LAROSE WAS round at the castle within half an hour of Penelope’s message that the coast was all clear and quickly engaged in a most earnest conversation with Lord Delamarne.

“I have been thinking, my lord,” he said, “that although we’ve finished with about the worst man at the Baltic Embassy you’re still not out of danger, and the sword will continue to hang over you. Of course, the Embassy people will be profoundly mystified with the disappearance of those two men, but it’s not likely to put them off coming after those jewels again. Rather, I should say, they’ll be more certain than ever that they were right in their conjectures and that you’ve got them hidden here.”

“I’ve been thinking of that, too,” said Lord Delamarne, “and so am going to put everything into the care of my bank, of course under seal so that they won’t know what they are keeping for me.”

“But you can’t drop the Embassy a postcard,” smiled Larose, “telling them what you’ve done. You can’t broadcast your valuables are no longer here, and the stakes are so high that the Baltic crowd certainly won’t let the matter drop.”

“But what can I do?” asked his lordship, looking very troubled. “I don’t see that I can do anything.”

“Oh yes, you can,” said Larose, “and I’ve thought of a good way of shaking them off, if you’re game enough to do it.” He spoke impressively. “You must have a fire down in those vaults and make out you’ve lost all your valuable silver collection. You must broadcast that the vaults have been gutted.”

His lordship frowned. “But that would mean I could never make any more use of the vaults,” he said.

“No, it wouldn’t,” said Larose, “for you could confine the fire to exactly where you wanted it. There’s only all that dried woodwork which would burn, and the fire couldn’t spread up to the castle.”

“It certainly couldn’t do that,” agreed his lordship. “The ceiling of the vaults is all stonework and above that there must be nearly sixty feet of earth baked as hard as cement before you come to the floors of the castle itself.”

“But if you do it,” said Larose, “you must make a thorough job of it and give out that the best part of your silver has gone. A great hullabaloo must be made, so that it gets plenty of publicity. Well, you think over the idea and, if you approve of it, I’ll help you to carry it out.”

He turned the conversation and spoke very seriously. “Now about the shooting of those two men and getting rid of the bodies in the way we have done — as far as I can see there is only one danger of discovery and that may possibly come”— he eyed his lordship intently —“from your nephew, young Avon.”

“But he won’t say anything,” said his lordship instantly. “He’d be the last one to speak. You must have seen for yourself how dreadfully upset he was last night.”

“I did,” nodded Larose, “and that I think is the danger. He’s got plenty of courage, but remember he’s only a boy and a very sensitive one at that. Probably he’s never actually killed anyone before, and now to have taken two lives himself may prey upon his mind and make him become morbid. It’ll be continually in his thoughts and he’ll dwell and dwell on it and, perhaps one day in a remorseful mood, even blurt it out to some sympathetic stranger.”

“Oh, I don’t think he’d ever do that,” said his lordship quickly. “He’s got sense enough to realise how terrible for us all the consequences would be.”

“But conscience is a strange thing, my lord,” said Larose very solemnly, “and in some people may almost take on a condition of disease. Then they become weak as water and take no thought of consequences. All they think of is to bring ease to their minds by confiding their troubles to someone.” He smiled. “However, with your nephew we can prevent all chance of that by altering his whole way of life for him and giving him something else to think of.” He spoke apologetically. “Forgive my interference, my lord,” he hesitated just a moment, “but what about marrying him to that pretty secretary of yours?”

Lord Delamarne’s face was almost without expression, except that he was now staring hard at Larose. The latter went on quickly, “Overlook her not being in the same social class as she is, for she is a girl of fine character and, as we saw last night, of good courage too. She’d be just the very one, so to speak, to take possession of his mind and order his way of life for him.” He lowered his voice darkly. “Besides, as his wife she could never be asked to give evidence against him. Now what do you think about it?”

His lordship spoke almost casually. “I have already considered the matter, Mr. Larose,” he replied. His face broke into an amused smile. “With the result that I have decided they are to be married practically straight away. As you say, the boy needs looking after, and I agree with you that my secretary will be the one to do it properly.”

“Good, very good, my lord,” exclaimed Larose, his face all smiles. “Are they interested in each other, do you know?”

