his victim and his confederate. Why? Did he distrust the latter? Again, why?
If "Karl" had been the thief, it must have been after Lanyard's return, and while the Baron was preoccupied with the task of keeping the prisoner quiet, to let the search proceed.
In that event "Karl" had lied deliberately to his superior. Why? Because the document was salable, and "Karl" intended to realize its value for his personal benefit?
Not an unlikely explanation. Nor could this be called the first instance in which the Prussian spy system, admirably organized though it was, had been betrayed by one of its own agents.
This hypothesis, too, accounted for that most perplexing circumstance of all, the murder of Baron von Harden. For Lanyard was fully persuaded that had been nothing less than premeditated murder, in no way an accident of faulty aim. Even the most nervous and unstrung man could hardly have missed six shots out of seven, point blank. A nervous man, indeed, could hardly have gained his own consent to take so hideous a chance of injuring or killing a collaborator.
It appeared, then, that one of four things had happened to the cylinder of paper:
Miss Brooke had taken it back into her own care. In which case Lanyard was no more concerned.
Captain Osborne had secured it through Mr. Warde. This, however, Lanyard did not seriously credit.
It had gone to the bottom when the Assyrian sank with the body—among others—of Baron von Harden.
