Geoffrey accepted the coffee gratefully. It had the desired effect. He felt the clouds lifting from his brain and the drowsy heaviness of limb leaving him.

"Are you coming with us?" he asked.

Ralph shook his head. There was a strange gleam on his face.

"I stay here," he said. "You are going to be busy, but I also have much to do. Don't be concerned for me. Blind as I am, I am capable of taking care of myself. I shall have a deal to tell you in the morning."

A minute or two later and the two conspirators slipped away. It struck Geoffrey as strange that they should not leave the house in the usual way; but Tchigorsky grimly explained that he much preferred using the ivy outside Ralph's window.

"Always be on the safe side," Tchigorsky muttered. "Come along."

Geoffrey followed. Where Tchigorsky could go he felt competent to follow. They reached the ground in safety and later were in the road. The moon had gone and it was intensely dark, but Geoffrey knew the way perfectly.

"Straight to Jessop's farm?" he asked.

"As far as the lawn," Tchigorsky replied. "It will be a good hour yet before we can venture to carry out our burglary. I can run no risks until I know that those two Asiatics are out of the way. What time is it?"

"About ten minutes to twelve."

Tchigorsky muttered that the time was not quite suitable for him. He drew a watch from his pocket; there was a stifled whirr of machinery, and the repeater's rapid pulse beat twelve with the silvery chime of a quarter after the hour.

"You are wrong," he said. "You see it is between a quarter and half-past twelve. We will lie on Jessop's lawn till one o'clock and then all will be safe."

They lay there waiting for the time to pass. The minutes seemed to be weighted. "Tell me some more of your Lassa adventures," Geoffrey asked.

"Very well," Tchigorsky replied. "Where did I leave off? Ah, we had just been tortured on that awful grill. And we had been offered our lives on condition that we consented to be hopeless idiots for the rest of our days.

"Well, we were not going to live in these circumstances, you may be sure. For the next few days we were left to our own resources in a dark dungeon with the huge rats and vermin for company. We were half starved into the bargain, and when we were brought into the light once more they naturally expected submission.

"But they didn't get it. They did not realize the stuff we were made of. And they had no idea we were armed. We had our revolvers and concealed in our pockets were some fifty rounds of ammunition. If the worst came to the worst we should not die without a struggle.

"Well, there was a huge palaver over us before the priests in the big temple, with Zara on her throne, and a fine, impressive scene it was, or, at least, it would have been had we not been so interested as to our own immediate future. At any rate, it was a comfort to know that there were no more tortures for the present, for nothing of the kind was to be seen. We were going to die; we could read our sentence in the eyes of the priests long before the elaborate mummery was over.

"I tell you it seemed hard to perish like that just at the time when we had penetrated nearly all the secrets we had come in search of. And it was no less hard to know that if the princess had postponed her visit another week she would have been too late. By that time we should have left Lassa far behind.

"The trial or ceremony, or whatever you like to call it, came to an end at length, and then we were brought up to the throne of the princess. You know the woman, you have looked upon the beauty and fascination of her face; but you have no idea how different she was in the home of her people. She looked a real queen, a queen from head to foot. We stood awed before her.

"'You have been offered terms and refused them,' she said. 'It is now too late.'

"'We could not trust you,' I replied boldly; we had nothing to gain by politeness. 'Better anything than the living death you offered us. And we can only die once.'

"The princess smiled in her blood-curdling way.

"'You do not know what you are talking about,' she said. 'Ah, you will find out when you come to walk the Black Valley!'

"She gave a sign and we were led away unbound. A quaint wailing music filled the air; the priests were singing our funeral song. I never fully appreciated the refined cruelty of reading the burial service to a criminal on his way to the scaffold till then. It makes me shudder to think of it even now.

"They led us out into the open air, still crooning that dirge. They brought us at length to the head of a great valley between huge towering mountains, as if the Alps had been sliced in two and a narrow passage made between them. At the head of this passage was a door let into the cliff and down through this door they thrust us. It was dark inside. For the first part of the way, till we reached the floor of the valley, we were to be accompanied by four priests, a delicate attention to prevent us from breaking our necks before we reached the bottom. But our guides did not mean us to perish so mercifully.

