Lavendale pushed them both back into the sitting-room. There was an ugly look in the man's face, but Félanie's courage seemed to have deserted her. She clutched at the air for a moment and sank into an easy-chair, hiding her face amongst the cushions. Lavendale's hand fell firmly upon the loose sheets of paper strewn over the table. 'These are what I have come for,' he announced, collecting them and thrusting them into his pocket. 'I presume you have had no time to make a copy?' He glanced searchingly around the apartment. It was obvious that nothing of the sort had been attempted. Anders stole slowly back towards the writing-table, his hand was upon the knob of one of the drawers, but Lavendale suddenly gripped him by the coat collar and swung him almost off his feet. 'Listen,' he said coldly, 'I know nothing of you, Anders, except that it is my belief that you are one of the vermin of the war, a spy selling his own country. The woman there was once my friend. For that reason, if you leave England on Saturday for America, this matter is finished. If either of you remain in London, or make any attempt to cross to Holland, France or any other country, between now and then, something very ugly will happen. You understand?' Anders' courage had failed him pitifully. Félanie, on the contrary, had recovered herself. 'I have been a fool, perhaps,' she confessed. 'You were just one of the few chances against me. Very well, we go to America on Saturday.' 'But our contract?' Anders faltered. 'The revue? Elaine's success? They have doubled our salaries. London is at her feet.' 'After Saturday,' Lavendale reminded him calmly, 'the best that can happen to you, Anders, is a bandaged forehead and twelve bullets, in the courtyard of the Tower. I will not offend your taste by suggesting----' Félanie stamped her foot and turned her shoulder contemptuously upon Anders. 'It is finished, Monsieur Lavendale,' she pronounced. 'If there were any bribe in the world I could offer you----' It was her one rather faint-hearted effort and he laughed at the seduction in her eyes. 'You will be watched from this moment until the steamer leaves Liverpool,' he concluded, leaving the room and closing the door behind him.... In the hall he met Lenwade, waiting for the lift, incoherent still but sober. Lavendale drew him out into the courtyard, where Suzanne was still seated in the car. 'Lenwade,' he announced, 'I have your plans. They are safe with me. I shall keep them until to-morrow morning. You can come to me at 17 Sackville Street at ten o'clock. Until then they will be safe.' 'Thank God!' the other murmured. 'How did you manage it?' Lavendale shook him off a little contemptuously and took his place by Suzanne's side. 'They leave on Saturday for Liverpool,' he told her. 'I hand the care of them, from now until then, over to your branch.' She pressed his hand and drew a little closer to him. 'My dear ally!' she murmured.