“Call him off,” Venables said excitedly. “The brute is dangerous. By Jove, what a fool I am! I thought at first that this was one of our friend Valdo’s bodyguard, but I see now that it is your dog, Lord Ravenspur. I suppose he has managed to get away again.”
“Oh, it’s Bruno right enough,” Ravenspur said. “Probably Perks fastened him up insecurely. But he must not be allowed to roam about here. Do you happen to have a dog collar and chain in your pocket, Perks? If so, I’ll go and chain him up to one of those trees by the side of the lane.”
Perks grinned, and produced the necessary collar and lead. In the course of his business he rarely travelled without one of these, though he looked dubiously at the leather strap, and opined that is was not much good for so great a beast as Bruno.
“I think that will be all right,” Lord Ravenspur said. “The dog is well trained, and if I tell him to stop there I am sure he will. At any rate, I don’t suppose he will move until we have this business finished. Now, come along, sir.”
The great beast trotted along, more or less dejectedly, by his master’s side, and a moment or two later he was lying at the foot of a small tree just by the gate leading to the lane. Ravenspur hurried back to his companions. He had hoped by this time that something had happened. He was seriously alarmed to find the house still in darkness, and no sign of Walter anywhere.
“This is very disturbing,” he said. “Don’t you think one of you had better go inside and see what has become of my nephew? If that man there has done him any violence—”
“I don’t think so,” Venables interrupted. “After all, the man we are looking for is no fool, and he would most assuredly avoid violence if possible. My dear Lord Ravenspur, you surely did not expect to find Miss Rayne by simply opening the door and going through the house? For my part, I regard this business as only just beginning, and I shall be very much surprised if Miss Rayne is in the house at all. Besides, this man Valdo is certain to be prepared for emergencies of this kind. Suppose he found Walter, and asked him what he was doing there? Suppose he insisted upon showing him all over the house? We will assume that he has proved to Lance that Miss Rayne is not there. He would enjoy that immensely. It would give him far more pleasure than any personal violence. And besides, Walter is quite capable of taking care of himself. Really, we must risk it a little longer. Any undue haste now would ruin our plans.”
Sorely against his convictions Ravenspur allowed the point to pass. A quarter of an hour had elapsed now, and there was no sign of Walter. Ravenspur was about to speak again when suddenly from the lane came something in the way of a diversion. A man’s voice was raised in terror, a frightened scream for help rent the air. As the cry died away, a deep growl of the dog was heard. Without a moment’s hesitation Ravenspur rushed away down the garden and in the direction of the lane.
“There’s no time to be lost,” he cried. “Come along. Unless I am greatly mistaken, Bruno has got hold of some unfortunate wayfarer on his way home.”
It turned out to be exactly as Lord Ravenspur had prophesied. When Perks came up, and turned his lantern on the scene, the outline of a man’s body came into view. The unfortunate individual was lying on his back, the great hound was standing over him, his crest erect, his formidable row of teeth glistening in the light. At one word from lord Ravenspur the dog crouched down, and the stranger, trembling with fright in every limb, was dragged to his feet. Something like a chuckle burst from Perks’ lips.
“You seem to be enjoying yourself, John,” he said.
“I thought the brute was going to tear the throat out of me,” the stranger said. “I came down here on business—”
“What business?” Venables said curtly. “Here, Perks, hold that light a bit higher up so that I can see the fellow’s face. Does he happen to be a friend of yours?”
“We’ve done a bit of business together,” Perks said significantly. “Otherwise, he is not what I would call a friend of mine. He was over at my place early this morning, but I thought he had gone back to town again. What are you looking about here for, John?”
“That’s my business,” the other said sullenly. “The man who fastened that dog up there so close to the lane ought to have six months. I don’t know who he belongs to.”
“He belongs to me,” Lord Ravenspur explained. “There is one thing I will vouch for—if you hadn’t been coming into the garden, that dog would never have touched you. It is no business of mine to ask what you are doing here, for I don’t suppose you would tell me if I did. However, it seems to me—”
“No; but I can tell you,” Venables put in. “This, Lord Ravenspur, is the man John Stevens who gave evidence at the inquest on Louis Delahay. He was the man
