iry. Sometimes
I think that he suspects me. I met him at a critical moment on the
battlefield near Niemen. I always believed that he heard me speaking
German--it was just after I had come back across the lines. The other
day--well, I told you about that. Isabel Worth saved me or I don't know
where I should have been. I think I shall kill that man!"

"What did you say his name was?" Sir Alfred asked, with sudden
eagerness.

"Thomson."

There was a moment's silence. Sir Alfred's expression was curiously
tense. He leaned across the table towards his nephew.

"Thomson?" he repeated. "My God! I knew there was something I meant to
tell you. Don't you know, Ronnie?--but of course you don't. You're sure
it's Thomson--Surgeon-Major Thomson?"

"That's the man."

"He is the man with the new post," Sir Alfred declared hoarsely. "He is
the head of the whole Military Intelligence Department! They've set him
up at the War Office. They've practically given him unlimited powers."

"Why, I thought he was inspector of Field Hospitals!" Granet gasped.

"A blind!" his uncle groaned. "He is nothing of the sort. He's
Kitchener's own man, and this," he added, looking at the letter, "must
be his work!"

CHAPTER XXVIII

Surgeon-Major Thomson looked up almost eagerly as Ambrose entered his
room the next morning. The young man's manner was dejected and there
were black lines under his eyes. He answered his chief's unspoken
question by a little shake of the head.

"No luck, sir," he announced. "I spent the whole of last night at it,
too--never went to bed at all. I've tried it with thirty-one codes. Then
I've taken the first line or two and tried every possible change."

"I couldn't make anything of it myself," Thomson confessed, looking at
the sheet of paper which even at that moment was spread out before him.
"All the same, Ambrose, I don't believe in it."

"Neither do I, sir." The other assented eagerly. "I am going to have
another try this afternoon. Perhaps there'll be some more letters in
then and we can tell whether there's any similarity."

Thomson frowned.

"I've a sort of feeling, Ambrose," he said, "that we sha'n't have many
of these letters."

"Why not, sir?"

"I heard by telephone, just before you came," Thomson announced, "that
a certain very distinguished person was on his way to see me. Cabinet
Ministers don't come here for nothing, and this one happens to be a
friend of Sir Alfred's."

Ambrose sighed.