 23 Untwisting the Threads In the big, uncurtained ballroom of Chain Court the next morning a plentiful gathering assembled for the inquest which had been postponed from the week before, and Mr. Narcombe, who had entered with Cleak and a number of strangers, that to an observant eye would have revealed themselves as plain clothesmen, watched the entry of every newcomer with almost morbid expectancy. Early arrivals were Lady Brenton and Sir Edgar, who at Cleak's request had returned from town that same morning, after a presumably futile search for any trace of Lady Margaret. The boy's face was lined and anxious, his nerves evidently strained to breaking-point. Close beside him sat Lady Brenton, her arm clenched tight in his, and Cleak smiled a little as he noticed that she wore a gold scarf, obviously the one which had been given such unwonted publicity the preceding week. It was not exactly morning attire, but she had evidently worn it in defiance of all gossip. Jennifer Wynne and her brother were there too, pale both of them, with eyes that told a tale of sleepless nights. Close beside them stood the immaculate dapper figure of Gongadal, his dark eyes flashing from one face to the other, and lingering with a little smile on the perturbed countenance of Lady Brenton. It seemed as though he were quite satisfied with his work. For a little while Cleak appeared to take no notice whatsoever of his surroundings. And it was not until the coroner had got through the preliminaries of the inquest and proposed calling a witness that Cleak roused himself from his reverie, and said in a clear incisive voice, "'Witnesses are unnecessary, Mr. Coroner, for I will venture to call on the murderer himself.' Had a bombshell fallen near the assembly it could not have caused more consternation. And Cleak, as he took the centre of the room, let the queer one-sided smile travel up his face. There was a theatrical touch in this announcement which pleased him considerably. "'Yes, one murderer,' he continued, "'the other, fortunately, is dead. "'No, Mr. Wynne,' he continued rapidly, "'please don't try to get to that door. "'They are all guarded and the windows too, so if you don't mind.'" Suddenly he leapt swiftly in Bobby Wynne's direction. The startled young man was standing as if rooted to the spot, powerless with terror to move a step further. But with a spring Cleak bore down upon the figure of the man who was sitting smiling and complacent beside him, the figure of the Hindu Gungadal. "'Got you, you beauty! Got you!' He exclaimed as the man tried to fight him off. "'Thought to evade justice by casting the blame upon another, eh? But you came to the wrong person this time. Here, Petrie, Hammond, snap the bracelets on him, for he's as slippery as the proverbial eel. And I've no desire to have my wrists broken. That's it. Now the fish is caught at last. The game's up, Jimmy, my lad." Speaking he bent forward and stared into the man's dark, furious face. As he did so, the man's lips opened, and from his mouth issued a stream of cockney by tuperation, which would have shamed a Billingsgate barrow-holder. "'Ear, what are you getting at, Blastia?' Ended up the erstwhile Gungadal, as his breath failed him. "'And why does he call me Jimmy? Just like you're a blooming chick, damn you!' "'And just like my blooming knowledge, too, my friend,' responded Cleak with a little harsh laugh. "'I don't forget, friends, quite so soon as you do, Blake. "'Remember me now.' Of a sudden his features writhed, twisted, altered, and the man whom he addressed as Blake, looking up into his eyes, turned white and shrank back with a sudden overpowering fear. "'Gold the cracksman!' he ejaculated, and his head fell forward upon his breast. "'Yes, and now just Cleak of Scotland Yard!' "'Cleak!' exclaimed the coroner in amazement, and the name echoed from every mouth in that crowded room. "'Just Cleak!' was the reply. Suddenly Blake's face underwent a change. "'I don't care who you are, Blastia. I haven't done nothing but get up as an Indian, and there's nothing criminal in that.' "'No, my friend,' said Cleak quietly. "'But there is in murder, and when it comes to killing your own brother, what's that?' "'Oh, yes, it is. I know the dead man now, Sam Blake, tipster and member of the Pentacle Club. And you, you are James Blake, head of the club, the biggest gang of dual thieves in the world.' "'It's a lie!' shrieked the man. "'I am not. I did not kill him.' "'You did!' flung back Cleak. "'You killed him with a little white pellet of prusic acid. I dare say, yes, they are.' His deft fingers felt in one of the resisting man's pockets. With a little gasp of triumph he held up a small box, and opening the lid showed about a dozen white pellets, similar to the fragment found in the mouth of the dead man. His face grew tense and grim as he surveyed them. "'See, here is the weapon,' he said. "'And if you want further proof, I have it here in fingerprints. These are the official prints of James Blake, and they correspond to the marks on the dead man's throat. One more thing, the footprints—diving into his pocket—Cleak produced the roll of papers over which dollops had taken such care. "'See,' he said in sharp tones, "'these are the marks of the footprints which led direct from the body itself. These two are the footprints which I found in Miss Jennifer Wynne's garden at the foot of a certain window. To make things more sure, I think you will find that this,' he held up a scrap of grey tweed material. It is proof that this interesting gentleman climbed up by means of the wisteria plant, and obtained the prusik acid and magnesium from old Dr Wynne's surgery. A startled cry burst from the lips of the brother and sister, and their eyes met with such a mutually significant look, that a little smile crept into Cleak's eyes for a moment. It so obviously explained the situation between them. Each had suspected the other, and each had wished to shield the other. Then Cleak turned his gaze back to the prisoner, who was a picture of sullened ejection. "'There is one more overwhelming proof of my story,' Cleak said, and taking out his notebook he scribbled something rapidly. Then detaching a leaf he continued, "'If Mr. Narcombe will fetch it, and if I am right, I do not think Mr. Coroner need hesitate any further.'" Mr. Narcombe gave but one glance at the scrap