which has been reposed
in me, and to give you the benefit of my own surmises. In the first
place, Mr. Lloyd is mistaken in supposing that the French police have
been in the least puzzled by this double disappearance. On the contrary,
they are perfectly well aware of all the facts of the case, and could
have produced Miss Poynton or her brother at any moment. They are
working not for us, but against us!"

"Indeed!" Mr. Lloyd said in a tone of disbelief. "And their object?"

"Here is as much of the truth as I dare tell you," Duncombe said. "Guy
Poynton whilst on the Continent became the chance possessor of an
important State secret. He was followed to France by spies from that
country--we will call it Germany--and the young lady who awaits you so
impatiently is, if not one of them, at least one of their friends. At
the Cafe Montmartre he gave his secret away to people who are in some
measure allied with the secret service police of France. He was
kidnapped by them, and induced to remain hidden by a trick. Meanwhile
diplomacy makes use of his information, and foreign spies look for him
in vain. His sister, when she came to search for him, was simply an
inconvenience which these people had not contemplated. She was worked
upon by fears concerning her brother's safety to go into hiding. Both
have been well cared for, and the report of Guy's death is, I firmly
believe, nothing but an attempt to lull the anxieties of the spies who
are searching for him. This young woman here may be able to tell you
into whose hands he has fallen, but you may take my word for it that
she is in greater need of information than you are, and that she is an
exceedingly dangerous person for you to discuss the Poyntons with. There
are the crude facts. I have only known them a few hours myself, and
there is a good deal which I cannot explain. But this I honestly and
firmly believe. Neither you nor I nor Mr. Lloyd here can do the
slightest good by interfering in this matter. For myself, I am leaving
for England to-night."

Duncombe, like most honest men, expected to be believed. If he had
entertained the slightest doubt about it he would not have dared to open
his mouth. The silence that followed he could understand. No doubt they
were as amazed as he had been. But it was a different thing when he saw
the expression on Andrew's face as he turned to his companion.

"What do you think of this, Lloyd?" he asked.

"I am afraid, sir," the man answered