hildren of Herr Essendorf,
President of the German Republic. Half an hour before his death, my
uncle was decoding this dispatch in his library. I saw him doing it, and
I saw the dispatch itself. He told me that so far as he had gone
already, it was full of information of the gravest import; that a
definite scheme was already being formulated against this country by an
absolutely unique and dangerous combination of enemies."

"Those enemies being?"

Nigel shook his head.

"That I can only surmise," he replied. "My uncle had only commenced to
decode the dispatch when I last saw him."

"Then I gather, Lord Dorminster," the Minister said, "that you connect
your uncle's death directly with the supposed theft of this document?"

"Absolutely!"

"And the conclusion you arrive at, then?"

"Is an absolutely logical one," Nigel declared firmly. "I assert that
other countries are not falling into line with our lamentable abnegation
of all secret service defence, and that, in plain words, my uncle was
murdered by an agent of one of these countries, in order that the
dispatch which had come into his hands should not be decoded and passed
on to your Government."

The Right Honourable gentleman smiled slightly. He was a man of some
natural politeness, but he found it hard to altogether conceal his
incredulity.

"Well, Lord Dorminster," he promised, "I will consider all that you have
said. Is there anything more I can do for you?"

"Yes!" Nigel replied boldly. "Induce the Cabinet to reestablish our
Intelligence Department and secret service, even on a lesser scale, and
don't rest until you have discovered exactly what it is they are
plotting against us somewhere on the continent."

"To carry out your suggestions, Lord Dorminster," the Minister pointed
out, "would be to be guilty of an infringement of the spirit of the
League of Nations, the existence of which body is, we believe, a
practical assurance of our safety."

Nigel rose to his feet.

"As man to man, sir," he said, "I see you don't believe a word of what I
have been telling you."

"As man to man," the other admitted pleasantly, as he touched the bell,
"I think you have been deceived."

* * * * *

Nigel, even as a prophet of woe, was a very human person and withal a
philosopher. He strolled along Piccadilly and turned into Bond Street,
thoroughly enjoying one of the first spring days of the season. Flower
sellers were busy at e