Endor, against his private judgment and the will of Helen, accompanied her to Covent Garden. She was sure that after such a day he ought to go straight to bed. Curiously temperamental, she knew him to be, but never had she seen him so completely “bowled out.” Like all people who live on their nerves, he was poised on a very fine thread; yet this threat of collapse was hardly justified by the thing that had occurred. He saw in it more than the facts seemed on the surface to warrant. She, on the contrary, was sure that a word from the Chief would put the whole thing right. It was ten o’clock when they reached Covent Garden. Helen, by dint of tact amounting to diplomacy which she brought to bear on divers officials, was able at last to send one of them with an urgent message to Mr. Hartz’s box. Soon, however, the answer came that Mr. Hartz was not there, and that to the best of the messenger’s information he had not been there that evening. A rebuff, for which Helen was half prepared, left her undaunted. They turned down the street to Universe Lane, on the off-chance that the _Mercury_ might be able to throw light on the whereabouts of the great man. This the _Mercury_ could not do; nor was the Office itself in the adjacent Cosmos Alley able to provide a clue to the movements of the august controller of the U. P. “We’ll now draw his clubs,” said Helen, undefeatedly. “He may be at the Game in Piccadilly playing bridge. Or he may be in Pall Mall smoking a quiet cigar at the Imperium.” Both, alas! were drawn blank. The Colossus was not nor had been that evening at either. “Dead out of luck, aren’t we?” said Helen. “It’s very vexing.” One other course only occurred to her now. That was to go on to Carlton House Terrace, and if Mr. Hartz had not returned home to await his arrival. They went there accordingly only to learn that he had not yet come in; moreover, so uncertain, as a rule, were his nocturnal movements that the butler did not care to commit himself as to the hour his master was likely to do so. “May be here any moment, miss, or he may even not be here at----” The butler’s discretion did not allow him to complete his sentence. “Well, I’ll wait for him,” said Helen, with an air of quiet decision, “for an hour, at any rate.” She glanced at a watch on her wrist. “Nearly eleven already.” She went down the steps to the taxi and John Endor. To him she made her intention known. “And you,” she said, “must go straight home to bed. You are fagged out. Now mind you don’t worry about this. A word from the Chief will clear up everything. Forget it all. Promise me you will. And for my part I promise that it shall be put right. Good-night.” “But how will you get home?” “My tube to South Kensington runs till one o’clock. And I’m quite used to being out late. Good-night.” “Darling!” he whispered, hoarsely. “You darling!” She stood a moment by the curb to watch him drive away. VII