“Well, they’ve exchanged kisses in the conservatory,” said his lordship. “They didn’t know I saw them, but I did, and so we may assume they were not physically distasteful to each other. Besides,” and he spoke dryly, “Miss Penelope Smith is a young lady who will always love rather with her head than with her heart. So, if she’s not an ardent mistress to him, at least she’ll be a good mother.”

“But she’ll be more than that,” said Larose. “He’s a good-looking young fellow and she’s nothing of a cold type of woman.” He laughed. “You see if they don’t supply you with a good line of heirs and heiresses in a very short time.” He spoke briskly. “Now I’ve got the car key I took out of Michaeloff’s pocket, so if you’ll lend me a bicycle I’ll go out and find the car. I’ll have to drive it a good way away, as it had better not be found anywhere near here.”

He went off to look for it and, rather to his lordship’s anxiety, did not return until the afternoon was far advanced. He was looking very pleased with himself. “I’ve made a real good job of it,” he smiled. “I found it easily enough in that little lane that turns off about a couple of hundred yards from the gates, and drove it a good twenty miles away where it now lies hidden under six or seven feet of water in a pool in a disused quarry off the Fakenham–Swaffham road. It may not be found for years and years.”

His lordship looked very relieved. “But what a long way to have taken it!” he exclaimed.

“Yes, and the ride back on the bicycle,” said Larose, “has made me pretty stiff, I can tell you.” He laughed happily. “But it was a pleasant ride for all that, as I was chuckling all the time thinking of the puzzle that blessed Embassy’ll be in. No captain, no other blackguard, no crown jewels, and no car! What the devil will they imagine can have happened?” He nodded. “They may even be suspicious of that precious major, thinking perhaps that he’s double-crossed them and, bumping off the other two, vamoosed with jewels, car and everything.”

“You took off the number plates, of course?” asked Lord Delamarne.

“Yes, and buried them a long way from the quarry,” said Larose, “in a wood. Also the number of the engine is filed off. So we’re all right there, too.”

Lord Delamarne began again to express his gratitude to Larose, but the latter at once cut him short. “It’s all been a great pleasure to me,” he laughed, “an adventure upon which I shall always look back upon in happy remembrance. You know, they used to say at the Yard that in reality I was as big a criminal as any I’d sent to the seven-foot drop.”

His lordship laughed back. “And I suppose that if everything were known they’d consider me a bad criminal, too.” He shrugged his shoulders. “But I’m quite a law-abiding old man if people only leave me alone.”

With Larose having left the castle, Lord Delamarne went up to his nephew’s room. The boy’s ankle was very swollen, and it was evident he would have to lie up for several days. His uncle told him Larose had hidden the bodies where they could never be found.

“So you can put the whole thing out of your mind,” he said, “and forget it as if it had never happened.” He went on a tone kinder, so the boy thought, than he had ever used to him before, “I’m very proud of you, Chester. You played a man’s part last night and for reward I’m going to make you a very handsome present.”

Chester got very red. “But it was really all due to Penelope,” he said. “She arranged everything. She urged me on, and but for her”— he looked uncomfortable —“I confess I might never have dared to shoot them.” He brightened up. “So she deserves the reward more than anyone, sir.”

His lordship nodded. “I am most grateful to you both and she is going to share the reward with you. It is going to be a joint one.”

Chester looked very puzzled. “And what will it be, sir?” he asked.

“A wedding breakfast,” smiled his lordship, “after you’ve become man and wife in the chapel here. You are to ask her to marry you.”

Chester was furiously red now. “You — you wish me to ask her, sir?” he said stammeringly. He shook his head. “But I don’t think she’ll want to. She’s told me more than once that I’m not interesting enough for her to fall in love with.”

“Well, you propose to her properly,” said his lordship, “and I’m sure it will be all right.” He smiled his old grim smile. “I think it was only me she was afraid of. She’s a good girl and would not like to cross my wishes in any way.”

He prepared to leave the room. “I’ll send her up to have a talk with you.”

He found Penelope in the office typing some letters. “My nephew is asking for you, Penelope,” he said. “So you’d better go up and see what he wants.” He patted her upon the shoulder. “I shall always call you Penelope now, as you’re one of the family.”

