Granet for a moment forgot himself. His eyes flashed. He was half angry, half terrified. “What do you mean?” he demanded. Thomson made no immediate answer. He seemed to be pondering over his words, his expression was inscrutable. Geraldine looked from one to the other. “There is something between you two which I don’t understand,” she declared. “There is a very great deal about Captain Granet which I am only just beginning to understand,” Thomson said calmly. “You should find his solicitude about your movements this evening a great compliment, Geraldine. It arises entirely from his desire to spare you the shock of what may turn out yet to be a very lamentable catastrophe.” “You two men are quite incomprehensible,” Geraldine sighed. “If only either of you would speak plainly!” Thomson bowed. “Perhaps I may be able to indulge you presently,” he observed. “Since you have failed to persuade Miss Conyers to leave London, Captain Granet,” he went on, turning towards the latter, “may I ask what your own movements are likely to be?” “You may not,” was the passionate reply. “They are no concern of yours.” “They are unfortunately,” Thomson retorted, “my very intimate concern. This, you will remember, is your ninth day of grace. It is not my desire that you should suffer unduly for your humane visit here, but I might remind you that under the circumstances it is a little compromising. No, don’t interrupt me! We understand one another, I am quite sure.” Granet had taken a step backwards. His face for a moment was blanched, his lips opened but closed again without speech. Thomson was watching him closely. “Precisely,” he went on. “You have guessed the truth, I can see. We have been able, within the last few hours, to decode that very interesting message which reached your uncle some little time ago.” Geraldine’s bewilderment increased. Granet’s almost stupefied silence seemed to amaze her. “Hugh, what does it all mean?” she cried. “Is Captain Granet in trouble because he has come here to warn me of something? He has not said a word except to beg me to go down into the country tonight.” “And he as begged you to do that,” Thomson said, “because he is one of those privileged few who have been warned that to-night or to-morrow morning is the time selected for the Zeppelin raid on London of which we have heard so much. Oh! He knows all about it, and his uncle, and a great many of the guests they have gathered together. They’ll all be safe enough at Reigate! Come, Captain Granet, what have you to say about it?” Granet drew himself up. He looked every inch a soldier, and, curiously enough, he seemed in his bearing and attitude to be respecting the higher rank by virtue of which Thomson had spoken. “To-morrow, as you have reminded me, is my tenth day, sir,” he said. “I shall report myself at your office at nine o’clock. Good-bye, Miss Conyers! I hope that even though I have failed, Major Thomson may persuade you to change your mind.”