BOTH PROFESSOR BLINKWELL and the Thurlows chose to return to England by the Calais-Dover route, which was the more convenient for night travelling, owing to the ferry service which had recently been instituted. They could go to bed on the train in France, and wake up to a sight of the English fields.

They all three had diverse reasons for some satisfaction of mind, and the sea was calm. They slept well.

The ambassador, on 'phoning M. Samuel to inform him, with some bluntness of speech, that he had decided not to remain in France, had found this intimation received without protest, and even some apologetic regret for the experience that he had had. He mentioned that the Prefecture had ordered the arrest of Mr. Kindell, as though that were conclusive evidence that he had committed the crime. Mr. Thurlow said that it would take a lot to convince him that Kindell would be guilty of such an act, and M. Samuel replied that new evidence had come into the hands of the police, which the young man would find it very hard to explain. "Our methods here," he had said, as though mentioning an evident superiority over those of the Anglo-Saxon races, "usually drag out the truth, when we've got such a start as we have here."

Mr. Thurlow, though less than convinced, saw additional cause for satisfaction that he would not be further involved. Kindell was a relative. He could scarcely have refused assistance, had it been asked. But it had been offered and refused; and he had been inclined to make a grievance of that! Perhaps Irene was right. Perhaps Kindell's motive for silence really had been consideration for them. The idea almost reconciled him to the presence of that infernal valise which Irene had insisted on bringing. After all, he was doing something for the fellow, and at some risk to himself, though he did not think it was much. If Kindell meant that he should sign off on those terms, well, it might have been worse than that!

Irene was more worried for Kindell's welfare, and anxious as to what ordeal he might have to face from the French police, but she could not believe that he was in serious danger of conviction for a murder of which she was certain that he could not have been guilty.

Trouble he was certainly in, but she had some confidence that he would be equal to finding his way out. And whatever anxiety she might feel, she was less distressed than she would have been had he not given her (as she supposed) an opportunity to atone for the way in which she had left him that afternoon. There should be no doubt of the valise being safely delivered! She would take it herself.

Professor Blinkwell had, perhaps, the most absolute peace of mind. for which he may have had the best cause.

He felt a degree of confidence almost equal to that of the ambassador and his daughter that the valise would pass the Customs without inspection, though he had a better knowledge of the risk it ran, and the trouble which would follow if it should engage the attention either of the Customs or the police. But, in any case he need have no personal fear. It was Gustav who would be questioned - Kindell, or perhaps the Thurlows, who would be under suspicion. What on earth would it be to do with him?

And there was some satisfaction in having left the scene, and the country, of the murder of one who had certainly been a particular enemy of his, without having been drawn, even remotely, into the orbit of the crime. But then, who knew of that enmity? He was not even sure that M. Samuel had known that it was he whom he pursued. If he had, it had become improbable that he had shared his knowledge with others, or surely the police would have paid more subsequent attention to him! So it was reasonable to think. But the murder had made it additionally desirable that he should get safely away, and particularly that he should have no further connection with that of which the Thurlows had so obligingly taken charge.

His anticipation proved to be no more sanguine than was justified by the event. He had the satisfaction of observing the Thurlows leave Victoria station in their own car, piled with luggage, among which he had no doubt that the valise was unobtrusively included. Evidently no untoward incident had delayed them at the Customs. Actually, the ambassadorial privilege had prevailed, and their baggage, as they would have called it, had not been inspected at all.

Professor Blinkwell called a taxi, and was soon enjoying the pleasant comfort of a late breakfast at his own table.

It was a meal at which Mrs. Blinkwell, whose occupation, if any, was that of a professional invalid, did not appear, but Myra was there. And though the Professor was blessed (as he would have agreed) with an incurious wife, his niece was somewhat more in his confidence, and more alert to circumstances, in her lazy way.

Breakfast came first with her. But, her plate being well supplied, curiosity had its turn.

"What's this," she asked, "about someone being found dead in Mr. Thurlow's room?"

"What, indeed?" her uncle echoed. "Am I to conclude that Kindell confided to you upon the boat?"

She looked at him with an irritation which had some cause, but a long experience of his conversational methods controlled her reply, "He didn't tell me anything. All I know is from last night's papers."

"Which I have not seen."

"But I expect you know more of what happened than got into them."

"On the contrary, I may know less. . . . What did they say?"

"They said a detective officer had been found killed in Mr. Thurlow's suite in the hotel. . . . They made quite a splash."

"I expect they would. . . . Did they mention Mr. Kindell at all?"

"No. What was it to do with him? I was going to tell you that he gave me the slip at Dover. He stayed in the Customs House, and I didn't see him get on to the train. I was afraid something might have gone wrong about the parcel he was bringing for me, but, if there was, I heard nothing more about it, so he didn't give us away."

"He told me that he had very little difficulty in dealing with that matter."

"You've seen him since you got in?"

"No. I saw him in Paris before I left yesterday."

Myra stared at that. "But you can't have done. He came over with me."

"He went back that night."

"Why on earth did he do that?"

"He went at the request of the police. . . . They thought the murder should be explained."

"But what was it to do with him?"

"That's what they want to find out."

"But - but that's absurd. He must have left before it happened."

"They seem to think differently. He was arrested yesterday afternoon."

Myra, whose feelings, unless for her own comfort or safety, were not easily roused, looked both troubled and bewildered.

"I could tell them that's nonsense."

"Which I must insist that you do not. We must not be mixed up in it at all."

Myra saw the prudence of this. Her protest was weak. She began, "But if - - " and her voice fell.

"You need not trouble about him. He told me that he was in no way concerned, and, if that be so, his danger cannot be great. . . . But there is something that you can do."

Hearing this, Myra did not look pleased. Her thoughts went to the parcel she had entrusted to him. Probably it might now be in the hands of the police. Did her uncle want her to claim it from them?

He saw the rebellion in her eyes, and read her thoughts as though they had been spoken aloud.

"Myra," he said, in a voice of patient remonstrance, "try not to be a bigger fool than you can't help. Do I ever ask you to do dangerous things? The parcel you gave to Kindell was opened by the Customs, and made no trouble at all. But the fact that it was opened gave me valuable information about Kindell, concerning whom I had been seriously misled."

"You mean he was letting us down?"

"On the contrary, I mean he wasn't. . . . But I'm not asking you to think. There's something you can do without that being necessary."

Myra still looked mutinous. She cared little for her uncle's sarcasms, to which she was well used, but she cared much for her own lazy comfort, and for the maintenance of a satisfactory distance from the police, which she knew was not the invariable experience of all members of the gang which he so adroitly controlled.

Unfortunately, the assurance of that lazy comfort came from the one who, from time to time, required her to undertake the dubious enterprises from which her caution if not her conscience sullenly rebelled.

It was true that obedience, intelligently though reluctantly given, had so far resulted in the immunity which he had assured her that she would have. But would it always be so? She saw danger now to be nearer than she had ever known it before.

Yet the professor............