Round and round the Regent’s Park Circle the cab moved slowly, and all the time he was piecing together a version which would sound plausible. He had known Thomas; was aware that the man was dismissed, but did not know his criminal connections. The man had asked for shelter for a few days, and in charity Gilder had given it to him. He himself was in London when the crime was committed; had unchallengeable alibis if necessary.

Perhaps he was exaggerating the seriousness of the situation, he thought. Putting his head out of the window, he directed the driver to take him to Regency Mansions. He had forgotten his key; had to ring the bell, and the maid who opened the door handed him the post, which had arrived a few minutes before. He examined the three letters carefully: none was from Leslie. But at the moment he was too occupied with the happenings at Chelfordbury to be disappointed.

And then came a thunderbolt.

“Mr Arthur Gine is waiting for you in the library,” said the girl.

“Mr Gine!” he said in astonishment. “When did he come?”

“Ten minutes ago, sir.”

“Oh!” said Gilder blankly.

Had she sent her brother instead of a letter? Had she told him? Well, it was a situation that had to be faced.

He walked carelessly into the little library and found Arthur Gine sitting in one of the easiest chairs, a book in his hand, a half-smoked cigar between his teeth.

“Good morning, Gilder.”

His voice was cheerful and almost amiable, and for a moment Mr Gilder’s heart leapt. This was a friendly ambassador sent by the girl to make the necessary arrangements.

“I think we’d better forget all that’s passed,” said Arthur. “We both lost our tempers, and there’s no sense in keeping the old trouble alive. You don’t mind my smoking?”

He replaced the book he had taken from one of the shelves, dusted his knees carefully and then laughed.

“You’re thinking of marrying Leslie, I understand?”

Gilder nodded, watching his visitor closely.

“Expecting a letter from her? Well, I’m afraid you won’t get it.”

“Why not?” asked the other, with a sudden tightening at his heart.

“Because friend Thomas, who spent the evening in wholesale robbery – incidentally, he stole a very ancient dagger from my hall, a silver teapot and a few other etceteras – added to his infamy by attempting to rob a letter box. He didn’t succeed in opening the box, but he put the lock out of order.”

Gilder breathed again. “So there was no collection, eh?” he said huskily. “Well, that is rather a relief.”

There was a quizzical smile in Arthur Gine’s eyes; the discoloration on the left cheek had faded to a pale green.

“I understand you’re going to help me?”

“I am going to get you out of your trouble, yes.”