"Quite so.... Anything fresh?"

Loreuil smiled. "I have got your man."

"Sure of it?"

Loreuil seated himself next Juve. He spoke low.

"He calls himself Butler ... says he is Canadian.... He declares he has been in London some time: it is a falsehood. I recognise him perfectly. I had already seen him at Chalons, when he had a connection with the singer Nichoune, and we suspected him of being the author of the leakages in the offices of the Headquarters Staff."

"That is Corporal Vinson, then?"

"Consequently you must intervene," said Loreuil.

Juve reflected. After a short silence he said:

"Intervene! You go too fast. Remember we are in a foreign country, and there is no question of a common law crime: Vinson is not accused of murder, simply of treason.

"I like that word 'simply,'" remarked Loreuil ironically.

"Don't take that in bad part," smiled Juve; "but it has its importance from an international point of view. I cannot arrest Vinson in England on the pretext that he is a spy."

"Happily we have foreseen that difficulty," said Loreuil. "Butler will accompany us to Belgium. He believes we are Belgians. Belgium means France, as far as we are concerned--the three of us!"

Juve had reached London the evening before. He had found at Scotland Yard several telegrams and a private note from a detective friend, informing him of the arrival of an individual known to be an officer of the Second Bureau.

Juve met Loreuil. The two men, on the same quest, put their heads together. They were soon on the track of Vinson. A man answering to his description had been in London several weeks. This was the truth.

Juve would not admit it. He believed Vinson had arrived in England only a few hours ahead of him.

Loreuil, whose mission did not include the arrest of Vinson, considered he had done his part as soon as he had identified the corporal. Juve would do the rest.

"We are agreed, then!" said Loreuil. "If I introduce you to Butler as Paul, the theatrical manager, who wishes to engage him as trainer of canaries ... the rest you can manage for yourself.... Be circ.u.mspect!

The fellow is on the lookout!"

"He must leave with me to-night--it is urgent!" insisted Juve.... "You must help me, Captain!"

Captain Loreuil frowned.

"I must confess I don't like this sort of thing!" said he.

"But this affair is more serious even than you know," said Juve. "This Vinson business does not stand alone: it is but a strand in a vast network of mystery and wickedness of the most malignant kind."

Still the captain was reluctant. To take part in such a sinister comedy; to make a poor wretch tipsy in order to deliver him to the authorities for punishment, wounded the captain's self-respect. Juve overcame his hesitations with the words:

"It is not merely a secret service matter, Monsieur: it is a question of National Defence."

"I will help you, Monsieur," was the captain's answer to this, adding:

"Let us go up! Our man's patience must be giving out."

XXV

THE ARREST

The Dover Express, the Continental Mail, was moving out of Charing Cross station.

Three travellers were seated in a first-cla.s.s compartment. They were smoking big cigars: their eyes were bright, their cheeks flushed; they looked like big men who had dined well. These were Butler, Tommy and Paul, leaving for Belgium: otherwise Juve, Loreuil and Vinson bound for France! Copious libations of generous wines and strong liqueurs had reduced Butler-Vinson to the condition of a maudlin puppet: Tommy and Paul had made Butler most conveniently drunk.

The train rushed forward through station after station, brilliantly lighted, then plunged into the obscurity of the country. A stupefying warmth from the heating apparatus impelled slumber. Unfortunate Butler-Vinson, lulled by the regular movement of the train, was soon fast asleep.

Juve and Loreuil kept vigil. They were sitting side by side facing their captive.

"Dover will be the difficulty," whispered Juve, who had drawn closer to the captain.

"Yes, that is the crucial point," agreed Loreuil....

The express was entering the tunnels pierced in the precipitous coastline of the Channel near Dover. There was a short stop at Dover Town station before it drew up on the Pier. There the travellers would embark. Of these there were two distant streams: those crossing to Belgium: those bound for France. Butler-Vinson still slept soundly.

Juve was waiting till the last minute. Then he would awaken his prisoner as he already considered him and shepherd him aboard the Calais boat.

Captain Loreuil got out and went on ahead.

"Come along, Butler!" Juve cried suddenly. He shook the slumbering traitor sharply.

Butler-Vinson leaped to his feet with frightened eyes and gaping mouth.

"What is it?" he stuttered. "What do you want with me?"

Juve's smile was a masterpiece of hypocrisy.

"Why, old fellow, you must wake up! We must go aboard our boat!"

The corporal heard men shouting:

"Steamer _Victoria_ for Ostend! Steamer _Empress_ for Calais!"

"We must hurry!" cried Juve, pushing the bemused Butler-Vinson out of the compartment.

There was a sea fog growing denser every minute. Without their powerful electric lights it would have been impossible to recognise the boats or the gangways leading to them.

Juve had Butler by the arm: a necessary precaution, for the wretched man could scarcely keep on his feet. Juve propelled him towards a gangway: a minute later both were on the boat.

Vinson caught sight of the inscription _Empress_ on the lifebuoys. A flash of reason illumined Butler-Vinson's drink-soddened mind. He hesitated, drew back with a frightened look.

"Didn't I hear just now that this boat goes to Calais?"