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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Yellow Crayon, by E. Phillips Oppenheim
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Yellow Crayon
+
+Author: E. Phillips Oppenheim
+
+Posting Date: November 25, 2008 [EBook #1849]
+Release Date: August, 1999
+Last Updated: October 11, 2016
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE YELLOW CRAYON ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by An Anonymous Project Gutenberg Volunteer
+
+
+
+
+
+THE YELLOW CRAYON
+
+By E. Phillips Oppenheim
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+It was late summer-time, and the perfume of flowers stole into the
+darkened room through the half-opened window. The sunlight forced its
+way through a chink in the blind, and stretched across the floor in
+strange zigzag fashion. From without came the pleasant murmur of bees
+and many lazier insects floating over the gorgeous flower beds, resting
+for a while on the clematis which had made the piazza a blaze of purple
+splendour. And inside, in a high-backed chair, there sat a man, his arms
+folded, his eyes fixed steadily upon vacancy. As he sat then, so had he
+sat for a whole day and a whole night. The faint sweet chorus of glad
+living things, which alone broke the deep silence of the house, seemed
+neither to disturb nor interest him. He sat there like a man turned to
+stone, his forehead riven by one deep line, his straight firm mouth set
+close and hard. His servant, the only living being who had approached
+him, had set food by his side, which now and then he had mechanically
+taken. Changeless as a sphinx, he had sat there in darkness and in
+light, whilst sunlight had changed to moonlight, and the songs of the
+birds had given place to the low murmuring of frogs from a lake below
+the lawns.
+
+At last it seemed that his unnatural fit had passed away. He stretched
+out his hand and struck a silver gong which had been left within his
+reach. Almost immediately a man, pale-faced, with full dark eyes and
+olive complexion, dressed in the sombre garb of an indoor servant, stood
+at his elbow.
+
+“Duson.”
+
+“Your Grace!”
+
+“Bring wine--Burgundy.”
+
+It was before him, served with almost incredible despatch--a small
+cobwebbed bottle and a glass of quaint shape, on which were beautifully
+emblazoned a coronet and fleur-de-lis. He drank slowly and deliberately.
+When he set the glass down it was empty.
+
+“Duson!”
+
+“Your Grace!”
+
+“You will pack my things and your own. We shall leave for New York this
+evening. Telegraph to the Holland House for rooms.”
+
+“For how many days, your Grace?”
+
+“We shall not return here. Pay off all the servants save two of the most
+trustworthy, who will remain as caretakers.”
+
+The man’s face was as immovable as his master’s.
+
+“And Madame?”
+
+“Madame will not be returning. She will have no further use for her
+maid. See, however, that her clothes and all her personal belongings
+remain absolutely undisturbed.”
+
+“Has your Grace any further orders?”
+
+“Take pencil and paper. Send this cablegram. Are you ready?”
+
+The man’s head moved in respectful assent.
+
+     “To Felix,
+       “No 27, Rue de St.  Pierre,
+         “Avenue de L’Opera, Paris.
+    “Meet me at Sherry’s Restaurant, New York, one month to-day, eleven
+     p.m.--V.  S.”
+
+“It shall be sent immediately, your Grace. The train for New York leaves
+at seven-ten. A carriage will be here in one hour and five minutes.”
+
+The man moved towards the door. His master looked up.
+
+“Duson!”
+
+“Your Grace!”
+
+“The Duc de Souspennier remains here--or at the bottom of the lake--what
+matters! It is Mr. Sabin who travels to New York, and for whom you
+engage rooms at the Holland House. Mr. Sabin is a cosmopolitan of
+English proclivities.”
+
+“Very good, sir!”
+
+“Lock this door. Bring my coat and hat five minutes before the carriage
+starts. Let the servants be well paid. Let none of them attempt to see
+me.”
+
+The man bowed and disappeared. Left to himself, Mr. Sabin rose from his
+chair, and pushing open the windows, stood upon the verandah. He leaned
+heavily upon his stick with both hands, holding it before him. Slowly
+his eyes traveled over the landscape.
+
+It was a very beautiful home which he was leaving. Before him stretched
+the gardens--Italian in design, brilliant with flowers, with here and
+there a dark cedar-tree drooping low upon the lawn. A yew hedge bordered
+the rose-garden, a fountain was playing in the middle of a lake. A
+wooden fence encircled the grounds, and beyond was a smooth rolling
+park, with little belts of pine plantations and a few larger trees here
+and there. In the far distance the red flag was waving on one of the
+putting greens. Archie Green was strolling up the hillside,--his pipe
+in his mouth, and his driver under his arm. Mr. Sabin watched, and the
+lines in his face grew deeper and deeper.
+
+“I am an old man,” he said softly, “but I will live to see them suffer
+who have done this evil thing.”
+
+He turned slowly back into the room, and limping rather more than was
+usual with him, he pushed aside a portiere and passed into a charmingly
+furnished country drawing-room. Only the flowers hung dead in their
+vases; everything else was fresh and sweet and dainty. Slowly he
+threaded his way amongst the elegant Louis Quinze furniture, examining
+as though for the first time the beautiful old tapestry, the Sevres
+china, the Chippendale table, which was priceless, the exquisite
+portraits painted by Greuze, and the mysterious green twilights and
+grey dawns of Corot. Everywhere treasures of art, yet everywhere the
+restraining hand of the artist. The faint smell of dead rose leaves hung
+about the room. Already one seemed conscious of a certain emptiness as
+though the genius of the place had gone. Mr. Sabin leaned heavily upon
+his stick, and his head drooped lower and lower. A soft, respectful
+voice came to him from the other room.
+
+“In five minutes, sir, the carriage will be at the door. I have your
+coat and hat here.”
+
+Mr. Sabin looked up.
+
+“I am quite ready, Duson!” he said.
+
+      *           *           *           *           *
+
+The servants in the hall stood respectfully aside to let him pass. On
+the way to the depot he saw nothing of those who saluted him. In the car
+he sat with folded arms in the most retired seat, looking steadfastly
+out of the window at the dying day. There were mountains away westwards,
+touched with golden light; sometimes for long minutes together the train
+was rushing through forests whose darkness was like that of a tunnel.
+Mr. Sabin seemed indifferent to these changes. The coming of night did
+not disturb him. His brain was at work, and the things which he saw were
+hidden from other men.
+
+Duson, with a murmur of apology, broke in upon his meditations.
+
+“You will pardon me, sir, but the second dinner is now being served. The
+restaurant car will be detached at the next stop.”
+
+“What of it?” Mr. Sabin asked calmly.
+
+“I have taken the liberty of ordering dinner for you, sir. It is thirty
+hours since you ate anything save biscuits.”
+
+Mr. Sabin rose to his feet.
+
+“You are quite right, Duson,” he said. “I will dine.”
+
+In half-an-hour he was back again. Duson placed before him silently a
+box of cigarettes and matches. Mr. Sabin smoked.
+
+Soon the lights of the great city flared in the sky, the train stopped
+more frequently, the express men and newspaper boys came into evidence.
+Mr. Sabin awoke from his long spell of thought. He bought a newspaper,
+and glanced through the list of steamers which had sailed during the
+week. When the train glided into the depot he was on his feet and ready
+to leave it.
+
+“You will reserve our rooms, Duson, for one month,” he said on the way
+to the hotel. “We shall probably leave for Europe a month to-morrow.”
+
+“Very good, sir.”
+
+“You were Mrs. Peterson’s servant, Duson, before you were mine!”
+
+“Yes, sir.”
+
+“You have been with her, I believe, for many years. You are doubtless
+much attached to her!”
+
+“Indeed I am, sir!”
+
+“You may have surmised, Duson, that she has left me. I desire to ensure
+your absolute fidelity, so I take you into my confidence to this extent.
+Your mistress is in the hands of those who have some power over her. Her
+absence is involuntary so far as she is concerned. It has been a great
+blow to me. I am prepared to run all risks to discover her whereabouts.
+It is late in my life for adventures, but it is very certain that
+adventures and dangers are before us. In accompanying me you will
+associate yourself with many risks. Therefore--”
+
+Duson held up his hand.
+
+“I beg, sir,” he exclaimed, “that you will not suggest for a moment my
+leaving your service on that account. I beg most humbly, sir, that you
+will not do me that injustice.”
+
+Mr. Sabin paused. His eyes, like lightning, read the other’s face.
+
+“It is settled then, Duson,” he said. “Kindly pay this cabman, and
+follow me as quickly as possible.”
+
+Mr. Sabin passed across the marble hall, leaning heavily upon his stick.
+Yet for all his slow movements there was a new alertness in his eyes and
+bearing. He was once more taking keen note of everybody and everything
+about him. Only a few days ago she had been here.
+
+He claimed his rooms at the office, and handed the keys to Duson, who by
+this time had rejoined him. At the moment of turning away he addressed
+an inquiry to the clerk behind the counter.
+
+“Can you tell me if the Duchess of Souspennier is staying here?” he
+inquired.
+
+The young man glanced up.
+
+“Been here, I guess. Left on Tuesday.”
+
+Mr. Sabin turned away. He did not speak again until Duson and he were
+alone in the sitting-room. Then he drew out a five dollar bill.
+
+“Duson,” he said, “take this to the head luggage porter. Tell him to
+bring his departure book up here at once, and there is another waiting
+for him. You understand?”
+
+“Certainly, sir!”
+
+Mr. Sabin turned to enter his bed-chamber. His attention was attracted,
+however, by a letter lying flat upon the table. He took it up. It was
+addressed to Mr. Sabin.
+
+“This is very clever,” he mused, hesitating for a moment before opening
+it. “I wired for rooms only a few hours ago--and I find a letter. It is
+the commencement.”
+
+He tore open the envelope, and drew out a single half-sheet of
+note-paper. Across it was scrawled a single sentence only.
+
+“Go back to Lenox.”
+
+There was no signature, nor any date. The only noticeable thing about
+this brief communication was that it was written in yellow pencil of a
+peculiar shade. Mr. Sabin’s eyes glittered as he read.
+
+“The yellow crayon!” he muttered.
+
+Duson knocked softly at the door. Mr. Sabin thrust the letter and
+envelope into his breast coat pocket.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+“This is the luggage porter, sir,” Duson announced. “He is prepared to
+answer any questions.”
+
+The man took out his book. Mr. Sabin, who was sitting in an easy-chair,
+turned sideways towards him.
+
+“The Duchess of Souspennier was staying here last week,” he said. “She
+left, I believe, on Thursday or Friday. Can you tell me whether her
+baggage went through your hands?”
+
+The man set down his hat upon a vacant chair, and turned over the leaves
+of his book.
+
+“Guess I can fix that for you,” he remarked, running his forefinger
+down one of the pages. “Here we are. The Duchess left on Friday, and
+we checked her baggage through to Lenox by the New York, New Haven &
+Hartford.”
+
+Mr. Sabin nodded.
+
+“Thank you,” he said. “She would probably take a carriage to the
+station. It will be worth another ten dollars to you if you can find me
+the man who drove her.”
+
+“Well, we ought to manage that for you,” the man remarked encouragingly.
+“It was one of Steve Hassell’s carriages, I guess, unless the lady took
+a hansom.”
+
+“Very good,” Mr. Sabin said. “See if you can find him. Keep my inquiries
+entirely to yourself. It will pay you.”
+
+“That’s all right,” the man remarked. “Don’t you go to bed for
+half-an-hour, and I guess you’ll hear from me again.”
+
+Duson busied himself in the bed-chamber, Mr. Sabin sat motionless in
+his easy chair. Soon there came a tap at the door. The porter reappeared
+ushering in a smart-looking young man, who carried a shiny coachman’s
+hat in his hand.
+
+“Struck it right fust time,” the porter remarked cheerfully. “This is
+the man, sir.”
+
+Mr. Sabin turned his head.
