"I should be the last to dispute it," said Foyle, with a slight bow, "or to take advantage of the good-nature that has led you to assist us hitherto. Of course you could not foresee that Grell would come to you, and you naturally do not want to take advantage of his confidence. But we already know of his visit, so there is no breach of trust there. All I ask is that you should simplify the matter by telling me what occurred at your interview. Perhaps you have forgotten, Sir Ralph, that there is a punishment for assisting a man to escape--by lending him money or otherwise. That is merely for information. It is not a threat." "Thank you," said the other. "It would make no difference to me whether it was a threat or not." He remained in thought for a moment. The fact that Grell had entered the place and apparently got clear away had led him to believe that the police knew nothing of the visit, that the only risk of the interview being disclosed lay with Roberts. If the detectives had really been close on the heels of the fugitive, as Foyle said, it could do no harm to admit the truth. His promise to say nothing could hardly be considered to cover the contingency. "Has Roberts been talking to you?" he asked abruptly. "Roberts?" repeated the superintendent, with a puzzled frown. "Oh, of course, he's your servant. I asked him one or two questions, but he didn't seem to understand me." The answer was so quick, so naturally given, that any suspicion that remained in Fairfield's mind was lulled. He shrugged his shoulders. "Well, for what it is worth, I don't mind admitting that Grell did come to see me. All he wanted was money. He is frightfully hard up, and apparently the operations of your people have harassed him dreadfully." "Did you let him have any money?" Fairfield shook his head. "No; I absolutely refused unless he would come out of concealment and try to justify himself. With that he went. He was here less than twenty minutes or half an hour." The detective played with his watch-chain. "Yes, yes. I don't see that you could have done anything else. I suppose you made no suggestion to him?" "In what way?" Gently stroking his chin, Foyle answered in a soft voice, "The other day a man came to see me. He was a man of high social standing and had fallen into the clutches of a gang of blackmailers. He wanted us to take action, but he absolutely refused to go into the witness-box to give evidence. I pressed him, pointing out that that was the only way in which we could bring home anything against them. 'It will ruin me,' he declared. 'Is there no other way it can be put a stop to?' I replied that we were helpless. 'What can I do?' he cried. 'Is the thing they accuse you of true?' I asked. He flushed and admitted that it was. 'Well,' I said, 'if you ask my advice as a man and not as an official, I should meet with an accident.' But he would not take my advice," he concluded, with a keen glance at the baronet, on whom the parable was not lost.