During the three days that followed I kept watch in Cornwall Road, haunting the neighbouring thoroughfares of Ladbroke Grove, Silchester Road, Ledbury Road, and Powis Square, watching the movements of Miss Bristowe, and ever on the alert for the coming of that tall, fair-moustached individual, as the man Purvis had been described.

The girl whom I had found so charming went out often—once down to Catford to visit friends. Apparently she lived in apartments, and did her own shopping. She, however, had no male companion, and so close a watch did I keep upon the house that I arrived at the conclusion that Purvis did not live there after all.

Staffurth had grown very uneasy about his nephew, and although we put our wits together we could devise no plan by which the mystery of his disappearance might be solved. That the persons who were our rivals in the affair would not stick at trifles had already been proved, hence our apprehensions were of the gravest. Not being aware of the identity of these people we were heavily handicapped, for they were most probably cognizant of my every movement while I remained utterly in the dark as to theirs.

Matters were certainly growing serious. I had received a letter from Mr. Kenway telling me that he was compelled to remove his furniture from the Manor House on the morrow, therefore I would be obliged to go down to Caldecott again and do watch-dog duty. It was most important that Reilly should be with me, for I intended to commence a search throughout the house as soon as the Kenways had left. For that reason I bought a pick, shovel, and a quantity of other tools I thought might be useful, and had sent them down, packed in a case in order not to excite suspicion.

Sitting in my own room at Chelsea I pondered over the future, trying to decide upon some judicious plan of action. It was long past midnight. My green-shaded oil lamp was burning low and had already begun to splutter, but I could see no way out of the cul-de-sac. My first thoughts were, of course, for the safety of Philip, and he being still missing I did not feel myself justified in carrying the search farther before the mystery of his disappearance was cleared up.

I had found, on my return home, a letter from Seal, posted from Smyrna. It was a rather grimy note, bluff, brief, and written in that heavy hand that I knew so well in the log of the Thrush. The chief paragraph of the letter ran:?—

“I hope you’ve got something out of Old Mystery by this time and also that you’re full sail, with a fair wind, towards that treasure. Don’t write to me, as I leave to-morrow straight for Fresh Wharf, and hope to see you within a fortnight.”

The clock on my mantelshelf struck two, and I was about to put out my light and turn in, when of a sudden there came a violent ringing of the bell. It startled me at that hour, and pulling aside my curtains I looked down into the street, only to discover, to my joy, that Philip Reilly stood below, looking up anxiously at my window.

“Come down, doc, and let me in!” he cried, and in response I soon unchained the front door and was wringing his hand.

Walking before me he ascended the stairs and not until he had come into the light of my room did I notice the change wrought in him.

“Good heavens, my dear fellow! Wherever have you been?” I cried, glaring at him in surprise, for his clothes seemed half torn from his back, his face dirty with a stubbly beard, as though he had not shaved for a week, while his trousers were caked with mud and his white face bore a nasty cut only half healed. It extended almost from the eye to the chin, and with the blood still caked there, gave him a hideous and forbidding appearance.

“Ah!” he gasped, throwing himself into an arm-chair, “you may well ask. I’ve had a splendid time of it. Have you got a drop of brandy or anything by you? I feel faint.”

He looked it, and I rushed to my cupboard and got out a bottle of Martell and a siphon of soda.

I allowed him to take a long steady drink before questioning him, in the meantime noting the terrible gash on his face. I saw also that his left hand had been cut on the inside.

“Well,” I said, “we’ve all been most anxious about you, fearing something bad had happened. Tell me all about it.”

“Anxious?” he laughed. “Not more anxious than I’ve been about myself, I can tell you. As for what happened, well I must collect my thoughts in order to tell you how it all began and what was the ultimate result. But before I begin I may as well give you my own opinion, and that is, I don’t believe that we shall ever find that treasure.”

“Why not?”

“Because the others know far more about it than we do,” was his reply. “When I resolved to take a share in the investigation I never dreamed that the game could be such a desperate one as it is. By Jove! those fellows would murder both of us without the least compunction. We must go armed in future.”

“But what occurred to you?” I asked, all anxiety to learn the reason of his long silence.

“Well,” he said, finishing his brandy at one gulp; “it happened like this. When I left you I came up to town and started to keep observation on that newsagent’s in Sterndale Road. The job was a terrible wearying one, but I was rewarded on the third evening by seeing the man you described—tall, fair, and freckled—call for a letter. Unobserved by him. I followed him home to St. Peter’s Square, Hammersmith. Then I resolved to exercise a strict vigil over that house in order to find out all about its inmates. During the following day I discovered that Purvis was a bachelor of means and was very often in the habit of receiving visits from men of rather shady character. By constant watchfulness I came to know by sight all these men, five in number, including one named Bennett.”

“Bennett?” I interrupted. “I wonder if he’s Black Bennett?”

“Don’t know,” was my friend’s rejoinder. “I can only tell you that they are as fine specimens of rascally adventurers as can be found at this moment in London. Purvis, being a good billiard player, often spends his evenings at the Crown, in Hammersmith Broadway, playing sometimes with Bennett and sometimes with one or other of his companions. Having obtained this piece of knowledge from observation, I took a bedroom at the Crown, in order that I might be able to saunter into the billiard-room at odd hours. As you know, I can play a fair game, and my object was to get into touch with Purvis by playing with him.

“I had not long to wait, for one evening he was there alone, and having made some casual remarks he invited me to play. From the first he seemed somewhat surprised to find that my form was slightly better than his, and before long I saw from his play that he was used to the ruses of sharks and thieves. He seemed to me to be rather well educated, the kind of man whose exterior was that of a gentleman, but who lives by his wits. He offered to bet me a sovereign on the game, and, in order to content him, I agreed. Very quickly the game was entirely in my hands, but so that he might become friendly I allowed him to win and paid him the sovereign.

“Bennett came in hurriedly just than and whispered something in an undertone, whereupon Purvis excused himself from playing further, put on his coat, and followed his friend out. That mysterious message aroused my curiosity; therefore as soon as the door was closed I threw on my coat and slipped out just in time to see the pair enter a hansom. They drove away and I drove after them, at a respectable distance, in order that they should not detect my vigilance.

“We drove for more than half an hour through Shepherd’s Bush and Kensal Green, until we entered the Edgware Road, near Kilburn Station, and, crossing it, Purvis............