was at one
time in the Foreign Office himself. He seemed to have a most brilliant
career before him when suddenly there was a terrible scandal. A
political secret--I don't know what it was--had leaked out. There were
rumours that it had been acquired for a large sum of money by a foreign
Power. Mr. Fentolin retired to Norfolk, pending an investigation. It was
just as that time that he met with his terrible accident, and the matter
was dropped."

"Go on, please," she murmured.

"My friend went on to say that during the last few years Mr. Fentolin
has once again become an object of some suspicion to the head of our
Secret Service Department. For a long time they have known that he was
employing agents abroad, and that he was showing the liveliest interest
in underground politics. They believed that it was a mere hobby, born
of his useless condition, a taste ministered to, without doubt, by
the occupation of his earlier life. Once or twice lately they have had
reason to change their minds. You know, I dare say, in what a terribly
disturbed state European affairs are just now. Well, my friend had an
idea that Mr. Fentolin was showing an extraordinary amount of interest
in a certain conference which we understand is to take place at The
Hague. He begged me to come down, and to watch your uncle while I was
down here, and report to him anything that seemed to me noteworthy.
Since then I have had a message from him concerning the American whom
you entertained--Mr. John P. Dunster. It appears that he was the bearer
of very important dispatches for the Continent."

"But he has gone," she said quickly. "Nothing happened to him, after
all. He went away without a word of complaint. We all saw him."

"That is quite true," Hamel admitted. "Mr. Dunster has certainly gone.
It is rather a coincidence, however, that he should have taken his
departure just as the enquiries concerning his whereabouts had reached
such a stage that it had become quite impossible to keep him concealed
any longer."

She turned a little in her place and looked at him steadfastly.

"Mr. Hamel," she said, "tell me--what of your mission? You have had an
opportunity of studying my uncle. You have even lived under his roof.
Tell me what you think."

His face was troubled.

"Miss Fentolin," he said, "I will tell you frankly that up to now I have
not succeeded in solving the problem of your uncle's character. To me
personally he has been most courteous. He li