“From what source did you get your information which saved us all?” “It came to me from a man who is dead,” was the quiet answer. The Bishop looked steadily ahead at the row of signal lights. “There was a young foreigner, some weeks ago,” he said “a Baron Hellman--quite a distinguished person, I believe--who was discovered shot in his rooms.” She acquiesced silently. “If you were to go to the Home Office and were able to persuade them to treat you candidly, I think that you could discover some wonderful things,” she confided. “I wish I could believe that the Baron was the only one who has been living in this country, unsuspected, and occupying a prominent position, who was really in the pay of Germany.” “It was a very subtle conspiracy,” the Bishop remarked thoughtfully, “subtle because, in a sense, it appeared so genuine. It appealed to the very best instincts of thinking men.” “Good has come out of it, at any rate,” she reminded him. “Westminster Buildings is now the centre of patriotic England. Labour was to have brought the war to an end--for Germany. It is Labour which is going to win the victory--for England.” The train rolled into the station and rapidly disgorged its crowd of passengers, amongst whom Julian was one of the first to alight. Catherine found herself trembling. The shy words of welcome which had formed themselves in her mind died away on her lips as their glances met. She lifted her face to his. “Julian,” she murmured, “I am so proud--so happy.” The Bishop left them as they stepped into their cab. “I am going to a mission room in the neighbourhood,” he explained. “We have war talks every week. I try to tell them how things are going on, and we have a short service. But before I go, Mr. Stenson has sent you a little message, Julian. If you go to your club later on to-night, you will see it in the telegrams, or you will find it in your newspapers in the morning. There has been wonderful fighting in Flanders to-day. The German line has been broken at half a dozen points. We have taken nearly twenty thousand prisoners, and Zeebrugge is threatened. Farther south, the Americans have made their start and have won a complete victory over the Crown Prince’s picked troops.” The two men wrung hands. “This,” Julian declared, “is the only way to Peace.” End of Project Gutenberg’s The Devil’s Paw, by E. Phillips Oppenheim