The Chief looked as embarrassed as a man usually looks when he is appealed to in a busy moment by an extremely attractive girl.
“Miss Mackwayte,” he said firmly but with great courtesy, “you must wait outside. I know how unnerved you are by all that you have gone through, but I am engaged just now. I shall be free presently.”
“It is about my father, Chief,” Barbara said in a trembling voice, “I have found out what they came to get!”
“Ah!” said the Chief and the other man simultaneously.
“We had better hear what she has to say!” said the other man, “but won’t you introduce me first?”
“This is Sir Bristowe Marr, the First Sea Lord,” said the Chief, bringing up a chair for Barbara, “Miss Mackwayte, my secretary, Admiral!”
Then in a low impassioned voice Barbara told her tale of the package entrusted to her by Nur-el-Din and its disappearance from her bedroom on the night of the murder. As she proceeded a deep furrow appeared between the Chief’s bushy eyebrows and he stared absently at the blotting-pad in front of him. When the girl had finished her story, the Chief said:
“Lambelet ought to hear this, sir: he’s the head of the French Intelligence, you know. He’s outside now. Shall we have him in? Miss Mackwayte shall tell her story, and you can then hear what Lambelet has to say about this versatile young dancer.”
Without waiting for further permission, he pressed a bell on the desk and presently Matthews ushered in the small man with the Legion of Honor whom Barbara had seen in the ante-room.
The Chief introduced the Frenchman and in a few words explained the situation to him. Then he turned to Barbara: