had given the alarm; had held to his point
until he had succeeded in securing immediate help. Sleep was impossible
for him that night, but he would return to his rooms, pass the time with
a book and a pipe, until the fateful hour had passed. He passed out
into the street, and looked round for the taxi which he had instructed
to wait. To his annoyance it was not to be seen, but after a momentary
hesitation it occurred to him that there might be some rule forbidding
vehicles to remain before the entrance, as in the crowded thoroughfares
of the west, and that he might find the man waiting round one of the
nearest turnings. He strode on therefore, but without success, till
finally he decided to take the nearest cut which should lead him to a
Tube station. The cut was represented by a narrow lane, lined on either
side with small shops. Lessing walked sharply, looking neither to right
nor left. The interview had left him nervously exhausted, and he
shivered in the chill night air; he was irritated with the recalcitrant
chauffeur, irritated with himself for failing to do the one sensible
thing under the circumstances--turn back into the office, and telephone
for another car. To walk through the streets in the vicinity of
Scotland Yard, a noticeable figure without outer coat or wrapping, was
the last thing in the world which he should have done on such an
occasion.

But it was too late to turn back. A few more minutes would take him to
the Tube station, or better still to a thoroughfare where he could pick
up another car.

By this time Lessing had reached the end of the cross-road, at which was
situated an eating-house of a rough and unsavoury appearance. As he
approached the door it opened, and a group of men streamed into the
street, talking together in some eager unintelligible patois, at the
sound of which a shiver of impending danger shot through Lessing's
veins. Instinctively he averted his head, and quickened his pace, but
instinct was a true prophet, it projected the coming event upon his
brain, so that he knew what was before him, before the dark, bearded
face glared into his, and the thick voice hissed the eloquent word into
his ear:

"_Traitor_!"

Lessing did not stop to think. He was one to six, and escape was the
necessity of the moment. He took to his heels, ran at full speed until
the narrow lane was left behind, and the lights of Trafalgar Square
shone around him, when following his first impul