and yet get away in Tudor’s brougham, unless it was by a wile worthy of the diplomacy of a Queen Elizabeth.  And he wished ardently to understand a hundred and one other things concerning Camilla, Tudor, and Ravengar, and the permutations and combinations of these three, which offered apparently insoluble problems to his brain.  Nevertheless, there was one assurance which seemed to him to emerge clearly from the note, and to atone for its vagueness—­a vagueness, however, perfectly excusable, he reflected, having regard to the conditions in which it was written—­namely, that Camilla intended to arrive, as usual, in Department 42 that morning.  What significance could be attached to the phrase, ’When next I see you, if there is opportunity,’ unless it signified that she anticipated seeing him next in the shop and in the course of business?  Moreover, he felt that it would be just like Camilla to start by behaving to him as though nothing had occurred. (But he would soon alter that, he said masterfully.) He was, on the whole, happy as he lay in bed.  She knew that he loved her.  They had been intimate.  In three hours at most he would see her again.  And his expectations ran high.  Indeed, she had already begun to exist in his mind as his life’s companion.

Simon coughed politely but firmly.

‘What’s that you say?’ Hugo demanded; and Simon repeated his item of news.

‘Ha!’ said Hugo; ‘doubtless some enthusiast for sunrises.’

’He has been twice perceived in the little gallery by the men cleaning the roof garden,’ Simon added.

‘And who is it?’

‘His identity has not been established,’ said Simon.

‘Can’t you moderate your language a little, Shawn?’ Hugo asked, staring always absently up into the dome.

’I beg pardon, sir.  I have spent part of the night with Albert, and his loose speech always drives me to the other extreme,’ Simon observed, repentant.

‘Has Albert seen the burglar?’

‘No, sir, if it is a burglar.’

‘Well,’ said Hugo, ’he’s quite safe where he is.  He can’t get down except by that door, can he?’ pointing to a masked door, which was painted to represent a complete set in sixty volumes of the ’Acts of the Saints.’

‘No, sir.’

‘And he could only have got up by that door?’ Hugo pursued.

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Which means that you were away from your post last night, my son.’

‘I was, sir,’ Shawn admitted frankly.  ’When you and Albert and the lady ran off so quickly, I followed, as far as I judged expedient—­beg pardon, sir.  The man must have slipped in during my absence.  I remember I noticed the masked door was ajar on my return.  I shut and locked it.’

‘That explains everything,’ said Hugo.  ’You see how your sins find you out.’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘I say, Shawn,’ Hugo cried, as he went to his bath, ’talking of that chap up above, play me the Captives’ chorus from “Fidelio."’