endurance.

Having spent four hours sleeping in his clothes, he deemed that he had
paid full courtesy to nature. He unlocked a drawer, picked out a deadly
little automatic pistol, and dropped it into his jacket pocket. He
rarely went armed, and had never fired a shot in his life save at a
target. But on certain occasions a pistol was useful to "back a bluff."
And on the mission he had in mind he might need something. He felt in
his breast-pocket to make certain that the enlarged photograph of the
finger-prints found on the dagger were there, and sallied forth into the
dusk.

In his own mind he had definitely decided on the immediately important
points in the inquiry. There was Ivan, the missing servant, to be found,
as also the Princess Petrovska. The police of a dozen countries were
keeping a look-out for them. Then there was the knife with its quaint,
horizontal hilt of ivory. Rigorous inquiry had failed to elicit its
place of origin, yet so strange a weapon once seen would infallibly be
recognised again. Finally, there was the question of Sir Ralph
Fairfield.

The evening papers had seized avidly on a mystery after their own heart,
and glaring contents-bills told of "Millionaire Murdered on Wedding Eve.
Strange Mystery." But Foyle had already seen the papers. He held
straight on for the Albany.

"Was Sir Ralph Fairfield in?" The question was superfluous, for he had
already seen Chief Detective-Inspector Green standing outside apparently
much interested in an evening paper. And Green would not have been there
unless Sir Ralph were about.

Foyle was received coldly by the baronet, and his quick eyes noted a
half-empty decanter on the table. Fairfield was palpably nervous and ill
at ease. He was plainly distrustful of his visitor's purpose. The
detective was apologetic and good-humoured.

"I have come to apologise for my rudeness at Grosvenor Gardens," he
began. "I was worried, and you were, of course, upset. Now we are both
more calm, I come to ask you if you would like to add anything to what
you said. Of course, you'll be called to give evidence at the inquest,
and it would make it easier for you as well as for us if we knew what
you were going to say."

Fairfield shrugged his shoulders. "I have told you all you will learn
from me," he said quickly. "I suppose you've seen Lady Eileen Meredith."

"No." The lie was prompt, but the superintendent salved his conscience
with the thought that it was a necessary