“We’re up a tree!” interposed Mr. Dodge.

“The injury is serious, then?” I asked.

“What injury?”

“The bullet wound.”

“Oh, that!” cried Mr. Dodge contemptuously. “That’s old history.”

“As my colleague says,” continued Lord Estair, “that affair is over and done with. Luckily, it failed. I wished I could say as much for the second attempt.”

“There has been a second attempt, then?”

“Yes, though not of the same nature. Monsieur Poirot, the Prime Minister has disappeared.”

“What?”