“So, you see, it all comes back again to Renata. Have you done your thinking, Henry?” “Yes,” said Henry. He drew a chair to the table and sat down half turned to the fire—half turned to Jane. Sometimes he looked at her, but oftener his gaze dwelt intently on the rise and fall of the flames. “What makes you think that your cousin is to be taken to Luttrell Marches? Did these people tell her so?” “No,” said Jane—“of course not. As far as I can make out from Arnold Todhunter, Renata is locked in her room, but there’s another key and she can get in and out. She can move about inside the flat, but she can’t get out of it. Well, one night she crept out and listened, though you would have thought she had had enough of listening, and she heard them say that, as soon as her father was out of the way, they would send her to Luttrell Marches and let ‘Number One’ decide whether she was to be ‘eliminated.’ Since then she’s been nearly off her head with terror, poor kid. Now, Henry, it’s your turn. What about Luttrell Marches?” Henry’s face seemed to have grown rigid. “It’s impossible,” he said in a low voice. The clock above them struck ten, and he waited till the last stroke had died away. “I don’t know quite what to say to you, but whatever I say is confidential. You’ve heard my mother talk of the Luttrells, and you may or may not know that my uncle died a year ago. You have also probably heard that his son, my Cousin Anthony, disappeared into the blue in 1915.” “Then Luttrell Marches belongs to you?” For the life of her, Jane could not keep a little consternation out of her voice. “No. If Tony had been missing for seven years, I could apply for leave to presume his death, but there’s another year to run. My mother—every one—supposes that I am only waiting until the time is up. As a matter of fact—Jane, I’m telling you what I haven’t told my mother—Anthony Luttrell is alive.” “Where?” “I can’t tell you. And you must please forget what I have told you—unless——” “Unless?” “Unless you have to remember it,” said Henry in an odd voice. “For the rest, Luttrell Marches was let during my uncle’s lifetime to Sir William Carr-Magnus. You know who I mean?” “_The_ Sir William Carr-Magnus?” said Jane, and Henry nodded. Jane felt absolutely dazed. Sir William Carr-Magnus, the great chemist, great philanthropist, and Government expert! “He is engaged,” said Henry, “on a series of most important investigations and experiments which he is conducting on behalf of the Government. The extreme seclusion of Luttrell Marches, and the lonely country all round are, of course, exactly what is required under the circumstances.” Quite suddenly Jane began to laugh.