unfriendly to the friendly power, would find in this document a very
valuable red-herring to draw across the path of its own
perplexities."

"Good heavens!" cried Mr. Llewellyn John, starting upright in his
chair. "How on earth did you know?"

"It seems fairly obvious," said Malcolm Sage, as he returned to his
chair and resumed his stroking of the sphinx's back. "Who else knew
of the existence of the document?" he enquired.

"No one outside the Admiralty and the War----" Sir Lyster stopped
suddenly.

From the corridor, apparently just outside the library door, came
the sound of a suppressed scream, followed by a bump against the
woodwork.

Rising and moving swiftly across the room, Sir Lyster threw open the
door, revealing a gap of darkness into which a moment later slid two
figures, a pretty, fair-haired girl and a wizened little Japanese
with large round spectacles and an automatic smile.

"I'm so sorry, Sir Lysier," faltered the girl, as she stepped
timidly into the room, "but I was frightened. Someone had switched
off the lights and I ran into----" She turned to the Japanese, who
stood deprecating and nervous on the threshold.

"I lose my passage," he said, baring his teeth still further; "I go
to find cigarette-case of my master. He leave it in beelyard-room. I
go----"

With a motion of his hand, Sir Lyster dismissed the man, who slipped
away as if relieved at getting off so lightly.

"You are up late, Miss Blair," he said coolly, turning to the girl.

"I'm so sorry," she said; "but Lady Grayne gave me some letters, and
there was so much copying for you that----" She paused, then added
nervously, "I didn't know it was so late."

"You had better go to bed, now," said Sir Lyster.

With a charming smile she passed out, Sir Lyster closing the door
behind her. As he turned into the room his eye caught sight of the
chair in which Malcolm Sage had been sitting.

"Where is Mr. Sage?" He looked from Mr. Llewellyn John to Lord
Beamdale.

As he spoke Malcolm Sage appeared from the embrasure of the window
through which he had entered, and where he had taken cover as Sir
Lyster rose to open the door.

"You see, Sage is not supposed to be here," explained Mr. Llewellyn
John.

"Your secretary has an expensive taste in perfume," remarked Malcolm
Sage casually, as he resumed his seat. "It often characterises an
intensely emotional nature," he added musingly.

"Emotional nature!" repeated Sir Lyster. "As a ma