The two men stepped back into the hotel. The cashier had returned to his desk, and the incident which had just transpired seemed to have passed unnoticed. Nevertheless, Laverick felt that the studied indifference of his companion's manner had its significance, and he endeavored to imitate it.
"Shall we go through into the bar?" he asked. "There's very seldom any one there at this time."
"Anywhere you say," Bellamy answered. "It's years since we had a drink together."
They passed into the inner room and, finding it empty, drew two chairs into the further corner. Bellamy summoned the waiter.
"Two whiskies and sodas quick, Tim," he ordered. "Now, Laverick, listen to me," he added, as the waiter turned away. "We are alone for the moment but it won't be for long. You know very well that it wasn't to renew our schoolboy acquaintance that I've asked you to come in here with me."
Laverick drew a little breath.
"Please go on," he said. "I am as anxious as you can be to grasp this affair properly."
"When we left school," Bellamy remarked, "you were destined for the Stock Exchange. I went first to Magdalen. Did you ever hear what became of me afterwards?"
"I always understood," Laverick answered, "that you went into one of the Government offices."
"Quite right," Bellamy assented. "I did. At this moment I have the honor to serve His Majesty."
"Two thousand a year and two hours work a day," Laverick laughed. "I know the sort of thing."
"You evidently don't," Bellamy answered. "I often work twenty hours a day, I don't get half two thousand a year, and most of the time I carry my life in my hands. When I am working--and I am working now--I am never sure of the morrow."
Laverick looked at him incredulously.
"You're not joking, Bellamy?" he asked.
"Not by any manner of means. I have the honor to be a humble member of His Majesty's Secret Service."
Laverick glanced at his companion wonderingly.
"I really didn't know," he said, "that such a service had any actual existence except in novels."
"I am a proof to the contrary," Bellamy declared grimly. "Abroad, I run always the risk of being dubbed a spy and treated like one. At home, I am simply the head of the A2 Branch of the Secret Service. Here come our drinks."
Laverick raised his whiskey and soda to his lips mechanically.
"Here's luck!" he exclaimed. "Now go on, Bellamy," he continued. "The waiter can't overhear."
Bellamy smiled.
"Tim is one of the few persons in the place," he said, "whom one can trust. As a matter of fact, he has been very useful to me more than once. Now listen to me attentively, Laverick. I am going to speak to you as one man to another."