of paper in his hand, but those standing near him heard his exclamation of astonishment. Then he was gone, and attention was once more riveted on Cleak's slim figure. "'You made a mistake, my friend, in drawing my attention to the gold scarves last week, for I knew that you lied in saying that you had given Lady Margaret that scarf. It was her father's gift, not yours. So your effort to draw a red herring across the path was a failure,' continued that gentleman, as he peered into the face of the prisoner. "'You made a bigger one today in leaving off that seal-ring which left its mark on your brother's throat last week.'" A string of vile expletives followed this statement as the bound man strove feebly to wrench his hand from the firm grasp which held it. At this a little cry burst from the lips of Dr. Veryl, and again Cleak smiled. "'You jumped to the conclusion too quickly that it was Miss Jennifer's ring, Doctor,' he said softly. Not even a strong woman could have subjugated a man like Blake. Dr. Veryl gave a little groan as he met Cleak's quizzical eyes, but Jennifer, who was standing near, stared at him in open-mouthed amazement. Then she said, almost under her breath, "'Oh, Edgar, you thought that I—that it was poor old dad's ring on my hand. Is that why you wanted me to put it away?' Swiftly Dr. Veryl turned to her, and even as he did so the attention of the people around was speedily withdrawn, for the door of the room was opened, and Mr. Narcombe stood in the doorway. "'Was I right?' said Cleak, a trifle anxiously. "'Right as a trivet,' was the complacent reply, and here she is.' He stepped aside, and then a cry arose, for framed in the doorway, pale and worn, but otherwise unharmed, stood the missing heiress, Lady Margaret Chain herself. A scramble ensued, but it was Sir Edgar who reached her first, and disregarding the surging crowd around them gathered her bodily into his arms. "'Margaret, my darling,' he said in a choked, broken voice. Cleak smiled. "'You've found her where I said?' he asked, addressing the superintendent who stood breathless but triumphant beside him. "'Yes,' said he briskly, she was in Gungadal's house, and bound and gagged poor child, although she seems to have recovered herself very well now.' He smiled at her as she stood crimson and shy, beside the upright figure of her lover, and she gave him a smile in return. "'Yes,' she said in a soft voice, looking up into Sir Edgar's eyes. "'I am perfectly recovered, thank you.' "'No, Edgar, you mustn't,' as that gentleman sprang forward in Gungadal's direction and made as if to attack him. "'He will meet with the justice he deserves to you soon enough.' Well said, through in Cleak, with an approving smile at this philosophical young person. I agree with Sir Edgar's sentiments, Lady Margaret, so long as they remain sentiments and nothing else. But now what about that story which we are all waiting so breathlessly for? Do you feel up to relating your adventures, just to clear away the curiosity which I see written on every face?' He set a chair for her, and she thanked him with a gesture. Seating herself, she blushed crimson at the sight of the crowd that surrounded her. "'Of course I will tell you my story,' she began in a low voice. "'But first of all I want you to believe that I did not kill that man. I truly did not.' "'What man, my dear young lady?' asked the startled coroner before anyone else could speak. "'Why, the man who impersonated my poor aunt,' she responded tearfully. "'But Mr. Dahl said everybody was looking for me, and he intended to take me out of the country. I did not want to go. It is all too wicked.' She clung trembling to Sir Edgar, who was divided between his longing to wreak his vengeance on the prisoner, who stood sullen and discomforted, and his efforts to restore Lady Margaret. "'You need not fear any trouble on that score, Lady Margaret,' said Clicke quietly, smiling at her. It was Gongadal himself who murdered the man, his own brother. And all we want to find out is how your scarf came to be involved. "'When did you discover the trick that had been played?' "'I never thought of there being any trick,' she said with a little shiver. Poor auntie was always very queer and undemonstrative, even when I was a child, and too she always disliked me. That was why she kept me so long at school. So I never thought of it being anyone else, till I came down to meet Edgar on the terrace. Then the sound of the laughter, and all men's laughter, caused me to look into the room. When I saw what I had believed to be my aunt, with her weird carve-off, smoking a big cigar and holding up my jewels,' she broke off with a little shudder, and Elsa Lorne, who stood near, leaned forward and took Lady Margaret's shaking hand into her own. "'What happened afterward, Lady Margaret?' Kleeke then asked. "'Can you tell us? It is necessary evidence, you know.' "'Yes,' she said bravely. "'They got me and found my eyes, and laid me on a couch in the ballroom. I don't know what happened then, but I found myself at last in the wine cellar, with the servant Aggie keeping watch over me. It seemed ages and ages before Gongadal came to me, and while Aggie was sleeping, she had been drinking all the time she was with me. He got me through the window, and out into the lane where he had a carriage waiting. He said he was going to drive me to Lady Brenton. But when I found he was not, I got frightened, and wondered if you had got the bit of paper I slipped from the window when I saw you. "'Did you get it?' she turned to Elsa, who nodded. "'Yes, dear,' and gave it to Sir Edgar. "'I'm so glad,' she said in a broken voice. "'Well, after that he drove me to his own house, and promised to fetch Lady Brenton to me.' "'That devil!' burst out Sir Edgar impetuously, his face crimson with fury, his whole figure shaking, as if he couldn't have brought you direct or as if he had wanted to.' "'I never thought of that,' she responded. All I thought of was getting away from Chain Court. He said then that all the countryside was looking for me, as I was accused of having murdered that awful creature whom I had believed to be my aunt. I wanted to confront them, but he wouldn't let me go. At last he said, if I would give him my gold scarf, it would be the means of setting me free. A little one-sided smile crept up Cleeke's face as he listened to