“Richard drew Foster.”

I laid the letter down without remark.  Ray had filled his pipe whilst I had been reading, and was sitting now on the arm of his easy chair, facing me.

“I understood the letter and its meaning,” he continued.  “I knew that the whole neighbourhood was under the observation of the French Secret Service, and the man who signed himself Richard Drew Foster saw in you an excellent tool ready to his hand.  It is very certain also that the matter would probably have presented itself to you in a wholly different light.  Accordingly, I placed the letter in my own pocket, and I released my hold of Clery.

“‘You can go back to your master,’ I said, ’and tell him that you have seen me, and that I have his letter.  It will be sufficient.  And you can tell him that I shall be in London to-morrow night, and if any such person as Mr. Drew Foster is staying at the Savoy Hotel, he will know the inside of a military prison before midnight.’

“The man slunk away.  I suppose he realized that with me in the way their game was up.  But afterwards he must have hesitated, and then made up his mind to attempt what was probably the bravest action of his life.  He followed me, stole up softly behind, and with an old trick which they teach them on the other side of the Seine, he as nearly as possible throttled me.  However, I got my finger inside the slipknot, and I held him by the throat.  When I could breathe, I lifted him up and threw him into the marshes.  There I left him.  It seems the fall killed him.  That is the whole story.  It was absolutely God’s justice, but I am quite aware that the laws of the country do not exactly favour such summary treatment.  Accordingly I held my peace.  I am sorry for it now.”

“And Mr. Drew Foster?”

“Had left the Savoy Hotel when I reached there,” Ray said drily, “and had omitted to leave an address.”

“You might have trusted me,” I remarked, thoughtfully.

“If I had known you as well then as I do now,” Ray answered, “I would have risked it.”

Then as we sat in silence there came a low tapping at the door.  Ray looked at me keenly.

“Who visits you at this hour?” he asked.

“We will see,” I answered.

I had meant to be careful whom I admitted, but I had scarcely withdrawn the latch when the door was pushed open, and a slim, thickly-cloaked figure glided past me into the room.  I knew her by the supple swiftness of her movements.  Ray sat still, and smoked with the face of a Sphinx.

I think that at first she did not see him.  She swept round upon me and raised her veil.

“Guy,” she cried, “forgive me, but I could not help it.  I have made a mummy of myself, and I have walked along those awful sands that I might not be seen; but there is a question—­”

She saw Ray.  The words died from her lips.  She stood and shivered like a trapped bird.  He removed his pipe from his teeth.