Jefferies of the _Weekly Messenger_, of course. Jefferies was fond of a late chat on the telephone. Steel wondered grimly, if Jefferies would lend him L1,000. He flung himself down in a deep lounge-chair and placed the receiver to his ear. By the deep, hoarse clang of the wires, a long-distance message, assuredly. "From London, evidently. Halloa, London! Are you there?" London responded that it was. A clear, soft voice spoke at length. "Is that you, Mr. Steel? Are you quite alone? Under the circumstances you are not busy to-night?" Steel started. He had never heard the voice before. It was clear and soft and commanding, and yet there was just a suspicion of mocking irony in it. "I'm not very busy to-night," Steel replied. "Who is speaking to me?" "That for the present we need not go into," said the mocking voice. "As certain old-fashioned contemporaries of yours would say, 'We meet as strangers!' Stranger yet, you are quite alone!" "I am quite alone. Indeed, I am the only one up in the house." "Good. I have told the exchange people not to ring off till I have finished with you. One advantage of telephoning at this hour is that one is tolerably free from interruption. So your mother is asleep? Have you told her what is likely to happen to you before many hours have elapsed?" Steel made no reply for a moment. He was restless and ill at ease to-night, and it seemed just possible that his imagination was playing him strange tricks. But, no. The Moorish clock in its frame of celebrities droned the quarter after twelve; the scent of the Dijon roses floated in from the conservatory. "I have told nobody as yet," Steel said, hoarsely. "Who in the name of Heaven are you?" "That in good time. But I did not think you were a coward." "No man has ever told me so--face to face." "Good again. I recognise the fighting ring in your voice. If you lack certain phases of moral courage, you are a man of pluck and resource. Now, somebody who is very dear to me is at present in Brighton, not very far from your own house. She is in dire need of assistance. You also are in dire need of assistance. We can be of mutual advantage to one another." "What do you mean by that?" Steel whispered. "Let me put the matter on a business footing. I want you to help my friend, and in return I will help you. Bear in mind that I am asking you to do nothing wrong. If you will promise me to go to a certain address in Brighton to night and see my friend, I promise that before you sleep the sum of L1,000 in Bank of England notes shall be in your possession." No reply came from Steel. He could not have spoken at that moment for the fee-simple of Golconda. He could only hang gasping to the telephone. Many a strange and weird plot came and went in that versatile brain, but never one more wild than this. Apparently no reply was expected, for the speaker resumed:--