Sir Lyster seemed temporarily to have lost the power of speech. He gazed at Quinton as if hypnotised by the inequality of his complexion. When he expectorated Sir Lyster's eyes wandered from Spotty to the fireplace, as if to assure himself that a bull had really been registered. At last by an obvious effort he turned to John Dene. "I congratulate you upon your escape," he said, "but I thought you were too ill to----" "My escape!" replied John Dene. "Yes, from that place--where was it, North?" He turned to Sir Bridgman. "Streatham." "Ah! yes, Streatham." "I've been up north sending Huns to merry hell, where I'd like to send the whole Admiralty outfit," was the uncompromising retort. "I've come into contact with some fools----" John Dene broke off. "Shutting up my offices," he muttered. "But----" began Sir Lyster, then paused. "I've been over to Chiswick and she's not there; flat's shut," continued John Dene. "Chiswick!" repeated Sir Lyster. "Whose flat?" "Mrs. West's, and you've shut my offices," he added, with the air of one unwilling to relinquish an obvious grievance. "But I understood that you had just been released from a house in Streatham," persisted Sir Lyster. "Well, there's a good many mutts in this place who've been released too soon. You're talking about Jim." "Jim!" repeated Sir Lyster, "Jim who?" "My brother. They were all after me good and hard, so Jim came along, and I just slipped up north with your man." "Then you were the fellow with red hair all over him," laughed Sir Bridgman. "Sure," was the laconic reply. "They were out for me," he continued a moment later, "and I'd never have got away. Jim didn't mind." "But where is he now?" asked Sir Lyster. "He's probably the John Dene that they think was released from that place in Streatham," suggested Sir Bridgman. "Jim's all right," said John Dene, "but where's Miss West and my keys?" At that moment the telephone bell rang. Sir Lyster lifted the receiver from the rest and listened. "Yes, that's all right, thank you, Blair," he said; then turning to John Dene he added, "Mr. Blair has your keys and he also has Miss West's address at Bournemouth." "Here, come on, Jasp.," cried John Dene, just as Spotty was in the act of letting fly at the fireplace for the sixth time. He turned a reproachful gaze upon his chief. "But the _Destroyer_?" broke in Admiral Bridgman. "She has been doing her bit," said John Dene grimly. "She's refitting now. I'm off to Bournemouth, and Spotty's going north to-night with some indents." "Mr. Dene," began Sir Lyster in his most impressive manner, "your patriotism has---- "Here, forget it," and with that John Dene was gone, followed by his lieutenant, leaving Sir Lyster, Sir Bridgman and Admiral Heyworth gazing at the door that closed behind him.