‘Well I’m damned! Poor Duncan! And what’s he going to get out of it?’

‘I don’t know. But he might rather like it, even.’

‘He might, might he? Well, he’s a funny man if he does. Why, you’ve never even had an affair with him, have you?’

‘No! But he doesn’t really want it. He only loves me to be near him, but not to touch him.’

‘My God, what a generation!’

‘He would like me most of all to be a model for him to paint from. Only I never wanted to.’

‘God help him! But he looks down–trodden enough for anything.’

‘Still, you wouldn’t mind so much the talk about him?’

‘My God, Connie, all the bloody contriving!’

‘I know! It’s sickening! But what can I do?’

‘Contriving, conniving; conniving, contriving! Makes a man think he’s lived too long.’

‘Come, Father, if you haven’t done a good deal of contriving and conniving in your time, you may talk.’

‘But it was different, I assure you.’

‘It’s ALWAYS different.’

Hilda arrived, also furious when she heard of the new developments. And she also simply could not stand the thought of a public scandal about her sister and a game–keeper. Too, too humiliating!

‘Why should we not just disappear, separately, to British Columbia, and have no scandal?’ said Connie.

But that was no good. The scandal would come out just the same. And if Connie was going going with the man, she’d better be able to marry him. This was Hilda’s opinion. Sir Malcolm wasn’t sure. The affair might still blow over.

‘But will you see him, Father?’

Poor Sir Malcolm! he was by no means keen on it. And poor Mellors, he was still less keen. Yet the meeting took place: a lunch in a private room at the club, the two men alone, looking one another up and down.

Sir Malcolm drank a fair amount of whisky, Mellors also drank. And they talked all the while about India, on which the young man was well informed.

This lasted during the meal. Only when coffee was served, and the waiter had gone, Sir Malcolm lit a cigar and said, heartily:

‘Well, young man, and what about my daughter?’

The grin flickered on Mellors’ face.

‘Well, Sir, and what about her?’

‘You’ve got a baby in her all right.’

‘I have that honour!’ grinned Mellors.

‘Honour, by God!’ Sir Malcolm gave a little squirting laugh, and became Scotch and lewd. ‘Honour! How was the going, eh? Good, my boy, what?’

‘Good!’

‘I’ll bet it was! Ha–ha! My daughter, chip of the old block, what! I never went back on a good bit of fucking, myself. Though her mother, oh, holy saints!’ He rolled his eyes to heaven. ‘But you warmed her up, oh, you warmed her up, I can see that. Ha–ha! My blood in her! You set fire to her haystack all right. Ha–ha–ha! I was jolly glad of it, I can tell you. She needed it. Oh, she’s a nice girl, she’s a nice girl, and I knew she’d be good going, if only some damned man would set her stack on fire! Ha–ha–ha! A game–keeper, eh, my boy! Bloody good poacher, if you ask me. Ha–ha! But now, look here, speaking seriously, what are we going to do about it? Speaking seriously, you know!’

“But you have recovered them?”

“No, Sherlock, no! That’s the pinch. We have not. Ten papers were taken from Woolwich. There were seven in the pocket of Cadogan West. The three most essential are gone — stolen, vanished. You must drop everything, Sherlock. Never mind your usual petty puzzles of the police-court. It’s a vital international problem that you have to solve. Why did Cadogan West take the papers, where are the missing ones, how did he die, how came his body where it was found, how can the evil be set right? Find an answer to all these questions, and you will have done good service for your country.”

“Why do you not solve it yourself, Mycroft? You can see as far as I.”

“Possibly, Sherlock. But it is a question of getting details. Give me your details, and from an armchair I will return you an excellent expert opinion. But to run here and run there, to cross-question railway guards, and lie on my face with a lens to my eye — it is not my metier. No, you are the one man who can clear the matter up. If you have a fancy to see your name in the next honours list —”

My friend smiled and shook his head.

“I play the game for the game’s own sake,” said he. “But the problem certainly presents some points of interest, and I shall be very pleased to look into it. Some more facts, please.”

“I have jotted down the more essential ones upon this sheet of paper, together with a few addresses which you will find of service. The actual official guardian of the papers is the famous government expert, Sir James Walter. whose decorations and sub-titles fill two lines of a book of reference. He has grown gray in the service, is a gentleman, a favoured guest in the most exalted houses, and, above all, a man whose patriotism is beyond suspicion. He is one of two who have a key of the safe. I may add that the papers were undoubtedly in the office during working hours on Monday, and that Sir James left for London about three o’clock taking his key with him. He was at the house of Admiral Sinclair at Barclay Square during the whole of the evening when this incident occurred.”

“Has the fact been verified?”

“Yes; his brother, Colonel Valentine Walter, has testified to his departure from Woolwich, and Admiral Sinclair to his arrival in London; so Sir James is no longer a direct factor in the problem.”

“Who was the other man with a key?”

“The senior clerk and draughtsman, Mr. Sidney Johnson. He is a man of forty, married, with five children. He is a silent, morose man, but he has, on the whole, an excellent record in the public service. He is unpopular with his colleagues, but a hard worker. According to his own account, corroborated only by the word of his wife, he was at home the whole of Monday evening after office hours, and his key has never left the watch-chain upon which it hangs.”

“Tell us about Cadogan West.”

“He has been ten years in the service and has done good work. He has the reputation of being hot-headed and impetuous, but a straight, honest man. We have nothing against him. He was next to Sidney Johnson in the office. His duties brought him into daily, personal contact with the plans. No one else had the handling of them.”