the edge of hell. I don't like to say it, and you
don't know all it means, but in my opinion he has taken a step too far."

Detective Inspector Wessex stood up impatiently. "You have already
talked in that strain to Mr. Harley," he said, a bit brusquely. "Mr.
Innes has reported something of the conversation to me. But I must
ask you to remember that, whereas Mr. Paul Harley is an unofficial
investigator, I am an officer of the Criminal Investigation Department,
and figures of speech are of no use to me. I want facts. I want plain
speaking. I ask you for help and you answer in parables. Now perhaps I
am saying too much, and perhaps I am not, but that Mr. Harley was right
in what he believed, the circumstances of his present disappearance go
to prove. He learned too much about something called Fire-Tongue."

Wessex spoke the word challengingly, staring straight into the eyes of
Nicol Brinn, but the latter gave no sign, and Wessex, concealing his
disappointment, continued: "You know more about Fire-Tongue than you
ever told Mr. Paul Harley. All you know I have got to know. Mr. Harley
has been kidnapped, perhaps done to death."

"Why do you say so?" asked Nicol Brinn, rapidly.

"Because I know it is so. It does not matter how I know."

"You are certain that his absence is not voluntary?"

"We have definite evidence to that effect."

"I don't expect you to be frank with me, Detective Inspector, but I'll
be as frank with you as I can be. I haven't the slightest idea in the
world where Mr. Harley is. But I have information which, if I knew where
he was, would quite possibly enable me to rescue him."

"Provided he is alive!" added Wessex, angrily.

"What leads you to suppose that he is not?"

"If he is alive, he is a prisoner."

"Good God!" said Nicol Brinn in a low voice. "It has come." He took a
step toward the detective. "Mr. Wessex," he continued, "I don't tell you
to do whatever your duty indicates; I know you will do it. But in the
interests of everybody concerned I have a request to make. Have me
watched if you like--I suppose that's automatic. But whatever happens,
and wherever your suspicions point, give me twenty-four hours. As I
think you can see, I am a man who thinks slowly, but moves with a rush.
You can believe me or not, but I am even more anxious than you are to
see this thing through. You think I know what lies back of it all, and I
don't say that you are not right. But one thing you don't know, and