+
+“You drove a lady from here to the New York, New Haven & Hartford Depot
+last Friday?” he asked.
+
+“Well, not exactly, sir,” the man answered. “The Duchess took my cab,
+and the first address she gave was the New York, New Haven &
+Hartford Depot, but before we’d driven a hundred yards she pulled the
+check-string and ordered me to go to the Waldorf. She paid me there, and
+went into the hotel.”
+
+“You have not seen her since?”
+
+“No, sir!”
+
+“You knew her by sight, you say. Was there anything special about her
+appearance?”
+
+The man hesitated.
+
+“She’d a pretty thick veil on, sir, but she raised it to pay me, and I
+should say she’d been crying. She was much paler, too, than last time I
+drove her.”
+
+“When was that?” Mr. Sabin asked.
+
+“In the spring, sir,--with you, begging your pardon. You were at the
+Netherlands, and I drove you out several times.”
+
+“You seem,” Mr. Sabin said, “to be a person with some powers of
+observation. It would pay you very well indeed if you would ascertain
+from any of your mates at the Waldorf when and with whom the lady in
+question left that hotel.”
+
+“I’ll have a try, sir,” the man answered. “The Duchess was better known
+here, but some of them may have recognised her.”
+
+“She had no luggage, I presume?” Mr. Sabin asked.
+
+“Her dressing-case and jewel-case only, sir.”
+
+“So you see,” Mr. Sabin continued, “it is probable that she did not
+remain at the Waldorf for the night. Base your inquiries on that
+supposition.”
+
+“Very good, sir.”
+
+“From your manners and speech,” Mr. Sabin said, raising his head, “I
+should take you to be an Englishman.”
+
+“Quite correct, sir,” the man answered. “I drove a hansom in London for
+eight years.”
+
+“You will understand me then,” Mr. Sabin continued, “when I say that I
+have no great confidence in the police of this country. I do not wish
+to be blackmailed or bullied. I would ask you, therefore, to make your
+inquiries with discretion.”
+
+“I’ll be careful, sir,” the man answered.
+
+Mr. Sabin handed to each of them a roll of notes. The cabdriver lingered
+upon the threshold. Mr. Sabin looked up.
+
+“Well?”
+
+“Could I speak a word to you--in private, sir?”
+
+Mr. Sabin motioned Duson to leave the room. The baggage porter had
+already departed.
+
+“When I cleaned out my cab at night, sir, I found this. I didn’t reckon
+it was of any consequence at first, but from the questions you have been
+asking it may be useful to you.”
+
+Mr. Sabin took the half-sheet of note-paper in silence. It was the
+ordinary stationery of the Waldorf Astoria Hotel, and the following
+words were written upon it in a faint delicate handwriting, but in
+yellow pencil:--
+
+                                                  “Sept.  10th.
+  “To LUCILLE, Duchesse de SOUSPENNIER.--
+  “You will be at the Waldorf Astoria Hotel in the main corridor
+   at four o’clock this afternoon.”
+
+The thin paper shook in Mr. Sabin’s fingers. There was no signature,
+but he fancied that the handwriting was not wholly unfamiliar to him. He
+looked slowly up towards the cabman.
+
+“I am much obliged to you,” he said. “This is of interest to me.”
+
+He stretched out his hand to the little wad of notes which Duson had
+left upon the table, but the cabdriver backed away.
+
+“Beg pardon, sir,” he said. “You’ve given me plenty. The letter’s of no
+value to me. I came very near tearing it up, but for the peculiar colour
+pencil it’s written with. Kinder took my fancy, sir.”
+
+“The letter is of value,” Mr. Sabin said. “It tells me much more than I
+hoped to discover. It is our good fortune.”
+
+The man accepted the little roll of bills and departed. Mr. Sabin
+touched the bell.
+
+“Duson, what time is it?”
+
+“Nearly midnight, sir!”
+
+“I will go to bed!”
+
+“Very good, sir!”
+
+“Mix me a sleeping draught, Duson. I need rest. See that I am not
+disturbed until ten o’clock to-morrow morning.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+At precisely ten o’clock on the following morning Duson brought
+chocolate, which he had prepared himself, and some dry toast to his
+master’s bedside. Upon the tray was a single letter. Mr. Sabin sat up in
+bed and tore open the envelope. The following words were written upon
+a sheet of the Holland House notepaper in the same peculiar coloured
+crayon.
+
+“The first warning addressed to you yesterday was a friendly one. Profit
+by it. Go back to Lenox. You are only exposing yourself to danger and
+the person you seek to discomfort. Wait there, and some one shall come
+to you shortly who will explain what has happened, and the necessity for
+it.”
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled, a slow contemplative smile. He sipped his chocolate
+and lit a cigarette.
+
+“Our friends, then,” he said softly, “do not care about pursuit and
+inquiries. It is ridiculous to suppose that their warning is given out
+of any consideration to me. Duson!”
+
+“Yes, sir!”
+
+“My bath. I shall rise now.”
+
+Mr. Sabin made his toilet with something of the same deliberation which
+characterised all his movements. Then he descended into the hall, bought
+a newspaper, and from a convenient easy-chair kept a close observation
+upon every one who passed to and fro for about an hour. Later on he
+ordered a carriage, and made several calls down town.
+
+At a few minutes past twelve he entered the bar of the Fifth Avenue
+Hotel, and ordering a drink sat down at one of the small tables. The
+room was full, but Mr. Sabin’s attention was directed solely to one
+group of men who stood a short distance away before the counter drinking
+champagne. The central person of the group was a big man, with an
+unusually large neck, a fat pale face, a brown moustache tinged with
+grey, and a voice and laugh like a fog-horn. It was he apparently who
+was paying for the champagne, and he was clearly on intimate terms with
+all the party. Mr. Sabin watched for his opportunity, and then rising
+from his seat touched him on the shoulder.
+
+“Mr. Skinner, I believe?” he said quietly.
+
+The big man looked down upon Mr. Sabin with the sullen offensiveness of
+the professional bully.
+
+“You’ve hit it first time,” he admitted. “Who are you, anyway?”
+
+Mr. Sabin produced a card.
+
+“I called this morning,” he said, “upon the gentleman whose name you
+will see there. He directed me to you, and told me to come here.”
+
+The man tore the card into small pieces.
+
+“So long, boys,” he said, addressing his late companions. “See you
+to-night.”
+
+They accepted his departure in silence, and one and all favoured Mr.
+Sabin with a stare of blatant curiosity.
+
+“I should be glad to speak with you,” Mr. Sabin said, “in a place where
+we are likely to be neither disturbed nor overheard.”
+
+“You come right across to my office,” was the prompt reply. “I guess we
+can fix it up there.”
+
+Mr. Sabin motioned to his coachman, and they crossed Broadway. His
+companion led him into a tall building, talking noisily all the time
+about the pals whom he had just left. An elevator transported them to
+the twelfth floor in little more than as many seconds, and Mr. Skinner
+ushered his visitor into a somewhat bare-looking office, smelling
+strongly of stale tobacco smoke. Mr. Skinner at once lit a cigar, and
+seating himself before his desk, folded his arms and leaned over towards
+Mr. Sabin.
+
+“Smoke one?” he asked, pointing to the open box.
+
+Mr. Sabin declined.
+
+“Get right ahead then.”
+
+“I am an Englishman,” Mr. Sabin said slowly, “and consequently am not
+altogether at home with your ways over here. I have always understood,
+however, that if you are in need of any special information such as we
+should in England apply to the police for, over here there is a quicker
+and more satisfactory method of procedure.”
+
+“You’ve come a long way round,” Mr. Skinner remarked, spitting upon the
+floor, “but you’re dead right.”
+
+“I am in need of some information,” Mr. Sabin continued, “and
+accordingly I called this morning on Mr.--”
+
+Mr. Skinner held up his hand.
+
+“All right,” he said. “We don’t mention names more than we can help.
+Call him the boss.”
+
+“He assured me that the information I was in need of was easily to be
+obtained, and gave me a card to you.”
+
+“Go right on,” Mr. Skinner said. “What is it?”
+
+“On Friday last,” Mr. Sabin said, “at four o’clock, the Duchess of
+Souspennier, whose picture I will presently show you, left the Holland
+House Hotel for the New York, New Haven & Hartford Depot, presumably for
+her home at Lenox, to which place her baggage had already been checked.
+On the way she ordered the cabman to set her down at the Waldorf-Astoria
+Hotel, which he did at a few minutes past four. The Duchess has not
+returned home or been directly heard from since. I wish to ascertain her
+movements since she arrived at the Waldorf.”
+
+“Sounds dead easy,” Mr. Skinner remarked reassuringly. “Got the
+picture?”
+
+Mr. Sabin touched the spring of a small gold locket which he drew
+from an inside waistcoat pocket, and disclosed a beautifully painted
+miniature. Mr. Skinner’s thick lips were pursed into a whistle. He
+was on the point of making a remark when he chanced to glance into Mr.
+Sabin’s face. The remark remained unspoken.
+
+He drew a sheet of note-paper towards him and made a few notes upon it.
+
+“The Duchess many friends in New York?”
+
+“At present none. The few people whom she knows here are at Newport or
+in Europe just now.”
+
+“Any idea whom she went to the Waldorf to see? More we know the better.”
+
+Mr. Sabin handed him the letter which had been picked up in the cab. Mr.
+Skinner read it through, and spat once more upon the floor.
+
+“What the h---‘s this funny coloured pencil mean?”
+
+“I do not know,” Mr. Sabin answered. “You will see that the two
+anonymous communications which I have received since arriving in New
+York yesterday are written in the same manner.”
+
+Mr. Sabin handed him the other two letters, which Mr. Skinner carefully
+perused.
+
+“I guess you’d better tell me who you are,” he suggested.
+
+“I am the husband of the Duchess of Souspennier,” Mr. Sabin answered.
+
+“The Duchess send any word home at all?” Mr. Skinner asked.
+
+Mr. Sabin produced a worn telegraph form. It was handed in at Fifth
+Avenue, New York, at six o’clock on Friday. It contained the single word
+‘Good-bye.’
+
+“H’m,” Mr. Skinner remarked. “We’ll find all you want to know by
+to-morrow sure.”
+
+“What do you make of the two letters which I received?” Mr. Sabin asked.
+
+“Bunkum!” Mr. Skinner replied confidently.
+
+Mr. Sabin nodded his head.
+
+“You have no secret societies over here, I suppose?” he said.
+
+Mr. Skinner laughed loudly and derisively.
+
+“I guess not,” he answered. “They keep that sort of rubbish on the other
+side of the pond.”
+
+“Ah!”
+
+Mr. Sabin was thoughtful for a moment. “You expect to find, then,” he
+remarked, “some other cause for my wife’s disappearance?”
+
+“There don’t seem much room for doubt concerning that, sir,” Mr. Skinner
+said; “but I never speculate. I will bring you the facts to-night
+between eight and eleven. Now as to the business side of it.”
+
+Mr. Sabin was for a moment puzzled.
+
+“What’s the job worth to you?” Mr. Skinner asked. “I am willing to pay,”
+ Mr. Sabin answered, “according to your demands.”
+
+“It’s a simple case,” Mr. Skinner admitted, “but our man at the Waldorf
+is expensive. If you get all your facts, I guess five hundred dollars
+will about see you through.”
+
+“I will pay that,” Mr. Sabin answered.
+
+“I will bring you the letters back to-night,” Mr. Skinner said. “I guess
+I’ll borrow that locket of yours, too.”
+
+Mr. Sabin shook his head.
+
+“That,” he said firmly, “I do not part with.” Mr. Skinner scratched his
+ear with his penholder. “It’s the only scrap of identifying matter
+we’ve got,” he remarked. “Of course it’s a dead simple case, and we can
+probably manage without it. But I guess it’s as well to fix the thing
+right down.”
