As we sauntered in the beautiful woods on a sunny afternoon towards the end of April, discussing our plans for the honeymoonfor we were to be married in a week's timeDulcie suddenly asked, apropos of nothing:
"Mike, why did that detective, Albeury, make you go to Eldon Hall? You were not to take part in the capture. You could quite well have stayed in London."
"In a way that was a mistake," I answered. "He never intended that I should go further than the farm two miles from the Hall, where we had pulled up. He thought he would need me to identify some of the men about to be arrested, and so he wanted me on the spot. But he had not told me why he wanted me there, so when the police officers prepared to start out for Eldon from the farm, naturally I insisted upon going with themI wanted to see some of the fun, or what I thought was going to be an extremely exciting event."
"Which it proved to be," she said seriously.
Just then I remembered something.
"Look, my darling," I said, "what I received this morning."
I drew out of my pocket a letter, and handed it to her. It bore a German postmark. It had been posted in Alsace-Lorraine.
She unfolded the letter, and slowly read it through.
"How dreadful," she said. "Poor Jack!"
I paused.