But it was not until months afterwards that Desmond heard of the youth who, caught lurking in the area of the Chief’s London house, was found to be carrying a hypodermic needle filled with prussic acid, and of the endeavour to derail the train by which the Chief was travelling to a conference in the north. But when, one spring morning, the Chief arrived by car at Desmond Okewood’s Surrey bungalow, Desmond saw at once by his face that the strain was beginning to tell. The steady grey eyes were as keen as ever and the mouth had lost nothing of its firmness; but there was a set air of restraint about the big man which did not deceive Desmond. They breakfasted together and, the meal done, the Chief proposed a walk in the garden. “We can talk better in the open air,” he remarked as he filled his pipe. It was an old garden whose high red walls, now clothed with the blossom of peach and apple, were a guarantee against eavesdroppers. For a spell they strolled in silence along the paths bordering the beds bright with spring flowers, the busy clamour of thrush and blackbird the only sound. “Two days will see us through now,” the Chief remarked suddenly. “Bliss has reached Berlin with the jewels, Okewood. He has had the most express injunctions to hand them over there to a trustworthy messenger of his choosing, for he himself, unless I am greatly mistaken, is by this time a marked man. The messenger will immediately convey the jewels to Brussels where you will take charge of them. A plane will be waiting for you at the Brussels aerodrome, you will fly straight back to Croydon where a car will be in readiness day or night to take you to the Bank of England. There you will hand the jewels over to the Governor against his receipt. Is that clear?” “Perfectly!” “To prevent leakage I forbade Bliss throughout his trip to communicate with me at all. I, however, have been able to send him instructions from time to time. His messenger was due to leave Berlin last night, and will report to you to-morrow evening at Box A at the Flora Theatre—it’s a music-hall—in Brussels!” Desmond nodded. “Who is it?” “Bliss had no means of telling me. But I have arranged a recognition signal. The messenger will ask you the question: ‘Do you know the Albany?’ to which you will reply: ‘From the Mansion to Vigo Street!’ On that answer, and on that answer only, the jewels will be handed over. Have you got that?” Desmond repeated question and answer. “It sounds idiotic,” said the Chief apologetically, “but I had to improvise something on the spot.” “And when do I leave?” Desmond asked.