d my way there in this fog, the
Lord only knows! And I don't know whom to apply to when I get
there. The police-station, I suppose!"

He unlocked the door and rang for Martha.

"I have to go over to Stunning, Martha," he said, "I will try and
be back for dinner at eight!"

He had no intention of accompanying the party to the Dyke Inn. He
must preserve his incognito until Mortimer, the main quarry, had
been run down.

He filled his case from the box of cigarettes on the table and
thrust a box of matches into his pocket to light his head-lamp.
Then, taking a cap from the hat-stand, he opened the front door.
Even as he did so a big open car slowed down throbbing outside
the porch. A man sprang out and advanced into the light streaming
from the front door into the eddying mist. It was Mortimer.

"Fortune," thought Desmond, "has broken her rule. She has given
me a second chance!"

"Well met, Bellward!" cried Mortimer, blinking at the other
through his thick glasses. "Tut, tut! What a night! You were
never going out, I swear."

Already Desmond had decided in his mind the course of action he
would pursue. For the moment he must let the party at the Dyke
Inn slide in favor of the bigger catch. He must slip away later
and have another try at the telephone and if it were still out of
order, he must endeavor to overpower Mortimer and then go for
assistance himself. On a night like this it was useless to think
of employing a half-blind old dolt like Martha to take a message.
As for the odd man, he lived at Wakefield, and went away at dusk
every evening.

So Desmond muttered some plausible lie about wanting to have a
look at the weather and cordially invited Mortimer in.

"You will stay for dinner" he said.

"Gladly," replied the other, sinking with aunt into the settee.
"And I should be glad if we might dine early."

Desmond raised his eyebrows.

"... Because," Mortimer resumed, "I have ventured to ask a few
friends round here to... to have an evening at bridge. Doubtless,
you have cards, eh?"

Desmond pointed to a card-table standing in the corner with
several packs of cards and markers. Then he rang and told the
housekeeper that they would dine as soon as possible.

"The coming fortnight," said Mortimer, tucking his napkin into
his collar as they sat at the dinner table, "is pregnant with
great events. No less than ten divisions are, I understand, to be
transferred to the other side. I have waited to communic