"I shouldn't advise a sea voyage just now, Nora," he said. "It isn't exactly a picnic, nowadays. Besides, if you come on the _City of Boston_ there will be more than one danger to be faced." "Danger!" she exclaimed contemptuously. "Have I ever shown myself afraid? Have we any of us--my brother or father or I--hesitated to run any possible risk when it was worth while? This house has been yours, and we in it, to do what you will with. It isn't a matter of danger--you know that. I come or go as you bid me." He met the fierce enquiry of her eyes without flinching. Only his tone was a little kinder as he answered her. "I think, Nora," he said, "that you had better stay." There was a timid but persistent knocking at the door, and, in response to Nora's invitation, a fat and bloated man entered the room hurriedly. He sank into a chair and mopped the perspiration from his forehead. Jocelyn Thew watched him with an air of contemptuous amusement. "You seem distressed, Rentoul," he remarked. "Has anything gone wrong?" "But it is terrible, this!" the newcomer declared. "Anything gone wrong, indeed! Listen. The police have made themselves free of my house. My beautiful wireless--it was only a hobby--it has gone! They open my letters. They will ruin me. Never did I think that this would arrive! There has been some terrible bungling!" "And you," Jocelyn Thew retorted, "seem to have been the arch bungler." "I? But what have I done?" Rentoul demanded, wringing his hands. "I have always obeyed orders. Even a hint has been enough. I have spent a great deal of money--much more than I could afford. What have I done wrong?" "You have talked too much, for one thing," was the cold reply, "but we haven't time for recriminations now. How did you get here?" "I came in my car. You will perhaps say that it was not wise, but I could not have stood the subway. My nerves are all rotten." Jocelyn Thew's tone and gesture were smoothly disdainful. "You are quite right," he agreed. "You have lost what you call your nerve. You had better send for the newspaper men, give them plenty of champagne, and explain what a loyal American citizen you are. Have you burnt everything?" "Every scrap of paper in the house which concerns a certain matter is burnt," Rentoul declared. "It would be!" "But I am in the right," the agitated man protested vigorously. "For five years we have worked and with good result. It is finished with us now for the present. There is no one who would dare to continue. Five long years, mind you, Mr. Jocelyn Thew. That is worth something, eh?" "Whatever it may be worth," was the somewhat grim reply, "will be decided within the next fortnight. That doesn't concern you, though." "You are not staying over here now that the war has come?"