CHAPTER XXVII.

Neville staggered back, with a cry of astonishment and incredulity. It was too dark to see the face of the man he had been wrestling with, but there could be no mistaking his voice. How on earth had Lavarick become exchanged for the inspector? “Give me your hand, please, Mr. Neville,” gasped Trale. “You’ve pretty nearly done for me, sir,” and, assisted by Neville, he struggled stiffly to his feet; and after a moment or two spent in rubbing his aching sides, struck a light. The two men stared at each other in the fe…