glitter in his hand. This was the end, then, of all doubt!
He remained silent.

"Suspicions which are, in a sense, absurd," Mr. Fentolin continued,
"have grown until I find them obtrusive and obnoxious. What have I to do
with Mr. John P. Dunster? I sent him out from my house. If he is lost or
ill, the affair is not mine. Yet one by one those around me are falling
away. I told you an hour ago that Gerald was at Brancaster. It is a lie.
He has left this house, but no soul in it knows his destination."

Hamel started.

"You mean that he has run away?"

Mr. Fentolin nodded.

"All that I can surmise is that he has followed Dunster," he proceeded.
"He has an idea that in some way I robbed or injured the man. He has
broken the bond of relationship between us. He has broken his solemn
vow. He has run a grave and terrible risk."

"What of Miss Esther?" Hamel asked quickly.

"I have sent her away," Mr. Fentolin replied, "until we come to a clear
understanding, you and I. You seem to be a harmless enough person, Mr.
Hamel but appearances are sometimes deceptive. It has been suggested to
me that you are a spy."

"By whom?" Hamel demanded.

"By those in whom I trust," Mr. Fentolin told him sternly. "You are
a friend of Reginald Kinsley. You met him in Norwich the other
day--secretly. Kinsley's chief is a member of the Government. He is one
of those who will find eternal obloquy if The Hague Conference comes to
a successful termination. For some strange reason, I am supposed to have
robbed or harmed the one man in the world whose message might bring to
nought that Conference. Are you here to watch me, Mr. Hamel? Are you one
of those who believe that I am either in the pay of a foreign country,
or that my harmless efforts to interest myself in great things are
efforts inimical to this country; that I am, in short, a traitor?"

"You must admit that many of your actions are incomprehensible," Hamel
replied slowly. "There are things here which I do not understand--which
certainly require explanation."

"Still, why do you make them your business?" Mr. Fentolin persisted. "If
indeed the course which I steer is a harmless one," he continued, with
a strange new glitter in his eyes, "then you are an impertinent stranger
to whom my doors cannot any longer be open. If you have taken advantage
of my hospitality to spy upon me and my actions, if indeed you have a
mission here, then you can carry it with you down into hell!"

"I und