“No, no, Mr. Lyndon,” he interrupted; “there is no necessity for that—­no necessity at all.  Strictly speaking, of course, you are still a prisoner, but for the present it will perhaps be best to avoid any formal proceedings.  I understand that both Lord Lammersfield and Mr. Casement consider it advisable to keep the whole matter as quiet as possible, at all events until the return of the Prime Minister.  After that we must decide what steps it will be best to take.”

“I am very much obliged to you,” I said.  “There is one question I should like to ask if I may.”

He took off his spectacles and polished them with his pocket-handkerchief.  “Well?” he observed encouragingly.

“I should like to know whether Savaroff’s daughter is in custody—­the girl who gave the police their information about me.”

“Ah!” he said, with some satisfaction, “that is a point on which you all appear to have been misled.  I have just enlightened Mr. Casement in the matter.  The information on which the police acted was not supplied by a girl.”  He paused.  “It was given them by your cousin and late partner, Mr. George Marwood.”

“What!” I almost shouted; and I heard Tommy indulge in a half-smothered exclamation which was not at all suited to our distinguished company.

Sir George, who was evidently pleased with our surprise, nodded his head.

“Mr. Marwood rang up Scotland Yard at half-past ten last night.  He told them he had received an anonymous letter giving two addresses, at one of which you would probably be found.  He also gave a full description of the alterations in your appearance.”

I turned to Latimer.  “I suppose it was Sonia,” I said.  “I never dreamed of her going to him, though.”

“It was very natural,” he replied in that unconcerned drawl of his.  “She knew that your cousin would do everything possible to get you under lock and key again, and at the same time she imagined she would avoid the risk of being arrested herself.”

“Quite so, quite so,” said Sir George, nodding his head sagely.  “From all I can gather she seems to be a most dangerous young woman.  I shall make a particular point of seeing that she is arrested.”

His words came home to me with a sudden swift stab of pity and remorse.  It was horrible to think of Sonia in jail—­Sonia eating out her wild passionate heart in the hideous slavery I knew so well.  The thought of all that she had risked and suffered for my sake crowded back into my mind with overwhelming force.  I took a step forward.

“Sir George,” I said, “a moment ago you were good enough to say that the Government would try and make me some return for the injustice I have suffered.”

He looked at me in obvious surprise.  “Certainly,” he said—­“certainly.  I am convinced that they will take the most generous view of the circumstances.”

“There is only one thing I ask,” I said.  “Except for this girl, Sonia Savaroff, the Germans would now be in possession of my invention.  If the Government feel that they owe me anything, they can cancel the debt altogether by allowing her to go free.”