“It’s a negligee,” said Virginia. “I’m glad you’ve led such a pure life, Bill.”
“I haven’t,” said Bill indignantly.
“You’ve just betrayed the fact. You’re very nice, Bill, and I like you. I dare say that tomorrow morning—say about ten o’clock, a good safe hour for not unduly exciting the emotions—I might even kiss you.”
“I always think these things are best carried out on the spur of the moment,” suggested Bill.
“We’ve other fish to fry,” said Virginia. “If you don’t want to put on a gas mask and a shirt of chain mail, shall we start?”
“I’m ready,” said Bill.
He wriggled into a lurid silk dressing-gown, and picked up a poker.
“The orthodox weapon,” he observed.
“Come on,” said Virginia, “and don’t make a noise.”
They crept out of the room and along the corridor, and then down the wide double staircase. Virginia frowned as they reached the bottom of it.
“Those boots of yours aren’t exactly domes of silence, are they, Bill?”
“Nails will be nails,” said Bill. “I’m doing my best.”
“You’ll have to take them off,” said Virginia firmly.
Bill groaned.
“You can carry them in your hand. I want to see if you can make out what’s going on in the Council Chamber. Bill, it’s awfully mysterious. Why should burglars take a man in armour to pieces?”
“Well, I suppose they can’t take him away whole very well. They disarticulate him, and pack him neatly.”
Virginia shook her head, dissatisfied.
“What should they want to steal a mouldy old suit of armour for? Why, Chimneys is full of treasures that are much easier to take away.”
Bill shook his head.
“How many of them are there?” he asked, taking a firmer grip of his poker.
“I couldn’t see properly. You know what a keyhole is. And they only had a flashlight.”
“I expect they’ve gone by now,” said Bill hopefully.
He sat down on the bottom stair and drew off his boots. Then, holding them in his hand, he crept along the passage that led to the Council Chamber, Virginia close behind him. They halted outside the massive oak door. All was silent within, but suddenly Virginia pressed his arm, and he nodded. A bright light had shown for a minute through the keyhole.
Bill went down on his knees, and applied his eye to the orifice. What he saw was confusing in the extreme. The scene of the drama that was being enacted inside was evidently just to the left, out of his line of vision. A subdued chink every now and then seemed to point to the fact that the invaders were still dealing with the figure in armour. There were two of these, Bill remembered. They stood together by the wall just under the Holbein portrait. The light of the electric torch was evidently being directed upon the operations in progress. It left the rest of the room nearly in darkness. Once a figure flitted across Bill’s line of vision, but there was not sufficient light to distinguish anything about it. It might have been that of a man or a woman. In a minute or two it flitted back again and then the subdued chinking sounded again. Presently there came a new sound, a faint tap-tap as of knuckles on wood.
Bill sat back on his heels suddenly.
“What is it?” whispered Virginia.
“Nothing. It’s no good going on like this. We can’t see anything, and we can’t guess what they’re up to. I must go in and tackle them.”
He drew on his boots and stood up.
“Now, Virginia, listen to me. We’ll open the door as softly as possible. You know where the switch of the electric light is?”
“Yes, just by the door.”
“I don’t think there are more than two of them. There may be only one. I want to get well into the room. Then, when I say ‘Go’ I want you to switch on the lights. Do you understand?”
“Perfectly.”
“And don’t scream or faint or anything. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
“My hero!” murmured Virginia.
Bill peered at her suspiciously through the darkness. He heard a faint sound which might have been either a sob or a laugh. Then he grasped the poker firmly and rose to his feet. He felt that he was fully alive to the situation.
Very softly he turned the handle of the door. It yielded and swung gently inwards. Bill felt Virginia close beside him. Together they moved noiselessly into the room.
At the farther end of the room, the torch was playing upon the Holbein picture. Silhouetted against it was the figure of a man, standing on a chair and gently tapping on the panelling! His back, of course, was to them, and he merely loomed up as a monstrous shadow.
What more they might have seen cannot be told, for at that moment Bill’s nails squeaked upon the parquet floor. The man swung round, directing the powerful torch full upon them and almost dazzling them with the sudden glare.
Bill did not hesitate.
“Go,” he roared to Virginia, and sprang for his man, as she obediently pressed down the switch of the electric lights.
The big chandelier should have been flooded with light; but, instead, all that happened was the click of the switch. The room remained in darkness.
Virginia heard Bill curse freely. The next minute the air was filled with panting, scuffling sounds. The torch had fallen to the ground and extinguished itself in the fall. There was the sound of a desperate struggle going on in the darkness, but as to who was getting the better of it, and indeed as to who was taking part in it, Virginia had no idea. Had there been anyone else in the room besides the man who was tapping the panelling? There might have been. Their glimpse had been only a momentary one.
Virginia felt paralysed. She hardly knew what to do. She dared not try and join in the struggle. To do so might hamper and not aid Bill. Her one idea was to stay in the doorway, so
