"Curious! Very curious!" he remarked as he listened to her. "That anonymous letter you brought this morning I have already taken to Whitehall. The whole affair seems a complete mystery, Miss Shearman. No doubt the charge against young Sainsbury is a very serious one, but that you should have been given warning is most strange. Since I saw you this morning I've had a visit from Mr Trustram, whom I called up on the 'phone, and we have had a long consultation." "What is your opinion?" she asked breathlessly. "Will you forgive me, Miss Shearman if, for the present, I refrain from answering that question?" asked the great doctor, with a smile. He was sitting at his table with one elbow resting upon it and half turned towards her, as was his habit when diagnosing a case. The room was small, old-fashioned, and depressingly sombre in the gloom of the wintry afternoon. "But do you think Jack will ever clear himself of these horrible charges?" she asked, pale and anxious. "I hope so. But at present I can give no definite opinion." "But if he can't, he'll go to penal servitude!" cried the girl. "Ah! how I have suffered since his arrest! Father will hear no word in his favour. He daily tells me that Jack is a spy of Germany, and as such deserves full punishment." "Mr Trustram has found out from the War Office that his trial by court-martial begins at the Old Bailey to-morrow." "Yes, I know. Mr Pelham, his counsel, called on me just after lunch, and told me so," said the girl tearfully. "But oh! he seemed so hopeless of the result. The prosecution, he said, would bring forward the most damning evidence against him. Can it be true, Sir Houston? Do you really think it is true?" "No, I don't," was the prompt, straightforward answer. "Nothing will ever cause me to suspect Sainsbury to be guilty of espionage. He's far too good an Englishman to accept German gold." "Then you believe him to be innocent!" cried the girl, her fair countenance brightening with a ray of hope. "Yes, I do. He's the victim of some dastardly plot. That's my firm belief. And yet it is so strange that his friend Jerrold committed suicide." "But was Dr Jerrold a spy? That is the question!" "It seems quite true that a warrant had been issued for his arrest upon a charge of war-treason," Sir Houston replied. "Why didn't he try and face it?" The girl, pale and agitated, sat in silence, her gloved hands lying idly on her lap before her. Those awful weeks of anxiety had left traces upon her face, now thin and worn. And she felt that her lover's fate was sealed unless he could clear himself. In desperation she had sought the great doctor, and he had been most thoughtful and sympathetic.