But the cloud had dropped across his horizon
again, and the sun was once more obscured. There was no smile upon his
lips as he clanged the great front door to behind him.
CHAPTER XI
THE SECRET OF THE FLAMES
Fetchworth, as everybody knows, lies in that part of the Fen district
of Lincolnshire that borders on the coast, and in the curve of its
motherlike arm Saltfleet Bay, a tiny shipping centre with miniature
harbour, drowses its days in pleasant idleness.
And so it was that upon the morning of Cleek's and Mr. Narkom's arrival
at Merriton Towers. They came disguised as two idlers interested in the
surrounding country, after having satiated themselves at the fountain of
London's gaieties, and bore the pseudonyms of "George Headland" and "Mr.
Gregory Lake" respectively. Cleek himself was primed, so to speak, on
every point of the landscape. He knew all about Fetchworth that there was
to know--saving the secret of the Frozen Flames, and that he was expected
to know very soon--and the traffic of Saltfleet Bay and its tiny harbour
was an open book to him.
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