titution amongst the initiated.
I've plodded these marshes sometimes from midnight till daybreak, and
although one's always hearing rumours, until last night I have never
seen or heard of a single unusual incident."

"You had no idea, then," Julian persisted, "what it was that you were on
the look-out for the night before last? You had no idea, say, from any
source whatever, that there was going to be an attempt on the part of
the enemy to communicate with friends on this side?"

"Good God, no! Even to have known it would have been treason."

"You admit that?"

Furley drew himself stiffly up in his chair. His mass of brown hair
seemed more unkempt than usual, his hard face sterner than ever by
reason of its disfiguring frown.

"What the hell do you mean, Julian?"

"I mean," Julian replied, "that I have reason to suspect you, Furley,
of holding or attempting to hold secret communication with an enemy
country."

The pipestem which he was holding snapped in Furley's fingers. His eyes
were filled with fury.

"Damn you, Julian!" he exclaimed. "If I could stand on two legs, I'd
break your head. How dare you come here and talk such rubbish."

"Isn't there some truth in what I have just said?" Julian asked sternly.

"Not a word."

Julian was silent for a moment. Furley was sitting upright upon the
sofa, his keen eyes aglint with anger.

"I am waiting for an explanation, Julian," he announced.

"You shall have it," was the prompt reply. "The companion of the man who
was shot, for whom the police are searching at this moment, is a guest
in my father's house. I have had to go to the extent of lying to save
her from detection."

"Her?" Furley gasped.

"Yes! The youth in fisherman's oilskins, into whose hands that message
passed last night, is Miss Catherine Abbeway. The young lady has
referred me to you for some explanation as to its being in her
possession."

Furley remained absolutely speechless for several moments. His first
expression was one of dazed bewilderment. Then the light broke in upon
him. He began to understand. When he spoke, all the vigour had left his
tone.

"You'll have to let me think about this for a moment, Julian," he said.

"Take your own time. I only want an explanation."

Furley recovered himself slowly. He stretched out his hand towards the
pipe rack, filled another pipe and lit it. Then he began.

"Julian," he said, "every word that I have spoken to you about the night
before la