+
+“If you will give me a piece of paper,” Mr. Sabin said, “I will make you
+a sketch of the Duchess. The larger the better. I can give you an idea
+of the sort of clothes she would probably be wearing.”
+
+Mr. Skinner furnished him with a double sheet of paper, and Mr. Sabin,
+with set face and unflinching figures, reproduced in a few simple
+strokes a wonderful likeness of the woman he loved. He pushed it away
+from him when he had finished without remark. Mr. Skinner was loud in
+its praises.
+
+“I guess you’re an artist, sir, for sure,” he remarked. “This’ll fix the
+thing. Shall I come to your hotel?”
+
+“If you please,” Mr. Sabin answered. “I shall be there for the rest of
+the day.”
+
+Mr. Skinner took up his hat.
+
+“Guess I’ll take my dinner and get right to work,” he remarked. “Say,
+you come along, Mr. Sabin. I’ll take you where they’ll fix you such a
+beefsteak as you never tasted in your life.”
+
+“I thank you very much,” Mr. Sabin said, “but I must beg to be excused.
+I am expecting some despatches at my hotel. If you are successful this
+afternoon you will perhaps do me the honour of dining with me to-night.
+I will wait until eight-thirty.”
+
+The two men parted upon the pavement. Mr. Skinner, with his small bowler
+hat on the back of his head, a fresh cigar in the corner of his mouth,
+and his thumbs in the armholes of his waistcoat, strolled along Broadway
+with something akin to a smile parting his lips, and showing his yellow
+teeth.
+
+“Darned old fool,” he muttered. “To marry a slap-up handsome woman like
+that, and then pretend not to know what it means when she bolts. Guess
+I’ll spoil his supper to-night.”
+
+Mr. Sabin, however, was recovering his spirits. He, too, was leaning
+back in the corner of his carriage with a faint smile brightening his
+hard, stern face. But, unlike Mr. Skinner, he did not talk to himself.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+R. Sabin, who was never, for its own sake, fond of solitude, had ordered
+dinner for two at eight-thirty in the general dining-room. At a few
+minutes previous to that hour Mr. Skinner presented himself.
+
+Mr. Skinner was not in the garb usually affected by men of the world
+who are invited to dine out. The long day’s exertion, too, had had its
+effect upon his linen. His front, indeed, through a broad gap,
+confessed to a foundation of blue, and one of his cuffs showed a marked
+inclination to escape from his wrist over his knuckles. His face
+was flushed, and he exhaled a strong odour of cigars and cocktails.
+Nevertheless, Mr. Sabin was very glad to see him, and to receive the
+folded sheet of paper which he at once produced.
+
+“I have taken the liberty,” Mr. Sabin remarked, on his part, “of adding
+a trifle to the amount we first spoke of, which I beg you will accept
+from me as a mark of my gratitude for your promptness.”
+
+“Sure!” Mr. Skinner answered tersely, receiving the little roll of
+bills without hesitation, and retreating into a quiet corner, where
+he carefully counted and examined every one. “That’s all right!” he
+announced at the conclusion of his task. “Come and have one with me now
+before you read your little billet-doux, eh?”
+
+“I shall not read your report until after dinner,” Mr. Sabin said,
+“and I think if you are ready that we might as well go in. At the
+head-waiter’s suggestion I have ordered a cocktail with the oysters,
+and if we are much later he seemed to fear that it might affect the
+condition of the--I think it was terrapin, he said.”
+
+Mr. Skinner stopped short. His tone betrayed emotion.
+
+“Did you say terrapin, sir?”
+
+Mr. Sabin nodded. Mr. Skinner at once took his arm.
+
+“Guess we’ll go right in,” he declared. “I hate to have a good meal
+spoiled.”
+
+They were an old-looking couple. Mr. Sabin quietly but faultlessly
+attired in the usual evening dinner garb, Mr. Skinner ill-dressed,
+untidy, unwashed and frowsy. But here at least Mr. Sabin’s incognito
+had been unavailing, for he had stayed at the hotel several times--as he
+remembered with an odd little pang--with Lucille, and the head-waiter,
+with a low bow, ushered them to their table. Mr. Skinner saw the
+preparations for their repast, the oysters, the cocktails in tall
+glasses, the magnum of champagne in ice, and chuckled. To take supper
+with a duke was a novelty to him, but he was not shy. He sat down and
+tucked his serviette into his waistcoat, raised his glass, and suddenly
+set it down again.
+
+“The boss!” he exclaimed in amazement.
+
+Mr. Sabin turned his head in the direction which his companion had
+indicated. Coming hastily across the room towards them, already out of
+breath as though with much hurrying, was a thick-set, powerful man, with
+the brutal face and coarse lips of a prizefighter; a beard cropped so
+short as to seem the growth of a few days only covered his chin, and his
+moustache, treated in the same way, was not thick enough to conceal
+a cruel mouth. He was carefully enough dressed, and a great diamond
+flashed from his tie. There was a red mark round his forehead where his
+hat had been, and the perspiration was streaming from his forehead. He
+strode without hesitation to the table where Mr. Sabin and his guest
+were sitting, and without even a glance at the former turned upon his
+myrmidon.
+
+“Where’s that report?” he cried roughly. “Where is it?”
+
+Mr. Skinner seemed to have shrunk into a smaller man. He pointed across
+the table.
+
+“I’ve given it to him,” he said. “What’s wrong, boss?”
+
+The newcomer raised his hand as though to strike Skinner. He gnashed his
+teeth with the effort to control himself.
+
+“You damned blithering idiot,” he said hoarsely, gripping the side of
+the table. “Why wasn’t it presented to me first?”
+
+“Guess it didn’t seem worth while,” Skinner answered. “There’s nothing
+in the darned thing.”
+
+“You ignorant fool, hold your tongue,” was the fierce reply.
+
+The newcomer sank into a chair and wiped the perspiration from his
+streaming forehead. Mr. Sabin signaled to a waiter.
+
+“You seem upset, Mr. Horser,” he remarked politely. “Allow me to offer
+you a glass of wine.”
+
+Mr. Horser did not immediately reply, but he accepted the glass which
+the waiter brought him, and after a moment’s hesitation drained its
+contents. Then he turned to Mr. Sabin.
+
+“You said nothing about those letters you had had when you came to see
+me this morning!”
+
+“It was you yourself,” Mr. Sabin reminded him, “who begged me not
+to enter into particulars. You sent me on to Mr. Skinner. I told him
+everything.”
+
+Mr. Horser leaned over the table. His eyes were bloodshot, his tone was
+fierce and threatening. Mr. Sabin was coldly courteous. The difference
+between the demeanour of the two men was remarkable.
+
+“You knew what those letters meant! This is a plot! Where is Skinner’s
+report?”
+
+Mr. Sabin raised his eyebrows. He signaled to the head-waiter.
+
+“Be so good as to continue the service of my dinner,” he ordered. “The
+champagne is a trifle too chilled. You can take it out of the cooler.”
+
+The man bowed, with a curious side glance at Horser.
+
+“Certainly, your Grace!”
+
+Horser was almost speechless with anger.
+
+“Are you going to answer my questions?” he demanded thickly.
+
+“I have no particular objection to doing so,” Mr. Sabin answered, “but
+until you can sit up and compose yourself like an ordinary individual, I
+decline to enter into any conversation with you at all.”
+
+Again Mr. Horser raised his voice, and the glare in his eyes was like
+the glare of a wild beast.
+
+“Do you know who I am?” he asked. “Do you know who you’re talking to?”
+
+Mr. Sabin looked at him coolly, and fingered his wineglass.
+
+“Well,” he said, “I’ve a shocking memory for names, but yours is--Mr.
+Horser, isn’t it? I heard it for the first time this morning, and my
+memory will generally carry me through four-and-twenty hours.”
+
+There was a moment’s silence. Horser was no fool. He accepted his defeat
+and dropped the bully.
+
+“You’re a stranger in this city, Mr. Sabin, and I guess you aren’t
+altogether acquainted with our ways yet,” he said. “But I want you
+to understand this. The report which is in your pocket has got to be
+returned to me. If I’d known what I was meddling with I wouldn’t have
+touched your business for a hundred thousand dollars. It’s got to be
+returned to me, I say!” he repeated in a more threatening tone.
+
+Mr. Sabin helped himself to fish, and made a careful examination of the
+sauce.
+
+“After all,” he said meditatively, “I am not sure that I was wise in
+insisting upon a sauce piquante. I beg your pardon, Mr. Horser. Please
+do not think me inattentive, but I am very hungry. So, I believe, is my
+friend, Mr. Skinner. Will you not join us--or perhaps you have already
+dined?”
+
+There was an ugly flush in Mr. Horser’s cheeks, but he struggled to keep
+his composure.
+
+“Will you give me back that report?”
+
+“When I have read it, with pleasure,” Mr. Sabin answered. “Before, no.”
+
+Mr. Horser swallowed an exceedingly vicious oath. He struck the table
+lightly with his forefinger.
+
+“Look here,” he said. “If you’d lived in New York a couple of years,
+even a couple of months, you wouldn’t talk like that. I tell you that
+I hold the government of this city in my right hand. I don’t want to be
+unpleasant, but if that paper is not in my hands by the time you leave
+this table I shall have you arrested as you leave this room, and the
+papers taken from you.”
+
+“Dear me,” Mr. Sabin said, “this is serious. On what charge may I ask
+should I be exposed to this inconvenience?”
+
+“Charge be damned!” Mr. Horser answered. “The police don’t want
+particulars from me. When I say do a thing they do it. They know that if
+they declined it would be their last day on the force.”
+
+Mr. Sabin filled his glass and leaned back in his chair.
+
+“This,” he remarked, “is interesting. I am always glad to have the
+opportunity of gaining an insight into the customs of different
+countries. I had an idea that America was a country remarkable for the
+amount of liberty enjoyed by its inhabitants. Your proposed course of
+action seems scarcely in keeping with this.”
+
+“What are you going to do? Come, I’ve got to have an answer.”
+
+“I don’t quite understand,” Mr. Sabin remarked, with a puzzled look,
+“what your official position is in connection with the police.”
+
+Mr. Horser’s face was a very ugly sight. “Oh, curse my official
+position,” he exclaimed thickly. “If you want proof of what I say you
+shall have it in less than five minutes. Skinner, be off and fetch a
+couple of constables.”
+
+“I really must protest,” Mr. Sabin said. “Mr. Skinner is my guest, and
+I will not have him treated in this fashion, just as the terrapin is
+coming in, too. Sit down, Mr. Skinner, sit down. I will settle this
+matter with you in my room, Mr. Horser, after I have dined. I will not
+even discuss it before.”
+
+Mr. Horser opened his mouth twice, and closed it again. He knew that his
+opponent was simply playing to gain time, but, after all, he held the
+trump card. He could afford to wait. He turned to a waiter and ordered a
+cigar. Mr. Sabin and Mr. Skinner continued their dinner.
+
+Conversation was a little difficult, though Mr. Sabin showed no signs of
+an impaired appetite. Skinner was white with fear, and glanced every now
+and then nervously at his chief. Mr. Horser smoked without ceasing, and
+maintained an ominous silence. Mr. Sabin at last, with a sigh, rose,
+and lighting a cigarette, took his stick from the waiter and prepared to
+leave.
+
+“I fear, Mr. Horser,” he remarked, “that your presence has scarcely
+contributed to the cheerfulness of our repast. Mr. Skinner, am I to be
+favoured with your company also upstairs?”
+
+Horser clutched that gentleman’s arm and whispered a few words in his
+ear.
+
+“Mr. Skinner,” he said, “will join us presently. What is your number?”
+
+“336,” Mr. Sabin answered. “You will excuse my somewhat slow progress.”
