line--and knows it. He was the Fifth Assistant Secretary, had been the
Fifth Assistant and Chief of the Cipher Division for years. His superior
was not to be found in any capital in Europe. His business with the
secret service of the Department was to pull the strings and obtain
results; and he got results, else he would not have been continued in
office. His specialty, however, was ciphers; and his chief joy was in a
case that had a cipher at the bottom. Ciphers were his recreation, as
well as his business.

The Secretary with a gesture turned him over to Harleston--and Harleston
handed him the letter.

"What do you make out of it, Mr. Carpenter?" he asked.

Carpenter took the letter and examined it for a moment, holding it to
the light, and carefully feeling its texture.

"Not a great deal cursorily," he answered. "It's a French paper--the
sort, I think, used at the Quay d'Orsay. Have you the envelope
accompanying it?"

"Here it is!" said Harleston.

"This envelope, however, is not French; it's English," Carpenter said
instantly. "See! a saltire within an orle is the private water-mark of
Sergeant & Co. I likely can tell you more after careful examination in
my workshop."

"How about the message itself?" Harleston asked.