hall and
into his study. Gerald, who was on his way to the dining-room, heard the
ring of the telephone bell and the call for the trunk special line. He
hesitated for a moment. Then he made his way slowly down towards the
study and stood outside the door, listening. In a moment he heard Mr.
Fentolin's clear voice, very low yet very penetrating.

"The Mediterranean Fleet will be forty-seven hours before it comes
together," was the message he heard. "The Channel Fleet will manoeuvre
off Sheerness, waiting for it. The North Sea Fleet is seventeen units
under nominal strength."

Gerald turned the handle of the door slowly and entered. Mr. Fentolin
was just replacing the receiver on its stand. He looked up at his
nephew, and his eyebrows came together.

"What do you mean by this?" he demanded. "Don't you know that I allow no
one in here when I am telephoning on the private wire?"

Gerald closed the door behind him and summoned up all his courage.

"It is because I have heard what you were saying over the telephone that
I am here," he declared. "I want to know to whom you were sending that
message which you have intercepted outside."

CHAPTER XXII

Mr. Fentolin sat for a moment in his chair with immovable face. Then he
pointed to the door, which Gerald had left open behind him.

"Close that door, Gerald."

The boy obeyed. Mr. Fentolin waited until he had turned around again.

"Come and stand over here by the side of the table," he directed.

Gerald came without hesitation. He stood before his uncle with folded
arms. There was something else besides sullenness in his face this
morning, something which Mr. Fentolin was quick to recognise.

"I do not quite understand the nature of your question, Gerald," Mr.
Fentolin began. "It is unlike you. You do not seem yourself. Is there
anything in particular the matter?"

"Only this," Gerald answered firmly. "I don't understand why this naval
fellow should come here and ask you to close up your wireless because
secrets have been leaking out, and a few moments afterwards you should
be picking up a message and telephoning to London information which was
surely meant to be private. That's all. I've come to ask you about it."

"You heard the message, then?"

"I did."

"You listened--at the keyhole?"

"I listened outside," Gerald assented doggedly. "I am glad I listened.
Do you mind answering my question?"

"Do I mind!" Mr. Fentolin repeated softly. "Really, Gerald