+
+They crossed the hall and entered the elevator. Mr. Horser’s face
+began to clear. In a moment or two they would be in Mr. Sabin’s
+sitting-room-alone. He regarded with satisfaction the other’s slim,
+delicate figure and the limp with which he moved. He felt that the
+danger was already over.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+BUT, after all, things did not exactly turn out as Mr. Horser had
+imagined. The sight of the empty room and the closed door were
+satisfactory enough, and he did not hesitate for a moment.
+
+“Look here, sir,” he said, “you and I are going to settle this matter
+quick. Whatever you paid Skinner you can have back again. But I’m going
+to have that report.”
+
+He took a quick step forward with uplifted hand--and looked into the
+shining muzzle of a tiny revolver. Behind it Mr. Sabin’s face, no longer
+pleasant and courteous, had taken to itself some very grim lines.
+
+“I am a weak man, Mr. Horser, but I am never without the means of
+self-defence,” Mr. Sabin said in a still, cold tone. “Be so good as to
+sit down in that easy-chair.”
+
+Mr. Horser hesitated. For one moment he stood as though about to carry
+out his first intention. He stood glaring at his opponent, his face
+contracted into a snarl, his whole appearance hideous, almost bestial.
+Mr. Sabin smiled upon him contemptuously--the maddening, compelling
+smile of the born aristocrat.
+
+“Sit down!”
+
+Mr. Horser sat down, whereupon Mr. Sabin followed suit.
+
+“Now what have you to say to me?” Mr. Sabin asked quietly.
+
+“I want that report,” was the dogged answer.
+
+“You will not have it,” Mr. Sabin answered. “You can take that for
+granted. You shall not take it from me by force, and I will see that you
+do not charm it out of my pocket by other means. The information which
+it contains is of the utmost possible importance to me. I have bought it
+and paid for it, and I shall use it.”
+
+Mr. Horser moistened his dry lips.
+
+“I will give you,” he said, “twenty thousand dollars for its return.”
+
+Mr. Sabin laughed softly.
+
+“You bid high,” he said. “I begin to suspect that our friends on the
+other side of the water have been more than ordinarily kind to you.”
+
+“I will give you--forty thousand dollars.”
+
+Mr. Sabin raised his eyebrows.
+
+“So much? After all, that sounds more like fear than anything. You
+cannot hope to make a profitable deal out of that. Dear me! It seems
+only a few minutes ago that I heard your interesting friend, Mr.
+Skinner, shake with laughter at the mention of such a thing as a secret
+society.”
+
+“Skinner is a blasted fool,” Horser exclaimed fiercely. “Listen here,
+Mr. Sabin. You can read that report if you must, but, as I’m a living
+man you’ll not stir from New York if you do. I’ll make your life a hell
+for you. Don’t you understand that no one but a born fool would dare
+to quarrel with me in this city? I hold the prison keys, the police
+are mine. I shall make my own charge, whatever I choose, and they shall
+prove it for me.”
+
+Mr. Sabin shook his head.
+
+“This sounds very shocking,” he remarked. “I had no idea that the
+largest city of the most enlightened country in the world was in such a
+sorry plight.”
+
+“Oh, curse your sarcasm,” Mr. Horser said. “I’m talking facts, and
+you’ve got to know them. Will you give up that report? You can find out
+all there is in it for yourself. But I’m going to give it you straight.
+If I don’t have that report back unread, you’ll never leave New York.”
+
+Mr. Sabin was genuinely amused.
+
+“My good fellow,” he said, “you have made yourself a notorious person in
+this country by dint of incessant bullying and bribing and corruption of
+every sort. You may possess all the powers you claim. Your only
+mistake seems to be that you are too thick-headed to know when you are
+overmatched. I have been a diplomatist all my life,” Mr. Sabin said,
+rising slowly to his feet, and with a sudden intent look upon his face,
+“and if I were to be outwitted by such a novice as you I should deserve
+to end my days--in New York.”
+
+Mr. Horser rose also to his feet. A smile of triumph was on his lips.
+
+“Well,” he said, “we-- Come in! Come in!” The door was thrown open.
+Skinner and two policemen entered. Mr. Sabin leaned towards the wall,
+and in a second the room was plunged in darkness.
+
+“Turn on the lights!” Skinner shouted. “Seize him! He’s in that
+corner. Use your clubs!” Horser bawled. “Stand by the door one of you.
+Damnation, where is that switch?”
+
+He found it with a shout of triumph. Lights flared out in the room. They
+stared around into every corner. Mr. Sabin was not there. Then Horser
+saw the door leading into the bed-chamber, and flung himself against it
+with a hoarse cry of rage.
+
+“Break it open!” he cried to the policemen.
+
+They hammered upon it with their clubs. Mr. Sabin’s quiet voice came to
+them from the other side.
+
+“Pray do not disturb me, gentlemen,” he said. “I am reading.”
+
+“Break it open, you damned fools!” Horser cried. They battered at it
+sturdily, but the door was a solid one. Suddenly they heard the key turn
+in the lock. Mr. Sabin stood upon the threshold.
+
+“Gentlemen!” he exclaimed. “These are my private apartments. Why this
+violence?”
+
+He held out the paper.
+
+“This is mine,” he said. “The information which it contains is bought
+and paid for. But if the giving it up will procure me the privilege of
+your departure, pray take it.”
+
+Horser was purple with rage. He pointed with shaking fist to the still,
+calm figure.
+
+“Arrest him,” he ordered. “Take him to the cells.”
+
+Mr. Sabin shrugged his shoulders.
+
+“I am ready,” he said, “but it is only fair to give you this warning. I
+am the Duke of Souspennier, and I am well known in England and France.
+The paper which you saw me hand to the porter in the hall as we stepped
+into the elevator was a despatch in cipher to the English Ambassador at
+Washington, claiming his protection. If you take me to prison to-night
+you will have him to deal with to-morrow.”
+
+Mr. Horser bore himself in defeat better than at any time during the
+encounter. He turned to the constables.
+
+“Go down stairs and wait for me in the hall,” he ordered. “You too,
+Skinner.”
+
+They left the room. Horser turned to Mr. Sabin, and the veins on his
+forehead stood out like whipcord.
+
+“I know when I’m beaten,” he said. “Keep your report, and be damned to
+you. But remember that you and I have a score to settle, and you can ask
+those who know me how often Dick Horser comes out underneath in the long
+run.”
+
+He followed the others. Mr. Sabin sat down in his easy-chair with
+a quiet smile upon his lips. Once more he glanced through the brief
+report. Then his eyes half closed, and he sat quite still--a tired,
+weary-looking man, almost unnaturally pale.
+
+“They have kept their word,” he said softly to himself, “after many
+years. After many years!”
+
+      *           *           *           *           *
+
+Duson came in to undress him shortly afterwards. He saw signs of the
+struggle, but made no comment. Mr. Sabin, after a moment’s hesitation,
+took a phial from his pocket and poured a few drops into a wineglassful
+of water.
+
+“Duson,” he said, “bring me some despatch forms and a pencil.”
+
+“Yes, sir.”
+
+Mr. Sabin wrote for several moments. Then he placed the forms in an
+envelope, sealed it, and handed it to Duson.
+
+“Duson,” he said, “that fellow Horser is annoyed with me. If I should
+be arrested on any charge, or should fail to return to the hotel within
+reasonable time, break that seal and send off the telegrams.”
+
+“Yes, sir.”
+
+Mr. Sabin yawned.
+
+“I need sleep,” he said. “Do not call me to-morrow morning until I ring.
+And, Duson!”
+
+“Yes, sir.”
+
+“The Campania will sail from New York somewhere about the tenth of
+October. I wish to secure the whole of stateroom number twenty-eight. Go
+round to the office as soon as they open, secure that room if possible,
+and pay a deposit. No other will do. Also one for yourself.”
+
+“Very good, sir.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+“Here’s a lady inquiring for you, sir--just gone up to your room in the
+elevator,” the hotel clerk remarked to Mr. Sabin as he paused on his way
+to the door to hand in his key. “Shall I send a boy up?”
+
+Mr. Sabin hesitated.
+
+“A lady?” he remarked tentatively.
+
+The hotel clerk nodded.
+
+“Yes. I didn’t notice the name, but she was an Englishwoman. I’ll send
+up.”
+
+“Thank you, I will return,” Mr. Sabin said. “If I should miss her on the
+way perhaps you will kindly redirect her to my rooms.”
+
+He rang for the elevator, and was swiftly transported to his own floor.
+The door of his sitting-room was open. Duson was talking to a tall fair
+woman, who turned swiftly round at the sound of his approach.
+
+“Ah, they found you, then!” she exclaimed, coming towards him with
+outstretched hands. “Isn’t this a strange place and a strange country
+for us to meet once more in?”
+
+He greeted her gallantly, but with a certain reserve, of which she was
+at once aware.
+
+“Are there any countries in the world left which are strange to so great
+a traveler as Lady Muriel Carey?” he said. “The papers here have been
+full of your wonderful adventures in South Africa.”
+
+She laughed.
+
+“Everything shockingly exaggerated, of course,” she declared. “I have
+really been plagued to death since I got here with interviewers, and
+that sort of person. I wonder if you know how glad I am to see you
+again?”
+
+“You are very kind, indeed,” he said. “Certainly there was no one whom
+I expected less to see over here. You have come for the yacht races, I
+suppose?”
+
+She looked at him with a faint smile and raised eyebrows.
+
+“Come,” she said, “shall we lie to one another? Is it worth while?
+Candour is so much more original.”
+
+“Candour by all means then, I beg,” he answered.
+
+“I have come over with the Dalkeiths, ostensibly to see the yacht races.
+Really I have come to see you.”
+
+Mr. Sabin bowed.
+
+“I am delightfully flattered,” he murmured.
+
+“I don’t exactly mean for the pleasure of gazing into your face once
+more,” she continued. “I have a mission!”
+
+Mr. Sabin looked up quickly.
+
+“Great heavens! You, too!” he exclaimed.
+
+She nodded.
+
+“Why not?” she asked coolly. “I have been in it for years, you know,
+and when I got back from South Africa everything seemed so terribly slow
+that I begged for some work to do.”
+
+“And they sent you here--to me?”
+
+“Yes,” she answered, “and I was here also a few weeks ago, but you must
+not ask me anything about that.”
+
+Mr. Sabin’s eyebrows contracted, his face darkened. She shrank a little
+away from him.
+
+“So it is you who have robbed me of her, then,” he said slowly. “Yes,
+the description fits you well enough. I ask you, Lady Carey, to remember
+the last time when chance brought you and me together. Have I deserved
+this from you?”
+
+She made a little gesture of impotence.
+
+“Do be reasonable!” she begged. “What choice had I?”
+
+He looked at her steadfastly.
+
+“The folly of women--of clever women such as you,” he said, “is
+absolutely amazing. You have deliberately made a slave of yourself--”
+
+“One must have distraction,” she murmured.
+
+“Distraction! And so you play at this sort of thing. Is it worth while?”
+
+Her eyes for a moment clouded over with weariness.
+
+“When one has filled the cup of life to the brim for many years,” she
+said, “what remains that is worth while?”
+
+He bowed.
+
+“You are a young woman,” he said. “You should not yet have learned to
+speak with such bitterness. As for me--well, I am old indeed. In youth
+and age the affections claim us. I am approaching my second childhood.”
+
+She laughed derisively, yet not unkindly. “What folly!” she exclaimed.
+
+“You are right,” he admitted. “I suppose it is the fault of old
+associations.”
+
+“In a few minutes,” she said, smiling at him, “we should have become
+sentimental.”
+
+“I,” he admitted, “was floundering already.”
+
+She shrugged her shoulders.
+
+“You talk as though sentiment were a bog.”
+
+“There have been worse similes,” he declared.
+
+“How horrid! And do you know, sir, for all your indignation you have not
+yet even inquired after your wife’s health.”
+
+“I trust,” he said, “that she is well.”
