"No--simply to protect the sensitive ears of the housekeeper," threw back Cleek with a contemptuous laugh; and then whirled around upon him and caught him by the shoulder. "Forgive me, old friend. My tongue scampers ahead of my heart sometimes, which is a very poor trait for a policeman to possess. What I mean to say is simply this: Up to yesterday that bell rang--even when we came here for the first time--for I have the evidence of my own ears to prove it. And now--it doesn't ring. So what's prevented it? I'm going up to see." "Cleek, my dear fellow!--to climb that height! And in daylight, too!" "What's the harm? say I--if you'll keep watch and tell me of approaching visitors. Here goes! Keep your eyes peeled upon the high-road, Mr. Narkom, because it wouldn't do to be seen, y'know and if any one approaches, whistle 'God Save the King,' and I'll slip into a hiding-place somewhere until the coast's clear. And don't tell any strangers who you are, will you?" Mr. Narkom acceded to all these requests with a quick nod, took up his post by the gateway leading out upon the road, and let his startled eyes travel backward now and again at Cleek's nimble, crawling figure climbing steadily up the sides of the huge gates, like a lizard upon a wall. Up, up, up he went, scaling the height and clinging here and there to the twists of iron and bronze that made an easy foot-hold--until, just as the summit was reached, and he was standing abreast of the enormous figure and looking up into its great face, with the bell dangling from the bar of iron upon which he stood, he heard the sound of "God Save the King" floating up to him in Mr. Narkom's whistle, darted quickly through the giant's legs, and drew himself up against the back of him and--hoped for luck. The sound of two men's voices--and one of them the Superintendent's--reached him where he stood upon the narrow ledge. He recognized the other as that of the bailiff, James Tavish, whom he had encountered upon the high-road only yesterday. Mr. Narkom dallied with him for so long, passing the time of day and making tactless inquiries about the murder, in his blunderbuss fashion ("Dear old bungler!" Cleek apostrophized him inwardly), that he began to wonder when the man would ever go. Then at length the voices ceased, and he saw Tavish's fine, well-set-up figure swing off in front of him up the driveway, and then himself slid back to the outer side of the statue, lest the bailiff look back, and waited until Mr. Narkom whistled "Coast all clear" again.