Dunster," he continued, turning his chair, "our
conversation has reached a point at which I think we may safely leave
it for a time. We will discuss these matters again. Your pretext of a
political mission is, of course, an absurd one, but fortunately you have
fallen into good hands. Take good care of Mr. Dunster, Meekins. I can
see that he is a very important personage. We must be careful not to
lose sight of him."

Mr. Fentolin steered his chair to the door, opened it, and passed
out. On the landing he blew his whistle; the lift almost immediately
ascended. A moment or two later he glided into the dining-room. The
three men were still seated around the table. A decanter of wine, almost
empty, was before Doctor Sarson, whose pallid cheeks, however, were as
yet unflushed.

"At last, my dear guest," Mr. Fentolin exclaimed, turning to Hamel, "I
am able to return to you. If you will drink no more wine, let us have
our coffee in the library, you and I. I want to talk to you about the
Tower."

CHAPTER XV

Mr. Fentolin led the way to a delightful little corner of his library,
where before the open grate, recently piled with hissing logs, an easy
chair had been drawn. He wheeled himself up to the other side of the
hearthrug and leaned back with a little air of exhaustion. The butler,
who seemed to have appeared unsummoned from somewhere among the shadows,
served coffee and poured some old brandy into large and wonderfully thin
glasses.

"Why my house should be turned into an asylum to gratify the hospitable
instincts of my young nephew, I cannot imagine," Mr. Fentolin grumbled.
"A most extraordinary person, our visitor, I can assure you. Quite
violent, too, he was at first."

"Have you had any outside advice about his condition?" Hamel inquired.

Mr. Fentolin glanced across those few feet of space and looked at Hamel
with swift suspicion.

"Why should I?" he asked. "Doctor Sarson is fully qualified, and the
case seems to present no unusual characteristics."

Hamel sipped his brandy thoughtfully.

"I don't know why I suggested it," he admitted. "I only thought that an
outside doctor might help you to get rid of the fellow."

Mr. Fentolin shrugged his shoulders.

"After all," he said, "the matter is of no real consequence. Doctor
Sarson assures me that we shall be able to send him on his way very
shortly. In the meantime, Mr. Hamel, what about the Tower?"

"What about it?" Hamel asked, selecting a cigar f