Some glimmering of a lost manhood stirred dully in his mind. He must first be sure of Bhag. He went out into the darkness in search of his strange and horrible servant. Putting both hands to his mouth, he emitted a long and painful howl, the call that Bhag had never yet disobeyed, and then waited. There was no answer. Again he sent forth the melancholy sound, but, if Bhag heard him, for the first time in his life he did not obey. Gregory Penne stood in a sweat of fear, but, so standing, recovered some of his balance. There was time to change. He went up to his ornate bedroom, flung off his pyjamas, and in a short space of time was down again in the dark grounds, seeking for the ape. Dressed, he felt more of a man. A long glass of whisky restored some of his confidence. He rang for the servant who was in charge of his car. “Have the machine by the postern gate,” he said. “Get it there at once. See that the gate is open: I may have to leave to-night.” That he would be arrested he did not doubt. Not all his wealth, his position, the pull he had in the county, could save him. This latest deed of his was something more than eccentricity. Then he remembered that Stella Mendoza was still in the house, and went up to see her. A glance at his face told her that something unusual had happened. “Where is Adele?” she asked instantly. “I don’t know. She escaped—she had a pistol. Bhag went after her. God knows what will happen if he finds her. He’ll tear her limb from limb. What’s that?” It was the faint sound of a pistol shot at a distance, and it came from the back of the house. “Poachers,” said Gregory uneasily. “Listen, I’m going.” “Where are you going?” she asked. “That’s no damned business of yours,” he snarled. “Here’s some money.” He thrust some notes into her hand. “What have you done?” she whispered in horror. “I’ve done nothing, I tell you,” he stormed. “But they’ll take me for it. I’m going to get to the yacht. You’d better clear before they come.” She was collecting her hat and gloves when she heard the door close and the key turn. Mechanically he had locked her in, and mechanically took no heed of her beating hand upon the panel of the door. Griff Towers stood on high ground and commanded a view of the by-road from Chichester. As he stood in the front of the house, hoping against hope that he would see the ape, he saw instead two lights come rapidly along the road. “The police!” he croaked, and went blundering across the kitchen garden to the gate. CHAPTER XXXVII AT THE TOWER AGAIN ADELE went flying down the drive, intent only upon one object, to escape from this horrible house. The gates were closed, the lodge was in darkness, and she strove desperately to unfasten the iron catch, but it held.