but, as had been foreseen by
the astute Sheard, no confirmation was forthcoming. There had been an
informal council held at the urgent request of Rohscheimer, whereat it
had been decided that for the latter to appear, now, in the light of a
victim of Severac Bablon, would be for him to throw away such advantages
as might accrue--to throw a potential peerage after his lost L100,000!

Baron Hague had been coerced into silence, and had left for Berlin
without seeing a single newspaper man. Mr. Elschild had persisted that
his donation was entirely a voluntary one. Jesson had been most urgent
for placing the true facts before Scotland Yard, but had finally fallen
in with Rohscheimer's wishes.

"You see, Jesson," the latter had argued, "I'll never get my money back.
It's gone as completely as if I'd burnt it! All I've got to hope for is
a peerage; and I'd lose that if I started crying."

"I agree," Antony Elschild had contributed, "Rohscheimer had suddenly
become a popular hero! So that a title is all the return he is ever
likely to get for his money. It is popularly expected that Hohsmann and
yourself will also subscribe. You must remember that owing to the
attitude of a section of the Press it is not generally believed that
Severac Bablon has anything to do with this burst of generosity!"

Jesson had muttered something about "the _Gleaner_," and a decision had
been arrived at to organise a private campaign against Severac Bablon
whilst professing, publicly, that he was in no way concerned in the
swelling of the _Gleaner_ fund.

Now, Jesson and Hohsmann had both sent huge cheques to the paper, and
interviews with the philanthropic and patriotic capitalists appeared
upon the front page. Sheard had not done either interview.

Encouraged by their amazing donations, the general public was responding
in an unheard-of manner to the _Gleaner's_ appeal. The Marquess of
Evershed had contributed a long personal letter, which was reproduced in
the centre of the first page of every issue. The Imperialistic spirit
ran rampant throughout Great Britain.

Meanwhile, Mr. Oppner's detectives were everywhere. Inspector Sheffield,
C.I.D., was not idle. And Sheard found his position at times a dangerous
one.

He stood up, walked to the grate, and knocked out his pipe. Having
refilled and lighted it, he tiptoed upstairs, and from a convenient
window surveyed the empty road. So far as he could judge, its emptiness
was real enough. Yet on