Dominey smiled.

“Mine is only the local Yeomanry rig-out,” he replied.  “They will nab you for the Guards!”

Dominey stepped back through the open windows into his study as Pelham strolled off.  He was seated at his desk, poring over some letters, when a few minutes later Seaman was ushered into the room.  For a single moment his muscles tightened, his frame became tense.  Then he realised his visitor’s outstretched hands of welcome and he relaxed.  Seaman was perspiring, vociferous and excited.

“At last!” He exclaimed.  “Donner und!—­My God Dominey, what is this?”

“Thirteen years ago,” Dominey explained, “I resigned a commission in the Norfolk Yeomanry.  That little matter, however, has been adjusted.  At a crisis like this—­”

“My friend, you are wonderful!” Seaman interrupted solemnly.  “You are a man after my own heart, you are thorough, you leave nothing undone.  That is why,” he added, lowering his voice a little, “we are the greatest race in the world.  Drink before everything, my friend,” he went on, “drink I must have.  What a day!  The very clouds that hide the sun are full of sulphurous heat.”

Dominey rang the bell, ordered hock and seltzer and ice.  Seaman drank and threw himself into an easy-chair.

“There is no fear of your being called out of the country because of that, I hope?” he asked a little anxiously, nodding his head towards his companion’s uniform.

“Not at present,” Dominey answered.  “I am a trifle over age to go with the first batch or two.  Where have you been?”

Seaman hitched his chair a little nearer.

“In Ireland,” he confided.  “Sorry to desert you as I did, but you do not begin to count for us just yet.  There was just a faint doubt as to what they were doing to do about internment.  That is why I had to get the Irish trip off my mind.”

“What has been decided?”

“The Government has the matter under consideration,” Seaman replied, with a chuckle.  “I can certainly give myself six months before I need to slip off.  Now tell me, why do I find you down here?”

“After Terniloff left,” Dominey explained, “I felt I wanted to get away.  I have been asked to start some recruiting work down here.”

“Terniloff—­left his little volume with you?”

“Yes!”

“Where is it?”

“Safe,” Dominey replied.

Seaman mopped his forehead.

“It needs to be,” he muttered.  “I have orders to see it destroyed.  We can talk of that presently.  Sometimes, when I am away from you, I tremble.  It may sound foolish, but you have in your possession just the two things—­that map and Von Terniloff’s memoirs—­which would wreck our propaganda in every country of the world.”

“Both are safe,” Dominey assured him.  “By the by, my friend,” he went on, “do you know that you yourself are forgetting your usual caution?”

“In what respect?” Seaman demanded quickly.