least
penetrated some of the mystery which surrounded Dr. McMurtrie and his
friends, and more and more it was becoming obvious to me that the
two problems were closely connected. Anyhow I turned into bed in
an optimistic mood, and with the stimulating feeling that in all
probability I had a pleasantly eventful day in front of me.

It certainly opened in the most promising fashion. I woke up at eight,
and was making a light breakfast off a tin of sardines and some
incredibly stale bread, when through the little window that looked out
towards the Tilbury road I suddenly spotted my youthful friend from
the post-office approaching across the marsh. I opened the door, and
he came up with a respectful grin of recognition.

"Letter for you, sir," he observed, "come this morning, sir."

He handed me an envelope addressed in Joyce's writing, and stood by
while I read it, thoughtfully scratching his head with the peak of
his cap. It was only a short note, but beautifully characteristic of
Joyce.

"MY OWN NEIL,--

"I'm coming down to see you tomorrow afternoon. I've got several
things to tell you, but the chief reason is because I want to kiss
you and be kissed by you. Everything else seems rather unimportant
compared with that.

"JOYCE."

"Any answer, sir?" inquired the boy, when he saw I had finished
reading.

"Yes, Charles," I said; "there is an answer, but I'm afraid I can't
send it by post. Wait a minute, though," I added, as he began to put
on his cap, "I want you to send off a wire for me if you will. It will
take a minute or two to write."

I went into the hut, and hastily scribbled a telegram to Latimer,
telling him that I had written to McMurtrie, but that otherwise there
was nothing to report. I copied this out carefully in the simple
cypher we had agreed on, and handed it to the boy, together with five
shillings.

"You can keep the change," I said, "and buy fireworks with it. I've
been too busy to make any yet."

He gurgled out some expressions of gratitude and took his departure,
while I renewed my attack upon the sardines and bread.

Fortified by this simple cheer, I devoted the remainder of the morning
to tidying up my shed. I felt that I was living in such uncertain
times that it would be just as well to remove all possible traces of
the work I had been engaged on, and by midday the place looked almost
as tidy as when I had first entered it.

I then treated myself to a cigar and began to keep a l