of keys that she will find in her father's dressing-case. You may take
it from me that no harm whatever is intended to the young lady. When
the letter is finished you will be so good as to push it under the door
of your room."

"It is an excellent programme for you," Berrington said drily. "There is
only one flaw in the little arrangement that I can see--I decline to do
anything of the kind. You may do whatever you like and treat me in any
way you please, but I shall decline to write that letter. And you may
whistle up the tube all day, so far as I am concerned."

An oath came up the tube, then the voice of Sartoris, as if talking to
somebody else. The whistle was clapped on, but almost immediately it was
removed and another voice whispered the name of Berrington. His heart
gave a great leap. Mary was speaking.

"For heaven's sake, write that letter," came the agonized whisper. "I
pledge you my word----"

The voice stopped and the whistle was clapped into the tube again.

CHAPTER XXIII

The request was a strange one, Berrington thought.

Not that he failed to trust Mary Sartoris. In spite of everything, he
had faith in her. Whatever she was doing in that queer household, no
shadow of shame or disgrace could possibly lie on her.

And yet what could she want that letter for? Again, what was the need to
drag Beatrice Darryll into this black business? The more Berrington
thought it over, the more puzzled he became. Only one thing was
tolerably clear--Sir Charles Darryll had valuable interests somewhere,
interests of which he had been in utter ignorance, and which these
ruffians had determined to obtain and apply to their own ends.

Still, Berrington hesitated. He did not know what would be for the best.
If he declined to write that letter it might be the worse for him and
everybody else in the long run; if he did write the letter it might
possibly prove harmful to Beatrice. Certainly Carl Sartoris had that end
in view. Then there was another thing to take into consideration. Had
Inspector Field got safely away?

Berrington could not be absolutely certain, for the reason that there
had been no attempt to rescue him which was Field's obvious duty when he
escaped. Yet a great many hours had passed and there had been no attempt
of the kind.

Very thoughtfully Berrington took paper and pen and ink from the drawer
in the table. He was not surprised to see that the paper bore the
address "100, Audley Place."