Another two or three minutes' run brought them into the village, and here Sir Edgar insisted on alighting, and continuing his journey on foot. Cleek watched him go with brows on which deep furrows were marked. "Wonder what made the young gentleman lie so futilely?" he said at length as his shadow gradually merged in with the darkness ahead. "Lie?" echoed the astonished constable, as he fumbled with the latch of his garden gate. "Yes, lie, my friend," flung back Cleek, his foot on the step of the car. "He was running _to_ the station not _from_ it; his clothes smelt strongly of the scent which pervaded the house this afternoon, namely jasmine; and thirdly, there was a revolver in his pocket. A revolver is a thing no gentleman takes to a dinner with him, even a political one." And, leaving Mr. Roberts to digest this piece of mental food with his long-delayed supper, the car whizzed away in the moonlight. Cleek's first duty was to Ailsa, and he found her waiting for him pale and expectant at the little gate. "Oh," she cried, as the motor panted its way into silence. "I thought you were never coming back. Where is she, dear? Where is that helpless child?" She hurried out, but Cleek flung up an arresting hand. "I am either going mad, Ailsa, or else there is a greater mystery here than I can fathom," he said quickly. "Miss Cheyne herself was there to receive us and----" "_Miss Cheyne!_" echoed Ailsa, her eyes dilating, and apparently she was almost as shocked at this news of her evident existence as she had been a short while back by her demise. "But you said----" her voice trailed away into silence, and Cleek took the words out of her mouth. "She was dead! Yes, I certainly thought so, and I cannot understand it. Nevertheless, Miss Cheyne is there all right, Constable Roberts will vouch for that; and Lady Margaret is presumably tucked up safe and sound in her bed, but it is incomprehensible to me. Here's the story if you care to hear it." He gave a rough outline of his various discoveries and at the end of it Ailsa nodded her head gravely. "I cannot understand it, either," she said. "I suppose nothing can be done, but I will go up to Cheyne Court early in the morning and see the child for myself." Cleek smiled his approval. "I wish you would," he said. "I must run up and see Mr. Narkom, and to-morrow perhaps--well, who knows----" CHAPTER V THE THREADS OF CHANCE