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but the chances are that he’ll pull through. He was one of Ebbutt’s men, who was keeping a watch on Noddy’s house. Both of them were attacked. Three men were involved, altogether—this man here, Downing and another, who hasn’t been identified. Did you see him?”
    â€œI didn’t recognise him.”
    Grice grunted.
    â€œI hope that’s true. This job shows an unmistakable French angle, and you can’t play the fool with the French police as you sometimes do with us. They’ve a sharp way of dealing with amateurs.”
    Rollison grinned.
    â€œOn the other hand, it might serve a turn if you had a brush with them,” Grice mused. “You’d learn to appreciate the Yard more, Rolly. Is this gospel truth? You didn’t know any of these men before tonight?”
    â€œI know vaguely of Downing. Real bad man, isn’t he?”
    â€œAs bad as they come, and dangerous.”
    â€œThat’s why Noddy helped the girl. She has a lot to thank Noddy for.” Rollison leaned back and looked at Grice through his lashes. “We both start from scratch, and the prisoner’s yours. With judicious pressure, he might talk.”
    â€œDidn’t you try to make him?”
    â€œNot seriously, I thought I’d leave something to you. The girl can’t be moved, and probably won’t come round tonight,” Rollison added. “I’ve arranged for a nurse, who’ll stay on duty with her, and if there’s any outpouring of explanations, I’ll let you know. I doubt if there will be.” He stretched across and picked up the pearls, then tossed them into Grice’s lap. “You’d better have a look at these, and keep them safe. Motive is not robbery, you see.”
    â€œAny idea what the motive is?”
    â€œI simply know that the girl is terrified, and that if a certain Madame Thysson had known what was going to happen, she would never have allowed the girl to leave the gay city. Ever heard of a Madame Thysson?”
    â€œNo. Have you?”
    â€œCertainly not,” said Rollison. He stifled a yawn. “Sorry, Bill. Not boredom, exhaustion. You’ve a call out for Downing and the mystery man, I hope.”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œAny help from the car I left at Piccadilly Circus?”
    â€œI haven’t heard,” said Grice. “Can you tell me when the girl and the Frenchman reached England?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œAnything to identify the girl in her handbag?”
    â€œShe didn’t have one.”
    â€œOr in the man’s pockets?”
    â€œI haven’t looked,” said Rollison, virtuously.
    â€œYou’re either lying or slipping fast,” said Grice, and smiled unexpectedly. “All right, Rolly. Let me give you—”
    â€œA solemn word of warning,” interrupted Rollison, straight-faced. “There is much here which I will not understand. I cannot play the fool with the Sûreté Générale as I can with Scotland Yard. I am to be a good boy, tell you everything, and then go away and have a nice holiday in the country, because Downing is dangerous and may have dangerous friends. Warning noted.”
    Grice laughed.
    â€œI’ll take the Frenchman away,” he said; “at least you won’t be able to try to persuade him to talk.”
    Â 
    Rollison woke, and through the lashes of one eye, studied Jolly’s back. Jolly was at the window, drawing the curtains. Bright sunlight shone into one corner of the room, and as it was nearly the end of November, that meant that it was late; at least nine o’clock and probably later. Rollison yawned, and opened the other eye. Jolly came from the window, and asked: “Shall I pour out, sir?”
    â€œThanks.”
    By the side of the bed was a morning tea-tray, the newspapers and the post. Rollison sat up, opened the most sensational of the three papers, and put it away quickly. He glanced through the