“Have you brought any of the powder with you?” asked McMurtrie.

It struck me instantly that if I said yes, I should be putting myself absolutely in their power.

“I hadn’t time to get any,” I answered regretfully.  “I had buried it outside the hut, and they came on me so suddenly there was no chance of digging it up.  Now I have once done it, however, I can make some more very quickly.”

It was the flattest lie I have ever told; but I managed to get it off with surprising ease.  It is astonishing what rapid strides one can make in the art of perjury with a very little practice.

Savaroff gave a grunt of disappointment, and McMurtrie turned to von Bruenig, who was frowning thoughtfully, and made some almost inaudible remark in German.  The latter answered at some length, but he kept his voice so low that, with my rather sketchy knowledge of that unpleasant language, it was impossible for me to overhear what he was saying.  Besides, he evidently didn’t intend me to, and I had no wish to spoil the good impression I had apparently made by any appearance of eavesdropping.

It seemed to me that my course lay pretty straight in front of me.  Latimer had all the information now he was likely to get, and I knew from Joyce’s wire that he intended to act immediately.  In addition to this, the running down of the cutter would be known to Scotland Yard as soon as ever the men who had been sent to arrest me could get to a telephone, and the river-police and coast-guards everywhere would be warned to keep a sharp look-out for von Bruenig’s launch.  In an hour or two at the most something was bound to happen, and the way in which I could make myself most useful seemed to be in delaying the break-up and escape of the party as long as possible.  If I had to be arrested, I was determined that the others should be roped in as well.

I had just arrived at this point in my meditations when McMurtrie and von Bruenig came to an end of their muttered conversation.

The former turned back to me.  “You probably understand, Mr. Lyndon, that this unfortunate affair with the police alters our plans entirely.  At present I am quite unable to see how they have found you out, unless you have betrayed yourself by some piece of unintentional carelessness.  Anyhow, the fact remains that they know where you are, and that very probably they will be able to trace this launch.”

Savaroff nodded.  “As likely as not we shall have a shot across our bows when we get to Sheerness,” he growled.

McMurtrie, as usual, took no notice of his interruption.  “There is only one thing to do,” he said.  “Mr. von Bruenig, who, as I have already told you, is interested in our syndicate, has offered to put his country house in Germany at our service.  We must cross over to Holland before the police have time to interfere.”

“Do you mean now, at once?” I asked, with a sudden inward feeling of dismay.