Saint laughed quietly; but it was a rather thoughtful kind of laugh. 'Damn it, that was less than a month ago.'
'Is that all?' she said. 'It seems ever so much longer than that. Just think—only a month ago everything was ordinary, if you know what I mean. John and Ralph and Luker were alive, and General Sangore . . . Why do you think General Sangore shot himself?'
'I suppose he thought it was the best way out for him,' said the Saint soberly. 'Probably he wasn't so far wrong at that. Anyway, let's drink to him.'
He raised his glass.
She looked at him curiously.
'It's funny that you should do that,' she said.
'Is it? I don't think so. We shouldn't be having this drink together now if it hadn't been for him.'
'I don't understand.'
'Don't you? I thought perhaps you might. But haven't you ever wondered why all those policemen poured into that cellar in the nick of time, just like the last instalment of a Pearl White serial?'
'Well, I heard what Senappe said. He got a message from you.'
'How do you think he got it?'
'I don't know. I never really thought about it. But I suppose you did one of those frightfully clever things that you're famous for and got it to him somehow. Anyway your friend Peter and that Mr Uniatz were there, so I knew everything was all right, and all I can say is I thought it was pretty mean of you to keep it up your sleeve and let me go through that perfectly paralyzing emotional orgy—'
'I didn't put you through any emotional orgy,' he said steadily. 'You see, I never sent anybody any message.'
She stared at him.
'You never——'
'Of course not. If you think a bit, you'll see that I never had the chance to.'
'Then——'
'Sangore sent it.'
Her face was blank almost to incredulity.
'But——'
'I know all the buts, darling. And I don't suppose I shall ever know much more. I can only imagine that when Luker told the others exactly what was meant to happen to us, and even had the nerve to tell Sangore that we were being stored at Bledford Manor—that's where we spent half the night, if you didn't know it—it was a bit too much even for Sangore to swallow. The Old School Tie rose up and pointed accusing fingers at him, if you can follow the metaphor.'
The Saint's flippancy was only in his words. His voice was not flippant and his eyes were very clear and unlaughing.
'Anyway, I only know what happened. Sangore rang up Peter at the Raphael that night. It must have been some time after we were taken away from Bledford. He told him what had happened to us, and where we were being taken, and what was going to happen to us, and all about the secret way into the Sons of France's headquarters, through the back of a cheap cafe a couple of blocks away. And he told him all about the plot against Chaulage and the rest of it, and gave him enough dope to make the police sit up and take notice. It was Sangore who told him to go to the prefecture. It was about the one thing that convinced Peter that the whole thing wasn't a trap. Peter was in a pretty tough spot, but he knew that he couldn't hope to take over that headquarters
