“To no other end,” said Broad coolly. “You don’t know Frog, Gordon! The man is a strategist—probably the greatest strategist in the world. Can I do anything?”
“I would ask you to stay and keep Miss Bennett amused——” Dick began.
“I think you might do worse,” said the American quietly.
Ella looked up with a look of pain as the visitor entered the room. She felt that she could not endure the presence of a stranger at this moment, that she would break under any new strain, and she glanced at Dick imploringly.
“If you don’t want me to stay, Miss Bennett,” smiled Broad, “well, I’ll go just as soon as you tell me. But I’ve one piece of information to pass to you, and it is this: that your brother will not die.”
His eyes met Dick Gordon’s, and the Prosecutor bit his lip to restrain the cry that came involuntarily.
“Why?” she asked eagerly, but neither of the men could tell her.
Dick telephoned to the garage for his car, the very machine that Ray Bennett had driven the first day they had met. His first call was at the office of the Public Prosecutor, and to him he stated the facts.
“It is a most remarkable story, and I can do nothing, of course. You’d better see the Secretary of State at once, Gordon.”
“Is the House of Commons sitting, sir?”