ng to the Club," Draconmeyer advised,
good-humouredly. "You can be there yourself before a message could reach
him."

"Very well," she assented. "I will be ready in ten minutes...."

Draconmeyer took his wife back to her room.

"Did I do as you wished, dear?" she asked him anxiously.

"Absolutely," he replied.

He helped her back to her couch and stooped and kissed her. She leaned
back wearily. It was obvious that she had found the exertion of moving
even so far exhausting. Then he returned to his own apartments. Rapidly
he unlocked his dispatch box and took out one or two notes from Violet.
They were all of no importance--answers to invitations, or appointments.
He spread them out, took a sheet of paper and a broad pen. Without
hesitation he wrote:

Congratulations on your escape, but why do you run such risks! I
wish you would go back to England.

VIOLET.

He held the sheet of notepaper a little away from him and looked at it
critically. The imitation was excellent. He thrust the few lines into an
envelope, addressed them to Hunterleys and descended to the hall. He
left the note at the office.

"Send this up to Sir Henry, will you?" he instructed. "Let him have it
as quickly as possible."

Once more he crossed the hall and waited close to the lift by which she
would descend. All the time he kept on glancing nervously around. Things
were going his way, but the great danger remained--if they should meet
first by chance in the corridor, or in the lift! Hunterleys might think
it his duty to go at once to his wife's apartment in case she had heard
the rumour of his death. The minutes dragged by. He had climbed the
great ladder slowly. More than once he had felt it sway beneath his
feet. Yet to him those moments seemed almost the longest of his life.
Then at last she came. She was looking very pale, but to his relief he
saw that she was dressed for the Club. She was wearing a grey dress and
black hat. He remembered with a pang of fury that grey was her husband's
favourite colour.

"I suppose there is no doubt that Henry is at the Club?" she asked,
looking eagerly around the hall.

"Not the slightest," he assured her. "We can have some tea there and we
are certain to come across him somewhere."

She made no further difficulty. As they turned into the long passage he
gave a sigh of relief. Every step they took meant safety. He talked to
her as lightly as possible, ignoring the fact that she sca