Penelope coloured up hotly. There was no mistaking the kindness of his words and her heart beat painfully.

“Very well, my lord,” she said, steadying her voice with an effort. “But don’t forget you said these letters must be answered today. So I won’t be gone for long.”

However, it was nearly half an hour before she returned, and she stood before him a very flushed and nervous young woman.

“Well, did he tell you what he wanted?” he asked slyly.

“But it is all your doing, my lord,” she choked. Her eyes filled with tears. “And now that he says he is fond enough of me to want to marry me, I feel such a mean cheap thing, as I started to lead him on almost only as a sort of joke. I wasn’t the least bit in love with him.”

“But you like him, don’t you?” asked his lordship sharply.

“Oh yes, very much,” she replied instantly, “and after last night”— she hesitated just a moment —“if it isn’t love I have for him, it’s a great tenderness. He relied so much upon me then that I feel he needs someone like me to take care of him.”

“Tut, tut, then don’t doubt yourself any more,” said his lordship testily. “I know you’ll make him an excellent wife and I am very pleased you made him fond of you.” He patted her on the shoulder again. “You’re a good girl, Penelope, and I don’t think you’re quite all the little schemer you want to make out you are.”

Penelope heaved a big sigh, half in joke and half in earnest. “But, my lord,” she said as if very regretfully, “now I am an adventuress no longer.”

“And you’ve no need to be,” he smiled. “So you can just prepare yourself to settle down into the ordinary humdrum married life.” He shrugged his shoulders. “And if, at any rate, it is partly my doing, I am quite honest in saying that I have never done anything with more pleasure in all my life.” He pretended to frown. “Now, please, Miss Smith, will you get on with these letters at once.”

In the next few ensuing weeks things moved very quickly in Blackarden Castle. With the speedy bricking up again of the broad way leading down to the vaults, the grisly secret that they held seemed to have passed altogether out of the minds of both Penelope and Chester Avon and no longer troubled them.

To Penelope, as the affianced wife of his heir and destined to carry on the Blackarden line, the old lord was now according a great respect, not unmixed in his grim stern way with real affection. That he was most grateful to her she was well aware, though it was with considerable hesitation that she accepted from him a generous cheque to provide herself with a trousseau.

Young Avon was in the seventh heaven of happiness and with Penelope regarding him with ever-mounting affection he blossomed out, even under his uncle’s stern unsmiling eyes, as a young man of spirit, very different from the one-time shy and timid boy. In due time the wedding was celebrated very quietly in the castle chapel where for six hundred years and more the lords of Blackarden and their heirs had received the marriage sacrament, and they set off for a month’s honeymoon in Devonshire and Cornwall.
*     *     *     *     *

We must now go back to the day following on the night of those momentous happenings in the castle vaults, when Mangan had returned to Town in such an evil temper because, as he was imagining, Captain Michaeloff had left the bungalow by the sea without waiting for him.

All that evening he remained at home in his flat in Fitzroy Square, confidently expecting that the very least the captain would do was to give him a ring and inform him exactly what had happened the previous night in the vaults of Blackarden Castle. However, to his mounting anger no ring came and, having waited until nine o’clock, he rang up the Embassy himself.

A girl answered the phone and said Captain Michaeloff was away from Town and it was not known when he would return. Asking who it was who was wanting him, Mangan replied curtly, “Mr. Smith.” The following morning he rang up again. The same girl answered the phone and as before said that the captain was away. Ringing yet again the afternoon, Mangan received the same answer. That evening for the fourth time he rang up. “Oh, it’s you, is it, Mr. Smith?” said the girl at once. “Then I have a message for you. Will you please call here to-night at nine o’clock,” and Mangan replied sharply that he would.

By this time he had worked himself up into a state of fury at the offhand way in which he considered he was being treated. As he had received no information from the captain that the search for the jewels had been an unsuccessful one, he was taking it for granted that they had been found, and with no one ringing up to tell him that was so was of the opinion that the prospect of his getting his agreed share did not look at all rosy. Quite likely, he told himself, having got all the help out of him that they had wanted, they were now intending, with some excuse, to freeze him out altogether and give him nothing.

