She was bluffing desperately on the fragmentary and secondhand knowledge of Joe Blaythwayt, and prayed that Prester John might be absent. Even if he was there, however, she had her plan mapped out by this time, and she knew her escape was certain--which it assuredly was not if Prester John were away and she went on with her attempt as she had planned. "I vill see," said the man, and she braced herself up to the knowledge that it was now a case of no retreat, no retreat.... "You haf not been 'ere before?" "No. I'm always with the Chief." "Ze Cheef, _hein_? A graate man, but he hass not enof time for ze ladies, _non_?" He leered at her, and for a moment she dreaded that he might have penetrated her make-up. And then she realised that he took her for a lad of his own type and leanings, and she smiled. What was more, she entered her part so thoroughly and she permitted herself a coarse reply which would have sent the simple Joe, had he been there to hear, purple to the ears. "In zat room"---he jerked his thumb--"you vill find friends. I vill present you." "Right you are," she agreed gruffly. "Oh, listen. If John isn't here, you needn't bother to tell me. Just send him along as soon as he arrives. The Chief wants him in a hurry. If he doesn't turn up in half an hour I'll have to leave a message and go along and try to find him somewhere else." He nodded, and turned to her as though an idea had struck him. "Zere is somzing beeg an' secret---'ow you say?--in ze air to-night, _n'est-ce-pas_? You air ze second urgent messenger ve 'ave 'ad. Not ten meenits ago zere com a beeg man viz 'urry call for Morini, but Morini is not yet arrive, so 'e attend him." "There is something in the wind," Susan said easily. "But the Chief doesn't like questions." The man shook his head. "Somtimes I 'ave fear of 'is secrets. Even ve do not know quite 'ow beeg are 'is plans. Zere is zis tunnel, now. Even zose 'oo work do not know vhy for eet ees mak'. Zere ees a new _ingénieur_ down zere now 'oo mak' inspection. Ze Cheef send 'im wizout varning--a clevaire _Espagnol_ 'e 'as recruit. _Mais que faire? 'Y'a du pèse--nous sommes ses esclaves._" The Latin's halting speech broke into a torrent of grumbling French, accompanied by much head-shaking and gesticulation. He was still babbling on volubly as he opened the door he had indicated and waved her in.