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value. You see, messieurs, I am frank. But naturally, negotiations would not be entered into without the Quai d’Orsay being satisfied that the offer was genuine. In the case of which I speak the writer asked for a reply in the London Times , stating that France was prepared to negotiate.’
    Wallace smiled slightly.
    ‘Why do you smile, monsieur?’ asked the Frenchman.
    ‘I will tell you presently,’ replied the Englishman. ‘Please go on.’
    ‘ Bien . Before replying as requested, it was necessary to make investigations, but I confess that everything was so wrapped in mystery that nothing could be discovered. The letter was typed on ordinary paper in French of the most faultless; there was no indication to suggest address or name or, in fact, anything about the writer. All we knew was that the document had been posted in England at a place called—’
    ‘Sheerness,’ put in Wallace.
    The Frenchman’s eyebrows rose slightly.
    ‘No, monsieur, it was Southend. Why do you say Sheerness? Have you reason to—’
    ‘Pardon my interruption, Monsieur Damien. I was merely guessing. Certain communications which presumably emanated from the same source, were posted in Sheerness. I find the fact that the letter, of which you speak, was dispatched from Southend quite interesting.’
    ‘Then you know of the communication to the French Government?’
    ‘I do. I also know that similar communications were sent toBerlin and Moscow. They, I may as well tell you at once, were posted in Sheerness.’
    The Frenchman smiled. He was not in the least surprised by the revelations.
    ‘It is amusing, this game of international espionage,’ he commented. ‘If we knew how – but I am not here to talk of matters so delicate. As I have said, I am here to beg your assistance. As you know so much, my task is made a little the easier. Having this knowledge, you will guess I am aware that an offer was made to your government of certain French plans for alliances of an offensive and defensive nature. Circumstances all seem to point to the likelihood that these offers are inspired by the same individual.’
    ‘I quite agree with you there,’ nodded Sir Leonard. ‘It appears that an organisation has arisen which intends to make money by stealing the secrets of one nation, and selling them to the highest bidder among the others.’
    ‘Exactly, monsieur. But unless the whole thing is bluff, how can this organisation have obtained so many secrets? One or even two, yes, but more it seems impossible. Yet to France has been offered two of Great Britain’s cherished secrets and one of Germany’s; Britain has been offered a secret of France, perhaps also others; to Germany has been offered the same secret, and I very much fear another. Tell me, monsieur, do you think it is all fraud, this?’
    Wallace emphatically shook his head.
    ‘Since you have been so frank with me and, as you say, are placing your cards on the table, I will be equally frank with you. There is no bluff about this thing. There is an organisation which has certainly obtained the secrets it claims to possess, and intends to enrich itself at the expense of the nations concerned. I say this, fully convinced of the truth of it.’
    Monsieur Damien’s eyes gleamed.
    ‘Then I have not come for your help in vain, I hope,’ he remarked. ‘These people, it seems, are in England. You will do your best to exterminate them, and quickly?’
    Wallace eyed him thoughtfully for some moments. The Foreign Secretary looked from one to the other, appearing to be rather puzzled. Presently Wallace spoke:
    ‘You told us, Monsieur Damien,’ he observed, ‘that you intended to lay all your cards on the table.’
    ‘But certainly.’
    ‘At present there are one or two missing, and I believe they are more important than the others. It appears to me that, measuring what Britain is likely to lose against what France is likely to lose by the sale of the national secrets under discussion, Britain