She glanced towards the doctor. He nodded his head slightly. Then she went up to her husband and laid her hand upon his shoulders. "Horace, you are right," she said. "It is no use trying to keep it from you. A man did impose upon us with a forged letter. He could not have been here more than five minutes, though. We found him out almost at once. It shall never happen again!" The wisdom of telling him was at once apparent. His face positively shone with triumph! He became quite calm, and the fierce glare, which had alarmed them all so much, died out of his eyes. The confession was a triumph for him. He was gratified. "I knew it," he declared, with positive good humour. "I have warned you of this all the time. Now perhaps you will believe me! Thank God that it was not Duchesne himself. I should not be surprised, though, if it were not one of his emissaries! If Duchesne comes," he muttered to himself, his face growing a shade paler, "God help us!" "We will be more careful now," Lady Deringham said. "No one shall ever take us by surprise again. We will have special watchmen, and bars on all the windows." "From this moment," the admiral said slowly, "I shall never leave this room until my work is ended, and handed over to Lord S----'s care. If I am robbed England is in danger! There must be no risks. I will have a sofa-bedstead down, and please understand that all my meals must be served here! Heggs and Morton must take it in turns to sleep in the room, and there must be a watchman outside. Now will you please all go away?" he added, with a little wave of his hand. "I have to reconstruct what has been stolen from me through your indiscretion. Send me in some coffee at eleven o'clock, and a box of cartridges you will find in my dressing-room." They went away together. Wolfenden was grave and mystified. Nothing about his father's demeanour or language had suggested insanity. What if they were all wrong--if the work to which the best years of his life had gone was really of the immense importance he claimed for it? Other people thought so! The slight childishness, which was obvious in a great many of his actions, was a very different thing from insanity. Blatherwick might be deceived--Blanche was just as likely to have looked upon any technical work as rubbish. Whitlett was only a country practitioner--even his mother might have exaggerated his undoubted eccentricities. At any rate, one thing was certain. There were people outside who made a bold enough bid to secure the fruit of his father's labours. It was his duty to see that the attempt, if repeated, was still unsuccessful. CHAPTER XVII THE SCHEMING OF GIANTS