Sir George raised his eyeglass.  “You ask this after she did her best to send you back to penal servitude?”

I nodded.  “I am not sure,” I said, “that I didn’t thoroughly deserve it.”

For a moment Sir George stared at me in a puzzled sort of fashion.  “Very well,” he said; “I think it might be arranged.  As you say, she was of considerable assistance to us, even if it was unintentionally.  That is a point in her favour—­a distinct point.”

“How about our friend Mr. Marwood?” put in Lammersfield pleasantly.  “Between perjury and selling Government secrets I suppose we have enough evidence to justify his arrest?”

“I think so,” said Sir George, nodding his head solemnly.  “Anyhow I have given instructions for it.  In a case like this it is best to be on the safe side.”

My heart sank at his words.  Charming as it was to think of George in the affectionate clutch of a policeman, I could almost have wept at the idea of being robbed of my own little interview with him, to which I had been looking forward for so long.  It was Lammersfield who broke in on my disappointment.  “I should imagine,” he said considerately, “that you two, as well as Latimer, must be half starving.  I suppose you have had nothing to eat since breakfast.”

Tommy rose to his feet with an alacrity that answered the question so far as he was concerned, and I acknowledged that a brief interval for refreshment would be by no means unwelcome.

“Well, I’m afraid I can’t spare Latimer just yet,” he said, “but you two go off and have a good lunch.  Come back here again as soon as you’ve done.  I will ring up the War Office and the Admiralty while you are away, and we will arrange for a couple of their men to meet us here, and then you can explain about your new explosive.  I fancy you will find them quite an appreciative audience.”

He pressed a bell by his side, and getting up from the table, accompanied us to the door, where I stopped for a moment to try and express my thanks both to him and Sir George.

“My dear Mr. Lyndon,” he interrupted courteously, “you have been in prison for three years for a crime that you didn’t commit, and in return for that you have done England a service that it is almost impossible to overrate.  Under the circumstances even a Cabinet Minister may be excused a little common civility.”

As he spoke there came a knock at the door, and in answer to his summons the impassive butler person appeared on the threshold.

“Show these gentlemen out, Simpson,” he said, “and let me know directly they return.”  Then, shaking my hand in a friendly fashion, he added with a quizzical smile, “If you should happen to come across any mutual acquaintance of ours, perhaps you will be kind enough to convey my unofficial congratulations.  I hope before long to have the privilege of offering them personally.”

I promised to deliver his message, and, following our guide downstairs, we passed out into the street.