"Be queek. I haf not time----" she went on in English as if she wished Ailsa Lorne to know how little she regarded her presence. "Not 'arf I ain't, lady!" was the astonishing reply, as Dollops hurled himself forward. With an exclamation Margot whipped out the revolver again. A shot rang out, but Dollops was too quick. Like a veritable human catapult he flung himself on the figure of the woman, the impetus carrying her down on the slippery floor, her head striking against the carved table leg. Then all was silence. "God bless you, Dollops!" breathed Cleek, as the lad bounded over and slashed furiously at the binding ropes. "Quick, sir! Miss Ailsa, put my coat on. Gawd bless yer both, and now let's get out before this beauty wakes up, or shall I finish her, sir?" "No, no," said Cleek, catching Ailsa in a fervent embrace while Dollops picked up the revolver which had fallen from Margot's hand. "Through here, Dollops. There's a side door and a carriage she said." Quickly the three stepped out into a deserted corridor. Even if the Countess had heard the shot, she had evidently obeyed orders. Not a soul was in sight, and darting down the corridor to the door at the end, they found it led out to a small gate in the high surrounding wall. Outside there waited a carriage, and Cleek, muttering a well-remembered password, bade the driver take them to Charing Cross. But when that individual drew up at the station and a porter opened the carriage door, its passengers had strangely vanished. But it was not until Cleek had seen Ailsa safe in her own room that he dared give a sigh of relief. "Good boy, Dollops," he said, softly, as that individual hovered over them both. "How did you manage it?" "Looked himportant, sir, and swore at the footman. That's the way to treat their sort, sir. Works hevery time." "Maybe you're right, boy," said Cleek. CHAPTER XXII AN INTERRUPTED HOLIDAY Some twelve hours later Cleek had the pleasure of learning through some of Scotland Yard's scouts that Margot had departed for the Continent. Evidently she had recognized defeat for the time being, and Ailsa having, at Cleek's own advice, gone down to Mrs. Narkom to rest her quivering nerves, Cleek himself thought it only right to give Dollops the holiday his action had earned him. Had it not been for his ingenuity things would have gone very differently. The charm of the river now called to him, and as there was no urgent summons from the Yard, Cleek ordered Dollops to pack a couple of bags, to that young gentleman's delight and excitement, while he went out to ring up the owners of a motor-launch standing in the upper reaches of the Thames.