the girlish recital. "'A clever devil!' he ejaculated. He went straight back to Blake, not knowing perhaps that the jewels were already in their possession, and took the scarf as a proof that he had Lady Margaret in his power. Then he turned on his heel and faced the prisoner. "'Come, Blake, own up. The truth. It will serve you best.' The prisoner scowled blackly and stared into Cleeke's eyes with hatred in his own. "'What's the good?' he muttered angrily. "'You seem to know it all just as if you were there. It's true enough.' I went to Sam, who had no business to have acted without me, and told him I'd got the girl and would let on to the police if he didn't give me a share. I didn't know it wasn't the old girl herself, till the day before when I followed them up to London. Then I recognised Sammy, considering I had been away in Paris for over a year, planning out to get old of them jewels, and even joined up with that their crowd of Hindu niggers in order to have assistance. They only wanted the Purple Emperor, said I could have what I liked, if I happened to get that without having to take life. Well, it isn't surprising that I didn't mean to be bestied by Sam and his pals. Cleeke nodded as if in approval, though it was really the proof of the correctness of his own theories that caused the unconscious movement. "'But the law was one too many for both of you, Jimmy Mallard,' he interrupted, and you came to grief at last. But what I want to know is how did you get into chain court?' Through a secret entrance hidden in the wall, if you want to know, replied James Blake sullenly. Might as well know it first as last. There's a hole in the dried-up moat what leads to the foundations, and I happened to discover it when I was hiding there. So I nipped in and then stumbled upon Lady Margaret lying in the cellar, and saw it was a chance to get even with Sammy. Well, he only laughed at me when I said I'd got her, and told me I'd never find the jewels where he didn't. Blast him, I never have. But we came to blows then, and he clutched at the scarf I held, and nicked a piece out of it, just as he fell. Then I scuttled upstairs and threw it back into the girl's room, and now it's all a blooming story. "'Back into her room,' ejaculated Sir Edgar furiously at the end of this recital. So he threw suspicion on my dear girl. Well, I'll bring his damp neck for him as a little return for his trouble." He leapt forward, but Gleek caught at his shoulder, and with a smile drew him back. A very creditable performance, my friend, said he serenely, but I don't think I should carry it out. As Lady Margaret herself suggested, the law will take its course. And meet out full justice. Meanwhile, there is still more work to be done. This part of the case is clear enough. This man, James Blake, is his right name, although we have all known him as Gongadal, is the head of the Pentacle Club. And the murdered man, Sam, his brother, was also a member of the gang. As you see, it has been a deeply laid plot on their part to secure that ill-fated The Purple Emperor. And as I have long imagined, the Hindu priests are still on its track. When I went up to London to find out about James Blake, I learned by chance of the existence of this brother. And then I knew what had happened. There is no doubt, as I shall prove to you, that Sam had made ingenious arrangements to get the jewels safely away before the return of his brother. And it was the knowledge of a safe hiding place which led him to be defiant. And that was obviously the cause of his death. However, there is one thing to console ourselves with, and that is that he but anticipated the law. There is little doubt that he was the murderer of Miss Chaine, and also the perpetrator of another crime in the east of London, the murderer of an old-claw woman. He stabbed her to death for a bundle of second-hand clothing and a wig. That shows the nature of the man, doesn't it? But that is the way he obtained the clothing to dress his part. And the little second-hand clothes-dealers' case passed out of the public eye under the screen of found murdered by person or persons unknown. But her death and Miss Chaine's are avenged. We have Mr. James Blake to thank for that. He paused a moment and looked about him at the expectant faces of the audience. Then bent and whispered something to Mr. Narcombe, who nodded vigorously and spoke to the coroner. Then Cleak spoke again. I don't think there is anything more to be done now, so far as the public is concerned, he said, in a clear voice which penetrated to the ends of the crowded room. And I think they may safely consider the case at an end. I shall be glad, therefore, if they will leave this room as quickly and as quietly as possible. They left forthwith, as the prisoner was led away, but once out in the spring sunshine it came to them suddenly that that very clever gentleman had left off at the most critical point, and that the hiding place of the famous chain-court jewels had never been revealed. End of Chapter 23 Chapter 24 of The Riddle of the Purple Emperor This Librivox recording is in the public domain, recording by Ruth Golding. The Riddle of the Purple Emperor by Mary E. Henshu and Thomas W. Henshu Chapter 24 An Unexpected Contra-Ton A hubbub of voices sounded for a few minutes, as the crowd wended its way out of the house and toward the village, there to relate the amazing occurrences of the morning, and in the ballroom there fell a momentary hush. Still almost dazed by the trend of events, the little knot of people present looked at Clicke, who stood gazing fixedly at the floor. Then he gave a little shake of his shoulders. And now, my friends, having cleared up one part of the mystery, there is still a question of the jewels hiding place. What's that, Sir Edgar? How did I find out where Lady Margaret was hidden and by whom? Well, Blake gave himself away finally last week by his efforts to throw suspicion on the owner of that gold-laced scarf. It seemed clear to me that had he Lady Margaret in his power, the evidence of her scarf would be a dangerous weapon against her, and one that would enable him to retain a hold over her. Then again I had recognized from the beginning that he was not an Asiatic. His eyes, dark though they were, had no yellow tinge, nor were they set eastern fashion. His accent in moments of excitement left