me. When I strike, I shall strike, and no one will discover what
my will may be. You are out of date, dear Baron, with your third-rate
army of stupid spies. You succeed in one thing only--you succeed in
making me angry."

"It is at least an achievement, that," Peter declared.

"Perhaps," Monsieur Guillot admitted, fiercely. "Yet mark now the
result. I defy you, you and all of them. Look at your clock. It is five
minutes to seven. It goes well, that clock, eh?"

"It is the correct time," Peter said.

"Then by midnight," Guillot continued, shaking his fist in the other's
face, "I shall have done that thing which brought me to England and I
shall have disappeared. I shall have done it in spite of your watchers,
in spite of your spies, in spite, even, of you, Monsieur le Baron de
Grost. There is my challenge. Voila. Take it up if you will. At midnight
you shall hear me laugh. I have the honor to wish you good-night!"

Peter opened the door with his own hands.

"This is excellent," he declared. "You are now, indeed, the Monsieur
Guillot of old. Almost you persuade me to take up your challenge."

Guillot laughed derisively.

"As you please!" he exclaimed. "By midnight tonight!"

The challenge of Monsieur Guillot was issued precisely at four minutes
before seven. On his departure, Peter spent the next half-hour studying
certain notes and sending various telephone messages. Afterwards, he
changed his clothes at the usual time and sat down to a tete-a-tete
dinner with his wife. Three times during the course of the meal he
was summoned to the telephone, and from each call he returned more
perplexed. Finally, when the servants had left the room, he took his
chair around to his wife's side.

"Violet," he said, "you were asking me just now about the telephone.
You were quite right. These were not ordinary messages which I have
been receiving. I am engaged in a little matter which, I must confess,
perplexes me. I want your advice, perhaps your help."

"I am quite ready," she answered, smiling. "It is a long time since you
gave me anything to do."

"You have heard of Guillot?"

She reflected for a moment.

"You mean the wonderful Frenchman," she asked, "the head of the criminal
department of the Double-Four?"

"The man who was at its head when it existed. The criminal department,
as you know, has all been done away with. The Double-Four has now no
more concern with those who break the law, save in those few instances