"THE FACT IS," Kindell said, as the maid withdrew, and Irene picked up the teapot, "you did more for us, when you saw Miss Blinkwell come out of the house, than all the detectives in London or Paris had been able to do for the two years that we've had the investigation in hand. It makes this difference, that we can be sure now, where we only suspected before. . . . But the question is, does it do more than that? It's not much use being certain of something you can't prove. And we've got to handle it now in such a way, if we can, that we pin something on to Blinkwell that he can't shake off."

"I can see now," the ambassador said, "that I made a mistake when I sent that false suitcase, though you were good enough to try to twist it another way. But I'll own that it never entered my mind that the message might not have come from you, and I wasn't willing to admit all the implications of that - not, at least, till you'd had a chance of clearing it up."

"I don't know," Kindell replied doubtfully, "whether it's going to turn out the right way or not. It depends, more or less, upon how quick they are in finding out what you had done, and how quick we can be now. And besides, if you'd let them have the right one, it might have disappeared beyond trace by now, and no, we can't say what would have happened if you'd done it another way."

"A good deal," Irene said, "must depend upon what they get out of Gustav in Paris."

"Yes. If anything. There's always the doubt in these cases whether it's better to pick the man up or let him run loose a bit longer without knowing he's being watched; but with what we've got to go on now, both in Paris and here, they may decide that the time for action has come. . . . We shall probably know a lot more when the telephone rings again."

As he said this, the bell rang, and he was soon hearing the voice of authority pronounce its verdict upon what had happened and suggesting - for it went beyond what could be ordered - what should now be done.

"Yes," he said at last, "we can try that. . . . If I don't call back, you'll understand that that's how it will be."

A moment later he hung up, and turned to his companions to say, "They want us to deliver the right valise, and say we made a mistake."

Mr. Thurlow showed no enthusiasm for this suggestion. He said: "I don t see how you can do that. . . . It's a bit late, anyway."

"We can't help that. We've got to act as fast as possible now. It's quite likely that the mistake hasn't been discovered. It all depends upon who had the right - and the key - to open it. You can be sure that it has a good lock. We shall find that out if we try to pick it. It's most likely that it would be necessary to break it open, and, if it's delivered intact, that may be taken as strong evidence that there's no suspicion of its contents.

"I suggest that whoever takes it explains that you took the label off while it was being passed through the Customs, and that it was then put back on the wrong case by a very easy mistake."

"That sounds all right," Irene agreed; "but it wouldn't explain why I drove away without delivering it."

"Probably not. But would explanation be necessary? You say Miss Blinkwell was leaving the house. We know she doesn't live there. She may not have gone back. Or she may not - - "

"It doesn't matter. I know what I shall say. I thought the delivery of it was a private matter, and I didn't know how much Miss Blinkwell was in your confidence, so I just drove on. It was just an impulse; silly, of course, but that's how it was."

"Alders," Mr. Thurlow said, "can be furnished with that explanation, but I suppose it to be unlikely that he will be asked to give it."

"But," Irene answered, "I shan't leave it to him. I shall go myself."

"I shall certainly not allow that." Her father's voice was definite. "Of course, if Will likes to do it - - "

"Unfortunately," Kindell answered, "I am explicitly forbidden to appear in the matter. They want Blinkwell to think that I'm being prosecuted in Paris, and that the police there are busy on the wrong scent. What we've found out now makes that all the more important. But I quite agree that it's a risk that Irene ought not to take."

Kindell felt, as he said this, the discomfort of one whom love and duty pull separate ways, for he knew that - particularly for her father's sake - Irene was the one who should take it, and he had express instructions to that effect, and a message he had not given.

"I don't see," Irene said, "that there's any risk at all."

"That," her father replied, "must surely depend upon whether the suitcase we sent has been opened. They wouldn't believe anything you say if they've seen what it contains."

"I needn't go into the house, if I don't want."

"All the same, Alders will go, and not you."

Kindell thought: "After all, would there be any real risk? And she's right that she needn't go into the house. If they've opened the suitcase, they'll be in a panic. They won't try to make things worse by doing anything to her. . . . And they wouldn't be expecting her to call. It would be an utterly unforeseen development."

Beyond that, he was obliged, by the explicit instructions he had received, to object to the plan which was now proposed.

"The Foreign Office," he said, "are very anxious that you should not be officially involved in any further development."

"But if Irene - - "

"It is not quite the same thing. In the first instance, the bogus message was directed to her. It is a matter with which your embassy might not be connected at all. Just a thing she did on her own, out of friendship for me."

Mr. Thurlow saw the force of that. Indeed, it not only might be. It was. And, but for his own interference - foolish interference, it might be said - so it would have remained.

Yet, in view of what was now known, for one of the embassy secretaries to be the medium of delivery, and perhaps, as a consequence, have to give evidence in court - well, it might still be steered in the right way. His agile political mind saw it being given such a twist that he might be applauded for the help he had given to the country to which he was accredited in rooting out a gang of international criminals. But he did not like it. It was full of risks, such as successful politicians must have become adroit to avoid. And the Foreign Office evidently saw it in the same light. They were willing to help him to pull out. It would be his own fault, if he should become further involved.

He saw another angle. He saw that, if Irene should be in the front of the picture, and especially if there should be a loveinterest suggested, however vaguely, between herself and Kindell (in his altered character of a Government agent), the chivalrous American public might be won to a most satisfactory sympathy. Every weight was in the same scale. But he was of no mind to buy his own advantage at his daughter's peril. He said, "All the same, I'm not willing for you to go."

"Oh, Father, you make me tired! The real question is how quickly I can get off, and which car I shall have."

"That's not the question at all. I'd rather cut the whole thing - "

"Anybody could see that you can't do that now. Or, at least, that this is the only way."

Kindell looked at two obstinate people, and had a sudden temptation, to which he fell. At the worst, he would have an excuse. They were losing time, and there was unquestionable disadvantage in that. He had already acted with indiscretion in getting in touch with Irene, and its consequences were such that he would certainly escape blame. A second audacity might be equally fortunate. And there is no doubt that he found himself easy to convince, it being what he wanted to do.

"Suppose," he said, turning to the ambassador, for he was about to make a proposal which Irene would be unlikely to resist "that I go with her as far as the door?"

"You mean you would drive the car?"

"Yes. I might risk that. The Blinkwells don't live there, and the Collinson woman wouldn't know me."

"If they've not found anything out," Irene said shrewdly "it isn't likely that the Blinkwells would be there, and, if they have, I should say it's less likely still. . . . And no one would think of looking to see if Will's in the car."

They all saw that. It would be the utterly unexpected again. Mr. Thurlow, half convinced, or rather wholly convinced, but still reluctant to agree to Irene's part in the matter, said doubtfully, "Well, if you're sure it's the best way - - "

Will said, "I really think it is," and Irene was already getting through to the garage. "Yes," they heard her say, "the Austin will do. There'll be no one needed to drive."