Van Heerden nodded, tore open the envelope and read the half a dozen lines.
"The test-word is 'Breslau,'" he said in a low voice, and the messenger beamed.
"I have the honour to convey to you the word." He whispered something in van Heerden's ear and Milsom, who did not understand German very well and had been trying to pick up a word or two, saw the look of exultation that came to the doctor's face.
He leapt back and threw out his arms, and his strong voice rang with the words which the German hymnal has made famous:
"Gott sei Dank durch alle Welt, Gott sei Dank durch alle Welt!"
"What are you thanking God about?" asked Milsom.
"It's come, it's come!" cried van Heerden, his eyes ablaze. "The Government is with me; behind me, my beautiful country. Oh, Gott sei Dank!"
A young man stood looking through the open door.
"The parson, yes," said van Heerden, "there's no need for it, but we'll have this wedding. Yes, we'll have it! Come in, sir."
He was almost boyishly jovial. Milsom had never seen him like that before.
"I am sorry to hear your fiancée is ill," said the curate.
"Yes, yes, but that will not hinder the ceremony. I'll go myself and prepare her."
Milsom had walked round the table to the window, and it was he who checked the doctor as he was leaving the room.
Van Heerden detected a strain of anxiety in the other's voice.
They stood by the window and listened intently.
"Come with me," said the doctor, and he walked noiselessly and ascended the stairs, followed more slowly by his heavier companion.
A quarter of a mile from Deans Folly a motor-car was halted on the side of a hill overlooking the valley in which van Heerden's house was set.
"That's the house," said Beale, consulting the map, "and that wall that runs along the road is the wall the tramp described."
"You seem to put a lot of faith in the statement of a man suffering from delirium tremens," said Parson Homo dryly.
"He was not suffering from delirium tremens this morning. You didn't see him?"
"I was in London fixing the preliminaries of your nuptials," he said sarcastically. "It may be the house," he admitted; "where is the entrance?"
"There's a road midway between here and the river and a private road leading off," said Beale; "the gate, I presume, is hidden somewhere in those bushes."