“Now, now!” broke in Mr. Lindsey, patting her arm.  “There’s a good half-dozen of us with him now, and we’ll take good care no harm comes to him or any of us; so be a good lass and get you home to Andrew—­and tell him all about it, for the worthy man’s got a bee in his bonnet that we’ve been in some way responsible for your absence, my girl.  You’re sure you never set eyes on Sir Gilbert again after he and Hollins stopped you?” he asked suddenly, as we went down the stair.  “Nor heard his voice down here—­or anywhere?”

“I never saw him again, nor heard him,” answered Maisie.  “And till Hugh came just now, I’d never seen Hollins himself since morning and—­Oh!”

She had caught sight of the still figure stretched out in the lower room, and she shrank to me as we hurried her past it and down to the gateway below.  Thither Murray followed us, and after a bit more questioning he put her in a car in which he and some of the others had come up, and sent one of his men off with her; but before this Maisie pulled me away into the darkness and gripped me tight by the arm.

“You’ll promise me, Hugh, before ever I go, that you’ll not run yourself into any more dangers?” she asked earnestly.  “We’ve been through enough of that, and I’m just more than satisfied with it, and it’s like as if there was something lurking about—­”

She began to shiver as she looked into the black night about us—­and it was indeed, although in summer time, as black a night as ever I saw—­and her hand got a tighter grip on mine.

“How do you know yon bad man isn’t still about?” she whispered.  “It was he killed Hollins, of course!—­and if he wanted to kill you yon time in the yacht, he’ll want again!”

“It’s small chance he’ll get, then, now!” I said.  “There’s no fear of that, Maisie—­amongst all yon lot of men above.  Away you go, now, and get to your bed, and as sure as sure I’ll be home to eat my breakfast with you.  It’s my opinion all this is at an end.”

“Not while yon man’s alive!” she answered.  “And I’d have far rather stayed with you—­till it’s daylight, anyway.”

However, she let me put her into the car; and when I had charged the policeman who went with her not to take his eyes off her until she was safe in Andrew Dunlop’s house, they went off, and Mr. Lindsey and I turned up the stair again.  Murray had preceded us, and under his superintendence Chisholm was beginning to open the screwed-up boxes.  The rest of us stood round while this job was going on, waiting in silence.  It was no easy or quick job, for the screws had been fastened in after a thoroughly workmanlike fashion, and when he got the first lid off we saw that the boxes themselves had been evidently specially made for this purpose.  They were of some very strong, well-seasoned wood, and they were lined, first with zinc, and then with thick felt.  And—­as we were soon aware—­they were filled to the brim with gold.  There it lay—­roll upon roll, all carefully packed—­gold!  It shone red and fiery in the light of our lamps, and it seemed to me that in every gleam of it I saw devils’ eyes, full of malice, and mockery, and murder.