THE YELLOW DOVE
“No. Worse.”
“What?”
“In prison. He was taken into custody yesterday afternoon as he was leaving the War Office. Orders from ‘K.’”
“You can’t mean that Richard Byfield is”
Sandys nodded quickly.
“Yes. He was one of the leaks—a spy.”
“A spy!” Betty Heathcote whispered in awestricken tones. “A spy—Dick! Horrible! I can’t—I won’t”
“Unfortunately there’s not the least doubt about it. They found incriminating evidence at his rooms.”
“My God!” said Lady Heathcote. “What are we coming to? Dick Byfield—why, two nights ago he was a guest at my table—with you, and you”
Doris nodded faintly, the landscape swimming in a dark mist before her eyes. Byfield—Cyril—Rizzio—all three had been at Lady Heathcote’s dinner. Something had happened that night—only a part of which she knew. Byfield was arrested—and Cyril She clutched desperately at the edge of the seat and set her jaw to keep herself from speaking Cyril’s name.
“Were there—any others?” she asked, with an effort.
“None so far. But there must have been others. God help them! They won’t get any mercy.”
“But what made him do such a thing?” asked Betty. “I could have sworn”
“Money—lots of it. He wasn’t very well off, you know.”
They were swinging over the ridge towards Kilmo-
64
