in his efforts to shield
Miss Abbeway."

"That may be so," Fenn admitted, "but it doesn't alter the fact that he
refuses to return to her the packet which she entrusted to his care."

"And he is still obdurate?"

"Up to now, absolutely so. Perhaps," Fenn added, with a slightly
malicious smile, "you would like to try what you can do with him
yourself?"

The Bishop hesitated.

"Julian Orden," he said, "is a young man of peculiarly stubborn type,
but if I thought that my exhortations would be of any benefit, I would
not shrink from trying them, whatever it might cost me."

"Better have a try, then," Fenn suggested. "If we do not succeed within
the next twenty-four hours, I shall give you an order to see him. I
don't mind confessing," he went on confidentially, "that the need for
the production of that document is urgent, apart from the risk we run
of having our plans forestalled if it should fall into the hands of the
Government."

"I presume that Miss Abbeway has already done her best?"

"She has worn herself out with persuasions."

"Has he himself been told the truth?"

Fenn shook his head.

"From your own knowledge of the young man, do you think that it would
be of any use? Even Miss Abbeway is forced to admit that any one less
likely to sympathise with our aims it would be impossible to find. At
the same time, if we do arrange an interview for you, use any arguments
you can think of. To tell you the truth, our whole calculations have
been upset by not discovering the packet upon his person. He was on his
way to Downing Street when our agents intervened, and we never doubted
that he would have it with him. When will it be convenient for you to
pay your visit?"

"At any time you send for me," the Bishop replied. "Meanwhile, Mr. Fenn,
before I leave I want to remind you once more of the original purpose of
my call upon you."

Fenn frowned a little peevishly as he rose to usher his visitor out.

"Miss Abbeway has already extorted a foolish promise from us," he said.
"The young man's safety for the present is not in question."

The Bishop, more from custom than from any appetite, walked across the
Park to the Athenaeum. Mr. Hannaway Wells accosted him in the hall.

"This is a world of rumours," he remarked with a smile. "I have just
heard that Julian Orden, of all men in the world, has been shot as a
German spy."

The Bishop smiled with dignity.

"You may take it from me," he said gravely, "that the