“I’ll write to you, anyway, Neil,” he said, “as soon as I’ve tackled Latimer; and I’ll probably come down with Joyce on Tuesday.  If you want me any time before, send me a wire.”

I nodded.  “You’ll be more useful to me in London, Tommy,” I said.  “All the threads of the business are up here.  McMurtrie—­Latimer—­ George”—­I paused—­“I’d give something to know what those three do between them,” I added regretfully.

Tommy gripped my hand.  “It’s all right, old son,” he said.  “I’m not much of a believer in inspirations and all that sort of rot, but somehow or other I’m dead certain we’re going to win out.  I’ve had a feeling like that ever since the trial—­and so has Joyce.”

“Thanks, Tommy,” I said briefly.  “You’d give a jellyfish a backbone—­you two.”

And with a last squeeze of the hand I left him standing there, and set off across the station for Edith Terrace.

It was close on midnight when I got back, and every one in the house seemed to have gone to bed.  The light had been put out in the hall, but the door of my sitting-room was partly open, and a small jet of gas was flickering away over the fireplace.  I turned this up and, looking round, discovered a large box with Holland’s label on it, a note, and a half-sheet of paper—­all decorating the table in the centre of the room.

I examined the half-sheet of paper first.  It contained several dirty thumb-marks and the following message, roughly scrawled in pencil: 

“sir the lady with the hat cum for you about for aclock i told her as you was out and she rote this leter gerty.”

Hastily picking up the envelope, I slit open the flap, and pulled out the “leter” from inside.  It covered two sides, and was written in Sonia’s curious, sloping, foreign-looking hand.

“I have to go away with my father until the end of next week.  By that time, if you have succeeded with your invention, there will be nothing to stop our plans.  I would have explained everything to you today if you had been here.  As it is, on no account give your secret to any one until I have seen you.  I shall come down to Tilbury either on Friday or Saturday, and within a few hours we can be utterly beyond the reach of any further danger or difficulties.  Until then, my lover—­SONIA.”

I read it through twice, and then slowly folding it up, thrust it back into the envelope.

“It seems to me,” I said, “that I’m going to have quite an interesting house-party.”

CHAPTER XVII

THE WORKSHOP ON THE MARSHES

I gave Gertie her hat next morning when she brought me up my breakfast.  It was a gorgeous thing—­rather the shape of a dustman’s helmet, with a large scarlet bird nestling on one side of it, sheltered by some heavy undergrowth.  Gertie’s face, as I pulled it out of the box, was a study in about eight different emotions.