smoke of the transports smudging the horizon.

"What are they going to do with Nur-el-Din?" she asked rather
abruptly.

"Didn't the Chief tell you?" said Desmond.

"He only asked me what I had to say in the matter as I had had to
suffer at her hands. But I told him I left the matter entirely to
him. I said I took your point of view that Nur-el-Din was the
victim of her husband..."

"That was generous of you, Barbara," Desmond said gently.

She sighed.

"Daddy knew her as a little girl," she answered, "and he was so
pleased to see her again that night. She never had a chance. I
hope she'll get one now!"

"They're going to intern her, I believe," said Desmond, "until
the end of the war; they could do nothing else, you know. But she
will be well looked after, and I think she will be safer in our
charge than if she were allowed to remain at liberty. The German
Secret Service has had a bad knock, you know. Somebody has got to
pay for it!"

"I know," the girl whispered, "and it frightens me."

"You poor child!" said Desmond, "you've had a rough time. But
it's all over now. And that reminds me, Barney is coming up for
sentence to-day; they charged him with murder originally; but
Marigold kept on getting him remanded until they were able to
alter the charge to one of burglary. He'll probably get two
years' hard labor, Marigold says."

"Poor Barney!" said Barbara, "I wish they would let him go free.
All these weeks the mystery of poor Daddy's death has so weighed
upon my mind that now it has been cleared up I feel as though one
day I might be happy again. And I want everybody to be happy,
too!"

"Barbara," said Desmond and took her hand.

Barbara calmly withdrew it from his grasp and brushed an
imaginary curl out of her eye.

"Any news of your hundred thousand pound kit?" she asked, by way
of turning the conversation.

"By Jove," said Desmond, "there was a letter from Cox's at the
club this morning but I was so rushed to catch my train that I
shoved it in my pocket and forgot all about it. I wrote and asked
them weeks ago to get my kit back from France. Here we are!"

He pulled a letter out of his pocket, slit open the envelope and
took out a printed form. Barbara, propping herself up with one
hand on his shoulder, leaned over him to read the communication.
This is what she read.

"We are advised," the form ran, "that a Wolseley valise forwarded
to you on the 16th inst. from France has been lost by enemy