“If that is the case, plainly it will become me to be a little foxy.  I will see if I can contrive to overhear anything from out yonder.”

Bent upon wriggling nearer the closed door revealed by the thread of light near the floor, Nick quietly turned upon his side and cautiously worked his way over the carpet.

He had covered scarce a yard, however, when the sharp, metallic ring of Cervera’s voice fell plainly on his ears.

“Look again, one of you,” she curtly commanded.  “See if that vagabond has come to himself.”

“That’s your humble servant!” thought Nick.

He quickly rolled back to his former position on the floor, and prepared to play the fox.

In a moment the door was thrown open, admitting a flood of light, and a man strode into the room and dropped to his knee beside the motionless detective.

“I say!” he harshly growled, shaking Nick roughly by the shoulder.  “Brace up, you dog!  Brace up, d’ye hear?”

Nick groaned deeply, then slowly opened his eyes.

“Oh, my head—­my poor head!” he muttered, like one dazed and in pain.

“Your poor head, eh?” sneered the other.  “You’re dead lucky to have a head left you.  Pull yourself together, do you hear?”

“Let me be!  Where am I?”

“You’ll soon find out where you are.  Sit up here!”

“What do you say?” cried Venner, from the next room.  “Has he come to?”

The man at Nick’s side turned his head to reply, and Nick then obtained a clear view of his profile.

“Humph!” he mentally ejaculated.  “Matthew Stall in disguise!  One of the diamond gang, sure enough, and I now know I am on the right track.”

“Yes, he’s finally coming to time,” cried Stall, in reply to Venner.  “He will be all right in a minute.”

“Bring him out here,” commanded Cervera, sharply.  “Get the wretch up, and bring him out here.”

This was precisely what Nick wanted.

Stall immediately bent lower, and released the detective’s ankles.

“Get up, you varlet!” he then growled.  “Get up, I say!”

Still groaning, and incoherently muttering, Nick permitted himself to be raised to his feet, and Stall then supported him and urged him out through the open doorway and into the adjoining room.

In his red wig and croppy head, together with his rough attire and dazed aspect, Nick certainly presented a wretched appearance.  He blinked confusedly, glanced down at his bound wrists, yet at the same time took in every feature of the brightly lighted room.

It plainly was the library of the house, and both Rufus Venner and Cervera were seated near a handsome center table.  Upon it lay most of the woman’s jewels and diamonds, evidently lately removed, and presenting in the rays of light from the chandelier above a dazzling temptation to such a fellow as Nick then appeared to be.

In an easy-chair, near the wall, sat the man called Dave, at the time Nick was thought to be dead outside.  Now, in the bright light of the room, Nick instantly recognized him to be David Kilgore, despite a heavy disguise which the criminal obviously believed to be impenetrable.