"My dear, I am serving myself," he said, "just as much as I am serving you. Don't you understand that? Have you forgotten our walk under the elms in Lady Millingham's garden? If Tony returned, and returned in time, why, then you might lay your finger on the turnpike gate and let it swing open of its own accord. I remember what you said. Tony's return helps me, so I help myself in securing his return." Pamela's face softened into a smile. "Then you really do not mind going?" she went on. "I am remorseful, in a way, because I asked you to go once before in this very room, and nothing came of all your trouble. I want you to believe now that I could not ask you again to undergo the same trouble, or even more, as it may prove, were not the need ever so much more urgent than it was then." "I am sorry to hear that the need is more urgent," Warrisden replied; "but, on the other hand, the trouble I shall have to bear is much less, for I know where Stretton is." Pamela felt that half of the load of anxiety was taken from her shoulders. "You do?" she exclaimed. Warrisden nodded. "And what he is doing. He is serving with the Foreign Legion in Algeria. I thought you might want to lay your hands on him again, and I wished to be ready. Chance gave me a clue--an envelope with a postmark. I followed up the clue by securing an example of Stretton's handwriting. It was the same handwriting as that which directed the envelope, so I was sure." "Thank you," said Pamela. "Indeed, you do not fail me;" and her voice was musical with gratitude. "He was at Ain-Sefra, a little town on the frontier of Algeria," Warrisden resumed. And Pamela interrupted him-- "Then I need not make so heavy a demand upon you after all," she said. "It was only a letter which I was going to ask you to carry to Tony. Now there is no necessity that yon should go at all, for I can post it." She produced the letter from a pocket of her coat as she spoke. "Ah, but will it reach Stretton if you do?" said Warrisden. Pamela had already seated herself at the table, and was drawing the inkstand towards her. She paused at Warrisden's question, and looked up. "Surely Ain-Sefra, Algeria, will find him?" "Will it?" Warrisden repeated. He sat down at the table opposite to her. "Even if it does, will it reach him in time? You say the need is urgent. Well, it was last summer when I saw the postmark on the envelope, two days after we talked together in Lady Millingham's garden. I had business in London." "I remember," said Pamela. "My business was just to find out where Stretton was hiding himself. He was at Ain-Sefra then; he may be at Ain-Sefra now. But it is a small post, and he may not. The headquarters of the Legion are at Sidi Bel-Abbès, in the north. He may be there, or he may be altogether out of reach on some Saharan expedition."