"
"That," she admitted, "is fairly obvious; what of it?"
"Well," I said, "the most straightforward thing for me to do, I believe,
would be to go to the nearest police-station and tell them all I know."
She laughed softly.
"What an Englishman you are!" she exclaimed. "The law, or a letter to the
_Times_. These are your final resources, are they not? Well, in this
case, let me assure you that neither would help you in the least."
"I am not so sure," I answered. "At any rate, I do not see the fun of
letting him remain there, to be done to death by those mysterious enemies
of his."
"Then why not take him away?" she asked quietly.
"Where to?" I asked.
"Your own home, if you are sufficiently interested in him!"
"Do you mean that?" I asked.
"I do! Listen! I have no pity for the man who calls himself Leslie Guest!
Death he has deserved, and his fate, whomever might intervene, is
absolutely inevitable. But I do not wish him to die--at present!"
"Why not?"
"You can imagine, I think. He has the secret."
"He does not seem to me," I remarked, "the sort of man likely to part
with it.
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