On the floor were two small bags half full of clothes which he swiftly searched, without revealing anything of moment.  A third, smaller bag lay open on the table.  It contained a number of small rolls of very thin paper, and on the table there were spread out two others.  As he looked, he knew they were admirably drawn sketches of the forts and the lines of connecting works which defended the city.  Making sure no more papers were to be found, he thrust all of them within his waistcoat, buttoned it securely, felt for his revolver, and listened.

In the closed back room there was much mirth and the clink of glasses.  He drew near the door and felt certain that Grey was relating with comic additions his interview of the morning.  Without hesitation he threw open the door as three men sprang to their feet and Grey covered him with a revolver.  He said quietly, “Sorry to disturb you, gentlemen.  Put down that toy, Grey.”

“No, by Heaven!—­not till—­”

“My dear Grey, between me and that pistol stands a woman—­as she stood for your safety this morning.  Men who talk, don’t shoot.  You are all three in deadly peril—­you had better hear me.  I could have covered you all with my revolver.  Put down that thing!”

“Put it down,” said the older of the three.  Grey laid the weapon on the table.

“This is not war,” said Penhallow, “and you are three to one.  Sit down.”  He set the example.  “It is clear that you are all Confederate officers and spies.  Let us talk a little.  I came on Mr. Grey to-day by accident.  It was my duty to have him arrested; but he is my wife’s brother.  If a pistol is heard or I am not out of this, safe, in a few minutes, the police now on guard will enter—­and you are doomed men.  I am presumably on Government business.  Now, gentlemen, will you leave at once or in an hour or less?”

“I for one accept,” said the man who had been silent.

“And I,” said the elder of the party.

“On your honour?”

“Yes.”

Grey laughed lightly, “Oh, of course.  Our work is done.  Speed the parting guest!”

“I wish,” said the Colonel, rising, “to leave no misapprehension on your minds—­or on that of Mr. Grey.  Those admirable sketches left carelessly on the table are in my pocket.  Were they not, you would all three be lost men.  Did you think, Grey, that to save your life or my own I would permit you to escape with your work?  Had I not these papers, your chance of death would not weigh with me a moment.”

Grey started up.  “Don’t be foolish, Grey,” said the older man.  “We have played and lost.  There has been much carelessness—­and we have suffered for it.  I accept defeat, Colonel.”

Penhallow looked at the watch in his hand.  “You have ten minutes grace—­no, rather less.  May I ask of you one thing?  You are every hour in danger, but I too am aware that if this interview be talked about in Richmond or you are caught, my name may be so used as to make trouble for me, for how could I explain that to save my wife’s brother I connived at the escape of Confederate officers acting as spies?  I ask no pledge, gentlemen.  I merely leave my honour as a soldier in your hands.  Good-night, and don’t delay.”