"You have, of course, had this man followed," the other put in. "You have not let him leave this house alone." "Cæsar was after him before he left the garden gate--naturally. But----" Woodhouse held up an interrupting hand. "Pardon me, Doctor Koch; did you get this fellow's name?" "He refused to give it--said I wouldn't know him, anyway." "Was he an undersized man, very thin, sparse hair, and a face showing dissipation?" Woodhouse went on. "Nervous, jerky way of talking--fingers to his mouth, as if to feel his words as they come out--brandy or wine breath? Can't you guess who he was?" "I guess nothing." "The _target_!" At the word Louisa had used in describing Capper to Woodhouse, Koch's face underwent a change. He lowered his pistol. "Ach!" he said. "The man they are to arrest. And you have the number." "That was Capper--Capper, formerly of the Belgian office--kicked out for drunkenness. One time he sold out Downing Street in the matter of the Lord Fisher letters; you remember the scandal when they came to light--his majesty, the kaiser's, Kiel speech referring to them. He is a good stalking horse." Koch's suspicion had left him. Still gripping the automatic, he sat down on the edge of the operating chair, regarding the other man respectfully. "Come--come, Doctor Koch; you and I can not continue longer at cross-purposes." The captain spoke with terse displeasure. "This man Capper showed you nothing to prove his claims, yet you come back to this room and threaten my life on the strength of a drunkard's bare word. What his mission is you know; how he got that number, which is the number I have shown you on my ticket from the Wilhelmstrasse--you understand how such things are managed. I happen to know, however, because it was my business to know, that Capper left Marseilles for Malta aboard _La Vendée_ four days ago; he was not expected to go beyond Malta." Koch caught him up: "But the fellow told me his boat didn't stop at Malta--was warned by wireless to proceed at all speed to Alexandria, for fear of the _Breslau_, known to be in the Adriatic." Woodhouse spread out his hands with a gesture of finality. "There you are! Capper finds himself stranded in Alexandria, knows somehow of your position as a man of the Wilhelmstrasse--such things can not be hid from the underground workers; comes here to explain himself to you and excuse himself for the loss of his number. Is there anything more to be said except that we must keep a close watch on him?" The physician rose and paced the room, his hands clasped behind his back. The automatic bobbed against the tails of his long coat as he walked. After a minute's restless striding, he broke his step before the desk, jerked open the drawer, and dropped the weapon in it. Back to where Woodhouse was sitting he stalked and held out his right hand stiffly.