It appeared that save for four maidservants, a page, two dogs, three gardeners, and the kitchen-clerk, Mrs Gater was alone in the Hall.  During the late afternoon and early evening they had all been to assist at a rat-catching in the stables, and the burglar must have been aware of this.  It passed Mrs Gater’s comprehension how the criminal had got clear away out of the gardens and park, for to set up a hue and cry had been with her the work of a moment.  She could not be sure whether he had taken any valuable property, but the inventory was being checked.  Though surely for her an inventory was scarcely necessary, as she had been housekeeper at Sneyd Hall for six-and-twenty years, and might be said to know the entire contents of the mansion by heart!  The police were at work.  They had studied footprints and debris.  There was talk of obtaining detectives from London.  Up to the time of going to press, no clue had been discovered, but Mrs Gater was confident that a clue would be discovered, and of her ability to recognise the burglar when he should be caught.  His features, as seen in the moonlight, were imprinted on her mind for ever.  He was a young man, well dressed.  The Earl had telegraphed, offering a reward of L20 for the fellow’s capture.  A warrant was out.

So it ran on.

Denry saw clearly all the errors of tact which he had committed on the previous day.  He ought not to have entered uninvited.  But having entered, he ought to have held firm in quiet dignity until the housekeeper came, and then he ought to have gone into full details with the housekeeper, producing his credentials and showing her unmistakably that he was offended by the experience which somebody’s gross carelessness had forced upon him.

Instead of all that, he had behaved with simple stupidity, and the result was that a price was upon his head.  Far from acquiring moral impressiveness and influential aid by his journey to Sneyd Hall, he had utterly ruined himself as a founder of a Universal Thrift Club.  You cannot conduct a thrift club from prison, and a sentence of ten years does not inspire confidence in the ignorant mob.  He trembled at the thought of what would happen when the police learned from the Countess that a man with a card on which was the name of Machin had called at Sneyd just before her departure.

However, the police never did learn this from the Countess (who had gone to Rome for the autumn).  It appeared that her maid had merely said to the Countess that “a man” had called, and also that the maid had lost the card.  Careful research showed that the burglar had been disturbed before he had had opportunity to burgle.  And the affair, after raising a terrific bother in the district, died down.

Then it was that an article appeared in the Signal, signed by Denry, and giving a full picturesque description of the state apartments at Sneyd Hall.  He had formed a habit of occasional contributions to the Signal.  This article began:—­