+
+“She is in excellent health.”
+
+“Your second visit to this country,” he remarked, “follows very swiftly
+upon your first.”
+
+She nodded.
+
+“I am here,” she said, “on your account.”
+
+“You excite my interest,” he declared. “May I know your mission?”
+
+“I have to remind you of your pledge,” she said, “to assure you of
+Lucille’s welfare, and to prevent your leaving the country.”
+
+“Marvelous!” he exclaimed, with a slight mocking smile. “And may I ask
+what means you intend to employ to keep me here?”
+
+“Well,” she said, “I have large discretionary powers. We have a very
+strong branch over on this side, but I would very much rather induce you
+to stay here without applying to them.”
+
+“And the inducements?” he asked.
+
+She took a cigarette from a box which stood on the table and lit one.
+
+“Well,” she said, “I might appeal to your hospitality, might I not? I am
+in a strange country which you have made your home. I want to be shown
+round. Do you remember dining with me one night at the Ambassador’s? It
+was very hot, even for Paris, and we drove afterwards in the Bois. Ask
+me to dine with you here, won’t you? I have never quite forgotten the
+last time.”
+
+Mr. Sabin laughed softly, but with undisguised mirth.
+
+“Come,” he said, “this is an excellent start. You are to play the Circe
+up to date, and I am to be beguiled. How ought I to answer you? I do
+remember the Ambassador’s, and I do remember driving down the Bois in
+your victoria, and holding--I believe I am right--your hand. You have no
+right to disturb those charming memories by attempting to turn them into
+bathos.”
+
+She blew out a little cloud of tobacco smoke, and watched it
+thoughtfully.
+
+“Ah!” she remarked. “I wonder who is better at that, you or I? I may not
+be exactly a sentimental person, but you--you are a flint.”
+
+“On the contrary,” Mr. Sabin assured her earnestly, “I am very much in
+love with my wife.”
+
+“Dear me!” she exclaimed. “You carry originality to quixoticism. I have
+met several men before in my life whom I have suspected of such a thing,
+but I never heard any one confess it. This little domestic contretemps
+is then, I presume, disagreeable to you!”
+
+“To the last degree,” Mr. Sabin asserted. “So much so that I leave for
+England by the Campania.”
+
+She shook her head slowly.
+
+“I wouldn’t if I were you.”
+
+“Why not?”
+
+Lady Carey threw away the end of her cigarette, and looked for a moment
+thoughtfully at her long white fingers glittering with rings. Then she
+began to draw on her gloves.
+
+“Well, in the first place,” she said, “Lucille will have no time
+to spare for you. You will be de trop in decidedly an uncomfortable
+position. You wouldn’t find London at all a good place to live in just
+now, even if you ever got there--which I am inclined to doubt. And
+secondly, here am I--”
+
+“Circe!” he murmured.
+
+“Waiting to be entertained, in a strange country, almost friendless.
+I want to be shown everything, taken everywhere. And I am dying to see
+your home at Lenox. I do not think your attitude towards me in the least
+hospitable.”
+
+“Come, you are judging me very quickly,” he declared. “What
+opportunities have I had?”
+
+“What opportunities can there be if you sail by the Campania?”
+
+“You might dine with me to-night at least.”
+
+“Impossible! The Dalkeiths have a party to meet me. Come too, won’t you?
+They love dukes--even French ones.”
+
+He shook his head.
+
+“There is no attraction for me in a large party,” he answered. “I am
+getting to an age when to make conversation in return for a dinner seems
+scarcely a fair exchange.”
+
+“From your host’s point of view, or yours?”
+
+“From both! Besides, one’s digestion suffers.”
+
+“You are certainly getting old,” she declared. “Come, I must go. You
+haven’t been a bit nice to me. When shall I see you again?”
+
+“It is,” he answered, “for you to say.”
+
+She looked at him for a moment thoughtfully.
+
+“Supposing,” she said, “that I cried off the yacht race to-day. Would
+you take me out to lunch?”
+
+He smiled.
+
+“My dear lady,” he said, “it is for Circe to command--and for me to
+obey.”
+
+“And you’ll come and have tea with me afterwards at the Waldorf?”
+
+“That,” Mr. Sabin declared, “will add still further to my happiness.”
+
+“Will you call for me, then--and where shall we have lunch, and at
+what time? I must go and develop a headache at once, or that tiresome
+Dalkeith boy will be pounding at my door.”
+
+“I will call for you at the Waldorf at half-past one,” Mr. Sabin said.
+“Unless you have any choice, I will take you to a little place downtown
+where we can imagine ourselves back on the Continent, and where we shall
+be spared the horror of green corn.”
+
+“Delightful,” she murmured, buttoning her glove. “Then you shall take
+me for a drive to Fifth Avenue, or to see somebody’s tomb, and my woman
+shall make some real Russian tea for us in my sitting-room. Really, I
+think I’m doing very well for the first day. Is the spell beginning to
+work?”
+
+“Hideously,” he assured her. “I feel already that the only thing I dread
+in life are these two hours before luncheon.”
+
+She nodded.
+
+“That is quite as it should be. Don’t trouble to come down with me. I
+believe that Dalkeith pere is hanging round somewhere, and in view of my
+headache perhaps you had better remain in the background for the moment.
+At one-thirty, then!”
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled as she passed out of the room, and lit a cigarette.
+
+“I think,” he said to himself, “that the arrival of Felix is opportune.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+They sat together at a small table, looking upon a scene which was
+probably unique in the history of the great restaurant. The younger man
+was both frankly interested and undoubtedly curious. Mr. Sabin, though
+his eyes seemed everywhere, retained to the full extent that nonchalance
+of manner which all his life he had so assiduously cultivated.
+
+“It is wonderful, my dear Felix,” he said, leisurely drawing his
+cigarette-case from his pocket, “wonderful what good fellowship can
+be evolved by a kindred interest in sport, and a bottle or so of good
+champagne. But, after all, this is not to be taken seriously.”
+
+“Shamrock the fourth! Shamrock the fourth!”
+
+A tall young American, his thick head of hair, which had once been
+carefully parted in the middle, a little disheveled, his hard, clean-cut
+face flushed with enthusiasm, had risen to his feet and stood with a
+brimming glass of champagne high over his head. Almost every one in the
+room rose to their feet. A college boy sprang upon a table with extended
+arms. The Yale shout split the room. The very glasses on the table
+rattled.
+
+“Columbia! Columbia!”
+
+It was an Englishman now who had leaped upon a vacant table with
+upraised glass. There was an answering roar of enthusiasm. Every one
+drank, and every one sat down again with a pleasant thrill of excitement
+at this unique scene. Felix leaned back in his chair and marveled.
+
+“One would have imagined,” he murmured, “that America and England
+together were at war with the rest of the world and had won a great
+victory. To think that this is all the result of a yacht race. It is
+incredible!”
+
+“All your life, my dear Felix,” Mr. Sabin remarked, “you have underrated
+the sporting instinct. It has a great place amongst the impulses of the
+world. See how it has brought these people together.”
+
+“But they are already of the same kin,” Felix remarked. “Their interests
+and aims are alike. Their destinies are surely identical.”
+
+Mr. Sabin, who had lit his cigarette, watched the blue smoke curl
+upwards, and was thoughtful for a moment.
+
+“My dear Felix!” he said. “You are very, very young. The interests of
+two great nations such as America and England can never be alike. It is
+the language of diplomacy, but it is also the language of fools.”
+
+Their conversation was for the moment interrupted by a fresh murmur of
+applause, rising above the loved hum of conversation, the laughter of
+women, and the popping of corks. A little troop of waiters had just
+wheeled into the room two magnificent models of yachts hewn out of
+blocks of solid ice and crowned with flowers. On the one were the Stars
+and Stripes, on the other the Shamrock and Thistle. There was much
+clapping of hands and cheering. Lady Carey, who was sitting at the next
+table with her back to them, joined in the applause so heartily that
+a tiny gold pencil attached to her bracelet became detached and rolled
+unobserved to Mr. Sabin’s side. Felix half rose to pick it up, but was
+suddenly checked by a quick gesture from his companion.
+
+“Leave it,” Mr. Sabin whispered. “I wish to return it myself.”
+
+He stooped and picked it up, a certain stealthiness apparent in his
+movement. Felix watched him in amazement.
+
+“It is Lady Carey’s, is it not?” he asked.
+
+“Yes. Be silent. I will give it back to her presently.”
+
+A waiter served them with coffee. Mr. Sabin was idly sketching something
+on the back of his menu card. Felix broke into a little laugh as the man
+retired.
+
+“Mysterious as ever,” he remarked.
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled quietly. He went on with his sketch.
+
+“I do not want,” Felix said, “to seem impatient, but you must remember
+that I have come all the way from Europe in response to a very urgent
+message. As yet I have done nothing except form a very uncomfortable
+third at a luncheon and tea party, and listen to a good deal of
+enigmatic conversation between you and the charming Lady Carey. This
+evening I made sure that I should be enlightened. But no! You have given
+me a wonderful dinner--from you I expected it. We have eaten terrapin,
+canvas-back duck, and many other things the names of which alone were
+known to me. But of the reason for which you have summoned me here--I
+know nothing. Not one word have you spoken. I am beginning to fear from
+your avoidance of the subject that there is some trouble between you and
+Lucille. I beg that you will set my anxiety at rest.”
+
+Mr. Sabin nodded.
+
+“It is reasonable,” he said. “Look here!”
+
+He turned the menu card round. On the back he had sketched some sort of
+a device with the pencil which he had picked up, and which instead of
+black-lead contained a peculiar shade of yellow crayon. Felix sat as
+though turned to stone.
+
+“Try,” Mr. Sabin said smoothly, “and avoid that air of tragedy. Some of
+these good people might be curious.”
+
+Felix leaned across the table. He pointed to the menu card.
+
+“What does that mean?” he muttered.
+
+Mr. Sabin contemplated it himself thoughtfully. “Well,” he said, “I
+rather thought that you might be able to explain that to me. I have
+an idea that there is a society in Europe--sort of aristocratic
+odd-fellows, you know--who had adopted it for their crest. Am I not
+right?”
+
+Felix looked at him steadfastly.
+
+“Tell me two things,” he said. “First, why you sent for me, and
+secondly, what do you mean--by that?”
+
+“Lucille,” Mr. Sabin said, “has been taken away from me.”
+
+“Lucille! Great God!”
+
+“She has been taken away from me,” Mr. Sabin said, “without a single
+word of warning.”
+
+Felix pointed to the menu card.
+
+“By them?” he asked.
+
+“By them. It was a month ago. Two days before my cable.”
+
+Felix was silent for several moments. He had not the self-command of his
+companion, and he feared to trust himself to speech.
+
+“She has been taken to Europe,” Mr. Sabin continued. “I do not know, I
+cannot even guess at the reason. She left no word. I have been warned
+not to follow her.”
+
+“You obey?”
+
+“I sail to-morrow.”
+
+“And I?” Felix asked.
+
+Mr. Sabin looked for, a moment at the drawing on the back of the menu
+card, and up at Felix. Felix shook his head.
+
+“You must know,” he said, “that I am powerless.”
+
+“You may be able to help me,” Mr. Sabin said, “without compromising
+yourself.”
+
+“Impossible!” Felix declared. “But what did they want with Lucille?”
+
+“That,” Mr. Sabin said, “is what I am desirous of knowing. It is what I
+trust that you, my dear Felix, may assist me to discover.”
+
+“You are determined, then, to follow her?”
+
+Mr. Sabin helped himself to a liqueur from the bottle by his side.
+
+“My dear Felix,” he said reproachfully, “you should know me better than
+to ask me such a question.”
+
+Felix moved uneasily in his chair.
+
+“Of course,” he said, “it depends upon how much they want to keep you
+apart. But you know that you are running great risks?”
