"What a lover!" he said, "and how reluctant to accept his dismissal! It may ease your mind to know that Miss Cresswell, whom I hope very soon to call Mrs. van Heerden, is perfectly happy, and is very annoyed at your persistence. I had a telegram from her this morning, begging me to come to Liverpool at the earliest opportunity." "That's a lie," said Beale quietly, "but one lie more or less, I suppose, doesn't count." "A thoroughly immoral view to take," said the doctor with much severity, "but I see there is nothing to be gained by arguing with you, and I can only make one request." Beale said nothing but stood waiting. "It is this," said the doctor, choosing his words with great care: "that you call off the gentleman who has been dogging my footsteps to-day. It was amusing at first but now it is becoming annoying. Some of my patients have complained of this man watching their houses." "You've not seen a patient to-day, van Heerden," said Beale, "and, anyway, I guess you had better get used to being shadowed. It isn't your first experience." The doctor looked at him under lowered lids and smiled again. "I could save your man a great deal of trouble," he said, "and myself considerable exertion by giving him a list of the places where I intend calling." "He will find that out for himself," said Beale. "I wish him greater success than he has had," replied the other, and passed on, descending the stairs slowly. Beale went back to his flat, passed to his bedroom and looked down into the street. He made a signal to a man at the corner and received an almost imperceptible answer. Then he returned to the two men. "This fellow is too clever for us, I am afraid, and London with its tubes, its underground stations and taxi-cabs is a pretty difficult proposition." "I suppose your man lost him in the tube," said McNorton. "There are two ways down, the elevator and the stairs, and it is mighty difficult to follow a man unless you know which way he is going." "But you were interrupted at an interesting moment. What are you going to tell us about the Green Rust?" "I can only tell you this," said Beale, "that the Green Rust is the greatest conspiracy against the civilized world that has ever been hatched." He looked sharply at Homo. "Don't look at me," said the Parson, "I know nothing about it, unless----" He stopped and frowned. "The Green Rust," he repeated, "is that old man Heyler's secret?" "He's in it," said Beale shortly. "Is it a swindle of some kind?" asked the Parson curiously. "It never struck me that Heyler was that kind of man." "There is no swindle in it so far as Heyler's concerned," said Beale, "it is something bigger than a swindle." A telephone bell rang and he took up the receiver and listened, only interjecting a query or two. Then he hung up the instrument.