"'Listen to me,' Zara cried, 'listen for the last time. You are going into the Black Valley; of its horror and dangers you know nothing as yet. But you will soon learn. Take comfort in the fact that there is an exit at the far end if you can find it. When you are out of the exit you are free. Thousands have walked this valley, and over their dry bones you will make your way. Out of these thousands one man escaped. Perhaps you will be as fortunate. Farewell!'

"The door clanged behind us, and we were alone with the priests. We could not see, we could only feel our way down those awful cliffs, where one false step would have smashed us to pieces. But the priests never hesitated. Down, down we went until we reached the bottom. There we could just see dimly.

"'You could guide us through?' I asked.

"One of the priests nodded. He could save us if he liked. Not that I was going to waste my breath by asking him. They were priests of a minor degree; there were thousands of them about the temple, all alike as peas in a pod. If these men failed to return they would never be missed. A desperate resolution came to me. In a few English whispered words I conveyed it to Ralph Ravenspur.

"We still had a priest on either side of us. At a given signal we produced our revolvers, and before the priests had the remotest idea what had happened two of them were dead on the ground, shot through the brain. When the thousand and one echoes died away we each had our man by the throat. What did we care if the plot was discovered or not! We were both desperate.

"'Listen, dog,' I cried. 'You have seen your companions perish. If you would escape a similar death, you will bear us to safety. You shall walk ten paces in front, and if you try to evade us you die, for our weapons carry farther than you can run in the space of two minutes. Well, are you going to convey us to a place of safety, or shall we shoot you like the others?'"

Tchigorsky paused and pulled at his watch. He drew back the catch and the rapid little pulse beat one.

Then he rose to his feet.

"To be continued in our next," he said. "The time has come to act. Follow me and betray no surprise at anything you may see or hear."

"You can rely upon me," Geoffrey whispered. "Lead on."

CHAPTER XLIX
RALPH TAKES CHARGE

The troubled house had fallen asleep at last. They were all used to the swooping horrors; they could recall the black times spread out over the weary years; they could vividly recollect how one trouble after another had happened.

And it had been an eventful day. For the last few hours they had lived a fresh tragedy. True, the tragedy itself had been averted, but for some time there had been the agony of the real thing. The Ravenspurs, exhausted by the flood of emotion, had been glad of rest.

They were presumably asleep now, all but Ralph. Long after deep silence had fallen on the house he sat alone in the darkness. The glow of his pipe just touched his inscrutable features and a faint halo of light played about his grizzled head. A mouse nibbling behind the panels sounded clear as the crack of a pistol shot. The big stable clock boomed two.

Ralph laid aside his pipe and crept to the door. He opened it silently and passed out into the corridor. A cat would not have made less noise. Yet he moved swiftly and confidently, as one who has eyes to see familiar ground. He came at length to the room where Mrs. May was lying.

She had been made fairly comfortable. Her dress had been loosened at the throat, but she still wore the clothes in which she had been dressed at the time of her accident.

Later she would perhaps find it difficult to account for masquerading in the castle in that strange guise. That she would have some ingenious plea to put forward Ralph felt certain. But the dress was another matter. Ralph grinned to himself as he thought of it.

There was a light in the room. He could tell that by the saffron glow that touched lightly on his sightless eyeballs. He knew the disposition of the room as well as if he could see it. He felt his way across until he came to the bed on which the woman lay.

His hand touched her throat – a gentle touch – yet his fingers crooked and a murderous desire blossomed like a rose in his heart. Nobody was about and nobody would know. Who could connect the poor blind man with the deed? Why not end her life now?

"Far better," Ralph muttered. "It would have been no crime to shoot her like a dog. Yet fancy hanging for such a creature as that!"

