In the lobby below was a small cubby-hutch which served the porters as an office, and from beneath a stained blotting-pad he drew out two blue envelopes. The first Michael recognised as that which he had written himself; the second he tore open and read, and the detective-sergeant saw his face change. Thrusting the letter into his pocket, he turned to the frightened servant. “What else came for me to-day? Come, across with it, quick!” Without a word the man put his hand into the pocket of a jacket that was hanging against the wall and took out a telegram, which had obviously been opened and reclosed. Michael read it in a fury of anger. “Deal with this man,” he said and flew out of the hall, springing on the first empty taxi he saw. A run of ten minutes brought him to his garage. Almost before the cab could turn round, the long black car was running out of London in defiance of all speed regulations. Midnight was booming from Telsbury Parish Church when the car shot up to the entrance of the prison and Michael leapt out and pulled the bell. “The governor’s in bed, sir.” “I must see him at once. This is a matter of life and death. Take my card to him.” He thrust it through the bars of the grating and waited impatiently until he was admitted and conducted to the doctor’s house. The governor, in pyjamas and dressing-gown, was waiting for him in his small study. “Mrs. Pinder left at ten o’clock. Didn’t you send down for her?” “No, sir, I knew nothing whatever about the release. The letter from the Home Office giving me the information had been held up. Ten o’clock? Who called for her?” “I don’t know, I thought it was you. I saw the car and didn’t trouble to make enquiries.” “Do you know which way they went?” “They turned towards the London road. The car was a small saloon--a Buick, I think, with an enclosed drive. Hasn’t she turned up?” Michael shook his head. “No, she’s not in London.” There was no time to be lost. He got into his machine and flew back along the London road. At the junction of the Telsbury by-road was a filling station, and he knew that an attendant slept upon the premises. It was some time before he could get an answer to his knocking, and then he was rewarded with valuable information. “I saw the machine pass. It went south, towards Letchford.” “It didn’t take the London road?” “No, sir, it turned there.” He pointed. “I could see the rear light going up over the hill. It was just before I closed down for the night.”