? You may as well admit the ugly truth at
once, Goslin!"

"I do not conceal it, Sir Henry. We have."

"By whom?"

"By somebody here--in this house."

"Here! What do you mean? Somebody in my own house?"

"Yes. The Greek affair is known. They have been put upon their guard in
Athens."

"By whom?" cried the Baronet, starting from his chair.

"By somebody whom we cannot trace--somebody who must have had access to
your papers."

"No one has had access to my papers. I always take good care of that,
Goslin--very good care of that. The affair has leaked out at your end,
not at mine."

"At our end we are always circumspect," the Frenchman said calmly. "Rest
assured that nobody but we ourselves are aware of our operations or
intentions. We know only too well that any revelation would assuredly
bring upon us--disaster."

"But a revelation has actually been made!" exclaimed Sir Henry, bending
forward. "Therefore the worst is to be feared."

"Exactly. That is what I am endeavouring to convey."

"The betrayal must have come from your end, I expect; not from here."

"I regret to assert that it came from here--from this very room."

"How do you know that?"

"Because in Athens they have a complete copy of one of the documents
which you showed me on the last occasion I was here, and which we have
never had in our possession."

The blind man was silent. The allegation admitted of no argument.

"My daughter Gabrielle is the only person who has seen it, and she
understands nothing of our affairs, as you know quite well."

"She may have copied it."

"My daughter would never betray me, Goslin," said Sir Henry in a hard,
distinct voice, rising from the table and slowly walking down the long,
book-lined room.

"Has no one else been able to open your safe and examine its contents?"
asked the Frenchman, glancing over to the small steel door let into the
wall close to where he was sitting.

"No one. Though I'm blind, do you consider me a fool? Surely I recognise
only too well how essential is secrecy. Have I not always taken the most
extraordinary precautions?"

"You have, Sir Henry. I quite admit that. Indeed, the precautions you've
taken would, if known to the world, be regarded--well, as simply
amazing."

"I hope the world will never know the truth."

"It will know the truth. They have the copies in Athens. If there is a
traitor--as we have now proved the existence of one--then we can never
in future rest secure