Prelude For War

glancing around him fur­tively as if he feared being overheard.

'There's something I—I must tell you before he comes,' he said in a stage whisper. 'We ... I mean, there's good reason to suspect that Lady Valerie is working with that man Templar against our interests, and unless something is done at once the position may become serious.'

'So that's what it is,' said Lady Sangore magisterially. 'And what's Mr Luker going to do about it? The girl ought to be whipped, that's what I've always said.'

Fairweather dropped his voice even lower.

'Last night he—he practically told me he meant to have both of them murdered.'

'Good God !' exclaimed General Sangore in a scanda­lized voice. 'But that's ridiculous—absurd! Why, she belongs to one of the best families in England!' He glared about him indignantly. 'It's that bounder Templar who's led her astray. He ought to be severely dealt with. Dammit, if I'd ever had him in my regiment . . .'

He broke off as Luker appeared in the doorway.

Luker stood there for a moment and looked at them one by one. He did not seem in the least disturbed. Perhaps a faint flicker of surprise crossed his face when he saw that Lady Sangore was present, but he made no comment. His dark, well-tailored suit fitted him like a cloth covering squeezed over a marble figure; he looked harder and stonier than ever, as though he would wear it out from the inside. His square rugged features had the insensitive strength of the same stone.

He moved deliberately across the room to his enormous desk, sat down in the swivel chair behind it and faced them with almost taunting expectancy. They looked at each other and avoided his eyes, subdued in spite of themselves into hoping that somebody else would give them a lead.

General Sangore was the first to let himself go.

'What's this story of Fairweather's that you're planning to murder Lady Valerie Woodchester ?' he blurted out.

Luker inclined his head unimpressionably.

'So you have heard? That will save some explanations. Yes, it has become very necessary that she and Templar should be eliminated. That is why I sent for you this eve­ning.'

'Well, if you think we're going to take part in any damned murder plots, you're damned well mistaken,' stated General Sangore hotly. 'I never heard of such—such infer­nal impudence in my life!'

He glanced at his wife as if for approval. Lady Sangore's lips were tightly compressed; her eyes were glittering.

'That girl ought to be well whipped,' she repeated.

Luker stroked his chin thoughtfully. His manner was mild and patient. He spoke in the calm and reasonable tone of a man who states facts that cannot be disputed.

'I fear that whipping would scarcely be sufficient,' he remarked. 'We are not playing schoolroom games. Let me remind you of the circumstances. All of you are aware, I believe, that the French patriots have planned a coup d'etat for tomorrow which if it is resisted may lead to a Fascist revolution.'

His gaze passed questioningly over them and arrived last at Fairweather. Fairweather dithered.

'Yes . . . That is, I may have heard rumours of it. I know nothing about it officially.'

'During this change of governments a number of people will quite definitely be