"It looks," said Father Murray, "as though we had no other choice."
Mark glanced at the priest, astonished that he should acquiesce so easily, but Father Murray gave him a quick, meaning look.
"That, Reverend Sir," answered the secretary, "is true. Since you see it so, I will bid you good day—to meet you again, shortly."
Scarcely had the secretary left the room when Father Murray was at the telephone calling Saunders.
"Come down," he directed, "at once."
Saunders was with them before either Mark or the priest spoke again.
"Well?" Saunders lost no time.
Father Murray gave him an outline of what had passed. Mark said nothing. A picture of despair, he was sitting with his head bowed upon his breast.
"And now, Mr. Saunders," said Father Murray, "it is your business to counsel—to be a real detective. What do you suggest?"
"She is at the Ministry," said Saunders. "Let that be my first statement. She is occupying a room which opens on a balcony of the second floor. There is a guard in the next room, which also opens on the same balcony. She is well watched. But I was in front of that house three hours last night, and again this morning—rather, I was in the house across the way. I had a good chance to communicate the news of your arrival to her—"