He swore savagely. Well, he would show them pretty quickly he was by no means the sort of man who could be treated like that!

So it was in the worst of humours that he arrived at the Embassy at nine o’clock. Declining curtly to give his name to the footman who answered the door, he just said he had an appointment with Captain Michaeloff.

“Oh yes, sir,” said the footman at once. “Will you please come this way,” and he was shown into a room different from that into which he had been accustomed to go when visiting Captain Michaeloff. There was no one in the room, but almost immediately a soldierly-looking man in evening clothes appeared and closed the door very carefully behind him. He bowed coldly to Mangan, and did not offer to shake hands.

“Major Mangan?” he asked. “I am General Volgorod,” and Mangan knew he was in the presence of His Excellency the Ambassador.

A short silence followed, with the two men regarding each other intently. Then the Ambassador asked frowningly, “You’ve come with news of Captain Michaeloff?”

Mangan scowled. He was by no means awed by the Ambassador and as firm as ever in his resolve to stand no nonsense. “I’ve come,” he said sharply, “to know why he has not communicated with me. Yesterday and today I rang up three times, to be told each time that he was not in Town. Then to-night, not an hour ago, I was given to understand he would see me if I came here at nine o’clock.”

The Ambassador’s frown deepened. “But, but,” he said, equally as sharply, “it is from you I am expecting to receive the news of him. We have heard nothing since he left London five days ago. We are getting very anxious. We don’t know what can have happened to him.”

Mangan was sure he was lying and that it was all part of the plan to put him off from his share of the jewels. “But, of course, you must have heard from him,” he said angrily. “Those three nights ago I let him into Blackarden Castle and the following morning when I called round at the bungalow I saw that he and his car had gone.”

In his anxiety the Ambassador ignored Mangan’s rude and disrespectful manner. “Then he can’t have gone back there at all,” he said earnestly. He threw out his hands. “This morning I sent one of my officers the long journey to that bungalow and he got back only a few minutes before you rang up to-night. He found the place shut up, as you tell me you did, but he got in through a window and saw that to all appearances no one had been in the place for some days. He says all the food was either stale or had gone bad, and all the cakes of soap in the rooms were hard and dry.” He looked very troubled. “Now what has happened, Major Mangan? You must be able to tell us something.”

Mangan did not make any reply. He stared harder than ever at the Ambassador. The latter went on persuasively, “Come, you can speak quite frankly, Major Mangan. Of course, I know what they were looking for in the castle and the part you were going to play to help them. So you need keep nothing back.”

“I am not keeping anything back,” replied Mangan in a surly tone. “I know nothing I can keep back.”

“But tell me,” went on the Ambassador, “what happened after you had let, as you say, Captain Michaeloff and the man with him into the castle?”

The Ambassador appeared to be so really troubled that for the moment Mangan’s suspicions had in part died down.

“That’s what I want to know,” he said sharply. “I saw them safely into the castle and then, on the captain’s insistence, went back up into my room.”

“And you heard no disturbance during the night?” asked the Ambassador. “Well, what happened the next morning?”

“Nothing happened,” said Mangan. “Everything was just the same as usual. I had my breakfast with one of Lord Delamarne’s daughter and his secretary, and evidently nothing was upsetting them. And it was the same today when I rang up the castle to know how Lieutenant Avon was, as he had sprained his ankle. The daughter answered the phone and she was as chatty and friendly as could be.”

The Ambassador looked most perplexed. “Then what has happened?” he asked. “Two men and a car can’t disappear without leaving any trace.”

“Of course, they can’t,” snapped Mangan, whose suspicions for some reason were now beginning to come back. He eyed the Ambassador intently. “You’ve approached the police, haven’t you, to tell them an Embassy car is missing?”

“How could we?” asked the Ambassador sharply, as if surprised at the question being put. “You know perfectly well that, under the peculiar circumstances, we dare not face any publicity and make any attempt to trace it?”

“And Captain Michaeloff at the wheel would be quite aware of that, wouldn’t he?” asked Mangan dryly. “He would know there would be no danger of his being followed.” He spoke with a sneer that was only half veiled. “Then has it never struck you, your Excellency, that, having now obtained possession of those valuable jewels, the captain may possibly have gone off on an extended holiday to enjoy the proceeds of their sale for himself?”

