one night recently and insisted on searching her room and her trunks.
Mr. Ings protested; said they'd made a mistake, pledged his word on her
honour and integrity, but all with no avail. They searched and
found--what _do_ you think?"

"I'll buy it," I said; "Uncle Jasper's coming to lunch with me. What did
they find?"

"It's no catch," protested Bolsover, "but the solid truth. They found in
one of her trunks a German service-rifle and a quantity of ammunition."

"Never!" I exclaimed.

"Only once," retorted Bolsover. "She's now in a Concentration Camp near
Hendon."

I thought no more about the matter until midway through lunch. We were
waiting for the _souffle_ when--

"Have you heard that story about a German?" Uncle Jasper and I began
simultaneously.

"After you, Uncle," I said dutifully. "What were you going to say?"

"I was about to ask you if you had heard the story of the Polworths'
governess," he said.

"No," I answered. "Tell me. You refer to the Polworths of Croydon?"

"Exactly. Well, they--or rather some friends of theirs named Culverton,
living at Purley--had a German governess who had been in the family for
some years. A night or two ago the police----"

But I needn't repeat it. In all essentials it was Bolsover's story over
again, the only differences being that they found three bombs and that
the governess was incarcerated at Horsham.

In the afternoon I accompanied Uncle Jasper to the railway station. On
my way home I met the Vicar, and we fell to discussing the war.
Eventually the conversation got to espionage.

"That reminds me," said the Vicar, "of a very strange case in the
household of one of my parishioners--or it would be more correct to say
that what I am going to tell you occurred in the house of a friend of
his at Canterbury. However, the _bona fides_ of the facts is absolutely
unimpeachable. It appears that----"

And here followed another version of the governess episode, identical in
all respects with those of Bolsover and Uncle Jasper, save only that the
police found a loaded revolver and a plan of Chatham Dockyard, and that
the woman had been deported.

That same evening I dined at old Colonel Jevers', and when the ladies
had withdrawn to the drawing-room our host began--

"Talking about the war reminds me of a most extraordinary spy story I
heard to-day about a German governess."

All the men exchanged glances and smiled. The Colonel continued--"I can
say at once that