stened. Word had
come that he was to be killed. I needn't tell the next part, because
you know it. I thought I'd have time to rush up and get the papers from
their hiding-place, but I was caught. So I screamed out that he was
escaping, and I said I wanted to go back to Marguerite. I shouted the
name three times very loud. I knew the others would think I meant
Mrs. Vandemeyer, but I hoped it might make Mr. Beresford think of the
picture. He'd unhooked one the first day--that's what made me hesitate
to trust him."

She paused.

"Then the papers," said Sir James slowly, "are still at the back of the
picture in that room."

"Yes." The girl had sunk back on the sofa exhausted with the strain of
the long story.

Sir James rose to his feet. He looked at his watch.

"Come," he said, "we must go at once."

"To-night?" queried Tuppence, surprised.

"To-morrow may be too late," said Sir James gravely. "Besides, by
going to-night we have the chance of capturing that great man and
super-criminal--Mr. Brown!"

There was dead silence, and Sir James continued:

"You have been followed here--not a doubt of it. When we leave the house
we shall be followed again, but not molested, FOR IT IS MR. BROWN'S PLAN
THAT WE ARE TO LEAD HIM. But the Soho house is under police supervision
night and day. There are several men watching it. When we enter that
house, Mr. Brown will not draw back--he will risk all, on the chance
of obtaining the spark to fire his mine. And he fancies the risk not
great--since he will enter in the guise of a friend!"

Tuppence flushed, then opened her mouth impulsively.

"But there's something you don't know--that we haven't told you." Her
eyes dwelt on Jane in perplexity.

"What is that?" asked the other sharply. "No hesitations, Miss Tuppence.
We need to be sure of our going."

But Tuppence, for once, seemed tongue-tied.

"It's so difficult--you see, if I'm wrong--oh, it would be dreadful."
She made a grimace at the unconscious Jane. "Never forgive me," she
observed cryptically.

"You want me to help you out, eh?"

"Yes, please. YOU know who Mr. Brown is, don't you?"

"Yes," said Sir James gravely. "At last I do."

"At last?" queried Tuppence doubtfully. "Oh, but I thought----" She
paused.

"You thought correctly, Miss Tuppence. I have been morally certain of
his identity for some time--ever since the night of Mrs. Vandemeyer's
mysterious death."

"Ah!" breathed Tuppence.

"For there we are