The Ambassador bristled in rage. “To anyone knowing Captain Michaeloff,” he snarled, “such an idea would occur only to the man of a treacherous mind himself.” He glared angrily at Mangan. “Captain Michaeloff was the soul of honour, sir, and one of the most trusted officers we have.”

Mangan shrugged his shoulders. “Well, the whole business seems devilish suspicious to me and I tell you that straight. It looks uncommonly like an excuse to avoid paying me the share I was promised.”

The Ambassador’s face went black as thunder, but his only answer was to push viciously on the bell and, the footman appearing, he said quietly, “Show this gentleman out,” and Mangan took his departure with an ironical bow.

The now very worried Ambassador at once summoned the attache who was next to Captain Michaeloff in importance at the Embassy, and related to him everything that had taken place.

“But I wouldn’t trust that fellow a yard,” he said gloomily. “I am sure he was telling me a whole tissue of lies and it makes things look very black for Michaeloff and Joseph. I believe he betrayed everything to Lord Delamarne, and they took them by surprise and did away with them somehow.” His voice shook. “We shall find they have disappeared just like that other poor fellow did. We shall hear nothing of them again.”

“But their bodies must be hidden somewhere,” said the attache doubtfully.

“Yes, but if they’re not buried in those vaults,” said the ambassador with a deep sigh, “how easy to have weighted them and buried them out to sea at night. Remember how resourceful that Major was when he was fighting with the patriots in France. We know he wouldn’t hesitate at anything and don’t forget the sea is not far away from Blackarden Castle.”

“Well, we can always give him a taste of his own medicine,” said the attache savagely. “It’s a poor consolation, I know, but he certainly mustn’t be allowed to go off unpunished. Remember we know a great deal more about him and his way of life than he can dream of, and we can easily catch him alone somewhere where the whole thing will be quite safe. The captain was very thorough in finding out everything possible about him before we asked him to help us. So just say the word and I’ll put Boehm on to him at once.”

“But we’ll wait a little while,” said the ambassador, “on the chance, the very slender one I am afraid, that some news may yet come in.” He passed his hand over his forehead. “This has been a terrible shock.”

And if His Excellency had received one shock, he was speedily going to receive another, as the following morning the newspapers were all featuring a devastating fire which had occurred in Blackarden Castle.

“HISTORIC SEVEN-HUNDRED-YEAR OLD CASTLE IN DANGER”

ran the headlines,

“THE VAULTS AND UNDERGROUND PARTS OF BLACKARDEN CASTLE GUTTED BY FIRE.”

“LORD DELAMARNE LOSES HIS PRICELESS COLLECTION OF OLD SILVER.”

It appeared that the previous afternoon dense clouds of black smoke had suddenly been seen issuing from the Castle chimneys and, with no accounting for them from any fire within the habited part of the Castle, it was at once realised that the conflagration must be coming from the underground vaults, the broad stairway down to which had been bricked off nearly a hundred years ago, leaving only a narrow, and to most people an unknown and secret one, leading up into Lord Delamarne’s study.

“The Fire Brigade from Norwich was soon upon the scene,” went on one of the papers, “and the brick wall forbidding access to the dungeons was at once battered down to get at the flames below where a great quantity of very dry woodwork was burning furiously. Happily, the conflagration being so far below, it could not travel up to the Castle itself and was quickly mastered. However, it is understood that Lord Delamarne has lost all his valuable collection of old silver, which for safety had been stored in a room he had fitted up for himself among the vaults. It is believed the fire originated in a fault in the electric light system his lordship had recently installed.”

“And that means, too,” sighed the Baltic ambassador, “that the Crown jewels have gone for ever. What a calamity, as there must have been millions of pounds worth still there!”

Of course, Mangan had read all about the fire, and he thought it gave him a splendid excuse for motoring down to the Castle at the week-end, not only to sympathise with his lordship, but to see how young Avon was getting on, as well. He was hoping, too, that he might be able to determine from Lord Delamarne’s manner if any great calamity, such as the loss of the Crown jewels, had happened to him. He thought, also, that a little tactful pumping of the pretty secretary might tell him something. Undoubtedly, she would be more or less in his lordship’s confidence.

