It was barely eleven o'clock when Bernadine reached the west-end of London. His clothes had become a trifle disarranged, and he called for a few minutes at his rooms in St. James's Street. Afterwards, he walked to Merton House and rang the bell. To the servant who answered it he handed his master's card. "Will you show me the way to the library?" he asked. "I have some papers to collect for the Baron de Grost." The man hesitated. Even with the card in his hand, it seemed a somewhat unusual proceeding. "Will you step inside, sir?" he begged. "I should like to show this to the Baroness. The master is exceedingly particular about anyone entering his study." "Do what you like so long as you do not keep me waiting," Bernadine replied. "Your master's instructions are clear enough." Violet came down the great staircase a few moments later, still in her dinner-gown, her face a little pale, her eyes luminous. Bernadine smiled as he accepted her eagerly offered hand. She was evidently anxious. A thrill of triumph warmed his blood. Once she had been less kind to him than she seemed now. "My husband gave you this!" she exclaimed. "A few minutes ago," Bernadine answered. "He tried to make his instructions as clear as possible. We are jointly interested in a small matter which needs immediate action." She led the way to the study. "It seems strange," she remarked, "that you and he should be working together. I thought that you were on opposite sides." "It is a matter of chance," Bernadine told her. "Your husband is a wise man, Baroness. He knows when to listen to reason." She threw open the door of the study, which was in darkness. "If you will wait a moment," she said, closing the door, "I will turn on the electric light." She touched the knobs in the wall, and the room was suddenly flooded with illumination. At the further end of the apartment was the great safe. Close to it, in an easy-chair, his evening coat changed for a smoking-jacket, with a neatly tied black tie replacing his crumpled white cravat, the Baron de Grost sat awaiting his guest. A fierce oath broke from Bernadine's lips. He turned toward the door only in time to hear the key turn. Violet tossed it lightly in the air across to her husband. "My dear Bernadine," the latter remarked, "on the whole, I do not think that this has been one of your successes. My keys, if you please." Bernadine stood for a moment, his face dark with passion. "Your keys are here, Baron de Grost," he said, placing them upon the table. "If a bungling amateur may make such a request of a professor, may I inquire how you escaped from your bonds and reached here before me?" The Baron de Grost smiled.