suggest sourly: "My resignation is at your disposal any time
you wish it."

"Accepted," said Wertheimer airily, "to take effect at once."

To this Duchemin merely grunted, as who should say he didn't consider
this turn of conversation desperately amusing. And Wertheimer resuming
his chair, the two remained for some moments in silence, a silence so
doggedly maintained on both sides that Duchemin was presently aware of
dull gnawings of curiosity. It occurred to him that his caller should
have found plenty to do in his bureau in the War Office....

"And to what," he enquired with the tedious irony of ennui, "is one
indebted for this unexpected honour on the part of the First
Under-Secretary of the British Secret Service? Or whatever your
high-sounding official title is..."

"Oh!" Wertheimer replied lazily--and knocked out his pipe--"I merely
dropped in to say good-bye."

Duchemin discovered symptoms of more animation.

"Hello! Where are you off to?"

"Nowhere--worse luck! I mean I'm here to bid you farewell and Godspeed
and what not on the eve of your departure from the British Isles."

"And where, pray, am I going?"

"That's for you to say."

Monsieur Duchemin meditated briefly. "I see," he announced: "I'm to
have a roving commission."

"Worse than that: none at all."

Duchemin opened his eyes wide.

"'The wind bloweth where it listeth,'" Wertheimer affirmed. "How do I
know whither you'll blow, now you're a free agent again, entirely on
your own? I've got no control over your movements."

"The S. S. has."

"Never no more. Didn't you tender me your resignation a moment ago?
Wasn't it promptly accepted?"

"Look here: What the devil----!"

"Well, if you must know," the Englishman interrupted hastily, "my
instructions were to give you your walking papers if you refused to
resign. So your connection with the S. S. is from this hour severed.
And if you ain't out of England within twenty-four hours, we'll jolly
well deport you. And that's that."

"One perceives one has served England not wisely but too well."

"Shrewd lad!" Wertheimer laughed. "You see, old soul, we admire you no
end, and we're determined to save your life. Word has leaked through
from Petrograd that your name has been triple-starred on the Smolny's
Index Expurgatorius. Karslake's too. An honour legitimately earned by
your pernicious collaboration in the Vassilyevski bust. Karslake's
already taken care of, but you're still in the limelig