much to be desired. As to his brother and the Pentechal Club, they had evidently meant to make this house their headquarters, and they took advantage of its construction in order to make what would have been a safe deposit bank for their loot. Poking about here, I discovered that the cellars below this were in reality kitchens, and there is no doubt that originally this room was a huge dining-room, to which food was brought up from below. What's that, Lady Brenton? Impossible without a lift. Wait just one moment. Look down on this parquet floor. Do you see over here, for instance, a little piece of wood darker than the rest? Every eye turned in Cleeke's direction, searching the big floor carefully. Yes, and here's another, cried Jennifer Wynne suddenly. And another, put in Dr. Veryl with some excitement. A minute or so later, and three more were discovered joining what, at first sight, seemed to be a disconnected circle. But Cleeke took out a piece of chalk from his pocket. I need hardly tell you that a pentacle is a six-sided star very frequently used in masonry and the east. He said, as they looked at him in some mystification. I knew that the murdered man was a member of the notorious pentacle club, since a pentacle was a very well-known person, and the pentacle was therefore in my mind's eye, when I did this. Kneeling, he swiftly joined up the points. And beneath the eyes of the interested watchers, the white chalk marks, standing out clearly on the dark floor, grew into the ancient sign of a huge pentacle, which spread across the centre of the room. Now, said Cleeke, after they had surveyed his handiwork in amazement, let us find the centre, and now look at this. Standing in the centre of the pentacle, he stooped down and pressed hard on one of the little pieces of dark parquet. As he did so, a cry of astonishment broke from all those present. For a section of the floor, about the size of the space covered by a large tray, very gently sank in front of them, and they saw Cleeke carried noiselessly and gently down into the darkness beneath. Another minute, and he was up again, a little smile on his face. When I discovered this, he went on, it gave me plenty of food for thought, and my further exploration still further solved the mystery. Mr. Narcum, if you will add your torches gleam to mine, it will give us light enough to complete my task. Come, you need not fear, the lift will give way. It has carried down bigger and stranger burdens, I promise you. A little hesitating murmur came from the ladies, but their curiosity overcame their fears, and two by two they descended down to the bottom of what looked like a well, lit as it was by the circle of light given out by Mr. Narcum's torch. Once down, however, they discovered that they were in an underground vault, which had certainly been used as a kitchen, for the old-fashioned stove still stood against one side. You see, said Cleeke in quiet reassuring tones, having once discovered this arrangement, it is no wonder that Blake conceived this method of getting hold of the chain jewels. With only poor eccentric mischane to dispose of the task was an easy one. It only remained to get them into his possession through the agency of Lady Margaret, and if she had not discovered the trick that was being played on her, all would have gone off smoothly. As it was, however, Blake probably did not know whether she had contrived to warn someone or not. Lady Margaret herself intervened here in a quick, agitated voice. That's just it, she said. I told him Sir Edgar knew, and left him at Deland and Miss Lawn as well, and I said that you would all come after me and get the jewels back, too, which seemed to make him furious. That accounts for his plan to hide them securely, then, said Cleeke, squaring his shoulders. I see. But surely he conceived the strangest method of concealment that ever entered man's mind. As if in illustration of his words, there suddenly burst forth the horrible sounds, like the wailing of a dog in his death-agonies, which had swept over the ballroom upon that first day of the inquest. Jennifer and Lady Brenton both shrieked aloud, and Cleeke had as much as he could manage to silence them. It is all right, don't be afraid, he said serenely, for that is the jewel-case of the Pentacle Club. Jewel-case? cried Dr. Veryl excitedly at this strange remark. What are you talking about? That was a living animal's cry, I'll take my oath. Quite right, Doctor. Look for yourself. With a swift step toward a door back of him, Cleeke threw it open, and disclosed another room into which he beckoned them. Here the morning light streamed in through windows and gratings let into the walls, and it was evident that they gave upon the old moat outside. But this, they hardly noticed, for an amazing sight met their eyes. Round the walls were ranged cages, big and small, every one with a living occupant. Cage after cage contained small kangaroos, opossums, civet-cats, in fact every variety of marsupial animal. Good heavens! gasped Sir Edgar. What is it? Are we mad or dreaming? It's like a circus. Which is what it would have been, said Cleeke complacently. But if Mr. Narcombe's men have done their work properly, Professor James, out in the meadow, will wait in vain for his opportunity to transfer these creatures to his friendly caravans. Professor James, said Bobby Wynne, speaking for the first time since the disappearance of Gungadal. What has he to do with it, Mr. Headland? Everything, as you will see for yourself, said Cleeke. But for the moment I want to rescue some of the chain jewels, which, if I am not mistaken, would have vanished for ever after tonight. But where are they? said Jennifer. Here, in front of you, for the most part, responded Cleeke sarimely, surely in the strangest jewel case that was ever conceived. Speaking, he darted over to the cage of one of the small kangaroos, and with the aid of his coat succeeded in catching fast the struggling animal. Plunging his hand into the pouch, he withdrew it, holding up a shining pendant in his fingers. A little gasp came from all present. Good heavens! said Sir Edgar. Do you mean to tell me that jewels are hidden like that? I do, said Cleeke. It is no wonder that Sammy Blake felt assured of his booty, for unless his accomplices betrayed him he was safe beyond all discovery. He knew that between the