exactly a picnic, nowadays. Besides, if you come on the _City of
Boston_ there will be more than one danger to be faced."

"Danger!" she exclaimed contemptuously. "Have I ever shown myself
afraid? Have we any of us--my brother or father or I--hesitated to run
any possible risk when it was worth while? This house has been yours,
and we in it, to do what you will with. It isn't a matter of
danger--you know that. I come or go as you bid me." He met the fierce
enquiry of her eyes without flinching. Only his tone was a little
kinder as he answered her.

"I think, Nora," he said, "that you had better stay."

There was a timid but persistent knocking at the door, and, in
response to Nora's invitation, a fat and bloated man entered the room
hurriedly. He sank into a chair and mopped the perspiration from his
forehead. Jocelyn Thew watched him with an air of contemptuous
amusement.

"You seem distressed, Rentoul," he remarked. "Has anything gone
wrong?"

"But it is terrible, this!" the newcomer declared. "Anything gone
wrong, indeed! Listen. The police have made themselves free of my
house. My beautiful wireless--it was only a hobby--it has gone! They
open my letters. They will ruin me. Never did I think that this would
arrive! There has been some terrible bungling!"

"And you," Jocelyn Thew retorted, "seem to have been the arch
bungler."