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"Do you not see the connection, Parker? Oh, well, there is really no reason why you should. All will be made clear to you in due course. Now, you have your revolver handy, I trust?"

"It is in my valise in my room, Pons."

"Good. Just run along and fetch it, there's a good fellow. We may well have need of it before the night is out."

He paused and stared at me somberly.

"Pray heaven we are in time, Parker. Either she is already dead or so ill that she cannot sign documents."

"Good Lord, Pons!" I cried. "If anything has happened to Miss Helstone through our neglect…"

To my astonishment Pons burst out laughing.

"Do not distress yourself, my dear fellow. I was not referring to Miss Helstone at all. You are on entirely the wrong track."

He glanced at his watch.

"It has just turned six o'clock. We have plenty of time. It is a fine night and we will walk, I think. As long as we are at the estate by eight, we shall have ample room to maneuver."

It was a long and lonely walk, on a clear, moonlight night, though bitterly cold. As Pons and I, both heavily muffled, walked along the grass at the side of the road, with the wind whistling through the leafless branches of the trees that came down in thick belts of woodland close to the highway, I could not help reflecting on the anguish and terror that must have animated Miss Helstone when she ran along this same thoroughfare to catch the early morning train to bring her to Pons.

It was just a few minutes to eight when we arrived at the high wall of the estate belonging to The Priory. Pons' eyes were bright in the moonlight and his entire form seemed to radiate energy and determination.

"Now, Parker," he whispered, looking about him keenly. "We will just cast about for the side gate Miss Helstone mentioned. I have a feeling that it may be in use again this evening."

"I do not see how we are to get in, Pons. Basden's people may be watching the entrance there."

"We shall have to risk that, Parker. And I daresay I can get over the wall at a pinch, with the aid of your sturdy shoulders. But come what may, we must get inside The Priory tonight."

I followed Pons as he stepped off the road, and we skirted the wall for something like a quarter of a mile, beneath the dark boughs of overhanging trees.

"We must go carefully now." Pons breathed. "It cannot be far. I questioned Miss Helstone carefully about this gate and it should be somewhere here, according to her description."

As he spoke the moonlight shimmered on a gap in the wall; a few strides more brought us to the gate in question. I looked at Pons swiftly but he had already noted what I had seen. The portal was slightly ajar. I had my revolver out and we crept forward quietly. Pons bent to examine the chain and padlock.

"Our friends are already in the grounds," he whispered. "Cut through with a hacksaw. They must have made some noise. It is my opinion, Parker, that Basden's employers mean to bring the game to them. Which merely substantiates my conclusions."

"I wish I knew what on earth you were talking about, Pons," I murmured irritably.

Solar Pons smiled thinly.

"Just keep your revolver handy, friend Parker, and follow me."

He disappeared quietly through the small gate that pierced.the massive wall and I followed him quickly, finding myself in almost total darkness, the shrubbery grew so thickly and so close to the boundary the other side.

But as we went farther in, treading carefully and taking care to see we made as little noise as possible, the trees fell away and soon we found ourselves near the estate road along which we had driven earlier in the day. There was a strange light in the sky ahead and as we rounded a bend, skirting the drive and keeping well into the tnick undergrowth, the façade of The Priory suddenly sprang sharply into view, clearly etched in the floodlights.

"The little charade seems to be successful," said Pons drily. "Now, just keep a sharp lookout, Parker. You are an excellent shot and I would not like the men who have preceded us through that wicket gate to come upon us unaware."

knelt by his side and looked around somewhat uneasily. We were well concealed here but through the fringe of leafless branches, we had a good view of the house with its lawns and statuary. Even as we settled, the slim figure of Miss Helstone and two small children were descending the steps.

"Ah, they are early this evening, Parker," said Pons with satisfaction. "It seems that things are expected to happen. If I were you, I would just throw off the safety catch of your revolver, there's a good fellow."

I obeyed Pons' injunction, secretly puzzled at his remarks. Our client, after pausing initially at the foot of the steps, was now coming toward us across the grass, while the children shouted and ran in circles about her. Their shadows, caught by the glare of the floodlighting, cast long replicas before them across the lawn.

I was shifting my position when I was almost thrown off balance by my companion seizing my arm.

"There, Parker, there! We are just in time to avert tragedy."

I followed his pointing finger and saw the bushes move at the other side of the drive. Then I became fully aware of what his keen eyes had already discerned. A thin, dark man with a pointed beard, down on one knee, crouched over a black rectangle that glinted as he moved. Pons was up like a flash and running back down the verge, away from the figure in the bushes. I was only a yard away as we crossed the roadway behind him.

"Your bird, I think, Parker," Pons called as the bearded man turned. The flare of light was followed by the slap of the shot, and I heard the bullet whistle somewhere through the bare branches. I was cool now and sighted the revolver carefully as I squeezed the trigger. The rifle went off in the air as the man dropped.

The night was suddenly full of cries and noise; heavy bodies blundered about the bushes. I saw Miss Helstone frozen in mid-stride, the two children running from her. I dropped to the gravel as more shots sounded. Then Pons was beside me and urging me up.

"We must get to the young lady, Parker."

A group of dark figures had jumped down from the terrace and were running down the grass; I heard a whistle shrill. Miss Helstone's face was white as we drew near. But the children were before her. The little girl's face was twisted. I saw the knife glint and was astonished to see Pons fell her with a deft blow from the flat of his hand. The knife fell on the grass and I leveled my revolver at the little boy who was barking orders in a strange, guttural language. He sullenly let the barrel of the pistol in his hand sag toward the ground.

"What does all this mean, Mr. Pons?"

Helen Helstone's face was white, her eyes wide in astonishment.

"That the charade is over, Miss Helstone. You are quite safe now and have nothing to fear."

"I do not understand, Mr. Pons. The children…"

Solar Pons smilingly shook his head and went to help the little girl up. She was quite unhurt and kicked him on the shin for his pains.

"Not children, but midgets, Miss Helstone," said Pons gravely. "Evidently to guard your safety. I will give the prince that much, at any rate."

"What is all this, Pons?" I began when a sullen ring of dark figures closed in on us. Others appeared behind, bringing with them three roughly dressed men with beards; one was wounded and had a bloodstained handkerchief clapped to his wrist. A tall man detached himself from the group that had come from the terrace. He had a commanding air and his eyes glittered.

"Drop that revolver!" he ordered me. "You will find it is a good deal easier to get in than to get out."

Solar Pons smiled pleasantly.

"On the contrary. I beg you not to be foolish. Just inform Prince Mirko that we are here and that we have averted a tragedy."

The big man's face was puzzled. His English was almost perfect but his sudden agitation made him stumble over the words as he replied.