"I understand," Wingate replied—-"but I should think it probable, if the truth dawns upon our friends—that no brake will be necessary.—As regards your own affairs, Harrison?"
"I received your letter last night, sir."
"You found its contents satisfactory?"
"I found them generous, sir."
Wingate took up his hat and stick a moment or so later.
"My visit here," he remarked, "might easily be misconstrued. Would it be possible for me to leave without fighting my way through that mob?"
Harrison led the way through an inner room to a door opening out upon a passage. Dark buildings frowned down upon them from either side. The place was a curious little oasis from the noonday heat. In the distance was a narrow vista of passing men and vehicles. Harrison stood there with the handle of the door in his hand. There was no farewell between him and his departing visitor, no sign of intelligence in his inscrutable face.
"Presuming that the disappearance of Mr. Phipps, Mr. Rees and Lord Dredlinton is accounted for by this supposed journey to the North," he ventured, "when should you imagine that they might be communicating with me?"
"About dawn to-morrow," Wingate replied. "You will be here."
"I never leave," was the quiet answer. "About dawn to-morrow?"