his hand he sprang into the car, and a moment later the two
golden cones from the headlights shot through the darkness. The
secretary lay back in the cushions of the luxurious limousine,
with his thoughts so full of the impending European tragedy that
he hardly observed that as his car swung round the village street
it nearly passed over a little Ford coming in the opposite
direction.

Von Bork walked slowly back to the study when the last gleams of
the motor lamps had faded into the distance. As he passed he
observed that his old housekeeper had put out her lamp and
retired. It was a new experience to him, the silence and
darkness of his widespread house, for his family and household
had been a large one. It was a relief to him, however, to think
that they were all in safety and that, but for that one old woman
who had lingered in the kitchen, he had the whole place to
himself. There was a good deal of tidying up to do inside his
study and he set himself to do it until his keen, handsome face
was flushed with the heat of the burning papers. A leather
valise stood beside his table, and into this he began to pack
very neatly and systematically the precious contents of his safe.
He had hardly got started with the work, however, when his quick
ears caught the sounds of a distant car. Instantly he gave an
exclamation of satisfaction, strapped up the valise, shut the
safe, locked it, and hurried out on to the terrace. He was just
in time to see the lights of a small car come to a halt at the
gate. A passenger sprang out of it and advanced swiftly towards
him, while the chauffeur, a heavily built, elderly man with a
gray moustache, settled down like one who resigns himself to a
long vigil.