“By Jove ...!” exclaimed Robin impressively. “Hartley Parrish!...”
The big man raised a hand.
“Attentions!” he interposed suavely. “The chain is not yet complete. I wonder what this van der Spyck letter of Miss Trevert’s contained that made Victor Marbran and the secretary chap so desperately anxious to get hold of it. For you understand, don’t you?” he said briskly, turning to Robin, “that they were after that and that alone. And they risked penal servitude in this country to get it ...”
Robin nodded.
“To save their necks in another,” he said.
“I have the letter here,” mildly remarked the doctor from his corner of the room. “Miss Trevert gave it to me!”
He produced a white envelope and drew from it a folded square of slatey-blue paper. In great excitement Robin sprang forward.
“You’re a downy bird, Doctor, I must say,” he remarked, “fancy keeping it up your sleeve all this time!”
He eagerly took the letter, spread it out on the table, and read it through whilst Herr Schulz looked over his shoulder.
“Code, eh?” commented the big man, shaking his head humorously. “If it beats Dulkinghorn, it beats me!”