"I? But what have I done?" Rentoul demanded, wringing his hands. "I
have always obeyed orders. Even a hint has been enough. I have spent a
great deal of money--much more than I could afford. What have I
done wrong?"

"You have talked too much, for one thing," was the cold reply, "but
we haven't time for recriminations now. How did you get here?"

"I came in my car. You will perhaps say that it was not wise, but I
could not have stood the subway. My nerves are all rotten." Jocelyn
Thew's tone and gesture were smoothly disdainful.

"You are quite right," he agreed. "You have lost what you call your
nerve. You had better send for the newspaper men, give them plenty of
champagne, and explain what a loyal American citizen you are. Have you
burnt everything?"

"Every scrap of paper in the house which concerns a certain matter is
burnt," Rentoul declared.

"It would be!"

"But I am in the right," the agitated man protested vigorously. "For
five years we have worked and with good result. It is finished with us
now for the present. There is no one who would dare to continue. Five
long years, mind you, Mr. Jocelyn Thew. That is worth something, eh?"

"Whatever it may be worth," was the somewhat grim reply, "will be
decided within the next fortnight. That doesn't concern you, though."