“Well, I daresay it’s wise to take every precaution,” observed Walter.  “But I can’t imagine either him or any one else getting near you without your knowledge.”

Robert Dunn,—­or rather, Rupert Dunsmore, as was his name by right of birth—­laughed again to himself, very softly in the darkness.

“Perhaps not,” he said.  “But I take no chances I can avoid with Deede Dawson.  Come along.”

They crossed the road together and sat down on the common at an open spot, where none could well approach them unheard or unseen.  Dunn laid his hand affectionately on Walter’s shoulder as they settled themselves.

“Old chap,” he said.  “It was good of you to come here.  You’ve run some risk.  It’s none too safe near Bittermeads.  But I’m glad to see you, Walter.  It’s a tremendous relief after all this strain of doubt and watching and suspicion to be with some one I know—­some one I can trust—­some one like you, Walter.”

In the darkness, Walter put out his hand and took Dunn’s and held it for a moment.

“I have been anxious about you,” he said.  Dunn returned the pressure warmly.

“I know,” he said.  “Jove, old chap, it’s good to see you again.  You don’t know what it’s like after all this long time, feeling that every step was a step in the dark, to be at last with a real friend again.”

“I think I can guess,” Walter said softly.

Dunn shook his head.

“No one could,” he said.  “I tell you I’ve doubted, distrusted, suspected till I wasn’t sure of my own shadow.  Well, that’s all over now.  Tomorrow we can act.”

“Tell me what I’m to do,” Walter Dunsmore said.

“There’s a whole lot I don’t understand yet,” Dunn continued slowly.  “I suppose it was that that was making me feel so jolly down before you came.  I don’t feel sure somehow—­not sure.  Deede Dawson is such a cunning brute.  He seems to have laid his whole hand bare, and yet there may be cards up his sleeve still.  Besides, his plan he told me about seems so bald.  And I don’t understand why he should think he is so sure of what I—­I mean, of what Rupert —­it’s a bit confusing to have a double identity—­is going to do.  He says he is sure Rupert Dunsmore is to be at the Brook Bourne Spring tomorrow at four.  He says his information is certain, and that he has full knowledge of what Rupert Dunsmore is going to do, which is more than I have.  But what can it be that’s making him so sure?”

“That’s probably simple enough,” said Walter.  “You said you suspected there was a leakage from Burns & Swift’s office, and you told Burns to make misleading statements about your movements occasionally when he was dictating his letters.  Well, I expect this is one.”

“That may be; only Deede Dawson seems so very sure,” answered Dunn.  “But what’s specially important is his saying that his employer, whoever it is, who is behind all this, will be there too.”