Mr. Llewellyn John was obviously troubled. With the forefinger of his right hand he tapped the table meditatively as he gazed straight in front of him. The disappearance of John Dene was proving an even greater source of embarrassment to the War Cabinet than the internment of aliens. The member of parliament who translated his duty to his constituents into asking as many awkward questions as possible of the Government, found a rich source of inspiration in the affaire John Dene. Mr. Llewellyn John disliked questions; but never had he shown so whole-hearted an antipathy for interrogation as in the case of John Dene. The fact of the Home Secretary being responsible for the answers constituted an additional embarrassment, as Sir Roger Flynn was frankly critical of his chief in regard to the disappearance of John Dene. He had not been consulted in the matter of offering a reward, as he should have been, and he was piqued. His answers to the questions that seemed to rain down upon him from all parts of the House were given in anything but a conciliatory tone, and the method he adopted of "dispatching them in batches like rebels," as Mr. Chappeldale put it, still further alienated from the Government the sympathy of the more independent members. In this Mr. Llewellyn John saw a smouldering menace that might at any time burst into flame. He had come to wish with deep-rooted earnestness that Sir Roger Flynn would take a holiday. He had even gone to the length of suggesting that the Home Secretary was not looking altogether himself; but Sir Roger had not risen to the bait. "Ah! here you are," cried Mr. Llewellyn John with a smile, that in no way mirrored the state of his feelings, as Sir Roger entered, and with a nod dropped into a chair. "Eight more questions on the paper," he said grimly. "I suppose you appreciate the seriousness of it all." "What would you suggest doing?" enquired Mr. Llewellyn John tactfully. "Get a new lock for the stable door now the horse is gone," was the uncompromising retort. "I've asked Colonel Walton to step round," said Mr. Llewellyn John, ignoring his colleague's remark. "It's all that fellow Sage," grumbled Sir Roger. "I went round to see him yesterday, and he was as urbane as a money-lender." "But surely you wouldn't quarrel----" "I always quarrel with a fool who doesn't see the consequences likely to arise out of his folly," said Sir Roger. "If he would only play golf," murmured Mr. Llewellyn John plaintively. "He'd resign at the first green because someone had shouted 'fore.' The man's a freak!" Sir Roger was very downright this morning. "I wish we had a few more of the same sort," was Mr. Llewellyn John's smiling rejoinder. Sir Roger grumbled something in his throat. Malcolm Sage was too often in antagonism with his Department for the Home Secretary to contemplate with anything but alarm a multiplicity of Sages.