“While you are working at the hut, it will be better, I think, if you stay entirely on the premises.  I believe you will find everything you want in the way of food and cooking materials, and you will, of course, take down your own personal belongings with you.  In the event of anything you really need having been forgotten, you can always walk into Tilbury, but I should strongly advise you not to do so, except in a case of absolute necessity.  Apart from any danger of your being recognized, we are extremely anxious that no one connected with the powder trade should have the least idea that experiments are being conducted with regard to a new explosive.  A large part of the immediate value of your invention will consist in its coming on the market as an absolute surprise.

“I have been unexpectedly called away for a few days, but directly I return I shall come down to Tilbury and see you.  Should you wish to communicate with me in the interval, you can do so by writing or wiring to me at the Hotel Russell, London, W.C.

“I hope that you have enjoyed your well-earned if rather long-delayed holiday.

“Your sincere friend,

“L.J.  McMURTRIE.”

I finished reading and slowly refolded the letter.

“You know what this is about, of course, Sonia?” I said.

She nodded again.  “They want you to go down there at once.  You must do it; you must do everything you are told just at present.”

“I ought to be able to manage that,” I said grimly.  “I’ve had plenty of practice the last three years.”

With a swift, silent movement she came up to me and put her hands on my arm.  “You must trust me,” she said, speaking in that low passionate voice of hers.  “You know that I love you; you know that I am only waiting for the right time to act.  When it comes I will give you a chance such as few men have had—­a chance that will mean wealth and freedom and—­and—­love.”  She breathed out the last word almost in a whisper, and then, raising her hands to my shoulders, drew down my face and pressed her lips to mine.

I have no dislike to being kissed by a beautiful woman; indeed, on the previous occasion when Sonia had so honoured me I had distinctly enjoyed the experience.  This time, however, I felt a trifle uncomfortable.  I had a kind of unpleasant sensation that somehow or other I was not quite playing the game.

Still, as I have said elsewhere, an escaped convict cannot afford to be too nice in his emotions, so I returned her kiss with the same readiness and warmth as I had done before.  Then, straightening myself, I unlaced her arms from my neck, and looked down smilingly into those strange dark eyes that were turned up to mine.

“I’m a poor sort of host,” I said, “but you see I am a little out of training.  Won’t you have some tea or anything, Sonia?”

“No, no,” she answered quickly.  “I don’t want anything.  I must go in a minute; I have to meet my father with the car.”  Then, taking my hand between hers, she added:  “Tell me what you have been doing yourself.  Have you seen your cousin—­the man who lied about you at the trial?  I have been afraid about him; I have been afraid that you would kill him and perhaps be found out.”