“But there mustn’t be any suspicion of our colluding. You must keep away from me, and only communicate by letter.”
He jumped to his feet in excitement.
“I’ve got it. We’ll have a code. I’ll telegraph to you, Dick.”
“All right. Hit out your code.”
I left him presently busy over it, full of a shrewd importance. There was a purpose I had in my mind, some information I was hot to obtain, and my eagerness emboldened me to seek it at headquarters.
Lord Skene received me very genially in his study. He was dressed in a suit of new tweeds, and looked as fresh and dapper as a boy on his honeymoon.
“Well, Gaskett,” he said, “what is it?”
I held out to him, title-page open, the book in which I had found the letter the night before.
“Yes?” he said, with a sort of curious dryness. “George Thesiger.”
“He’s dead, sir?”