glass. His steadfast gaze seemed to reduce
Annette into a state of nervous panic.

"Annette," he said, "they have placed me upon the list."

"It is true, monsieur," she answered. "Why do you come here?"

"I wanted to know first for certain that they had ventured so far," Mr.
Sabin said. "I believe that I am only the second person in this country
who has been so much honoured."

The woman drew nearer to him.

"Monsieur," she said, "your only danger is to venture into such parts
as these. London is so safe, and the law is merciless. They only watch.
They will attempt nothing. Do not leave England. There is here no
machinery of criminals. Besides, the life of monsieur is insured."

"Insured?" Mr. Sabin remarked quietly. "That is good news. And who pays
the premium?"

"A great lady, monsieur! I know no more. Monsieur must go indeed. He has
found his way into the only place in London where he is not safe."

Mr. Sabin rose.

"You are expecting, perhaps," he said, "one of my friends from the--"

She interrupted him.

"It is true," she declared. "He may be here at any instant. The time is
already up. Oh, monsieur, indeed, indeed it would not do for him to find
you."

Mr. Sabin moved towards the door.

"You are perhaps right," he said regretfully, "although I should much
like to hear about this little matter of life insurance while I am
here."

"Indeed, monsieur," Annette declared, "I know nothing. There is nothing
which I can tell monsieur."

Mr. Sabin suddenly leaned forward. His gaze was compelling. His tone was
low but terrible.

"Annette," he said, "obey me. Send Emil here."

The woman trembled, but she did not move. Mr. Sabin lifted his
forefinger and pointed slowly to the door. The woman's lips parted, but
she seemed to have lost the power of speech.

"Send Emil here!" Mr. Sabin repeated slowly.

Annette turned and left the room, groping her way to the door as though
her eyesight had become uncertain. Mr. Sabin lit a cigarette and looked
for a moment carefully into the small liqueur glass out of which he had
drunk.

"That was unwise," he said softly to himself. "Just such a blunder might
have cost me everything."

He held it up to the light and satisfied himself that no dregs remained.
Then he took from his pocket a tiny little revolver, and placing it
on the table before him, covered it with his handkerchief. Almost
immediately a door at the farther end of the room opened and closed.
A man i