The grim humor of the suggestion restored Ralph to himself. His relaxed fingers just touched the cold throat and face. He could hear the sound of regular breathing. From a tiny phial he took two or three drops of some dark cordial and brushed them over the woman's rigid lips. She stirred faintly.

"Just as well to hasten events," he muttered. "One cannot afford to play with the thing."

He replaced the bottle in his pocket. He drew himself up listening. Other ears could not have heard a sound. Ralph could plainly hear footsteps. But how near they were he could not tell. His brows contracted with annoyance.

"So soon," he muttered. "I did not expect this."

He dropped down between the bed and the wall. Then he crawled under the deep valance. He had not long to wait. Somebody had crept into the room, somebody light of foot and light of body who crossed to the bed. And this somebody shook the sleeping figure with passionate force.

"Wake up!" a voice said. "Oh, will you never wake up?"

The listener smiled. He could hear the figure of his arch-enemy stirring uneasily. She muttered something and once more was passionately shaken.

"What is the matter?" she muttered. "Where am I?"

"Here, in the castle. Don't you remember?"

Pause for a moment. Ralph was listening intently.

"I begin to recollect. There was an accident; the door refused to open; I fought for my life as long as I could before the fumes overcame me, and I gave myself up for lost. Oh, it was something to remember, Marion," muttered Mrs. May.

Marion, for it was she, made no reply. She was crying quietly.

"What is the matter with the girl?" the woman asked irritably.

"Oh, it is good for you to ask me that question," said Marion, "after all the bitter trouble and humiliation you have put upon me. Get up and follow me."

"I cannot. The thing is impossible. You forget that I have been almost dead. My limbs are paralyzed. I shall not be able to walk for at least two days. I must remain like a dog here. But there is no hurry. What happened?"

"I can't tell; I don't know. You were found in the corridor, I am told, insensible. When they came back to the castle they found you lying here. They had all been down on the beach searching for Geoffrey."

The woman laughed. It was a laugh to chill the blood.

"I hope they found him," she said.

"Oh, yes, they found him," Marion said quietly.

"Drowned, with a placid smile on his face, after the fashion of the novel?"

"No, very much alive. You failed. Geoffrey Ravenspur is here safe and sound. On my knees I have thanked God for it."

The woman muttered something that the listener failed to catch. She seemed to be suppressing a tendency to a violent outburst.

"I will not fail next time," she said. "And you are a love-sick, soft-hearted, sentimental fool. All this time I have to remain here. But, at any rate, I have you to do my bidding. Put your hand in my breast pocket and you will find a key."

"Well, what am I to do with it?"

"You are to go to my rooms at Jessop's farm at once. They will be fast asleep, so that you need not be afraid. Jessop's people have the slumber that comes of a tired body and an easy conscience. But there are foes about and it is not well to trust to anybody.

"If I am to remain here for a day or two I must have certain things. In my sitting room, by the side of the fireplace, is a black iron box. Open it with the key I have given you and bring the casket to me. You can get into my sitting room by gently raising the window, which is not fastened. They are so honest in these parts that people don't fasten their windows. Now go."

"You are sure you cannot get up?"

"Certain. I have been drugged and it will be some time before I am able to get about. That is why I am anxious to have the box. Young Ravenspur would never have got away had he had no friends to assist him or a simple fool to give him warning."

"The fool you speak of does not regret it."

"Perhaps not. How did he escape?"

"In the simplest possible way. He was picked up by a passing yacht."

"Well, accidents will happen," the woman muttered. "Now do my bidding. The heavy drugged sleep is coming upon me again, and I shall not be able to keep my eyes open much longer. Go at once."

As Marion crept away Ralph could catch her heavy indrawn breath and the sobs that seemed to burst from her overcharged heart. Then he knew that the woman was asleep again.

A minute or two later and he was standing in the hall. He waited in shadow, silent and patient. The stairs creaked slightly and a stealthy footstep came creeping down.

CHAPTER L
A KIND UNCLE

Ralph crept toward the door. Marion came close to him, her hands fumbling nervously with the bolts and bars. Some of the bars were heavy, and Marion was fearful lest they should fall with a clang and betray her.

