For a moment only he struggled, and then, suddenly, he submitted. He knew what it was he wished to save; it was the watch chain to which were attached the two keys of the safe in his bedroom. He wore them among a bunch of old-fashioned Georgian seals which he had acquired in the way of business, and he had had the keys gilt, turned to a dull gold colour, to match the seals. It was possible, just possible, that they might escape the notice of these thick-witted men about him. "What does this mean?" he demanded; and then he stopped, for there rose a distant sound of crying and screaming in the quiet place. "What is that?" he cried, startled. The police inspector came forward; he cleared his throat. "I'm sorry to tell you, Head"--he spoke quite civilly, even kindly--"that we've had to arrest your wife, too." "This is too much! She is a child--a mere child! Innocent as a baby unborn. An Englishwoman, too, as you know well, Mr. Watkins. They must be all mad in this town--it is quite mad to suspect my poor little Polly!" The inspector was a kindly man, naturally humane, and he had known the prisoner for a considerable number of years. As for poor Polly, he had always been acquainted with her family, and had seen her grow up from a lovely child into a very pretty girl. "Look here!" he said. "It's no good kicking up a row. Unluckily for her, they found the key with which they opened your safe in her possession. D'you take my meaning?" Alfred Head grew rather white. "That's impossible!" he said confidently. "There are but two keys, and I have them both." The other looked at him with a touch of pity. "There must have been a third key," he said slowly. "I've got it here myself. It was hidden away in an old-fashioned dressing-case. Besides, Mrs. Head didn't put up any fight. But if she can prove, as she says, that she knows no German, and that you didn't know she had a key of the safe--for that's what she says--well, that'll help her, of course." "But there's nothing _in_ the safe," Head objected, quickly, "nothing of what might be called an incriminating nature, Mr. Watkins. Only business letters and papers, and all of them sent me before the War." The other man looked at him, and hesitated. He had gone quite as far as old friendship allowed. "That's as may be," he said cautiously. "I know nothing of all that. They've been sealed up, and are going off to London. What caused you to be arrested, Mr. Head--this much I may tell you--is information which was telephoned down to that London gentleman half an hour ago. But it was just an accident that the key Mrs. Head had hidden away was found so quickly--just a bit of bad luck for her, if I may say so." "Then I suppose I shan't be allowed to see Polly?" There was a tone of extreme dejection in the voice.