"A fair-sized boot, ladies and gentlemen," he remarked; "quite a fair-sized boot! Number tens, if I know anything of sizes. And looks like hunting-boots, too. Evidently a chap who rides. Now, this Captain Macdonald, Lady Paula----" "One of the finest horsemen in the country," she returned, with a shrugging of shoulders and an uplifting of brows. "Ah! Just so. That was what I imagined when I saw--when I encountered him here in these grounds last night. Light of foot, and the proper build, too. He'll no doubt be along in the course of another three quarters of an hour (if Jameson doesn't have a dickens of a job locating him), so in the meanwhile, if Mr. Narkom is willing, we'll take a little turn together and talk over things, and then come back to you here in the allotted time. Willing, Mr. Narkom?" "Perfectly willing." And so it came about that, arm in arm, the two friends went off together down by the wide driveway that led to the great doors of wrought-iron which Rhea so ably guarded, and Cleek, stopping in the pathway, pointed up to the statue etched out against the sky in sinister outline, and told Mr. Narkom the story of it. "Cinnamon! But what a magnificent thing it is!" ejaculated that gentleman with awe, when the tale was finished. "That's something to be proud of--eh, old chap? Now, if I had a fellow like that for an ancestor there'd be no living with me at all! These old families!--there's certainly something in this thing they call Birth and Race--though for the life of me I never can make it out." "No," thought Cleek, with a smile, "you wouldn't." But he said nothing, merely passed on toward the iron gates, and seeing that they had been left ajar, clanged them to sharply behind them. "He'll ring his great bell when the latch falls--that's his ceremonious way of welcoming the coming and speeding the parting guest," threw in Cleek with a laugh. "I'm going to shove down the latch now, so watch him, my friend. Here goes!" He sent the door clanging to with a vigorous pull, but--not a sound rang out over the still air. Rhea had failed in his duty for once in his whole long, dutiful lifetime. Cleek spun round and looked at him, face gone suddenly blank. "What the--that's the funniest thing! It's never failed before, except last night, when I found it conveniently ajar," he ejaculated, staring up at the sky. "Unless--perhaps it would have failed last night, too. There's no knowing. But Miss Duggan assured me positively that the thing had never been stopped. But if it _had_ been stopped for this very happening last night, to silence the approach of an unwanted visitor, what's to prevent 'em from swaddling the clapper up--and not had time to undo it again? And yet, when the Inspector came it rang all right. No--_that_ theory won't hold water, my friend." "What's that you're mumbling about, Cleek?" threw in Mr. Narkom at this juncture. "Clapper swaddled up? You surely don't think the bell's been stopped for any purpose?"