“One of the biggest.  Awful enthusiast.”

“Do you think he’d tell me a bit about those Australian stamps which Marbury showed to Criedir, the dealer?”

“Certain, he would—­delighted.  Here”—­and Breton scribbled a few words on a card—­“there’s his address and a word from me.  I’ll tell you when you can always find him in, five nights out of seven—­at nine o’clock, after he’s dined.  I’d go with you tonight, but I must go to Aylmore’s.  The two girls are in terrible trouble.”  “Give them a message from me,” said Spargo as they went out together.  “Tell them to keep up their hearts and their courage.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

MR. ELPHICK’S CHAMBERS

Spargo went round again to the Temple that night at nine o’clock, asking himself over and over again two questions—­the first, how much does Elphick know? the second, how much shall I tell him?

The old house in the Temple to which he repaired and in which many a generation of old fogies had lived since the days of Queen Anne, was full of stairs and passages, and as Spargo had forgotten to get the exact number of the set of chambers he wanted, he was obliged to wander about in what was a deserted building.  So wandering, he suddenly heard steps, firm, decisive steps coming up a staircase which he himself had just climbed.  He looked over the banisters down into the hollow beneath.  And there, marching up resolutely, was the figure of a tall, veiled woman, and Spargo suddenly realized, with a sharp quickening of his pulses, that for the second time that day he was beneath one roof with Miss Baylis.

Spargo’s mind acted quickly.  Knowing what he now knew, from his extraordinary dealings with Mother Gutch, he had no doubt whatever that Miss Baylis had come to see Mr. Elphick—­come, of course, to tell Mr. Elphick that he, Spargo, had visited her that morning, and that he was on the track of the Maitland secret history.  He had never thought of it before, for he had been busily engaged since the departure of Mother Gutch; but, naturally, Miss Baylis and Mr. Elphick would keep in communication with each other.  At any rate, here she was, and her destination was, surely, Elphick’s chambers.  And the question for him, Spargo, was—­what to do?

What Spargo did was to remain in absolute silence, motionless, tense, where he was on the stair, and to trust to the chance that the woman did not look up.  But Miss Baylis neither looked up nor down:  she reached a landing, turned along a corridor with decision, and marched forward.  A moment later Spargo heard a sharp double knock on a door:  a moment after that he heard a door heavily shut; he knew then that Miss Baylis had sought and gained admittance—­somewhere.