put a limit to the quest. You won't find it east of the
Bosporus--not yet. It is still in Europe. It may be in
Constantinople, or in Thrace. It may be farther west. But it is
moving eastwards. If you are in time you may cut into its march to
Constantinople. That much I can tell you. The secret is known in
Germany, too, to those whom it concerns. It is in Europe that the
seeker must search--at present.'

'Tell me more,' I said. 'You can give me no details and no
instructions. Obviously you can give me no help if I come to grief.'

He nodded. 'You would be beyond the pale.'

'You give me a free hand.'

'Absolutely. You can have what money you like, and you can get what
help you like. You can follow any plan you fancy, and go anywhere you
think fruitful. We can give no directions.'

'One last question. You say it is important. Tell me just how
important.'

'It is life and death,' he said solemnly. 'I can put it no higher and
no lower. Once we know what is the menace we can meet it. As long as
we are in the dark it works unchecked and we may be too late. The war
must be won or lost in Europe. Yes; but if the East blazes up, our
effort will be distracted from Europe and the great _coup_ may fail.
The stakes are no less than victory and defeat, Hannay.'

I got out of my chair and walked to the window. It was a difficult
moment in my life. I was happy in my soldiering; above all, happy in
the company of my brother officers. I was asked to go off into the
enemy's lands on a quest for which I believed I was manifestly
unfitted--a business of lonely days and nights, of nerve-racking
strain, of deadly peril shrouding me like a garment. Looking out on
the bleak weather I shivered. It was too grim a business, too inhuman
for flesh and blood. But Sir Walter had called it a matter of life and
death, and I had told him that I was out to serve my country. He could
not give me orders, but was I not under orders--higher orders than my
Brigadier's? I thought myself incompetent, but cleverer men than me
thought me competent, or at least competent enough for a sporting
chance. I knew in my soul that if I declined I should never be quite
at peace in the world again. And yet Sir Walter had called the scheme
madness, and said that he himself would never have accepted.

How does one make a great decision? I swear that when I turned round
to speak I meant to refuse. But my answer was Yes, and I had cross