tempted
to take his advice. Then the thought of George and all the complicated
suffering that I had been through rose up like a wall across my mind.

"No," I said firmly; "I'm damned if I'll go. I'll see this out if it
means the end of everything."

As I spoke there came a sharp "ting" from the clock on the
mantelpiece, and looking up I saw that it was half-past four. "By Gad,
Tommy," I added, "I must go from here, though. I've got to be back
at Edith Terrace by five o'clock, or I shall miss this mysterious
visitor."

"You're coming back here afterwards?" he asked.

I nodded. "If I can. I haven't the least notion how long they'll keep
me, but I told Joyce I would come round and let you know what had
happened."

"Good," said Tommy. "Don't be longer than you can help. I'll get in
something to eat, and we'll all have supper together--you and I and
Joyce, and then we can have a good jaw afterwards. There are still
tons of things I want to know about."

He thrust his arm through mine and walked with me to the door of the
flat.

"By the way, Thomas," I said, "I suppose the police aren't watching
your place, just on the off-chance of my rolling up. They must
remember you were rather a particular pal of mine."

"I don't think so," he answered. "They may have had a man on when you
first escaped, but if so he must have got fed up with the job by now.
Don't you worry in any case. Your guardian angel wouldn't recognize
you in that get up--let alone a policeman."

"If there's any justice," I said, "my guardian angel got the sack
three years ago."

With this irreverent remark, I shook his hand, and walking down the
passage passed out on to the embankment.

Having a good two miles to cover and only five-and-twenty minutes to
do it in, it struck me that driving would be the most agreeable method
of getting home. I hesitated for a moment between a taxi and a
motor bus, deciding in favour of the latter chiefly from motives of
sentiment. I had not been on one since my arrest, and besides that
the idea of travelling along the streets in open view of the British
public rather appealed to me. Since my interview with Tommy I was
beginning to feel the most encouraging confidence in McMurtrie's
handiwork.

So, turning up Beaufort Street, I jumped on to a "Red Victoria" at
the corner, and making my way upstairs, sat down on one of the front
seats. It was the first time I had been down the King's Road by
daylight, and the sight