police searching for them and his own pals thirsting for revenge he would stand a very poor chance of getting them away hidden in any ordinary manner, hence the circus. It was ingenious to say the least of it. But how did he get them in? asked Lady Brenton. Very simply as I will show you, but first I will try and relieve some of these animals of their burden. Sir Edgar, Doctor, and Mr. Wynne, if you'll lend me a hand. Suiting the action to the word they made the round of the cages. In nearly every case Cleeke abstracted some valuable jewel from its occupant's pouch. He had left the cage containing one kangaroo to the last. The animal was a large one, and it took the united efforts of the men to overpower it, but at last they succeeded. And Cleeke gave a little cry of triumph as he held up to their astonished gaze a huge amethyst-colored stone flashing and quivering in the dim light of the torches. The purple emperor! cried Lady Margaret breathlessly, and Cleeke, with a little bow, passed it to her. Yes, Lady Margaret, and the quicker you get that into custody of the bank the safer your life will be, and he stopped short, alert, and intent, for a sound had come to his trained ears. Someone else had entered the vault. Quickly he stepped back into the shadow of the cages where he was hidden from view. There came a sound at the back of the room, a snarl, half human, half animal. But it was a man's figure that leapt across and snatched the great jewel away from the soft hands of Lady Margaret. Both the girl and her companions were too dazed by the sudden appearance of this uncouth being. His clothes covered with green mould, his hair dishevelled, his eyes glaring, to do anything but stare at him in utter astonishment. It's mine at last! he shrieked and turned to go back the way he had come. But Cleeke was in front of him and the entry closed. Noiselessly and swiftly he had worked his way round, and now stood looking at the man who, but a few short hours back, had had him trust and bound in the wine cellar on the other side of the house. Not so fast, my friend, he said. Your circus must wait a while. Up with your hands. He drew a revolver and held it in front of the man's face. His shaking arms went slowly upward, his furious crimson countenance turned a sort of pale drab. He swayed a moment, tried to regain his balance, staggered and then dropped to his knees. Mr. Narcombe promptly snapped the bracelets upon his wrists. Cleeke hauled him promptly into the circle of light. Curse you! snarled the man. Why didn't I kill you the other day? Yes, why? said Cleeke lightly. A mistake on your part. Stooping done, he took possession once more of the Purple Emperor. No stone is worth imperiling your life for, my good John. A little cry broke from the blanched lips of Lady Margaret as she peered at the dishevelled figure. Why, it is the Buckler, the man who watched over me alternately with Aggie in that awful cellar. She cried. It's the man who saw Bobby and said— Jennifer broke off abruptly, biting her lips in vexation and having thus betrayed herself. And Cleeke, looking at her, significantly took up the thread. Yes, the man you tried to bribe, Miss Jennifer, who ran away so quickly and disappeared in an empty field. I will show you how he did it. Dollops, bring him along and follow me, people. There is still more to this astounding riddle. He switched on his heel, and passed through the door which he had opened behind them, and across the vaulted kitchen, followed by his companions. Then, climbing up a few steps, they went through still another door which led them out into the open. The moat, said Lady Margaret softly, as she looked up at the blue sky high above their heads. Cleeke said nothing, but, bending over, twitched aside a little clump of green shrubs. It disclosed a dark opening like a cutting let right into the earth. This slopes up, said he. I have already tried it, and if you noticed those cages, you would have seen that every one was fitted with wheels. This enabled them to be wheeled down this passageway. And to-night, probably, they would have been transferred to the circus and then to London. I do not think that either the police or the other members of the gang would have thought of searching in so queer a hiding-place, do you? What's that, Sir Edgar? How did I come to think of it? Well, when I discovered the amulet, I found out that the amulet was a little too small. The animals last week, I was struck with their excited condition, and a strong smell of mask told me that something had been done recently to them to rouse them up to such a pitch. A little link of broken chain in a cage and a hastily made experiment told me the rest of the tale. While Cleeke was speaking, they were moving along the strange passage, and soon noticed that they were walking up an incline. Just as their heads began to reach the level of the earth, an iron gate barred their way. Cleeke pushed it back, and they discovered that it was the entrance to the vaults of chain court, cleverly hidden by the gorse bushes of the meadow belonging to the house. In this meadow, Professor James had pitched his circus secure in the permission of Miss Chain, and here he had waited for an opportunity to get hold of his precious freight. Cleeke and his followers were in the centre of affairs before the spectators even had time to wonder from whence they had sprung. Beg your pardon, Mr. Narcumseur! began Petrie, a look of chagrin on his face. We've got the caravans and all the rest of this stuff, but the man himself had got clear away. Cleeke smiled. All right, Petrie, said he serenely. Not so clear as he thought, for Dolops has got him safe, and he is here right enough. Get him down to the village and charge him with the robbery of the chain jewels. A light of satisfaction gleamed in Petrie's eyes as they lit on the figures of Dolops and his captive, and a look of relief crossed his face. It would have been the first time a suspected person had ever slipped through his grasp, and the fact that he had failed Cleeke at a critical moment had filled him with dismay. Did you get the one, Aggie? asked Mr. Narcum briskly. Yes, sir, said Hammond smartly. Fought like a wildcatch he did too, but we got her all right, and Constable Roberts has taken her down to the station. Good! said Cleeke. I think, then, that is all we need do here. But