“Anyway, I devoutly trust it’s all over now. The end has been accomplished, and the world will be the better for it in the end. Yet it has been at a fearful cost.” “Yes,” said Regnier, “but a single great war would have meant the death of many thousands more.” “One thing I should like to know,” said Tom reflectively, “How do you account for your loss of memory?” “I’m not sure,” answered Regnier, “but, if you remember, there was a paper published by some Germans a while ago, which discussed the properties of an anaesthetic which produced a loss of memory. It was one of the hydrocarbon compounds, and from the odor which came to me, I think my loss of memory may have come that way.” “That’s a possible solution,” said Tom. “At least it will do, unless we strike a better. But, confound it all, we haven’t got ‘the man’ who has been at the bottom of all this.” “Well, the search isn’t over yet,” interrupted Dorothy. “We can go on with it, now.” “We will go on with it,” I broke in. “But I think we can do it much better from New York for a while.” Tom laughed. “Yes,” he said. “There is no question that as long as Dorothy has made up her mind to be married in New York, New York is the one place from which to conduct the search for the present. Anyway, I’m not going to Tokio. I imagine ‘the man’ will come right back home now.” “The Denckel apparatus was the means that stopped ‘the man,’ after all,” I said musingly. “It has done so much, that I hope it will do the final thing of all, and discover ‘the man.’” Dorothy rose. “I hope it will,” she remarked. “But, anyway, we’ve sat long enough. Now the thing I want to know is what our host has to say of the way Dick came here.” That was the question of the next morning, but the innkeeper could tell us little. Regnier had arrived in the company of an Englishman who had paid his board for three months, had told them to take especial care of the patient, and had left a package for him. That was all he knew. Regnier seized the package given him, and opened it eagerly. Two inner envelopes came next, and from the innermost he drew a package of five pound notes. He counted them. “‘The man’ didn’t intend to have me starve,” he said. “Here’s two hundred pounds. He must have given them to me, for I didn’t have five pounds in my pocket that night.” When the messenger came from the city with the morning papers, we read them with avidity. ‘The man’ had kept his word. Every government had received a wireless message couched in practically the same words as that which he had sent us. The world might rest easy, as long as peace reigned. We met in the wireless room after breakfast. “May as well go to work taking this thing down,” said Tom. Our work at The Hague was over, and we hastened to pack our belongings and made ready to return to London by the Hook of Holland.