Free Red Shadow by Patricia Wentworth Page B

have never met. After much thought I decided against any personal contact. I did not wish to be biased by personal affection. In fact, my dear, I decided that it would be very easy to love you—and love is a disturbing factor, to the absence of which I have for many years accustomed myself.
    Do not read the enclosure until you are quite alone.
    God bless you, Laura.
    B ERTRAM H ALLINGDON .
    A faint steady colour came into Laura’s cheeks as she read. Something in her rose to meet Bertram Hallingdon’s trust. The reference to Jim Mackenzie stabbed deep, but the very pain of it helped to rouse her. Since these great responsibilities were laid upon her, she must carry them; and if she must carry them alone, she would need all her courage and all her strength. At the call, courage and strength began to rise. She had lain prostrate because, having made her sacrifice, there was no more that she could do. She had come to the foot of a frowning wall and there sunk down. Now, with a vehement grating of hinges, a door had opened in the wall, and all at once she was on her feet again and ready to go forward.
    She read the letter again, and then, with the enclosure in her hand, looked anxiously at the clock on the chest of drawers. It was twenty past three. Catherine would not come near her till four at the very earliest. Bertram Hallingdon had said that she must read the enclosure when she was alone. She was alone now.
    She opened the envelope, and there fell out a small thin packet wrapped in green oiled silk and fastened with a cord and sealing-wax. Laura broke the seal and undid the cord. When she had opened the packet, she found that it contained a small envelope and three sheets of paper folded separately. She picked up the first sheet that came to hand, and found it covered with Bertram Hallingdon’s writing. She straightened the sheet and read:
    My dear Laura,
    When I wrote in the letter which you will have read already that I was leaving the peace of the world in your hands, you probably discounted the statement as a mere picturesque phrase. I used it because I wished to strike your imagination and to set you thinking. But it was more than a phrase. It has a basis in fact.
    I am now going to tell you something that has never been public property. During the autumn of 1917 and the early months of 1918 the Government was earnestly seeking for something which would be a decisive factor in bringing the war to an end. To this end a number of confidential experiments were carried out. One series of experiments concerned what was known as the Sanquhar invention. The experiments carried convincing proof that the Sanquhar invention would give to the country employing it an overwhelming and decisive advantage. I do not propose to indicate the nature of this invention. You must take my word for it that the effect would have been staggering. But on the very eve of success a terrible disaster occurred. An explosion took place in which Mr Sanquhar himself, together with his two assistants, several mechanics, and three highly placed officers of the Navy, Army, and Air Force all lost their lives. A fire followed the explosion, wrecking the plant and destroying—as it was believed—Mr Sanquhar’s notes, plans, and formulæ. No one survived who possessed sufficient knowledge to enable the invention to be reconstituted. Fresh experiments yielded nothing. A few months later the war ended.
    The papers were, however, not destroyed. They were stolen. I have reason to believe that the explosion was designed to cover the theft. After the Armistice they were offered to me for sale in circumstances into which I do not propose to enter. I was, and am, determined that the Sanquhar invention shall not be thrown into the arena where armament contends with armament and each lethal invention provokes another still more deadly. At the same time, I dare not destroy what might prove the salvation of my country in a time of danger. It