Evans, who had come with them, leaving Clydesly on guard in the other suite, obeyed. Presently he raised his head from the telephone.
“An invalid French lad, M. Paul de Varez. He had a Hospital Nurse with him. They left this morning.”
An exclamation burst from the other Secret Service man, the waiter. He had gone deathly pale.
“The invalid boy—the Hospital Nurse,” he stammered. “I—they passed me in the passage. I never dreamed—I had seen them so often before.”
“Are you sure they were the same?” cried Mr. Carter. “Are you sure, man? You looked at them well?”
The man shook his head.
“I hardly glanced at them. I was waiting, you understand, on the alert for the others, the man with the fair beard and the girl.”
“Of course,” said Mr. Carter, with a groan. “They counted on that.”
With a sudden exclamation, Tommy stooped down and pulled something out from under the sofa. It was a small rolled up bundle of black. Tommy unrolled it and several articles fell out. The outside wrapper was the long black coat Tuppence had worn that day. Inside was her walking dress, her hat and a long fair beard.
“It’s clear enough now,” he said bitterly. “They’ve got her—got Tuppence. That Russian devil has given us the slip. The Hospital Nurse and the boy were accomplices. They stayed here for a day or two to get the Hotel people accustomed to their presence. The man must have realised at lunch that he was trapped and proceeded to carry out his plan. Probably he counted on the room next door being empty since it was when he fixed the bolts. Anyway he managed to silence both the woman