there are still points to be cleared, Mr. Cleeke. Come up now to the towers, where we can be at peace, said Lady Brenton. I want to get this child, she smiled at Lady Margaret, into safety. But we will have lunch first, for I am sure you are all absolutely worn out. It was an hour later in Lady Brenton's drawing-room, and the principles in this strange drama were assembled together. They were filled with curiosity to hear how this man, the greatest detective the yard possessed, had contrived to elucidate the mystery. A mystery which they felt sure would have remained unsolved forever had he not chanced to take up the case. It would have certainly ended in the death of the young girl, who now sat smiling and happy by the side of her lover. Cleeke looked round at his attentive audience, and flung back his shoulders as though he would cast the burden of this riddle forever from them. A smile came to his clean-cut lips, a triumphant light shone in his eyes, and for a moment, as he stood there, the little group about him could not fail to note the power of the man. He turned to Lady Margaret and reached out his hand to her. I am glad, more glad than I can say that you are safe, he said gravely as her eyes met his. For I felt myself in a measure responsible for having unconsciously driven you into the very centre of the danger. You, Mr. Headland, the exclamation came involuntarily from her lips. Cleeke smiled. Yes, he said serenely. I am the man who did it, Lady Margaret. Lieutenant Deland and George Headland are one and the same person. See. For a second his features writhed, twisting themselves into the semblance of the dapper Lieutenant, and then, before the astonished circle could speak a word, Mr. Headland stood before them again. You see, he went on smiling at the amazed faces of those who did not know of his amazing birthright gift. It is convenient sometimes in the interests of the law to change one's personality. I have changed mine often and will no doubt continue to do so still oftener. It was I who drove you to Chaincourt that night, and therefore it is right that I should save you from other things now. That is fair enough, isn't it? You have been the victim of a plot laid in Paris by James Blake, acting in conjunction with the envoys of the Hindu priests. From them you will always have to be on guard. The story of the theft of the Eye of Shiva will be handed down from generation to generation. And if it were not making too great a sacrifice, I would advise you to send them a message through the Indian government and let them make terms with you. They would probably gladly give you many other jewels in order to regain the sacred eye. Lady Margaret nodded enthusiastically. Oh, if you think they would, she said, with a little catch of the breath. I will do it at once. When I was in that dreadful vault I said I would give anything just to be free again. Now I am willing to pay. The priests shall have their purple emperor. It has already caused enough trouble in the world. Clique nodded his approval. You are a very wise young lady, said he, and you will be the gainer in the end of that I am sure. The purple emperor had always brought disaster in its wake, and the story goes will continue to do so until it is returned to its proper resting place in the empty eye socket of Shiva. But time is short, and I must go on with my story. If it bores you, simply tell me, but bores us, Mr. Headland! exclaimed Lady Brenton excitedly. When all our hearts are bound up in it, I can hardly wait to hear the end. Clique smiled. Then you shall not, dear lady! he responded, seating himself. Well, in the first place I soon found that there was a connection between the murder of this chain and that of her old servant, Elsie McBride. This Elsie McBride was the old clow woman I mentioned before, who was murdered for apparently no reason whatever in the neighbourhood of Drury Lane. And that connection was the chain-court jewels. Sam Blake, formerly an actor himself, I believe, no doubt by chance, saw the photograph of Miss Chain, which she had given her servant on her marriage. From that time onward Blake the younger plotted and planned to find some scheme by which he could enter the house, and eventually secure the jewels. Some scheme, that is, which didn't include his brother James. The fact of this stranger who visited the shock, only wanting old woman's clothes, and the theft of wigs, pointed to the need of a disguise. When I found that the fingerprints of the impostor at Chain Court coincided with those of the dagger with which the old woman was killed, I knew I was on the right track. Then the smell of jasmine which clung to everything puzzled me. It is, as you are all doubtless aware, a favourite scent in the native bazaars of India. And for that reason I suspected the priests of Shiva when I knew them to be in the neighbourhood. For a time I even believed that it was one of their number that I saw cross the Lawn of Chain Court on the night of the first murder, until I met you, Miss Wynne. Then the smell of the jasmine and your footprints told me that you were there on that night, as well as on the night of the second murder. Did you then suspect your brother of having committed both murders, that you tried to bribe the butler, John? What were you doing at Chain Court the night when the real Miss Chain was shot? He fixed his piercing eyes on Miss Jennifer, who had risen from her seat her lips white and trembling. What do you mean? she said in a low, tense voice. I don't understand. Are you some wizard or...? Not quite such a fool of a policeman as you might once have thought, he responded quietly. I saw you cross the Lawn that night, though I know you had no hand in the murder itself. Can you not tell us the reason of your presence there? I followed Edgar, said Miss Wynne, speaking unwillingly enough, a wave of scarlet surging over her face at the significance of the words. I saw him go up to the door and I slipped in. It was open, unlatched, that is. But Miss Chain was furious at his appearance, and I heard her drive him out again and lock the door afterward. Knowing her, I was afraid of her tongue if I should dare to reveal myself, so I crept away and directly it was quiet I got out into the grounds. I heard the shot, but did not attach any importance to it. Indeed, when later I heard the wheels