Pagett had already unfastened the cases through an excess of zeal. Before leaving the hotel, I simply transferred all the rolls of films to my own pocket. They are in the corner there. I admit that I haven't had time to examine them yet, but I notice that one is of a totally different weight to the others, rattles in a peculiar fashion, and has evidently been stuck down with seccotine, which will necessitate the use of a tin-opener. The case seems clear, does it not? And now, you see, I have you both nicely in the trap.… It's a pity that you didn't take kindly to the idea of becoming Lady Pedler."
I did not answer. I stood looking at him.
There was the sound of feet on the stairs, the door was flung open, and Harry Rayburn was hustled into the room between two men. Sir Eustace flung me a look of triumph.
"According to plan," he said softly. "You amateurs will pit yourselves against professionals."
"What's the meaning of this?" cried Harry hoarsely.
"It means that you have walked into my parlour—said the spider to the fly," remarked Sir Eustace facetiously. "My dear Rayburn, you are extraordinarily unlucky."
"You said I could come safely, Anne?"
"Do not reproach her, my dear fellow. That note was written at my dictation, and the lady could not help herself. She would have been wiser not to write it, but I did not tell her so at the time. You followed her instructions, went to the curio-shop, were taken through the secret passage from the back room—and found yourself in the hands of your enemies!"
Harry looked at me. I understood his glance and edged nearer to Sir Eustace.
"Yes," murmured the latter, "decidedly you are not lucky! This is—let me see, the third encounter."
