e gone for a walk," she answered. "Gerald has
disappeared somewhere. Has anything--is everything all right?"

"Naturally," Mr. Fentolin replied easily. "All that the inspector
desired was to see Mr. Dunster. He has seen him. The poor fellow was
unfortunately unconscious, but our friend will at least be able to
report that he was in good hands and well cared for."

"Unconscious," Mrs. Fentolin repeated. "I thought that he was better."

"One is always subject to those slight relapses in an affair of
concussion," Mr. Fentolin explained.

Mrs. Fentolin laid down her work and leaned a little towards her
brother-in-law. Her hand rested upon his. Her voice had fallen to a
whisper.

"Miles," she said, "forgive me, but are you sure that you are not
getting a little out of your depth? Remember that there are some risks
which are not worth while."

"Quite true," he answered. "And there are some risks, my dear Florence,
which are worth every drop of blood in a man's body, and every breath
of life. The peace of Europe turns upon that man up-stairs. It is worth
taking a little risk for, worth a little danger. I have made my plans,
and I mean to carry them through. Tell me, when I was up-stairs, this
fellow Hamel--was he talking confidentially to Gerald?"

"Not particularly."

"I am not sure that I trust him," Mr. Fentolin continued. "He had a
telegram yesterday from a man in the Foreign Office, a telegram which I
did not see. He took the trouble to walk three miles to send the reply
to it from another office."

"But after all," Mrs. Fentolin protested, "you know who he is. You know
that he is Peter Hamel's son. He had a definite purpose in coming here."

Mr. Fentolin nodded.

"Quite true," he admitted. "But for that, Mr. Hamel would have found
a little trouble before now. As it is, he must be watched. If any one
comes between me and the things for which I am scheming to-day, they
will risk death."

Mrs. Fentolin sighed. She was watching the figures of Esther and Hamel
far away in the distance, picking their way across the last strip of
marshland which lay between them and the sea.

"Miles," she said earnestly, "you take advice from no one. You will go
your own way, I know. And yet, it seems to me that life holds so many
compensations for you without your taking these terrible risks. I am not
thinking of any one else. I am not pleading to you for the sake of any
one else. I am thinking only of yourself. I have had a so