s second cup, when the telephone buzzer behind him jarred.

"A call from Liverpool, sir," said the man in the private exchange. "Mr.
Blake wants you. Shall I put him through?"

A few minutes elapsed before Foyle heard the voice of the man who had
been outwitted by the Princess Petrovska. "Is that Mr. Foyle? This is
Blake speaking. We've got on the track of the lady again. She'd been
staying at a boarding-house pretending she was a member of a theatrical
company. A local man spotted her and came back to fetch me to make
certain of her identity. But she must have got wind of it somehow, for
she's hired a motor and slipped off. We're after her now. She's only got
half an hour's start, and we've wired to have the main roads watched. I
expect we'll have her in an hour or two."

The superintendent coughed. "Get along then, Blake. And don't smoke when
you're on the job this time. Good-bye."

He replaced the receiver and returned to his neglected cup of tea.
Things were evidently stirring. Was it altogether chance, he wondered,
that Petrovska had chosen the day to make a move? Strange coincidences
did happen at times, yet there was a possibility that her movements were
correlated to those of Grell. Had the two managed to communicate? Well,
at any rate he could rely on Blake and his assistants to find out
whether she had received letters or messages. The matter was out of his
hands, and it was not his habit to worry about affairs which he could
not influence.

CHAPTER XLIV

That Heldon Foyle had come so closely on the heels of Grell's message
was something of a shock to Eileen. She had not supposed that the
detectives would be so quickly again on the trail. Her heart beat a
little quicker, but her face gave no sign as she drew off her gloves
while the footman told her of the superintendent's call at six.

When she was alone she sat with her long, slender hands gripping the
arms of her chair, her grey eyes reflecting the light of the fire as she
stared abstractedly into its depths. That she had done her utmost to
help Grell escape she did not regret; she rather triumphed in the fact.
Foyle could know nothing of that--at the worst he could only suspect.
Her precautions had been too complete. She was confident that she and
Grell were the only two people who knew of the day's happenings. In any
case, she argued to herself, it was better to see Foyle. She had come to
respect his acumen, and fear he might draw an infere