ct is, Marchmont, the only
man I have had since you left me who can read my writing when I take
rough pencil notes in a hurry, has collapsed just to-day, out of sheer
excitement I believe, and because he sat up for one night writing."

"Poor fellow!" said Rendel, half to himself.

"Yes," said Stamfordham drily; and then he went on, as one who knows
that he must leave the sick and wounded behind without waiting to pity
them. "These," unfolding the paper, "are notes of a conversation that I
have just had at the German Embassy with Bergowitz." Rendel's quick
movement as he heard the name showed that he realised what that
juxtaposition meant at such a moment. "Every moment is precious,"
Stamfordham went on, "and it suddenly dawned on me as I left the Embassy
that you were close at hand and might be willing to do it."

The German Embassy was at the moment, during some building operations,
occupying temporary premises near Belgrave Square.

"I should think so indeed," Rendel said eagerly.

"The notes are very short, as you see," said Stamfordham. "You know, of
course, what has been happening. I needn't go into that." And as he
spoke a boy passed under the windows crying the evening papers, and they
distinctly heard "Panic on the Stock Exchange." The two men's eyes met.

"Yes, there is a panic on the Stock Exchange," Stamfordham said,
"because every one thinks there will be war--but there probably won't."

"Not?" said Rendel. "Can it be stopped?"

Stamfordham answered him by unfolding the piece of paper and laying it
down before him on the table. It was a map of Africa, roughly outlined,
but still clearly enough to show unmistakably what it was intended to
convey, for all down the map from north to south there was a thick line
drawn to the west of the Cape to Cairo Railway--the latter being
indicated, but more faintly, in pencil--starting at Alexandria and
running down through the whole of the continent, bending slightly to the
southward between Bechuanaland and Namaqualand, and ending at the
Orange River. East of that line was written ENGLAND, west of it GERMANY,
and below it some lines of almost illegible writing in pencil.

Rendel almost gasped.

"What?" he said; "a partition of Africa?"

"Yes," said Stamfordham. Then he said with a sort of half smile, "The
partition, that is to say, so far as it is in our own hands. But,"
speaking rapidly, "I will just put you in possession of the facts of the
case and give you