Then the light went up again, but he could see nothing or hear nothing.
Who was Mrs.Rider's mysterious visitor?
There was only one way to discover, but he waited a little longer--waited, in fact, until he heard the soft slam of a safe door closing--before he slipped again through the window and dropped to the ground.
The bicycle was, as he had expected, leaning against one of the pillars.
He could see nothing, and did not dare flash his lamp, but his sensitive fingers ran over its lines, and he barely checked an exclamation of surprise.

It was a lady's bicycle! He waited a little while, then withdrew to a shrubbery opposite the door on the other side of the drive up which the cyclist had come.

He had not long to wait before the door under the portico opened again and closed.
Somebody jumped on to the bicycle as Tarling leaped from his place of concealment.

He pressed the key of his electric lamp, but for some reason it did not act.

He felt rather than heard a shiver of surprise from the person on the machine.
"I want you," said Tarling, and put out his hands.
He missed the rider by the fraction of an inch, but saw the machine swerve and heard the soft thud of something falling.