Kinsley, for a moment, was singularly and eloquently profane.

“That’s why Mr. Fentolin let him go, then.  If Saxthorpe had only held his tongue, or if those infernal police hadn’t got chattering with the magistrates, we might have made a coup.  As it is, the game’s up.  Mr. Dunster left for Yarmouth, you say, yesterday morning?”

“I saw him go myself.  He looked very shaky and ill, but he was able to smoke a big cigar and walk down-stairs leaning on the doctor’s arm.”

“I don’t doubt,” Kinsley remarked, “but that you saw what you say you saw.  At the same time, you may be surprised to hear that Mr. Dunster has disappeared again.”

“Disappeared again?” Hamel muttered.

“It looks very much,” Kinsley continued, “as though your friend Miles Fentolin has been playing with him like a cat with a mouse.  He has been obliged to turn him out of one hiding-place, and he has simply transferred him to another.”

Hamel looked doubtful.

“Mr. Dunster left quite alone in the car,” he said.  “He was on his guard too, for Mr. Fentolin and he had had words.  I really can’t see how it was possible for him to have got into any more trouble.”

“Where is he, then?” Kinsley demanded.  “Come, I will let you a little further into our confidence.  We have reason to believe that he carries with him a written message which is practically the only chance we have of avoiding disaster during the next few days.  That written message is addressed to the delegates at The Hague, who are now sitting.  Nothing had been heard of Dunster or the document he carries.  No word has come from him of any sort since he left St. David’s Hall.”

“Have you tried to trace him from there?” Hamel asked.

“Trace him?” Kinsley repeated.  “By heavens, you don’t seem to understand, Dick, the immense, the extraordinary importance of this man to us!  The cleverest detective in England spent yesterday under your nose at St. David’s Hall.  There are a dozen others working upon the job as hard as they can.  All the reports confirm what you say—­that Dunster left St. David’s Hall at half-past nine yesterday morning, and he certainly arrived in Yarmouth at a little before twelve.  From there he seems, however, to have completely disappeared.  The car went back to St. David’s Hall empty; the man only stayed long enough in Yarmouth, in fact, to have his dinner.  We cannot find a single smack owner who was approached in any way for the hire of a boat.  Yarmouth has been ransacked in vain.  He certainly has not arrived at The Hague or we should have heard news at once.  As a last resource, I ran down here to see you on the chance of your having picked up any information.”

Hamel shook his head.

“You seem to know a good deal more than I do, already,” he said.

“What do you think of Mr. Fentolin?  You have stayed in his house.  You have had an opportunity of studying him.”