I got back safely to my apartment and turned up at ten o’clock at my office, very well pleased with my night’s work. At the office I found a messenger waiting for me. I recognized the man as the Herr Baron’s valet, a trustworthy Bavarian who had naturalized himself at the same time as my well-born patron. I opened the letter. It was from Baron von Hertz-Missenger. It read: “By this time you have probably understood the little riddle I set you. Don’t forget that it is of the utmost importance that certain things should be secured. I myself am working night and day _to obtain results_. _Leave no stone unturned._ If you fail notify me immediately. The Conference will last two more days. If you fail I am in a position to make the attempt myself.” I put the letter down with a smile. With what joy would the good Baron receive my news. If I failed; if I, Heine failed, the idea was amazing! I say here, before I proceed to the end of this incident, and I cannot give too great emphasis to my words, that it would be well if the Department in which I have the honour to serve--which is in other respects conducted with serious cleverness--implicitly trust the proved genius of their officers and would not allow amateurs, however distinguished, to interfere with the operations of regular departmental officers. I burnt the letter and sent the good baron’s servant on his way rejoicing with half-a-crown. It is always as well to keep the servants of the high-born in good temper and favourably inclined. Then I rang up Messrs. Hedley and Riddle. Yes, I had carefully noted the name of the house agents. I got them on the ’phone and asked to speak to the proprietor. “You have a house to let near the village of Leatham Priory,” I said. “Yes, sir,” he responded in the servile accent of an English house agent. “I would like to see the house. May I call to-day for the key?” “Which house is it?” he asked. Here again my forethought served me. “It is the house called ‘Fairlawn.’” “Certainly,” said the man, “my assistant has charge of this department. He is at lunch now, but when he comes in I will tell him to meet you at the station.” “Don’t trouble,” said I; “will you have the key ready for me? You will remember, it is ‘Fairlawn,’ and I want to have the first refusal, so do not let anybody else see the house until I come.” “Certainly not, sir,” said the servile hound. I hung up the receiver and rubbed my hands, and at that moment there came a knock at my door. I walked over to the door and opened it. An officer with the green tabs of the British Intelligence Department stood smiling on the mat and I recognized my treacherous “friend” of other days, Mister Haynes or rather Major Haynes. “Good morning, Major,” I said jovially, “have you come to ‘warn’ me again?” “Not a bit,” he said, walking inside and shaking hands, “I have just come to ask you if you know anything about the Baron von Hertz-Missenger.” I pricked up my ears.