“Mr. Amber,” he said, “I have been sent down from the Home Office on a curious mission--I understand you are tired of prison?” “My Fells,” said Amber wearily, “I have never found prison so dull as I do at present.” Fells smiled. From his pocket he produced a sheet of foolscap paper closely covered with entries. “I’ve discovered your guilty secret.” He shook the paper before the prisoner’s eyes. “A list of your convictions, my Amber,” he mocked, but Amber said nothing. “Never, so far as I can trace, have you appeared before a judge and jury.” He looked up, but the man in front of him was silent, and his face was expressionless. “And yet,” the detective went on, “to my knowledge, you have been committed to seventeen gaols, on seventeen distinct and separate orders, each signed by a judge and countersigned by the Home Office....” He waited, but Amber offered no comment. “In 1901, you were committed to Chengford Gaol on an order signed at Devizes. I can find no record of your having been brought before a court of any description at Devizes.” Still Amber did not speak, and the inspector went on slowly and deliberately. “At the time of your committal to Chengford, there had been all sorts of stories current about the state of affairs in the gaol. There had been a mutiny of prisoners, and allegations of cruelty against the governor and the warders.” “I remember something about it,” said Amber carelessly. “You were admitted on May 10. On August 1 you were released on an order from the Home Office. On August 3 the governor, the assistant governor and the chief warder were summarily suspended from their duties and were eventually dismissed from the prison service.” He looked at Amber again. “You surprise me,” said Amber. “Although you were released in August, and was apparently a free man, you arrived in the custody of warders at the Preston Convict Establishment on September 9. There had been some trouble at Preston, I believe.” “I believe there was,” said Amber gravely. “This time,” the detective continued, “it was on an order from the Home Office ‘to complete sentence.’ You were six months in Preston Prison, and after you left, three warders were suspended for carrying messages to prisoners.” He ran his fingers down the paper. “You weren’t exactly a mascot to these gaols, Mr. Amber,” he said ironically, “you left behind you a trail of casualties--and nobody seems to have connected your presence with gaps in the ranks.” A slow smile dawned on Amber’s face. “And has my chief inspector come amblin’ all the way from London to make these startlin’ and mysterious communications?” The detective dropped his banter. “Not exactly, Mr. Amber,” he said, and the note of respect came to his voice which had so unaccountably irritated the governor. “The fact is, you’ve been lent.” “Lent?” Amber’s eyebrows rose.