o affair, similar to those issued by
American banking houses to enclose letters of credit. One side of it was
filled with notes. Mr. Fentolin withdrew them and glanced them through.

"Dear me!" he murmured. "No wonder our friend engages special trains! He
travels like a prince, indeed. Two thousand pounds, or near it, in this
little compartment. And here, I see, a letter, a sealed letter with no
address."

He held it out in front of him. It was a long commercial envelope of
ordinary type, and although the flap was secured with a blob of sealing
wax, there was no particular impression upon it.

"We can match this envelope, I think," Mr. Fentolin said softly. "The
seal we can copy. I think that, for the sake of others, we must discover
the cause for this hurried journey on the part of Mr. John P. Dunster."

With his long, delicate forefinger Mr. Fentolin slit the envelope and
withdrew the single sheet of paper which it contained. There were
a dozen lines of written matter, and what appeared to be a dozen
signatures appended. Mr. Fentolin read it, at first with ordinary
interest. Then a change came. The look of a man drawn out of himself,
drawn out of all knowledge of his surroundings or his present state,
stole into his face. Literally he became transfixed. The delicate
fingers of his, left hand gripped the sides of his little carriage.
His eyes shone as though those few written lines upon which they were
riveted were indeed some message from an unknown, an unimagined world.
Yet no word ever passed his lips. There came a time when the tension
seemed a little relaxed. With fingers which still trembled, he folded up
the sheet and replaced it in the envelope. He guarded it with both
his hands and sat quite still. Neither Gerald nor his servant moved.
Somehow, the sense of Mr. Fentolin's suppressed excitement seemed to
have become communicated to them. It was a little tableau, broken at
last by Mr. Fentolin himself.

"I should like," he said, turning to Gerald, "to be alone. It may
interest you to know that this document which Mr. Dunster has brought
across the seas, and which I hold in my hands, is the most amazing
message of modern times."

Gerald rose to his feet.

"What are you going to do about it?" he asked abruptly. "Do you want any
one in from the telegraph room?"

Mr. Fentolin shook his head slowly.

"At present," he announced, "I am going to reflect. Meekins, my chair
to the north window--so. I am going t