many years has been used as a store. It belongs to a loyalist friend of ours, and I can use it as I like. From one of the upper windows it is possible to see right into Mestich’s little salon, where the meetings are held. We will meet there to-night. You must come separately to the alley at the back; we dare not enter by the front. There is a small doorway there, half overgrown by clematis and apparently never used. I will be inside waiting to open the door when you knock.”

For the rest of the day Dick and Yvette were careful to behave as ordinary tourists “doing the sights” of Langengrad, the Rathaus, the Museum, and the Opera House, and still buying piles of useless souvenirs. But they were soon to realise that a careful watch was kept on all strangers in Langengrad.

Just as they were finishing dinner that night they were approached by an officious little black-moustached man who sent a waiter to call them aside. When they were in a small smoking-room he made a courteous request for their papers. These were, of course, in order, and Dick had no misgivings on the point. But for some reason the shrewd, sallow-faced official seemed suspicious, and Dick noticed with anxiety that he spoke faultless French.

Would his own, he wondered, pass muster?

“Monsieur speaks French like an Englishman,” the police officer suddenly rapped out.

Luckily Dick was prepared.

“Yes,” he answered readily, “I was brought up in England. I was at school at Rugby. My friends in our French Air Force nicknamed me ‘The Englishman.’”

The officer, it appeared, had also been an airman and proceeded to talk interestingly on the subject of aero engines. He was perfectly courteous, but none the less Dick had an uncomfortable suspicion that he was beneath a human microscope. Fortunately the subject was on one which he could not possibly be “stumped” and try as he would the police official found he had met his match.

Dick was intensely interested and amused by his skill and courtesy. None the less the position was most dangerous. He realised fully that—as was indeed the fact—the officer might be one of Mestich’s lieutenants, and unless he could be satisfied their chances of getting away from Langengrad were trifling.

At length he seemed satisfied that Dick was really what he pretended to be, and finally left them with a courteous farewell, having accepted a 

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