h when----" There was no point in finishing the sentence.

"S'not often he make a mistake. Our opponents haf been ver' quiet, you
know, ver' quiet. Perhaps now they draw the kipper across the path."

"He's got bats," said Hipps. "Been standing in the sun."

"I'd ignore the whole thing," said Laurence. "Ten to one it's a trick.
A stunt put up by our adversaries."

"In our private code, Laurence? No, no, no. I tink it wass well we
take some precautions with this gentlemen who wass so like our guest.
You will telephone to Mr. Phillips please that I would like some of
those roads that lead into London made--difficult." Then as Laurence
seemed disposed to argue: "You haf your orders," he thundered.

As Laurence was leaving the room, Auriole came in and stood hesitating
on the threshold.

"Ah! Miss Craven," said Van Diest stooping to kiss her fingers. "For
you a little work. You will talk to our guest, yes? So stubborn he
wass. You ver' clever woman, ver' gentle. You put your arms around
him--so! You whisper, you beseech, you ver' sympathetic. P'r'aps you
make 'im cry. Then he tell you what he refuse to tell us.
S'understood?"

"Yes, I understand," said Auriole in a small voice.

"Goot! Then we go downstairs now. Come, Hipps." At the door he
paused. "S'ver' important you succeed because we haf tried all the
rest." He spoke the final words slowly and with great meaning, then
turned and went out.

Auriole caught Ezra Hipps by the sleeve as he passed her.

"What does he means--'all the rest?'" she questioned.

The American scarcely paused in his stride. "Think it over," he said,
and closed the door behind him.

With a heart that thumped hammer blows against her side, Auriole turned
toward Richard's bedroom and paused with her hand on the latch. She
felt as a traitor might feel who was seeking audience of his sovereign.
For a traitor she was. False to her original employers, to her ideals
and to a man who, even though he might have stirred in her the hope of
a wedding had never willingly wrought her a single wrong. A dozen
times in the last three days her hand had gone out to the telephone and
the will had been there to confess to Cranbourne that her allegiance to
his side existed no longer, but even in this her honesty had broken
down. She saw herself, as she hesitated on the threshold, a wretched
mercenary creature--the sport of greed and jealousy--self-centred and
governed by thought of