+
+“Why, no,” Mr. Sabin said. “I scarcely thought that. I have understood
+that the society was by no means in its former flourishing condition.”
+
+Felix laughed scornfully.
+
+“They have never been,” he answered, “richer or more powerful. During
+the last twelve months they have been active in every part of Europe.”
+
+Mr. Sabin’s face hardened.
+
+“Very well!” he said. “We will try their strength.”
+
+“We!” Felix laughed shortly. “You forget that my hands are tied. I
+cannot help you or Lucille. You must know that.”
+
+“You cannot interfere directly,” Mr. Sabin admitted. “Yet you are
+Lucille’s brother, and I am forced to appeal to you. If you will be my
+companion for a little while I think I can show you how you can help
+Lucille at any rate, and yet run no risk.”
+
+The little party at the next table were breaking up at last. Lady Carey,
+pale and bored, with tired, swollen eyes--they were always a little
+prominent--rose languidly and began to gather together her belongings.
+As she did so she looked over the back of her chair and met Mr. Sabin’s
+eyes. He rose at once and bowed. She cast a quick sidelong glance at her
+companions, which he at once understood.
+
+“I have the honour, Lady Carey,” he said, “of recalling myself to your
+recollection. We met in Paris and London not so very many years ago. You
+perhaps remember the cardinal’s dinner?”
+
+A slight smile flickered upon her lips. The man’s adroitness always
+excited her admiration.
+
+“I remember it perfectly, and you, Duke,” she answered. “Have you made
+your home on this side of the water?”
+
+Mr. Sabin shook his head slowly.
+
+“Home!” he repeated. “Ah, I was always a bird of passage, you remember.
+Yet I have spent three very delightful years in this country.”
+
+“And I,” she said, lowering her tone and leaning towards him, “one very
+stupid, idiotic day.”
+
+Mr. Sabin assumed the look of a man who denies any personal
+responsibility in an unfortunate happening.
+
+“It was regrettable,” he murmured, “but I assure you that it was
+unavoidable. Lucille’s brother must have a certain claim upon me, and it
+was his first day in America.”
+
+She was silent for a moment. Then she turned abruptly towards the door.
+Her friends were already on the way.
+
+“Come with me,” she said. “I want to speak to you.”
+
+He followed her out into the lobby. Felix came a few paces behind. The
+restaurant was still full of people, the hum of conversation almost
+drowning the music. Every one glanced curiously at Lady Carey, who was a
+famous woman. She carried herself with a certain insolent indifference,
+the national deportment of her sex and rank. The women whispered
+together that she was “very English.”
+
+In the lobby she turned suddenly upon Mr. Sabin.
+
+“Will you take me back to my hotel?” she asked pointedly.
+
+“I regret that I cannot,” he answered. “I have promised to show Felix
+some of the wonders of New York by night.”
+
+“You can take him to-morrow.”
+
+“To-morrow,” Mr. Sabin said, “he leaves for the West.”
+
+She looked closely into his impassive face.
+
+“I suppose that you are lying,” she said shortly.
+
+“Your candour,” he answered coldly, “sometimes approaches brutality.”
+
+She leaned towards him, her face suddenly softened.
+
+“We are playing a foolish game with one another,” she murmured. “I offer
+you an alliance, my friendship, perhaps my help.”
+
+“What can I do,” he answered gravely, “save be grateful--and accept?”
+
+“Then--”
+
+She stopped short. It was Mr. Sabin’s luck which had intervened. Herbert
+Daikeith stood at her elbow.
+
+“Lady Carey,” he said, “they’re all gone but the mater and I. Forgive my
+interrupting you,” he added hastily.
+
+“You can go on, Herbert,” she added. “The Duc de Souspennier will bring
+me.”
+
+Mr. Sabin, who had no intention of doing anything of the sort, turned
+towards the young man with a smile.
+
+“Lady Carey has not introduced us,” he said, “but I have seen you at
+Ranelagh quite often. If you are still keen on polo you should have a
+try over here. I fancy you would find that these American youngsters can
+hold their own. All right, Felix, I am ready now. Lady Carey, I shall do
+myself the honour of waiting upon you early to-morrow morning, as I have
+a little excursion to propose. Good-night.”
+
+She shrugged her shoulders ever so slightly as she turned away. Mr.
+Sabin smiled--faintly amused. He turned to Felix.
+
+“Come,” he said, “we have no time to lose.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+“I regret,” Mr. Sabin said to Felix as they sat side by side in the
+small coupe, “that your stay in this country will be so brief.”
+
+“Indeed,” Felix answered. “May I ask what you call brief?”
+
+Mr. Sabin looked out of the carriage window.
+
+“We are already,” he said, “on the way to England.”
+
+Felix laughed.
+
+“This,” he said, “is like old times.”
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled.
+
+“The system of espionage here,” he remarked, “is painfully primitive. It
+lacks finesse and judgment. The fact that I have taken expensive rooms
+on the Campania, and that I have sent many packages there, that my
+own belongings are still in my rooms untouched, seems to our friends
+conclusive evidence that I am going to attempt to leave America by that
+boat. They have, I believe, a warrant for my arrest on some ridiculous
+charge which they intend to present at the last moment. They will not
+have the opportunity.”
+
+“But there is no other steamer sailing to-morrow, is there?” Felix
+asked.
+
+“Not from New York,” Mr. Sabin answered, “but it was never my intention
+to sail from New York. We are on our way to Boston now, and we sail in
+the Saxonia at six o’clock to-morrow morning.”
+
+“We appear to be stopping at the Waldorf,” Felix remarked.
+
+“It is quite correct,” Mr. Sabin answered. “Follow me through the hall
+as quickly as possible. There is another carriage waiting at the other
+entrance, and I expect to find in it Duson and my dressing-case.”
+
+They alighted and made their way though the crowded vestibules. At
+the Thirty-fourth Street entrance a carriage was drawn up. Duson was
+standing upon the pavement, his pale, nervous face whiter than ever
+under the electric light. Mr. Sabin stopped short.
+
+“Felix,” he said, “one word. If by any chance things have gone wrong
+they will not have made any arrangements to detain you. Catch the
+midnight train to Boston and embark on the Saxonia. There will be
+a cable for you at Liverpool. But the moment you leave me send this
+despatch.”
+
+Felix nodded and put the crumpled-up piece of paper in his pocket.
+The two men passed on. Duson took off his hat, but his fingers were
+trembling. The carriage door was opened and a tall, spare man descended.
+
+“This is Mr. Sabin?” he remarked.
+
+Mr. Sabin bowed.
+
+“That is my name,” he admitted, “by which I have been generally called
+in this democratic country. What is your business with me?”
+
+“I rather guess that you’re my prisoner,” the man answered. “If you’ll
+step right in here we can get away quietly.”
+
+“The suggestion,” Mr. Sabin remarked, “sounds inviting, but I am
+somewhat pressed for time. Might I inquire the nature of the charge you
+have against me?”
+
+“They’ll tell you that at the office,” the man answered. “Get in,
+please.”
+
+Mr. Sabin looked around for Felix, but he had disappeared. He took out
+his cigarette-case.
+
+“You will permit me first to light a cigarette,” he remarked.
+
+“All right! Only look sharp.”
+
+Mr. Sabin kept silence in the carriage. The drive was a long one. When
+they descended he looked up at Duson, who sat upon the box.
+
+“Duson,” he said, and his voice, though low, was terrible, “I see that I
+can be mistaken in men. You are a villain.”
+
+The man sprung to his feet, hat in hand. His face was wrung with
+emotion.
+
+“Your Grace,” he said, “it is true that I betrayed you. But I did it
+without reward. I am a ruined man. I did it because the orders which
+came to me were such as I dare not disobey. Here are your keys, your
+Grace, and money.”
+
+Mr. Sabin looked at him steadily.
+
+“You, too, Duson?”
+
+“I too, alas, your Grace!”
+
+Mr. Sabin considered for a moment.
+
+“Duson,” he said, “I retain you in my service. Take my luggage on board
+the Campania to-morrow afternoon, and pay the bill at the hotel. I shall
+join you on the boat.”
+
+Duson was amazed. The man who was standing by laughed.
+
+“If you take my advice, sir,” he remarked, “you’ll order your clothes
+to be sent here. I’ve a kind of fancy the Campania will sail without you
+to-morrow.”
+
+“You have my orders, Duson,” Mr. Sabin said. “You can rely upon seeing
+me.”
+
+The detective led the way into the building, and opened the door leading
+into a large, barely furnished office.
+
+“Chief’s gone home for the night, I guess,” he remarked. “We can fix up
+a shakedown for you in one of the rooms behind.”
+
+“I thank you,” Mr. Sabin said, sitting down in a high-backed wooden
+chair; “I decline to move until the charge against me is properly
+explained.”
+
+“There is no one here to do it just now,” the man answered. “Better make
+yourself comfortable for a bit.”
+
+“You detain me here, then,” Mr. Sabin said, “without even a sight of
+your warrant or any intimation as to the charge against me?”
+
+“Oh, the chief’ll fix all that,” the man answered. “Don’t you worry.”
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled.
+
+In a magnificently furnished apartment somewhere in the neighbourhood of
+Fifth Avenue a small party of men were seated round a card table piled
+with chips and rolls of bills. On the sideboard there was a great
+collection of empty bottles, spirit decanters and Vichy syphons. Mr.
+Horser was helping himself to brandy and water with one hand and holding
+himself up with the other. There was a knock at the door.
+
+A man who was still playing looked up. He was about fifty years of age,
+clean shaven, with vacuous eyes and a weak mouth. He was the host of the
+party.
+
+“Come in!” he shouted.
+
+A young man entered in a long black overcoat and soft hat. He looked
+about him without surprise, but he seemed to note Mr. Horser’s presence
+with some concern. The man at the table threw down his cards.
+
+“What the devil do you want, Smith?”
+
+“An important despatch from Washington has just arrived, sir. I have
+brought it up with the codebook.”
+
+“From Washington at this time of the night,” he exclaimed thickly. “Come
+in here, Smith.”
+
+He raised the curtains leading into a small anteroom, and turned up the
+electric light. His clerk laid the message down on the table before him.
+
+“Here is the despatch, Mr. Mace,” he said, “and here is the
+translation.”
+
+“English Ambassador demands immediate explanation of arrest of Duke
+Souspennier at Waldorf to-night. Reply immediately what charge and
+evidence. Souspennier naturalised Englishman.”
+
+Mr. Mace sprang to his feet with an oath. He threw aside the curtain
+which shielded the room from the larger apartment.
+
+“Horser, come here, you damned fool!”
+
+Horser, with a stream of magnificent invectives, obeyed the summons. His
+host pointed to the message.
+
+“Read that!”
+
+Mr. Horser read and his face grew even more repulsive. A dull purple
+flush suffused his cheeks, his eyes were bloodshot, and the veins on his
+forehead stood out like cords. He leaned for several moments against the
+table and steadily cursed Mr. Sabin, the government at Washington, and
+something under his breath which he did not dare to name openly.
+
+“Oh, shut up!” his host said at last. “How the devil are we going to get
+out of this?”
+
+Mr. Horser left the room and returned with a tumbler full of brandy and
+a very little water.
+
+“Take a drink yourself,” he said. “It’ll steady you.”
+
+“Oh, I’m steady enough,” Mr. Mace replied impatiently. “I want to know
+how you’re going to get us out of this. What was the charge, anyhow?”
+
+“Passing forged bills,” Horser answered. “Parsons fixed it up.”
+
+Mr. Mace turned a shade paler.
+
+“Where the devil’s the sense in a charge like that?” he answered
+fiercely. “The man’s a millionaire. He’ll turn the tables on us nicely.”
+
+“We’ve got to keep him till after the Campania sails, anyhow,” Horser
+said doggedly.
