There was something inhuman in it, something horrible. It did not seem the sound produced by a man’s voice, a great ape might have uttered it or a devil. Leloir was turning to go, in fact, he had made half a dozen steps, when Gyde’s voice said: “Stop.” “Sir?” replied the valet. “You have all my jewels.” “Yes, sir, they are in this bag.” “Right. Order the car to the door.” The valet, glad to be gone, did as he was bid, and the master of Throstle Hall continued his peregrinations about the house, as though to make sure that everything was right before leaving. A few minutes later he came downstairs, still carrying the bag. The motor, a large brougham affair, was standing at the steps; he got in, Leloir closed the door, mounted beside the chauffeur, and they started. Ten minutes before the express was due they arrived at Carlisle station. “Tell me when the train arrives,” said Gyde through the speaking tube to his valet. “I am busy and don’t want to be disturbed.” He sat reading over some papers he had taken from his pocket, whilst Leloir busied himself, seeing that what luggage they had with them was prepared for the train. When it arrived Sir Anthony, leaving the motor, walked hurriedly down the platform to the special saloon carriage that had been attached for him, took his seat, and ordered his man to let nobody disturb him. It was dusk when the great two-engined express drew out of Carlisle station and took its way to London. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ CHAPTER X TWICE during the journey to London Leloir entered the compartment where Sir Anthony was, once bringing him tea, and again, just after leaving Normanton, bringing him the evening papers. One of the dining-car attendants, who was a friend of Leloir’s, afterwards deposed that there was something very strange about the man’s manner. “He looked startled and white,” ran his deposition, “looked like a man who had seen a ghost. I’ve known him a year, met him first on the run to Carlisle, then I met him in town by appointment and we went to a music hall together. He was always a good companion, and spent his money freely, but when he came into the car-kitchen for his master’s tea he had no sense in him; I asked him how his master was, he took me by the buttonhole and he says, ‘Parsons, do you believe in the supernatural?’ “‘No,’ I says, ‘I don’t. What makes you ask me?’ “‘Because,’ he says, and then he stopped, for the head attendant was calling to me. “I’d give a dollar,” concluded Mr Parsons, “to know what he did mean, and I’d bet a dollar it was something queer.” At St Pancras two broughams were waiting; Gyde got into the first, Leloir got on the box, and they drove off; the secretary and the dispatch boxes followed in the second brougham. It was half-past eleven when they arrived at 110B Piccadilly.