"Shall you be going out again to-night, sir?" asked Coates, standing
rigidly to attention as was his custom when addressing me.

"I think not, Coates," I replied. "I have done enough for one day, but
I should be glad if you would ring up the New Avenue Theater and
inquire if Miss Merlin will speak to me. It will be about time now for
the performance to have finished."

"Very good, sir," said Coates, and proceeded to make the call, whilst
I sat listlessly smoking and listening to his voice. Presently:

"Miss Merlin did not appear to-night, sir," he announced: "she is
indisposed."

"I thought as much," I muttered. "I could hardly have expected after
such a day of horror and excitement that she would have been capable
of appearing to-night. Ring up her flat, Coates," I added. "I should
like to speak to her, for I know she is in great trouble."

"Indeed, sir," Coates permitted himself to remark. "Is it something to
do with the discovery at the docks this morning, sir?"

"It is, Coates," I replied. "It is an utterly damnable business."

"Indeed, sir," said Coates again, and went to the telephone.

Three minutes later I was talking to Isobel.

"I find it utterly impossible to tell you what has happened," she
declared, "since I saw you last. I feel incapable of thinking, and of