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"And he always locks the door?" asked the interested Spike.

"Both doors; there's one at each end. But for the love of Mike——"

"Have no fear, dear heart," said Spike. "Can you tell me anything more about him?"

Julius, who had already told too much, licked his dry lips and looked round as though seeking a method of escape.

"That's about all," he said. "And you'll swear to me, Holland, that you'll not give me away?"

"Where does he dine?"

"In the library as a rule. The dining-room is very seldom used. And now I must go, Holland." And before Spike could stop him he had flown.

On the way back to Guildford, inwardly quaking, Julius recalled the incidents of the talk, beads of perspiration standing on his forehead as he realised the appalling character of his indiscretion. He had not told about the handkerchief, he was happy to remember, and really that was the best story of all.

He found his employer in a fairly pleasant mood. He asked no inconvenient questions as to the reason for his secretary's long absence, and, much to Savini's relief, he himself suggested that the story was certain to get into the newspapers.