ld nodded.

"I will go to him at once," he said.

CHAPTER V

Accustomed though he was to the sight which he was about to face,
Gerald shivered slightly as he opened the door of Mr. Fentolin's room.
A strange sort of fear seemed to have crept into his bearing and
expression, a fear of which there had been no traces whatever during
those terrible hours through which he had passed--not even during that
last reckless journey across the marshes. He walked with hesitating
footsteps across the spacious and lofty room. He had the air of some
frightened creature approaching his master. Yet all that was visible of
the despot who ruled his whole household in deadly fear was the kindly
and beautiful face of an elderly man, whose stunted limbs and body were
mercifully concealed. He sat in a little carriage, with a rug drawn
closely across his chest and up to his armpits. His beautifully shaped
hands were exposed, and his face; nothing else. His hair was a silvery
white; his complexion parchment-like, pallid, entirely colourless. His
eyes were a soft shade of blue. His features were so finely cut and
chiselled that they resembled some exquisite piece of statuary. He
smiled as his nephew came slowly towards him. One might almost have
fancied that the young man's abject state was a source of pleasure to
him.

"So you are back again, my dear Gerald. A pleasant surprise, indeed, but
what is the meaning of it? And what of my little commission, eh?"

The young man's face was dark and sullen. He spoke quickly but without
any sign of eagerness or interest in the information he vouchsafed.

"The storm has stopped all the trains," he said. "The boat did not cross
last night, and in any case I couldn't have reached Harwich. As for your
commission, I travelled down from London alone with the man you told me
to spy upon. I could have stolen anything he had if I had been used to
the work. As it was--I brought the man himself."

Mr. Fentolin's delicate fingers played with the handle of his chair.
The smile had passed from his lips. He looked at his nephew in gentle
bewilderment.

"My dear boy," he protested, "come, come, be careful what you are
saying. You have brought the man himself! So far as my information
goes, Mr. John P. Dunster is charged with a very important diplomatic
commission. He is on his way to Cologne, and from what I know about the
man, I think that it would require more than your persuasions to induce
him to break