s a
factor somewhere that he did not understand. The German looked at
him searchingly. "I wonder whether, after all, you know as much as we
think?" he said softly.

Tommy felt his ascendancy less sure than a moment before. His hold had
slipped a little. But he was puzzled. What had he said wrong? He spoke
out on the impulse of the moment.

"There may be things that you know which I do not. I have not pretended
to be aware of all the details of your show. But equally I've got
something up my sleeve that you don't know about. And that's where I
mean to score. Danvers was a damned clever fellow----" He broke off as
if he had said too much.

But the German's face had lightened a little.

"Danvers," he murmured. "I see----" He paused a minute, then waved to
Conrad. "Take him away. Upstairs--you know."

"Wait a minute," said Tommy. "What about the girl?"

"That may perhaps be arranged."

"It must be."

"We will see about it. Only one person can decide that."

"Who?" asked Tommy. But he knew the answer.

"Mr. Brown----"

"Shall I see him?"

"Perhaps."

"Come," said Conrad harshly.

Tommy rose obediently. Outside the door his gaoler motioned to him to
mount the stairs. He himself followed close behind. On the floor above
Conrad opened a door and Tommy passed into a small room. Conrad lit a
hissing gas burner and went out. Tommy heard the sound of the key being
turned in the lock.

He set to work to examine his prison. It was a smaller room than the
one downstairs, and there was something peculiarly airless about the
atmosphere of it. Then he realized that there was no window. He walked
round it. The walls were filthily dirty, as everywhere else. Four
pictures hung crookedly on the wall representing scenes from Faust.
Marguerite with her box of jewels, the church scene, Siebel and his
flowers, and Faust and Mephistopheles. The latter brought Tommy's mind
back to Mr. Brown again. In this sealed and closed chamber, with its
close-fitting heavy door, he felt cut off from the world, and the
sinister power of the arch-criminal seemed more real. Shout as he would,
no one could ever hear him. The place was a living tomb....

With an effort Tommy pulled himself together. He sank on to the bed
and gave himself up to reflection. His head ached badly; also, he was
hungry. The silence of the place was dispiriting.

"Anyway," said Tommy, trying to cheer himself, "I shall see the
chief--the mysterious Mr. Brown and wit