+
+“We’re not going to keep him ten minutes,” Mace replied. “I’m going to
+sign the order for his release.”
+
+Horser’s speech was thick with drunken fury. “By --- I’ll see that you
+don’t!” he exclaimed.
+
+Mace turned upon him angrily.
+
+“You selfish fool!” he muttered. “You’re not in the thing, anyhow. If
+you think I’m going to risk my position for the sake of one little job
+you’re wrong. I shall go down myself and release him, with an apology.”
+
+“He’ll have his revenge all the same,” Horser answered. “It’s too late
+now to funk the thing. They can’t budge you. We’ll see to that. We hold
+New York in our hands. Be a man, Mace, and run a little risk. It’s fifty
+thousand.”
+
+Mace looked up at him curiously.
+
+“What do you get out of it, Horser?”
+
+Horser’s face hardened.
+
+“Not one cent!” he declared fiercely. “Only if I fail it might be
+unpleasant for me next time I crossed.”
+
+“I don’t know!” Mace declared weakly. “I don’t know what to do. It’s
+twelve hours, Horser, and the charge is ridiculous.”
+
+“You have me behind you.”
+
+“I can’t tell them that at Washington,” Mace said.
+
+“It’s a fact, all the same. Don’t be so damned nervous.”
+
+Mace dismissed his clerk, and found his other guests, too, on the point
+of departure. But the last had scarcely left before a servant entered
+with another despatch.
+
+“Release Souspennier.”
+
+Mace handed it to his companion.
+
+“This settles it,” he declared. “I shall go round and try and make my
+peace with the fellow.”
+
+Horser stood in the way, burly, half-drunk and vicious. He struck his
+host in the face with clenched fist. Mace went down with scarcely a
+groan. A servant, hearing the fall, came hurrying back.
+
+“Your master is drunk and he has fallen down,” Horser said. “Put him to
+bed--give him a sleeping draught if you’ve got one.”
+
+The servant bent over the unconscious man.
+
+“Hadn’t I better fetch a doctor, sir?” he asked. “I’m afraid he’s hurt.”
+
+“Not he!” Horser answered contemptuously. “He’s cut his cheek a little,
+that’s all. Put him to bed. Say I shall be round again by nine o’clock.”
+
+Horser put on his coat and left the house. The morning sunlight was
+flooding the streets. Away down town Mr. Sabin was dozing in his
+high-backed chair.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+Felix, after an uneventful voyage, landed duly at Liverpool. To his
+amazement the first person he saw upon the quay was Mr. Sabin, leaning
+upon his stick and smoking a cigarette.
+
+“Come, come, Felix!” he exclaimed. “Don’t look at me as though I were a
+ghost. You have very little confidence in me, after all, I see.”
+
+“But--how did you get here?”
+
+“The Campania, of course. I had plenty of time. It was easy enough for
+those fellows to arrest me, but they never had a chance of holding me.”
+
+“But how did you get away in time?”
+
+Mr. Sabin sighed.
+
+“It was very simple,” he said. “One day, while one of those wonderful
+spies was sleeping on my doormat I slipped away and went over to
+Washington, saw the English Ambassador, convinced him of my bonafides,
+told him very nearly the whole truth. He promised if I wired him that I
+was arrested to take my case up at once. You sent the despatch, and he
+kept his word. I breakfasted on Saturday morning at the Waldorf, and
+though a great dray was driven into my carriage on the way to the boat,
+I escaped, as I always do--and here I am.”
+
+“Unhurt!” Felix remarked with a smile, “as usual!”
+
+Mr. Sabin nodded.
+
+“The driver of my carriage was killed, and Duson had his arm broken,”
+ he said. “I stepped out of the debris without a scratch. Come into the
+Customs House now and get your baggage through. I have taken a coupe on
+the special train and ordered lunch.”
+
+Before long they were on the way to London. Mr. Sabin, whilst luncheon
+was being served, talked only of the lightest matters. But afterwards,
+when coffee was served and he had lit a cigarette, he leaned over
+towards Felix.
+
+“Felix,” he said, “your sister is dear to you?”
+
+“She is the only creature on earth,” Felix said, “whom I care for. She
+is very dear to me, indeed.”
+
+“Am I right,” Mr. Sabin asked, “in assuming that the old enmity between
+us is dead, that the last few years has wiped away the old soreness.
+
+“Yes,” Felix answered. “I know that she was happy with you. That is
+enough for me.”
+
+“You and I,” Mr. Sabin continued, “must work out her salvation. Do not
+be afraid that I am going to ask you impossibilities. I know that our
+ways must lie apart. You can go to her at once. It may be many, many
+months before I can catch even a glimpse of her. Never mind. Let me
+feel that she has you within the circle, and I without, with our lives
+devoted to her.”
+
+“You may rely upon that,” Felix answered. “Wherever she is I am going. I
+shall be there. I will watch over her.”
+
+Mr. Sabin sighed.
+
+“The more difficult task is mine,” he said, “but I have no fear of
+failure. I shall find her surrounded by spies, by those who are now my
+enemies. Still, they will find it hard to shake me off. It may be that
+they took her from me only out of revenge. If that be so my task will be
+easier. If there are other dangers which she is called upon to face, it
+is still possible that they might accept my service instead.”
+
+“You would give it?” Felix exclaimed.
+
+“To the last drop of blood in my body,” Mr. Sabin answered. “Save for my
+love for her I am a dead man upon the earth. I have no longer politics
+or ambition. So the past can easily be expunged. Those who must be her
+guiding influence shall be mine.”
+
+“You will win her back,” Felix said. “I am sure of it.”
+
+“I am willing to pay any price on earth,” Mr. Sabin answered. “If they
+can forget the past I can. I want you to remember this. I want her to
+know it. I want them to know it. That is all, Felix.”
+
+Mr. Sabin leaned back in his seat. He had left this country last a
+stricken and defeated man, left it with the echoes of his ruined schemes
+crashing in his ears. He came back to it a man with one purpose only,
+and that such a purpose as never before had guided him--the love of a
+woman. Was it a sign of age, he wondered, this return to the humanities?
+His life had been full of great schemes, he had wielded often a gigantic
+influence, more than once he had made history. And now the love of these
+things had gone from him. Their fascination was powerless to quicken by
+a single beat his steady pulse. Monarchy or republic--what did he care?
+It was Lucille he wanted, the woman who had shown him how sweet even
+defeat might be, who had made these three years of his life so happy
+that they seemed to have passed in one delightful dream. Were they dead,
+annihilated, these old ambitions, the old love of great doings, or did
+they only slumber? He moved in his seat uneasily.
+
+At Euston the two men separated with a silent handshake. Mr. Sabin
+drove to one of the largest and newest of the modern hotels de luxe. He
+entered his name as Mr. Sabin--the old exile’s hatred of using his title
+in a foreign country had become a confirmed habit with him--and mingled
+freely with the crowds who thronged into the restaurant at night. There
+were many faces which he remembered, there were a few who remembered
+him. He neither courted nor shunned observation. He sat at dinner-time
+at a retired table, and found himself watching the people with a stir
+of pleasure. Afterwards he went round to a famous club, of which he had
+once been made a life member, but towards midnight he was wearied of the
+dull decorum of his surroundings, and returning to the hotel, sought
+the restaurant once more. The stream of people coming in to supper was
+greater even than at dinner-time. He found a small table, and ordered
+some oysters. The sight of this bevy of pleasure-seekers, all apparently
+with multitudes of friends, might have engendered a sense of loneliness
+in a man of different disposition. To Mr. Sabin his isolation was a
+luxury. He had an uninterrupted opportunity of pursuing his favourite
+study.
+
+There entered a party towards midnight, to meet whom the head-waiter
+himself came hurrying from the further end of the room, and whose
+arrival created a little buzz of interest. The woman who formed the
+central figure of the little group had for two years known no rival
+either at Court or in Society. She was the most beautiful woman in
+England, beautiful too with all the subtle grace of her royal descent.
+There were women upon the stage whose faces might have borne comparison
+with hers, but there was not one who in a room would not have sunk
+into insignificance by her side. Her movements, her carriage were
+incomparable--the inherited gifts of a race of women born in palaces.
+
+Mr. Sabin, who neither shunned nor courted observation, watched her with
+a grim smile which was not devoid of bitterness. Suddenly she saw him.
+With a little cry of wonder she came towards him with outstretched
+hands.
+
+“It is marvelous,” she exclaimed. “You? Really you?”
+
+He bowed low over her hands.
+
+“It is I, dear Helene,” he answered. “A moment ago I was dreaming. I
+thought that I was back once more at Versailles, and in the presence of
+my Queen.”
+
+She laughed softly.
+
+“There may be no Versailles,” she murmured, “but you will be a courtier
+to the end of your days.”
+
+“At least,” he said, “believe me that my congratulations come from my
+heart. Your happiness is written in your face, and your husband must be
+the proudest man in England.”
+
+He was standing now by her side, and he held out his hand to Mr. Sabin.
+
+“I hope, sir,” he said pleasantly, “that you bear me no ill-will.”
+
+“It would be madness,” Mr. Sabin answered. “To be the most beautiful
+peeress in England is perhaps for Helene a happier fate than to be the
+first queen of a new dynasty.”
+
+“And you, uncle?” Helene said. “You are back from your exile then. How
+often I have felt disposed to smile when I thought of you, of all men,
+in America.”
+
+“I went into exile,” Mr. Sabin answered, “and I found paradise. The
+three years which have passed since I saw you last have been the
+happiest of my life.”
+
+“Lucille!” Helene exclaimed.
+
+“Is my wife,” Mr. Sabin answered.
+
+“Delightful!” Helene murmured. “She is with you then, I hope. Indeed, I
+felt sure that I saw her the other night at the opera.”
+
+“At the opera!” Mr. Sabin for a moment was silent. He would have been
+ashamed to confess that his heart was beating strongly, that a crowd
+of eager questions trembled upon his lips. He recovered himself after a
+moment.
+
+“Lucille is not with me for the moment,” he said in measured tones. “I
+am detaining you from your guests, Helene. If you will permit me I will
+call upon you.”
+
+“Won’t you join us?” Lord Camperdown asked courteously. “We are only
+a small party--the Portuguese Ambassador and his wife, the Duke of
+Medchester, and Stanley Phillipson.”
+
+Mr. Sabin rose at once.
+
+“I shall be delighted,” he said.
+
+Lord Camperdown hesitated for a moment.
+
+“I present Monsieur le Due de Souspennier, I presume?” he remarked,
+smiling.
+
+Mr. Sabin bowed.
+
+“I am Mr. Sabin,” he said, “at the hotels and places where one travels.
+To my friends I have no longer an incognito. It is not necessary.”
+
+It was a brilliant little supper party, and Mr. Sabin contributed at
+least his share to the general entertainment. Before they dispersed he
+had to bring out his tablets to make notes of his engagements. He stood
+on the top of the steps above the palm-court to wish them good-bye,
+leaning on his stick. Helene turned back and waved her hand.
+
+“He is unchanged,” she murmured, “yet I fear that there must be
+trouble.”
+
+“Why? He seemed cheerful enough,” her husband remarked.
+
+She dropped her voice a little.
+
+“Lucille is in London. She is staying at Dorset House.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+Mr. Sabin was deep in thought. He sat in an easy-chair with his back to
+the window, his hands crossed upon his stick, his eyes fixed upon the
+fire. Duson was moving noiselessly about the room, cutting the morning’s
+supply of newspapers and setting them out upon the table. His master
+was in a mood which he had been taught to respect. It was Mr. Sabin who
+broke the silence.
+
+“Duson!”
+
+“Your Grace!”
+
+“I have always, as you know, ignored your somewhat anomalous position as
+the servant of one man and the slave of a society. The questions which
+I am about to ask you you can answer or not, according to your own
+apprehensions of what is due to each.”
+
+“I thank your Grace!”
