"But he comed down the stairs with the knife," grinned the housekeeper. "Oh, he did it right enuff--your par, I mean. I believe that boy saw it, too." "What boy? Do you mean Neddy Mellin?" "Yus. He was in the house--in the kitchen with me." "But he said he came with the washing later." "Then he's a liar," said Mrs. Vence, morosely. "He come earlier, and was keeping me company in the kitchen. An imp, he is; not as you knows him, miss." "I know him very well," said Claudia, secretly glad to hear that the boy had been on the scene, as his evidence would be valuable. "He is a great friend of mine. I shall see him and make him tell me everything." "He won't; he won't," said Mrs. Vence, hurriedly, and appeared to be somewhat discomposed, as if she feared she had let out too much. "Oh, yes, he will, Mrs. Vence. I saw him the other day, and he half-promised to tell me the truth. I'm going now." "Pity you ever came," snarled the old woman, restlessly. "You're only bringing your par to the gallers. If you speak to that imp, he'll put a rope round the neck of your par for sure." "Neddy will do nothing to harm me and mine, as he is fond of me." "Oh, is he? Then he'll hev to tell lies to save your par." Claudia hesitated at the door. "I tell you what, Mrs. Vence," she said. "When you come to Maranatha I shall got my father and Mr. Craver to meet you and Lady Wyke and Neddy. Then we can thresh the matter out." "You'd better bring that Sergeant Purse also," taunted Mrs. Vence, "as he'll be on the spot to gaol that par of yours. Git on; git out. You've worrited me with your cussed nonsense." Claudia, having executed her purpose, left the woman still coughing, and swiftly ran down the stairs. At the end of the narrow street, and when she emerged into the main thoroughfare, she hailed a taxi. Shortly she was driving towards Earl's Court, anxiously considering what was best to be done. It was a very pale-faced girl who entered the tiny drawing-room in the Tenby Mansions flat. Mr. Oliver Lemby was there stretched at length in his favourite chair, and smoking his big pipe. He looked unkempt and uncivilised, while the room had a neglected look. Claudia felt as though she was entering into the den of a bear, and the growl with which Lemby received her aided the illusion. But that Edwin was sitting in an adjacent chair and was ready to support her, Claudia would probably have burst into tears over this reception. What with the wear and tear of the last week, and the trying interview with Mrs. Vence, her nerves were worn thin. She felt that she could not bear much more strain on them. "Well, my gal," roared The pirate, "you've making a nice hash of things." "Don't talk like that to Claudia, Lemby," said Edwin, sternly, as the girl sank exhausted in a chair. "Don't you see she is worn out." "I shall talk to my own daughter as I please, hang you!"