murdered man."

"A crime for which no logical reason existed," continued the
colonel. "It puzzled everybody, till Hardcastle succeeded where
his superior officers at Scotland Yard had failed. I believe he's
still young. But that was less amazing than the German spy--you
remember now, Sir Walter? The spy had been too clever for England
and France--thanks to a woman who helped him. Peter Hardcastle
got to know her; then he actually disguised himself as the woman--
of course without her knowledge--arrested her, and kept an
appointment that she had made with the spy. What was the spy
called? I forget."

"Wundt," said Felix Fayre-Michell.

"No, I don't think so. Hardt or Hardfelt, or something like that."

"Anyway, a jolly wonderful thing. He's the first man at this
business, and I hope you'll be able to secure him."

"If he comes, Sir Walter, don't let it be known that he is here.
Keep it a secret. If Hardcastle could come down as your guest,
and nobody know he was here, it might help him to succeed."

"And if he fails, then I hope you'll invite the Psychical Research
Society."

Sir Walter let the chatter flow past him; but he concentrated on
the name of Peter Hardcastle. He remembered the story of the spy,
and the sensation it had aroused.