of your motor driving away, I put it down to a burst tire. It was not until a week or so later when Bobby told me he was in trouble with heavy racing debts that I thought of Miss Chain again. Then in sheer desperation I thought I would ask her to lend me a little money. And that was the opening of the mystery to me, for I knew directly I saw her that a trick was being played, that it was not Miss Chain herself. I soon found out it was a man by the trick of throwing, throwing, interrupted Lady Brenton suddenly. How could you tell by throwing, Miss Wynne? I tossed her the roll of papers I had brought, said Miss Wynne quietly, and she brought her knees together instead of spreading them apart to make a lap as any woman would. It was then, I guess, the truth. I taxed him with it, and the man revealed himself then as some he blake the tipster. I was helpless then, because Bobby was in this very man's part. Her voice broke a little, and Cleak slid his fingers into one of his pockets, and drew forth something which he held up for her to see. By reason of these, eh? he interposed, stretching out a soiled envelope toward her. A little cry broke from her lips, and Bobby Wynne, springing to his feet, gasped in relieved amazement. My, I owe yous!" he cried exultantly, as Cleak handed them to him. He always promised to give them to me, but he never did. I've found them in his pocket-book, said Cleak, then turned once more to Miss Jennifer, and gave her an understanding nod. You need hardly say that you succeeded in getting money from Blake, he said. For not even your whole garden full of hyacinths would have produced the fifty pounds you gave your brother. That was the first thing that put me on the right track. She stared at him in astonishment. How did you know? she said quickly. But you are perfectly right. I had to account for the money somehow, and so I told him I'd sold my flowers. And I blackmailed Blake. It was an awful thing to do, but I was desperate, and I never thought of any harm coming to Lady Margaret, for he swore that she was in London, waiting for Sir Edgar at the Hotel Central. That is why I wired afterwards, so as to make up for it. Wired! cried Sir Edgar. Did you mean to tell me it was you who sent me on that wild goose-chaser London? I did not know it was that. She retorted a trifle angrily. I thought it would get you into safety and give you back to her. But the telegram was an old one. She blushed at the note in his voice, and looked at him defiantly. Yes, she said. I sent it, and then changed my mind. I got it back again before it reached you by intercepting the boy, and bribing him with half a crown, and the truth that I had sent it, and then regretted it afterward. I had my reasons. Sir Edgar looked away as she lowered her head. But your good sense got the better of you later on, eh? And so you sent it along by a private messenger. I see. She lifted her head and looked at him very squarely in the eyes. Yes, she said. I changed my mind again. A moment's silence followed. Then Bobby Winn spoke. But I never knew a thing about Blake's impersonation, Jen. He said apologetically. And I never guessed you'd go so far as to blackmail for me. I—I'm a bit of a rotter, I know, but I never have let you do that. I know you wouldn't. She responded with a sudden smile, as she looked at the boy's pale, shamed face. You see, turning to the others, I promised Father always to look after him, so that when I found a letter from Blake, telling Bobby to meet him at Chaine Court, what else could I do but follow and go inside for the second time? I got into the house, but I was too late. I heard the sound of quarrelling, though I couldn't tell if it were Bobby or not. So I hid myself on the landing until the voices stopped suddenly. I didn't dare to move, but I heard someone run upstairs right past where I had hidden myself in the landing linen cupboard. Then I got out and looked from the window. In the lane I saw Lady Brenton and recognised her gold scarf. What's more, I saw Sir Edgar too, and that frightened me. Then I went down myself and peeped in the dining-room. She broke off with a little shudder of terror, and Lady Margaret bent over and squeezed her hand impulsively. I could see the figure of Blake in his woman's clothes, lying in the chair. I was just about to go over to him when a woman came through the window. She snatched up a revolver from the desk beside the window, and shot straight at Blake. You shan't do as you devil so don't think it, she cried, and threw the revolver down at Blake's side. I nearly died of fright, for I recognised it as one that Miss Chaine had treasured. It had belonged to Sir Edgar's father, she told me so herself once. It must have been Blake's own, interrupted Sir Edgar in tones of deep conviction. For I had the other one. Miss Chaine threatened me with it a month ago, and I snatched it away and brought it home with me. But go on, Miss Winn, please. Just as I was examining it, continued Miss Winn, ignoring the interruption in her eagerness to continue, the man came in and recognised me. I knew him to be one of the confederates of Blake, and he said that he had seen Bobby kill the real Miss Chaine, but he would keep silent if I paid him. Outside in the lane I found Edgar, Dr. Veryl. She glanced shyly up at the pale young doctor, as if asking permission to finish her tail. And when he nodded emphatically, she continued speaking in a low, colourless voice. He had heard the shots, and was about to investigate. But when he saw me, he was so afraid lest I should be seen and brought into the matter, that he turned back down the lane to see if the coast was clear. I should have escaped even then, had it not been for that gold scarf, which I suddenly remembered I had left on the landing. I ran back for it, and it was then that that young assistant of yours caught me. She broke off, her story evidently finished. But who was the other woman? Put in, Sir Edgar, as Jennifer sank back in her chair, apparently exhausted by the recital. I think, said Cleak softly, that Lady Margaret would probably know her. Aki, the woman who waited on me, the girl cried. Why, of course, that accounts for it. She came down into the cell of frightfully excited, and did nothing but drink and drink. That was how the Hindu, the other man, I mean, was able to get me out of the vault. She had