“So shall we all be soon.”

The lieutenant changed his seat and the two burly forms took places side by side.  In less than five minutes the car stopped again, this time in a grassy country lane.

“Now we have to face it,” announced Carrados.  “The inspector will show us the way.”

The car slid round and disappeared into the night, while Beedel led the party to a stile in the hedge.  A couple of fields brought them to the Brookbend boundary.  There a figure stood out of the black foliage, exchanged a few words with their guide and piloted them along the shadows of the orchard to the back door of the house.

“You will find a broken pane near the catch of the scullery window,” said the blind man.

“Right, sir,” replied the inspector.  “I have it.  Now who goes through?”

“Mr. Hollyer will open the door for us.  I’m afraid you must take off your boots and all wet things, Lieutenant.  We cannot risk a single spot inside.”

They waited until the back door opened, then each one divested himself in a similar manner and passed into the kitchen, where the remains of a fire still burned.  The man from the orchard gathered together the discarded garments and disappeared again.

Carrados turned to the lieutenant.

“A rather delicate job for you now, Mr. Hollyer.  I want you to go up to your sister, wake her, and get her into another room with as little fuss as possible.  Tell her as much as you think fit and let her understand that her very life depends on absolute stillness when she is alone.  Don’t be unduly hurried, but not a glimmer of a light, please.”

Ten minutes passed by the measure of the battered old alarum on the dresser shelf before the young man returned.

“I’ve had rather a time of it,” he reported, with a nervous laugh, “but I think it will be all right now.  She is in the spare room.”

“Then we will take our places.  You and Parkinson come with me to the bedroom.  Inspector, you have your own arrangements.  Mr. Carlyle will be with you.”

They dispersed silently about the house.  Hollyer glanced apprehensively at the door of the spare room as they passed it, but within was as quiet as the grave.  Their room lay at the other end of the passage.

“You may as well take your place in the bed now, Hollyer,” directed Carrados when they were inside and the door closed.  “Keep well down among the clothes.  Creake has to get up on the balcony, you know, and he will probably peep through the window, but he dare come no farther.  Then when he begins to throw up stones slip on this dressing-gown of your sister’s.  I’ll tell you what to do after.”

The next sixty minutes drew out into the longest hour that the lieutenant had ever known.  Occasionally he heard a whisper pass between the two men who stood behind the window curtains, but he could see nothing.  Then Carrados threw a guarded remark in his direction.