“A paper.” “You mean that you stole Sir Charles’s keys and opened his bureau?” “There was no stealing. He was out and they were lying on his dressing table. Sidney had told me to do it the first time I got a chance.” “What had he told you to do?” “To search through Sir Charles’s papers and see if there was anything with the word ‘Fire-Tongue’ in it!” “Ah!” exclaimed Harley, a note of suppressed triumph in his voice. “Go on.” “There was only one paper about it,” continued the girl, now speaking rapidly, “or only one that I could find. I put the bureau straight again and took this paper to Sidney.” “But you must have read the paper?” “Only a bit of it. When I came to the word ‘Fire-Tongue,’ I didn’t read any more.” “What was it about--the part you did read?” “The beginning was all about India. I couldn’t understand it. I jumped a whole lot. I hadn’t much time and I was afraid Mrs. Howett would find me. Then, further on, I came to ‘Fire-Tongue’.” “But what did it say about ‘Fire-Tongue’?” “I couldn’t make it out, sir. Oh, indeed I’m telling you the truth! It seemed to me that Fire-Tongue was some sort of mark.” “Mark?” “Yes--a mark Sir Charles had seen in India, and then again in London--” “In London! Where in London?” “On someone’s arm.” “What! Tell me the name of this person!” “I can’t remember, sir! Oh, truly I can’t.” “Was the name mentioned?” “Yes.” “Was it Armand?” “No.” “Ormond?” “No.” “Anything like Ormond?” The girl shook her head. “It was not Ormuz Khan?” “No. I am sure it wasn’t.” Paul Harley’s expression underwent a sudden change. “Was it Brown?” he asked. She hesitated. “I believe it did begin with a B,” she admitted. “Was it Brunn?” “No! I remember, sir. It was Brinn!” “Good God!” muttered Harley. “Are you sure?” “Quite sure.” “Do you know any one of that name?” “No, sir.” “And is this positively all you remember?” “On my oath, it is.” “How often have you seen Sidney since your dismissal?” “I saw him on the morning I left.” “And then not again until to-day?” “No.” “Does he live in London?” “No. He is a valet to a gentleman who lives in the country.” “How do you know?” “He told me.” “What is the name of the place?” “I don’t know.” “Once again--what is the name of the place?” The girl bit her lip. “Answer!” shouted Harley. “I swear, sir,” cried the girl, beginning suddenly to sob, “that I don’t know! Oh, please let me go! I swear I have told you all I know!” “Good!” Paul Harley glanced at his watch, crossed the room, and opened the door. He turned. “You can go now,” he said. “But I don’t think you will find Sidney waiting!” It wanted only three minutes to midnight, and Innes, rather haggard and anxious-eyed, was pacing Paul Harley’s private office when the ‘phone bell rang. Eagerly he took up the receiver. “Hullo!” came a voice. “That you, Innes?” “Mr. Harley!” cried Innes. “Thank God you are safe! I was growing desperately anxious!”