Ralph stretched out his hand and drew back a bolt.

"Allow me to assist you," he said. "I am used to this kind of work."

A scream rose to Marion's lips, but she suppressed it. The effort set her trembling from head to foot. Yet it seemed to her that there was no cause to be frightened, for she had never heard Ralph's voice so kind before.

"Uncle," she stammered, "what are you doing here?"

By way of reply Ralph opened the door. He gave the sign for Marion to precede him, and then followed her out into the night. The heavy door closed behind him.

"I might with equal justice ask you the same question," he said. "Nay, more; because you are merely a young girl and I am a man. And you know I don't sleep like most virtuous people. I suffer from insomnia and never sleep for long anywhere. Perhaps I am like the cat who prowls about all night and slumbers in the daytime. But where are you going?"

"Uncle Ralph, I cannot tell you. It is a secret. If you knew everything you would pity me."

There was a deepening ring in Marion's voice. Ralph caressed her hand tenderly.

"Don't trouble," he said. "I know."

"You know where I am going. You – you know!"

"Certainly I do. I know everything, my dear."

"Not everything, uncle. Not of my connection with that woman, for instance."

"Indeed I do, Marion."

"You are aware of our relationship! You know that!"

"My dear child, I have known it for years. But your secret is safe with me. I am not going to betray you. Could I have the heart to do so after all you have done for my family? Angel Marion."

He repeated the last words over and over again in a low, caressing voice, pressing the girl's hand softly as he did so. Even then Marion was not sure whether he was in earnest or whether he was grimly ironical.

"I never thought of this," Marion murmured.

"Perhaps not," Ralph replied. "Mrs. May is a bad woman, Marion."

"The worst in the world," Marion replied. "You only know her as Mrs. May?"

"I only know her as she is, dear. And yet I feel that in some vague kind of way she is mixed up with our family misfortunes. Oh, if I could only see, if I could only use my eyes. Then I might know that woman still better."

Marion shuddered at the steely, murderous tones. Ralph patted her hand reassuringly.

"But you need not be afraid," he said. "You are all right – the brightest angel in the world. You are torn by conflicting emotions; you fancy your duty lies in certain directions, and you are troubled over it. And yet it will come right in the end, Marion. We did not lose Geoffrey after all."

"Thank God, no. And yet there is plenty of time."

"There is ample time for the right as well as the wrong, Marion. But do not let us talk of the past any more, my dear. I am not going to pry into your secrets, and I know how far to trust you. Let me walk part of the way with you. I can wait by the barn till you return."

Marion raised no objection. It was the dead of night now and there was no fear of meeting anybody. Yet Marion started uneasily as Ralph began to whistle. She ventured to suggest that the noise was not prudent.

"Perhaps you are right," Ralph said amicably. "At any rate I will wait here till your return. You have not far to go, of course?"

"I have a very little way to go, uncle. I am going to Jessop's farm."

Ralph nodded. The farm loomed up not far off. As Marion darted off Ralph lighted his pipe and whistled again. Something moved in the bushes.

* * * * *

Meanwhile Tchigorsky and Geoffrey were nearing the window. Tchigorsky moved on resolutely and confidently with the air of a man who is sure of his ground. He put up his hand and fumbled for the catch. It gave at once and the pair of burglars slipped quietly into the room.

"We shall be safe," he said as he proceeded to strike a match. "It is just as well to take every precaution. What would the estimable Jessop say if he could see into his parlor?"

Geoffrey smiled.

"He'd be astonished," he said, "a little dismayed, too. But he would say nothing so long as I am here. Jessop would stand on his head for me."

The strong rays of the lamp lighted up the room. There were flowers everywhere, dainty china on the table full of blooms, bowls filled with choicest fruits. Wines sparkled in the crystal goblets on the sideboard, a silver cigarette box was conspicuous, and on a safe lay an object to which Tchigorsky called his companion's attention.

"What do you make that out to be?" he asked.

