Just before ten I entered Kirk's close little den. He was seated in his bead slippers and old velvet coat, while behind him stood the grey parrot, which screeched loudly as Miss Kirk opened the door to admit me. Seated opposite him, near the fire, was Leonard Langton, pale-faced and grave. "Ah, Holford!" cried Kirk, springing from his chair, sharp-eyed and alert. "I called on you some time ago. I wanted to--to make an announcement to you," he added, with a slight catch in his voice, I thought. "Of what?" He took from his table a long telegram. I recognised that it was from the Continent by the fact that it was on green "tape" pasted upon a form. Attached to it was a square, dark red label, bearing the words, "Government telegram: with priority." "Read that!" he said simply. CHAPTER THIRTY TWO. THE PROBLEM SOLVED. I scanned it through--then held my breath. It was from Angouleme, in Central France, and signed by somebody named Croxton, evidently a person in the secret employ of our Government. The telegram was a jumble of cipher figures and letters, but above, written in ink, were their equivalents in plain English. The message read: "Details are as follow: Professor Greer left Paris by the `Rapide' at 9:29 last night for Bordeaux. He occupied a first-class compartment alone, and at Poitiers was seen by the _chef du train_ asleep. Soon after passing Moussac, towards Angouleme, two men in the adjoining compartment were startled at hearing three pistol shots in rapid succession. They looked out, and saw a man open the carriage door and leap from the train. The train was stopped by pulling the communication-cord, whereon the Professor was found dead on the floor of the carriage. His assailant had evidently entered the carriage at Ruffec, the junction for La Rochelle. The passengers instituted a search back along the line towards Moussac, where they found the murderer lying in a ditch with his neck broken. Both bodies have been brought here to Angouleme, and by papers upon the assassin he has been identified as a German named Henke, lately living at Hillside Cottage, Epping. Have had the body photographed, and sending you print for identification. Am making arrangements for sending the late Professor's body to London. Wire further instructions." "What does this mean?" I gasped. "We know the man Henke," Kirk replied. "He was a German secret agent, who has lately been engaged with a number of others in making a complete survey north of London. He was brother-in-law to Leftwich. It was he who entered the house in Sussex Place to make certain that his relative was dead, and who, on finding Ethelwynn there, attacked her so savagely, believing he had killed her. Finding that he had not, he evidently followed the Professor, and, alas! avenged Leftwich's death." "Then the poor Professor is dead?" I said, amazed.