is position behind a neighboring shrub. He did not wish to be
seen by Beamish, should the latter come early to the rendezvous.

He had, however, to wait for more than half an hour before a dark form
became vaguely visible in the faint light which shone through the study
blinds. It approached the window, and a tap sounded on the glass. In a
moment the blind went up, the sash opened, the figure passed through,
the sash closed softly, and the blind was once more drawn down. In three
seconds Willis was back at the sill.

The slot under the blind still remained, the other window having been
opened. Willis first examined the fastening of the latter in the hope of
opening the sash enough to hear what was said, but to his disappointment
he found it tightly closed. He had therefore to be content with
observation through the slot.

He watched the two men sit down at either side of the fire, and light
cigars. Then Beamish handed the other a paper, presumably Madeleine's
letter. Archer having read it twice, a discussion began. At first
Archer seemed to be making some statement, to judge by the other's rapt
attention and the gestures of excitement or concern which he made. But
no word of the conversation reached the inspector's ears.

He watched for nearly two hours, getting gradually more and more cramped
from his stooping position, and chilled by the sharp autumn air. During
all that time the men talked earnestly, then, shortly after eleven,
they got up and approached the window. Willis retreated quickly behind
his bush.

The window opened softly and Beamish stepped out to the grass, the light
shining on his strong, rather lowering face. Archer leaned out of the
window after him, and Willis heard him say in low tones, "Then you'll
speak up at eleven?" to which the other nodded and silently withdrew.
The window closed, the blind was lowered, and all remained silent.

Willis waited for some minutes to let the captain get clear away, then
leaving his hiding-place and again keeping on the grass, he passed down
the drive and out on to the road. He was profoundly disappointed. He
had failed in his purpose, and the only ray of light in the immediate
horizon was that last remark of Archer's. If it meant, as he presumed it
did, that the men were to communicate by the secret telephone at eleven
in the morning, all might not yet be lost. He might learn then what he
had missed tonight.

It seemed hardly worth while returning to Hull. H