"He is the man who has charge of all the big things. He goes abroad when one of the big city men bunk to South America. He generally works straight from the Home Office; he's the Government man. To tell the truth, I was surprised to meet _him_ in the Horsecloth. One of the others generally goes there. When _he_ began to talk, I knew that there was something important, more than usual." "He definitely said that he knew your--backers?" "Yes, he did; and what's more, gentlemen, he seemed to know too much altogether about the business. I don't pretend to understand it. _I_ don't know why a young parson and a press reporter are being looked after by Government as if they were continental sovereigns and the Anarchists were trying to get at them--no more than I know why two such gentlemen as you are wanting two smaller men put through it. But all's well that ends well. _I'm_ satisfied enough, and I'm extremely glad that I got this notice in time to stop it off. But whatever you do, gentlemen, give up any idea of doing those two any harm. You couldn't do it--couldn't get near them. Give it up, gentlemen. Somehow or other, they know all about it. Be careful. Now I'm off. Good-day, gentlemen. Look after yourselves. I fear there is trouble brewing somewhere, though it won't come through _me_. They can't _prove_ anything on our side." He went slowly out of the room, back into the darkness of the pit whence he came, to the dark which mercifully hides such as he from the gaze of dwellers under the heavens. Only the police of London know all about these men, and their imaginations are not, perhaps, strong enough to let the horror of contact remain with them. When he had gone, Llwellyn sank heavily into a chair. He covered his face with his hands and moaned. "Oh, fool that I was to try anything of the sort!" hissed Schuabe. "I might have known!" "What is the state of things, really, do you suppose?" said Llwellyn. "Imminent with doom for us!" Schuabe answered in a deep and melancholy voice. "It is all clear to me now. Your woman was set on to you by these men from the first. They are clever men. Michael Manichoe is behind them all. She got the story. Spence has been sent to verify it. He has got everything from Ionides. The Government has been told. These things have been going on during the last few hours. Spence has cabled something of his news, perhaps not all. He will be back to-day, this afternoon. He will have left Paris by now, and almost be nearing Amiens. In that train, Llwellyn, lies our death-warrant. Nothing can stop it. They will send the news all over the world to-night. It will be announced in London by dinner-time, probably."