Geoffrey picked up the drapery. On the top of it lay something red with a feather in it. It appeared to be a costume of some kind. As Geoffrey held it aloft a light gradually broke in upon him.

"Well," Tchigorsky asked, "have you solved the problem?"

"I have," Geoffrey replied. "It is the blue dress and tam-o'-shanter hat which have played so conspicuous a part lately. But what brings them here? Has Mrs. May a companion hidden somewhere, a companion who might be Marion's sister?"

"Seems like it," Tchigorsky said with a dry smile. "But I am not going to enlighten you any further on that question at present. Mrs. May and the girl in the blue dress are two separate people, anyway."

"You forget that I have seen them together," said Geoffrey.

"I had forgotten that. Well, it won't be long now before the identity of the lady in the smart dress and coquettish hat is established. Meanwhile we came here in search of something far more important than a woman's costume. Help me to turn out all those drawers, and be careful to replace everything exactly as you find it. We have a good three hours before us and much depends upon the result of our search. Keep a keen eye open for papers in any language that is unfamiliar to you."

For an hour the search proceeded and yet nothing came to light. There were plenty of bills, most of them emanating from West End establishments – accounts for dresses and flowers, boxes for theaters, and the like, but nothing more.

Tchigorsky glanced keenly round the room.

"I am afraid we shall be compelled to show our hand," he said. "Mrs. May is so clever that I half expected to find private papers in some simple place, while an examination of her safe would disclose nothing. She has not anticipated burglary and what I am looking for is in the safe."

"Dare you open it?" Geoffrey asked.

"And show my hand, you mean? I fancy so. We are so near success now that it really does not matter. Put the safe on the table," replied Tchigorsky.

The heavy iron box slipped as Geoffrey raised it and clanged on the floor. An exclamation of anger and annoyance came from Tchigorsky and an apology from the younger man. They both stood upright for a few minutes listening intently. But the people upstairs were sleeping the sleep of the just. There came no answering sound.

"Blessings upon the pure air and the high conscience that hold these people," Tchigorsky muttered more amicably. "It's all right, my young friend. Hoist up the box, and let us see if my little steel jimmy will have any effect. I would rather have had the key. It is never well to betray your plans if you can – "

The speaker paused. From outside a little way off there arose a long, shrill scream, the cry of a woman in distress. The sound set Geoffrey's blood leaping; he pushed for the window, but Tchigorsky detained him.

"Where are you going?" he asked sternly.

"Outside," Geoffrey exclaimed. "A woman is there. She asks for assistance. Can you stand there calmly and see – "

"See you making an ass of yourself, eh? My dear boy, on my word of honor there is no woman in danger yonder. In a measure I am glad to hear that cry, though it proves to me that our allies have not been so artistic over their work as they might have been. You will not hear that cry again."

"Perhaps not," Geoffrey said, reassured considerably by Tchigorsky's placid manner; "but I hear footsteps outside."

Tchigorsky smiled. He had taken some steel bits from his pocket, but he replaced them again.

"If they are, then they are the footsteps of a friend," he said. "This being so, there will be no need for me to give you lessons in the way not to open a safe. Are you right? It seems as if the window was opening."

The window was indeed opening. It moved half an inch, and then there was a "hist," and something clanged on the floor. Tchigorsky took the matter as coolly as if it had all been arranged beforehand. He did not move as the window closed again and stealthy footsteps outside moved away.

"It is all right?" Geoffrey asked.

Tchigorsky smiled broadly.

"Splendid!" he said. "It could not have been better. My boy, this is the night's work which is going to crown our endeavors. Yonder we have the proofs, and here we have the means of getting them."

He picked the metallic object from the floor. He fitted it to the lock of the safe, and instantly a mass of queer things was discovered. Tchigorsky's eyes gleamed as he saw this; they positively flamed as he turned out a lot of papers.

At the bottom was a book in metal covers. As Tchigorsky fluttered it open a cry broke from him.

"Found!" he exclaimed, "found! We have them in the hollow of our hands."