'And apparently the lady wrote down this message giving you away,' remarked Barton.
'Somebody wrote it—but it certainly is not her handwriting.'
'Quite so. Spies frequently get other persons to copy their messages in order that they can disclaim them,' replied the Intelligence officer. 'We've had several such cases before us of late.'
His words aroused my anger bitterly. That Roseye had held any communication with the enemy I absolutely refused to believe. Such suggestion was perfectly monstrous!
Yet how was it possible that anyone should know of the success of our experiments at Gunnersbury?
Recollection of that well-remembered night when Teddy had declared there had been strangers prowling about, flashed across my mind.
I knew, too well, that the evil that had befallen me, as well as the disappearance of my well-beloved, had been the work of the Invisible Hand—that dastardly, baneful influence that had wrecked my machine and nearly hurled me to the grave.
'Well,' I said at last, 'I would much like a copy of this remarkable document.'
'I fear that I cannot give it to you, Mr. Munro,' was the captain's slow reply. 'At present it is a confidential matter, concerning only the Department, and the person in whose possession it was.'
'We must find that person,' I said resolutely. 'What is your theory regarding Miss Lethmere?' I asked, turning to Barton.
'Well, Mr. Munro, it would appear that either the lady herself, or some thief, threw the chatelaine
