The German snatched it from her. He unlocked the door. Conrad stumbled
out, swearing.

"Where is he? Have you got him?"

"We have seen no one," said the German sharply. His face paled. "Who do
you mean?"

Conrad gave vent to another oath.

"He's got away."

"Impossible. He would have passed us."

At that moment, with an ecstatic smile Tommy pulled the string. A crash
of crockery came from the attic above. In a trice the men were pushing
each other up the rickety ladder and had disappeared into the darkness
above.

Quick as a flash Tommy leapt from his hiding-place and dashed down the
stairs, pulling the girl with him. There was no one in the hall. He
fumbled over the bolts and chain. At last they yielded, the door swung
open. He turned. Annette had disappeared.

Tommy stood spell-bound. Had she run upstairs again? What madness
possessed her! He fumed with impatience, but he stood his ground. He
would not go without her.

And suddenly there was an outcry overhead, an exclamation from the
German, and then Annette's voice, clear and high:

"Ma foi, he has escaped! And quickly! Who would have thought it?"

Tommy still stood rooted to the ground. Was that a command to him to go?
He fancied it was.

And then, louder still, the words floated down to him:

"This is a terrible house. I want to go back to Marguerite. To
Marguerite. TO MARGUERITE!"

Tommy had run back to the stairs. She wanted him to go and leave her.
But why? At all costs he must try and get her away with him. Then his
heart sank. Conrad was leaping down the stairs, uttering a savage cry at
the sight of him. After him came the others.

Tommy stopped Conrad's rush with a straight blow with his fist. It
caught the other on the point of the jaw and he fell like a log. The
second man tripped over his body and fell. From higher up the staircase
there was a flash, and a bullet grazed Tommy's ear. He realized that
it would be good for his health to get out of this house as soon as
possible. As regards Annette he could do nothing. He had got even with
Conrad, which was one satisfaction. The blow had been a good one.

He leapt for the door, slamming it behind him. The square was deserted.
In front of the house was a baker's van. Evidently he was to have been
taken out of London in that, and his body found many miles from the
house in Soho. The driver jumped to the pavement and tried to bar
Tommy's way. Again Tommy's fist shot out, and the driver spr