“And I will accomplish it—­as I’m a living man, I will!  You may go home feeling assured of that.  Look for my men some time before dusk, Sir Horace—­I will arrive later.  They will come in one at a time.  See that they are admitted by the area door, and that, once in, not one of them leaves the house again before I put in an appearance.  I’ll look them over when I arrive to be sure that there’s no wolf in sheep’s clothing amongst them.  With a fellow like that—­a diabolical rascal with a diabolical gift for impersonation—­one can’t be too careful.  Meantime, it is just as well not to have confided this news to your daughters, who, naturally, would be nervous and upset; but I assume that you have taken some one of the servants into your confidence in order that nobody may pass them and enter the house under any pretext whatsoever?”

“No, I have not.  Miss Lorne advised against it, and, as I am always guided by her, I said nothing of the matter to anybody.”

“Was that wrong, do you think, Mr. Narkom?” queried Ailsa anxiously.  “I feared that if they knew they might lose their heads, and that my cousins, who are intensely nervous and highly emotional, might hear of it, and add to our difficulties by becoming hysterical and demanding our attention at a time when we ought to be giving every moment to watching for the possible arrival of that man.  And as he has always lived up to the strict letter of his dreadful promises heretofore, I knew that he was not to be expected before nightfall.  Besides, the jewels are locked up in the safe in Sir Horace’s consulting-room, and his assistant, Mr. Merfroy, has promised not to leave it for one instant before we return.”

“Oh, well, that’s all right, then.  I dare say there is very little likelihood of our man getting in whilst you and Sir Horace are here, and taking such a risk as stopping in the house until nightfall to begin his operations.  Still, it was hardly wise, and I should advise hurrying back as fast as possible and taking at least one servant—­the one you feel least likely to lose his head—­into your confidence, Sir Horace, and putting him on the watch for my men.  Otherwise, keep the matter as quiet as you have done, and look for me about nine o’clock.  And rely upon this as a certainty:  the Vanishing Cracksman will never get away with even one of those jewels if he enters that house to-night, and never get out of it unshackled!”

With that, he suavely bowed his visitors out and rang up the pick of his men without an instant’s delay.

Promptly at nine o’clock he arrived, as he had promised, at Wyvern House, and was shown into Sir Horace’s consulting-room, where Sir Horace himself and Miss Lorne were awaiting him, and keeping close watch before the locked door of a communicating apartment in which sat the six men who had preceded him.  He went in and put them all and severally through a rigid examination—­pulling their hair and beards, rubbing their faces with a clean handkerchief in quest of any trace of “make-up” or disguise of any sort, examining their badges and the marks on the handcuffs they carried with them to make sure that they bore the sign which he himself had scratched upon them in the privacy of his own room a couple of hours ago.