Joan answered the phone and had just started to tell him about the fire when she broke off suddenly and said, “But Miss Smith is here and she says she has something very important to say to you.”

Penelope spoke in a business-like and matter of fact way, at once cutting short his starting to speak about the fire. “Never mind about that,” she said sharply. “I want to speak to you about something else, and I should have rung you up today if you hadn’t come on the phone now.” Her tone of voice was most decisive. “I have to tell you, Major Mangan, that I have become engaged to Mr. Avon and, as his future wife, it is my wish that the friendship between him and you should cease at once.”

Mangan could not believe his cars. “What, what did you say?” he asked, with his eyes screwed up in his perplexity.

“You heard quite well,” returned Penelope coldly. “It is my wish and Lord Delamarne’s as well, he bids me expressly to tell you so, that you should hold no more communications with any of us, no phoning, no writing and no more visiting here. I can’t put it plainer than that.”

Mangan’s voice was harsh in his fury and amazement. “But I demand some explanation,” he began, “and ——”

Penelope interrupted calmly. “The only explanation I shall give you,” she said, “is that before coming here I was a journalist for some years and learnt enough about your way of living then to be quite sure your continued friendship with Mr. Avon is not to his best interests. Good morning, Major Mangan,” and the telephone went dead.

Mangan’s mouth was very dry and his face was black in anger. Never had he been so insulted before! What did it really mean, too? Had they come to learn anything of the part he had played that night at the Castle, or had they heard anything of the accusations the police had brought against him in connection with Professor Glenowen’s death? No, he didn’t think he need consider either of those contingencies. It was probably only that the little —— he called her a bad word, having been successful in trapping that weak young fool, Avon, into a promise of marriage, was jealous of his, Mangan’s, influence over him, and so had poisoned the old lord’s mind with some bits of scandal which, as a journalist, she had picked up about the money he was supposed to have won at cards. Yes, that was what it was! It was humiliating as well as annoying, but for the moment he could think of no practical way of venting his spite upon them.

So, as far as possible he put it all out of his mind, as he had plenty of other things to worry him. Trade had been bad in the art world and, knowing the police were now watching every step he took there, he had had to give up, at any rate for the time being, the most lucrative side of his business. He dared no longer to act as a fence, and had reluctantly refused many what would have been very profitable purchases. Added to that, he had been losing heavily at the races. Upon one wretched animal alone he had dropped over a thousand pounds. Altogether, things were in a bad way with him and, to keep his head above water, he saw he must soon dip into some of that money he had buried in his shack on Canvey Island. The idea of doing that frightened him, as he had not dared to go near the place since the morning he had placed the money he had taken from the Professor’s safe there. He was always so fearful that the police had devised some subtle way of trailing him, exactly as they had once succeeded in following him to his flat.

In the meanwhile, if the police might have lost some of their interest in his doings, those at the Baltic Embassy had certainly not. Ten days having now passed with no news of their two missing men, they were regarding with sinister significance that Mangan had made no further enquiries at the Embassy as to whether they had heard anything more of them.

“There is no need for him to enquire,” scoffed the Ambassador to the second attache who had now stepped into Captain Michaeloff’s place. “He knows what’s happened to them and, no doubt by now, has been well rewarded for his treachery. With his record as a killer to be hired well known to us, we were foolish to have trusted him. Yes, we’ll put Boehm on to him at once, but we must be sure to find some place where he can be dealt with so that it’ll look as if robbery were the only motive for what has happened.”

And, in their judgment, the ideal place was found when it was learnt that Mangan had a bungalow upon Canvey Island, at certain unseasonable times as lonely a place as any assassin could wish for, and occasionally went down there at weekends. The knowledge came to them in this way.

When those at the Baltic Embassy became interested in anyone, either in a friendly or unfriendly way, it was their custom to find out everything they could about him and tabulate it for future reference. Nothing was too insignificant to put down, the man’s friends and acquaintances, his habits and likes and dislikes, his recreations, and even matters of slight interest that he might............