dropped off into a drunken stupor, and nothing seemed to arouse her. I never thought of your being in the house, said Miss Wynne, as she looked piteously at Lady Margaret. Please forgive me. You don't know how desperate I was for money. It's all right," replied Lady Margaret impulsively. I don't think they would have hurt me. Only when I discovered the trick they did not know what to do. Thank heaven I am safe out of it. She stretched out an impulsive hand to the other girl, and their fingers met silently. But Lady Brenton was eager to get on with the story. How did you come to discover where Margaret had been taken? She asked Cleek, who had sat silent during all this recital, listening to it with occasional nods, as though he had heard it all already. To think that I let that devil sit in my drawing-room, while all the time he was keeping her a prisoner. I owe that to Dollops, said Cleek, with a friendly little nod to that worthy. While making my investigations in the house, John and the woman Aggie caught me foul and made me a prisoner. They threatened indeed to kill me if I did not reveal where I had hidden Lady Margaret, which, of course, showed that she had been removed from the vault by someone unknown to them. At that time I was as much in the dark as they themselves, but a strong gleam of sunlight revealed caught in the window frame two little shreds, one of gold, the fatal gold scarf again, and one of tweed, smelling strongly of jasmine. I guessed then that she was either in the hands of Gungadal, or of the Hindu priests, and I was right. Afterward, when I found the animals down in the vaults, and came upon the circus with no animals in it, not the temptation of a five-pound note would procure me a look at one, I knew their purpose. It remained then but to see that they were not removed at night, and also to keep guard over the caravan which you may be sure I did. Suspicion pointed to so many people. Even including yourself, Lady Brenton, he added with an odd little smile at the lady's start of surprise. Would it astonish you very much to know that you yourself were really in chain caught on the nights of both murders? A little gasp of amazement came from the listeners, and Lady Brenton looked up with blanched face and dilated eyes. Impossible! she cried in quivering tones. No, you were the lady in the scarlet satin cloak, said Cleak. Dear! said Elsa, interposing suddenly as Lady Brenton's pale face flamed with an angry colour. It is all right. I understand now. You were walking in your sleep, and you took my scarlet opera cloak, the one we had such a talk over, don't you remember? When you commenced to worry over Sir Edgar and poor Miss Chain, you just wandered out in your sleep, and visited the spot in the working out of your dreams. I saw you, mother! said Sir Edgar with an emphatic nod of the head, as the good lady stared first at one face, and then another in her amazement at this turn of events. And it brought us both under suspicion. It certainly brought you under suspicion, Dr. Veryl, said Cleak suddenly, for what with your footsteps in the lane, and the fact that the prusik acid bottle had been tampered with in Dr. Wynn's surgery? But that's over and done with now, thank goodness, and I don't imagine there is any more to tell. But if I am not mistaken, there is a char of congratulations to be presented to both you and Sir Edgar, eh? Well, send me an invitation to the wedding, doctor, and I'll come no matter what happens. Just to see Miss Jennifer in bridal white, with that look in her eyes. Then Cleak's eyes turned to Lady Margaret and Sir Edgar, who were sitting with hands frankly clasped, as though there were no one but themselves in the whole universe. Cleak nodded at Lady Brenton. Love's young dream, he said softly. What's that, my young friend? As Bobby Wynn crossed over to him suddenly and reached out a boyish hand. Want to shake hands with me? Of course, of course. Anything I've been able to do has been a great pleasure, I assure you. But here's a piece of advice for you. Don't indulge too much in the racing habit, for it grows, and like pitch is inclined to stick a trifle too closely. Hard works, the best antidote for it. And if you're willing and ready, I have a friend who is looking out for a young political secretary this moment, one who is honest and trustworthy and straight. It's a chance. Want to take it? There was a sort of sob in the boy's voice. Want to? Well, just give me a chance, sir. I swear I'll stick to it, and show you I'm worthy of your friendship. The only bet I intend to make in the future is a straight tip, and that is that I won't fail you, ever. Cleak gripped the slim young fingers firmly, and nodded his head three or four times. Good boy! he said softly. That's the talk. And you'll be able to show that foolish young sister of yours that her love for you has been worth having after all. I'll drop you a line as soon as things are fixed up. But I must be off now for time flies, and there is other work to be done. Else, am I to have the great pleasure of escorting you back to the cottage? She jumped to her feet at this, laughing and happy. Of course, she said softly. Who else? And Lady Brenton, with a sudden little nod of comprehension, smiled. Then there are other congratulations to be given. She said softly, Well, well, I am glad to hear that. Come here, dear, and let me kiss you before you go. Cleak glanced at Mr. Narcombe, and Mr. Narcombe looked back at Cleak, for they too had been in the secret for a long time. Cleak's hand sought the superintendent's arm, and gave it a friendly squeeze. Some day, old friend, he said softly. And when that day does dawn, well, none other shall best man me but yourself, the best friend a fellow ever had. Mr. Narcombe gulped uncomfortably, as though there was something sticking in his throat. For all his position as chief keeper of law and order, he was a sentimentalist at heart. Brothers, Cleak, he responded in a husky whisper. Better be moving on, hadn't we? I've to get back to the yard this afternoon, if possible. Cleak nodded. Yes, better be moving on. Coming, Elsa? Ready, dollops? All right, then, we'll be off. Good morning, good people, and goodbye. The riddle is solved, I think, and our task is over. End of Chapter 25 And End of The Riddle of the Purple Emperor by Mary E. Hanshu and Thomas W. Hanshu