in the cellar--there
was a singular contrivance attached. To one, a plain, everyday
instrument for dispatching telegrams by the Morse system; to the
other, a curious little keyboard which was an exact counterpart
of the keyboard to the typewriter upstairs; and besides this there
lay some remnants of food from the store cupboard of the house,
and a sheaf of paper leaves covered with typewritten characters.

"Gentlemen, the absolute end of the riddle at last," said Cleek
as he took up one of those leaves. "Look at them--Government
secrets every one. And I, like an ass, forgot to remember that Nicolo
Ferrand was one of the cleverest mechanicians and one of the
craftiest 'wire workers' that the underworld boasts. Look, Sir
Charles; look, Mr. Narkom. Every touch of a letter on the keyboard
of the typewriter upstairs registered its exact duplicate on this
infernal contrivance down here, and fast as it was recorded, that
vixen wired it on to Boris Borovonski. Can't you understand now
why she left her post and flew to him? The shock which killed him
and travelled with lessened force down the wire to the telegraph
operator was felt here, and the instrument she used was, in all
probability, disabled. She knew then, of course, that something
had happened to her brother, and in a panic flew to find out what.

"But even the shrewdest slip up sometimes and overlook things. Her
foolish slip lay in this: that she forgot to take with her these
original drafts of the intelligence she had wired to the dead man."

"Ah, weel," said Mr. Alexander MacInery, who, like a true Scotsman,
never liked to be found at the small end of the horn upon any
occasion, "after all, 'tis no more than I expected. I said it was
accident that was at the bottom of it, and accident it's turned out
to be."

"No doubt," agreed Cleek, with one of his peculiar smiles. "But,
personally, I always like to think that there's a Power above, and
when men--_and_ nations--have played the game squarely----Shan't we
be going upstairs, Sir Charles? Mr. Narkom and I have a long ride
back to town, and the afternoon is on the decline."

It was still farther on that road, however, before he was able to
actually tear himself away from the dockyard and be off home; for
there were those little legal necessities which are the penalty
of dealing with Government affairs to be attended to; there was
the boring business of meeting high officials, and listening to
compliments and cong