The sound of her scream was deadened in the hairy paw, but somebody heard it. From the ground below came a flash of fire and the deafening ‘tang!’ of a pistol exploding. A bullet zipped and crashed amongst the ivy, striking the brickwork, and she heard the whirr of the ricochet. Instantly the great monkey released his hold and dropped down out of sight. Half swooning, she dropped upon the window-sill, incapable of movement. And then she saw a figure come out of the shadow of the laurel bush, and instantly recognized the midnight prowler. It was Michael Brixan. “Are you hurt?” he asked in a low voice. She could only shake her head, for speech was denied her. “I didn’t hit him, did I?” With an effort she found a husk of a voice in her dry throat. “No, I don’t think so. He dropped.” Michael had pulled an electric torch from his pocket and was searching the ground. “No sign of blood. He was rather difficult to hit—I was afraid of hurting you, too.” A window had been thrown up and Jack Knebworth’s voice bawled into the night. “What’s the shooting? Is that you, Brixan?” “It is I. Come down, and I’ll tell you all about it.” The noise did not seem to have aroused Mr. Longvale, or, for the matter of that, any other member of the party; and when Knebworth reached the garden, he found no other audience than Mike Brixan. In a few words Michael told him what he had seen. “The monkey belongs to friend Penne,” he said. “I saw it this morning.” “What do you think—that he was prowling round and saw the open window?” Michael shook his head. “No,” he said quietly, “he came with one intention and purpose, which was to carry off your leading lady. That sounds highly dramatic and improbable, and that is the opinion I have formed. This ape, I tell you, is nearly human.” “But he wouldn’t know the girl. He has never seen her.” “He could smell her,” said Mike instantly. “She lost a pair of gloves at the Towers to-day, and it’s any odds that they were stolen by the noble Gregory Penne, so that he might introduce to Bhag an unfailing scent.” “I can’t believe it; it is incredible! Though I’ll admit,” said Jack Knebworth thoughtfully, “that these big apes do some amazing things. Did you shoot him?” “No, sir, I didn’t shoot him, but I can tell you this, that he’s an animal that’s been gunned before, or he’d have come for me, in which case he would have been now fairly dead.” “What were you doing round here, anyway?” “Just watching out,” said the other carelessly. “The earnest detective has so many things on his conscience that he can’t sleep like ordinary people. Speaking for myself, I never intended leaving the garden, because I expected Brer Bhag. Who is that?” The door opened, and a slim figure, wrapped in a dressing-gown, came out into the open. “Young lady, you’re going to catch a very fine cold,” warned Knebworth. “What happened to you?”