as rather a long one, and he began to feel a curious,
nervous craving to reach the end of it--to be, that is, out in the hall.

But just before they reached the end of the passage the men about him
closed round Alfred Head. He felt himself seized, it seemed to him from
every side, not roughly, but with a terribly strong muscular grip.

"What is this?" he cried in a loud voice. Even as he spoke, he wondered
if he could be dreaming--if this was the horrible after effect of the
strain he had just gone through.

For a moment only he struggled, and then, suddenly, he submitted. He
knew what it was he wished to save; it was the watch chain to which were
attached the two keys of the safe in his bedroom. He wore them among a
bunch of old-fashioned Georgian seals which he had acquired in the way
of business, and he had had the keys gilt, turned to a dull gold colour,
to match the seals. It was possible, just possible, that they might
escape the notice of these thick-witted men about him.

"What does this mean?" he demanded; and then he stopped, for there rose
a distant sound of crying and screaming in the quiet place.

"What is that?" he cried, startled.

The police inspector came forward; he cleared his throat. "I'm sorry to
tell you, Head"--he spoke quite civilly, even kindly--"that we've had to
arrest your wife, too."

"This is too much! She is a child--a mere child! Innocent as a baby
unborn. An Englishwoman, too, as you know well, Mr. Watkins. They must
be all mad in this town--it is quite mad to suspect my poor little
Polly!"

The inspector was a kindly man, naturally humane, and he had known the
prisoner for a considerable number of years. As for poor Polly, he had
always been acquainted with her family, and had seen her grow up from a
lovely child into a very pretty girl.

"Look here!" he said. "It's no good kicking up a row. Unluckily for her,
they found the key with which they opened your safe in her possession.
D'you take my meaning?"

Alfred Head grew rather white. "That's impossible!" he said confidently.
"There are but two keys, and I have them both."

The other looked at him with a touch of pity. "There must have been a
third key," he said slowly. "I've got it here myself. It was hidden away
in an old-fashioned dressing-case. Besides, Mrs. Head didn't put up any
fight. But if she can prove, as she says, that she knows no German, and
that you didn't know she had a key of the safe--for that's what she
s