"Milburgh!" smiled the other mockingly. "I am sorry to interrupt this beautiful scene, but the occasion is a desperate one and I cannot afford to stand on ceremony, Mr. Tarling." Tarling put the girl from him and looked at the smirking manager. One comprehensive glance the detective gave him, noted the cycling clips and the splashes of mud on his trousers, and understood. "So you were the cyclist, eh?" he said. "That's right," said Milburgh, "it is an exercise to which I am very partial." "What do you want?" asked Tarling, alert and watchful. "I want you to carry out your promise, Mr. Tarling," said Milburgh smoothly. Tarling stared at him. "My promise," he said, "what promise?" "To protect, not only the evil-doer, but those who have compromised themselves in an effort to shield the evil-doer from his or her own wicked act." Tarling started. "Do you mean to say----" he said hoarsely. "Do you mean to accuse----?" "I accuse nobody," said Milburgh with a wide sweep of his hands. "I merely suggest that both Miss Rider and myself are in very serious trouble and that you have it in your power to get us safely out of this country to one where extradition laws cannot follow." Tarling took one step towards him and Milburgh shrank back. "Do you accuse Miss Rider of complicity in this murder?" he demanded. Milburgh smiled, but it was an uneasy smile. "I make no accusation," he said, "and as to the murder?" he shrugged his shoulders. "You will understand better when you read the contents of that wallet which I was endeavouring to remove to a place of safety." Tarling picked up the wallet from the table and looked at it. "I shall see the contents of this wallet to-morrow," he said. "Locks will present very little difficulty--" "You can read the contents to-night," said Milburgh smoothly, and pulled from his pocket a chain, at the end of which dangled a small bunch of keys. "Here is the key," he said. "Unlock and read to-night." Tarling took the key in his hand, inserted it in first one tiny lock and then in the other. The catches snapped open and he threw back the flap. Then a hand snatched the portfolio from him and he turned to see the girl's quivering face and read the terror in her eyes. "No, no!" she cried, almost beside herself, "no, for God's sake, no!" Tarling stepped back. He saw the malicious little smile on Milburgh's face and could have struck him down. "Miss Rider does not wish me to see what is in this case," he said. "And for an excellent reason," sneered Milburgh. "Here!" It was the girl's voice, surprisingly clear and steady. Her shaking hands held the paper she had taken from the wallet and she thrust it toward the detective. "There is a reason," she said in a low voice. "But it is not the reason you suggest." Milburgh had gone too far. Tarling saw his face lengthen and the look of apprehension in his cold blue eyes. Then, without further hesitation, he opened the paper and read.