A word from him proved sufficient to secure the admission of his moving-picture experts; nevertheless, the three gazed at one another uneasily as they stood within the room. “What is it, Mr. Edestone?” Black’s eyes rounded up. “They haven’t placed you under arrest, have they?” Edestone shook his head. “Apparently not. At least they tell me I am under no restraint, and, as they might say to a little boy about to be spanked, that this is all for my own good. Whether or not this is merely a polite subterfuge, and they intend to postpone my departure from London from time to time in a way that can give no offence to our Government, yet would spoil all my plans, I am still uncertain.” “By Jove, it might be worth while trying to find out,” flared up Stanton, bristling at the very suggestion of an indignity to his adored chief. “If they’ve got anything of that kind up their sleeves, we could soon show them that----” “No.” Edestone spoke up a trifle sharply. “I have decided to let the situation develop itself.” His manner indicated that he wished the subject dropped; but, after he had given the two men the orders for which he had summoned them, and dismissed them, he fell into a rather perturbed reverie. After all, might it not be well, as Stanton had urged, to assure himself in regard to John Bull’s honourable intentions? His mind reverted to an expedient which he had already considered and cast aside. It was to communicate with the American Ambassador, get his passports, and start for Paris at once. Then, if he were halted, the purpose of the British Government would be made plain and its hypocrisy exposed. But, to tell the truth, he rather shrank from such a revelation. Suppose he forced their hand in this way, and they should retaliate, either by attempting to detain him in England, or insisting upon his return to his own country? Was he prepared to----? As Underhill had said, blood is thicker than water; and there were in his nature many ties that bound him to the mother-country. No, he concluded; if there was cause to worry, he would meet the emergency when it arose. Anyhow, he was not of the worrying kind. He threw himself down upon the sofa, since even for him it had been a rather strenuous day, and soon was fast asleep. He was awakened by James. “It is 7:30, sir, and you are dining at 8 o’clock.” Then with a perfectly stolid face: “I beg pardon, sir, what clothes will you take to the Tower, sir? The hall porter says, sir, that with all these soldiers around, they are certainly going to stand you up before a firing squad. And Hottenroth, the barber, says as how every American that comes to London is more or less a German spy. But he is a kind of a foreigner himself, sir. A Welshman, he says he is, and he talks in a very funny way.”