--only the result. The hard labour of many
scores of men would never be handled outside the walls of Scotland Yard.
They had nothing to do with the guilt or innocence of the Princess
Petrovska. When the case was handed over to the Treasury it would be
entirely straightened out, and it would be for them to present the
simple issue to the judge and jury at the Old Bailey.

Foyle flung away the remnant of his cigar, and drew out his watch. It
was nine o'clock. Sir Hilary Thornton, who had heard of the woman's
confession by telephone, might be expected at any moment.

"That ought to do, Green," said the superintendent, as he strung tape
round the discarded bundles. "We'll have the lady brought up at the
afternoon sitting of the court. That'll give us time to talk it over
with the people from the Treasury. Yes, what is it?"

A man had tapped and opened the door. Before he could reply, a slim
figure pushed by him. Green rose to his feet and hastily pushed his pipe
into his pocket. Foyle raised his eyebrows and stood up more slowly.
Lady Eileen Meredith confronted them with wild eyes and pallid face. She
swayed a trifle, and the chief inspector with a quick movement placed
his arm round her waist and helped her to a chair.

"You are not well, Lady Eileen," said Foyle, slipping to her side.
"Shall I do something?--send for a doctor?"

She waved a slim hand in an impatient negative. "I--I shall be all right
in a minute," she gasped. Her throat worked. "I wanted to see you, Mr.
Foyle. I wanted to tell you--to tell you----"

Her voice trailed away in piteous indecision. Heldon Foyle whispered a
few words to Green, who nodded and passed out. The superintendent took a
small decanter from a cupboard, poured something into a glass, and added
some water.

"Drink this," he said sympathetically. "You will feel better afterwards.
That's right. Now, you wanted to tell me something."

A little colour returned to the girl's pale cheeks. Her hands opened and
shut convulsively.

"The paper--this morning!" she exclaimed incoherently. "It said--it
said----"

Foyle rubbed his chin. "It said that we had detained a man in Sussex,"
he said encouragingly.

She pulled herself together a little, but her whole form was trembling.
"It was Mr. Grell?" she asked eagerly.

He inclined his head in assent. "Yes, it was Mr. Grell."

Her face dropped to her hands and her frame shook. But when she raised
her head she was dry-eyed. The emotion tha