"Why and how did you come here?" he asked.

"I always meant to come to England, for I thought it the sanest
place in a mad world. Also it is a good country to hide in, for it
is apart from Europe, and your police, as I thought, do not permit
evil men to be their own law. But especially I had a friend, a
Scottish gentleman, whom I knew in the days when we Russians were
still a nation. I saw him again in Italy, and since he was kind and
brave I told him some part of my troubles. He was called Quentin
Kennedy, and now he is dead. He told me that in Scotland he had a
lonely chateau, where I could hide secretly and safely, and against
the day when I might be hard-pressed he gave me a letter to his
steward, bidding him welcome me as a guest when I made application.
At that time I did not think I would need such sanctuary, but a
month ago the need became urgent, for the hunt in France was very
close on me. So I sent a message to the steward as Captain Kennedy
told me."

"What is his name?" Heritage asked.

She spelt it, "Monsieur Loudon--L-O-U-D-O-N in the town of Auchenlochan."

"The factor," said Dickson, "And what then?"

"Some spy must have found me out. I had a letter from this Loudon
bidding me come to Auchenlochan. There I found no steward to
receive me, but another letter saying that that night a carriage
would be in waiting to bring me here. It was midnight when we
arrived, and we were brought in by strange ways to this house, with