+
+“My departure from America seemed to incite the most violent opposition
+on the part of your friends. As you know, it was with a certain amount
+of difficulty that I reached this country. Now, however, I am left
+altogether alone. I have not received a single warning letter. My
+comings and goings, although purposely devoid of the slightest secrecy,
+are absolutely undisturbed. Yet I have some reason to believe that your
+mistress is in London.”
+
+“Your Grace will pardon me,” Duson said, “but there is outside a
+gentleman waiting to see you to whom you might address the same
+questions with better results, for compared with him I know nothing. It
+is Monsieur Felix.”
+
+“Why have you kept him waiting?” Mr. Sabin asked.
+
+“Your Grace was much absorbed,” Duson answered.
+
+Felix was smoking a cigarette, and Mr. Sabin greeted him with a certain
+grim cordiality.
+
+“Is this permitted--this visit?” he asked, himself selecting a cigarette
+and motioning his guest to a chair.
+
+“It is even encouraged,” Felix answered.
+
+“You have perhaps some message?”
+
+“None.”
+
+“I am glad to see you,” Mr. Sabin said. “Just now I am a little puzzled.
+I will put the matter to you. You shall answer or not, at your own
+discretion.”
+
+“I am ready,” Felix declared.
+
+“You know the difficulty with which I escaped from America,” Mr. Sabin
+continued. “Every means which ingenuity could suggest seemed brought to
+bear against me. And every movement was directed, if not from here, from
+some place in Europe. Well, I arrived here four days ago. I live quite
+openly, I have even abjured to some extent my incognito. Yet I have not
+received even a warning letter. I am left absolutely undisturbed.”
+
+Felix looked at him thoughtfully.
+
+“And what do you deduce from this?” he asked.
+
+“I do not like it,” Mr. Sabin answered drily.
+
+“After all,” Felix remarked, “it is to some extent natural. The very
+openness of your life here makes interference with you more difficult,
+and as to warning letters--well, you have proved the uselessness of
+them.”
+
+“Perhaps,” Mr. Sabin answered. “At the same time, if I were a
+superstitious person I should consider this inaction ominous.”
+
+“You must take account also,” Felix said, “of the difference in the
+countries. In England the police system, if not the most infallible
+in the world, is certainly the most incorruptible. There was never a
+country in which security of person and life was so keenly watched over
+as here. In America, up to a certain point, a man is expected to look
+after himself. The same feeling does not prevail here.”
+
+Mr. Sabin assented.
+
+“And therefore,” he remarked, “for the purposes of your friends I should
+consider this a difficult and unpromising country in which to work.”
+
+“Other countries, other methods!” Felix remarked laconically.
+
+“Exactly! It is the new methods which I am anxious to discover,” Mr.
+Sabin said. “No glimmering of them as yet has been vouchsafed to me. Yet
+I believe that I am right in assuming that for the moment London is the
+headquarters of your friends, and that Lucille is here?”
+
+“If that is meant for a question,” Felix said, “I may not answer it.”
+
+Mr. Sabin nodded.
+
+“Yet,” he suggested, “your visit has an object. To discover my plans
+perhaps! You are welcome to them.”
+
+Felix thoughtfully knocked the ashes off his cigarette.
+
+“My visit had an object,” he admitted, “but it was a personal one. I am
+not actually concerned in the doings of those whom you have called my
+friends.”
+
+“We are alone,” Mr. Sabin reminded him. “My time is yours.”
+
+“You and I,” Felix said, “have had our periods of bitter enmity. With
+your marriage to Lucille these, so far as I am concerned, ended for
+ever. I will even admit that in my younger days I was prejudiced against
+you. That has passed away. You have been all your days a bold and
+unscrupulous schemer, but ends have at any rate been worthy ones. To-day
+I am able to regard you with feelings of friendliness. You are the
+husband of my dear sister, and for years I know that you made her very
+happy. I ask you, will you believe in this statement of my attitude
+towards you?”
+
+“I do not for a single moment doubt it,” Mr. Sabin answered.
+
+“You will regard the advice which I am going to offer as disinterested?”
+
+“Certainly!”
+
+“Then I offer it to you earnestly, and with my whole heart. Take the
+next steamer and go back to America.”
+
+“And leave Lucille? Go without making any effort to see her?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+Mr. Sabin was for a moment very serious indeed. The advice given in such
+a manner was full of forebodings to him. The lines from the corners of
+his mouth seemed graven into his face.
+
+“Felix,” he said slowly, “I am sometimes conscious of the fact that I am
+passing into that period of life which we call old age. My ambitions are
+dead, my energies are weakened. For many years I have toiled--the time
+has come for rest. Of all the great passions which I have felt there
+remains but one--Lucille. Life without her is worth nothing to me. I am
+weary of solitude, I am weary of everything except Lucille. How then
+can I listen to such advice? For me it must be Lucille, or that little
+journey into the mists, from which one does not return.”
+
+Felix was silent. The pathos of this thing touched him.
+
+“I will not dispute the right of those who have taken her from me,” Mr.
+Sabin continued, “but I want her back. She is necessary to me. My purse,
+my life, my brains are there to be thrown into the scales. I will buy
+her, or fight for her, or rejoin their ranks myself. But I want her
+back.”
+
+Still Felix was silent. He was looking steadfastly into the fire.
+
+“You have heard me,” Mr. Sabin said.
+
+“I have heard you,” Felix answered. “My advice stands.”
+
+“I know now,” Mr. Sabin said, “that I have a hard task before me. They
+shall have me for a friend or an enemy. I can still make myself felt as
+either. You have nothing more to say?”
+
+“Nothing!”
+
+“Then let us part company,” Mr. Sabin said, “or talk of something more
+cheerful. You depress me, Felix. Let Duson bring us wine. You look like
+a death’s head.”
+
+Felix roused himself.
+
+“You will go your own way,” he said. “Now that you have chosen I will
+tell you this. I am glad. Yes, let Duson bring wine. I will drink to
+your health and to your success. There have been times when men have
+performed miracles. I shall drink to that miracle.”
+
+Duson brought also a letter, which Mr. Sabin, with a nod towards Felix,
+opened. It was from Helene.
+
+     “15 Park Lane, London,
+     “Thursday Morning.
+
+     “My DEAR UNCLE,--
+
+     “I want you to come to luncheon to-day.  The Princess de Catelan is
+     here, and I am expecting also Mr. Brott, the Home Secretary--our
+     one great politician, you know.  Many people say that he is the
+     most interesting man in England, and must be our next Prime Minister.
+     Such people interest you, I know.  Do come.
+
+                                                  “Yours sincerely,
+                                                       “HELENE.”
+
+Mr. Sabin repeated the name to himself as he stood for a moment with the
+letter in his hand.
+
+“Brott! What a name for a statesman! Well, here is your health, Felix. I
+do not often drink wine in the morning, but--”
+
+He broke off in the middle of his sentence. The glass which Felix had
+been in the act of raising to his lips lay shattered upon the floor, and
+a little stream of wine trickled across the carpet. Felix himself seemed
+scarcely conscious of the disaster. His cheeks were white, and he leaned
+across the table towards Mr. Sabin.
+
+“What name did you say--what name?”
+
+Mr. Sabin referred again to the letter which he held in his hand.
+
+“Brott!” he repeated. “He is Home Secretary, I believe.”
+
+“What do you know about him?”
+
+“Nothing,” Mr. Sabin answered. “My niece, the Countess of Camperdown,
+asks me to meet him to-day at luncheon. Explain yourself, my young
+friend. There is a fresh glass by your side.”
+
+Felix poured himself out a glass and drank it off. But he remained
+silent.
+
+“Well?”
+
+Felix picked up his gloves and stick.
+
+“You are asked to meet Mr. Brott at luncheon to-day?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Are you going?”
+
+“Certainly!”
+
+Felix nodded.
+
+“Very good,” he said. “I should advise you to cultivate his
+acquaintance. He is a very extraordinary man.”
+
+“Come, Felix,” Mr. Sabin said. “You owe me something more lucid in the
+way of explanations. Who is he?”
+
+“A statesman--successful, ambitious. He expects to be Prime Minister.”
+
+“And what have I to do with him, or he with me?” Mr. Sabin asked
+quietly.
+
+Felix shook his head.
+
+“I cannot tell you,” he said. “Yet I fancy that you and he may some time
+be drawn together.”
+
+Mr. Sabin asked no more questions, but he promptly sat down and accepted
+his niece’s invitation. When he looked round Felix had gone. He rang the
+bell for Duson and handed him the note.
+
+“My town clothes, Duson,” he ordered. “I am lunching out.”
+
+The man bowed and withdrew. Mr. Sabin remained for a few moments in deep
+thought.
+
+“Brott!” he repeated. “Brott! It is a singular name.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+So this was the man! Mr. Sabin did not neglect his luncheon, nor was he
+ever for a moment unmindful of the grey-headed princess who chatted away
+by his side with all the vivacity of her race and sex. But he watched
+Mr. Brott.
+
+A man this! Mr. Sabin was a judge, and he appraised him rightly. He saw
+through that courteous geniality of tone and gesture; the ready-made
+smile, although it seemed natural enough, did not deceive him.
+Underneath was a man of iron, square-jawed, nervous, forceful. Mr. Brott
+was probably at that time the ablest politician of either party in the
+country. Mr. Sabin knew it. He found himself wondering exactly at what
+point of their lives this man and he would come into contact.
+
+After luncheon Helene brought them together.
+
+“I believe,” she said to Mr. Brott, “that you have never met my UNCLE.
+May I make you formally acquainted? UNCLE, this is Mr. Brott, whom
+you must know a great deal about even though you have been away for so
+long--the Duc de Souspennier.”
+
+The two men bowed and Helene passed on. Mr. Sabin leaned upon his stick
+and watched keenly for any sign in the other’s face. If he expected to
+find it he was disappointed. Either this man had no knowledge of who he
+was, or those things which were to come between them were as yet unborn.
+
+They strolled together after the other guests into the winter gardens,
+which were the envy of every hostess in London. Mr. Sabin lit a
+cigarette, Mr. Brott regretfully declined. He neither smoked nor drank
+wine. Yet he was disposed to be friendly, and selected a seat where they
+were a little apart from the other guests.
+
+“You at least,” he remarked, in answer to an observation of Mr. Sabin’s,
+“are free from the tyranny of politics. I am assuming, of course, that
+your country under its present form of government has lost its hold upon
+you.”
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled.
+
+“It is a doubtful boon,” he said. “It is true that I am practically an
+exile. Republican France has no need of me. Had I been a soldier I could
+still have remained a patriot. But for one whose leanings were towards
+politics, neither my father before me nor I could be of service to our
+country. You should be thankful,” he continued with a slight smile,
+“that you are an Englishman. No constitution in the world can offer so
+much to the politician who is strong enough and fearless enough.”
+
+Mr. Brott glanced towards his twinkling eyes.
+
+“Do you happen to know what my politics are?” he asked.
+
+Mr. Sabin hesitated.
+
+“Your views, I know, are advanced,” he said. “For the rest I have
+been abroad for years. I have lost touch a little with affairs in this
+country.”
+
+“I am afraid,” Mr. Brott said, “that I shall shock you. You are an
+aristocrat of the aristocrats, I a democrat of the democrats. The people
+are the only masters whom I own. They first sent me to Parliament.”
+
+“Yet,” Mr. Sabin remarked, “you are, I understand, in the Cabinet.”
+
+Mr. Brott glanced for a moment around. The Prime Minister was somewhere
+in the winter gardens.
+
+“That,” he declared, “is an accident. I happened to be the only man
+available who could do the work when Lord Kilbrooke died. I am telling
+you only what is an open secret. But I am afraid I am boring you. Shall
+we join the others?”
+
+“Not unless you yourself are anxious to,” Mr. Sabin begged. “It is
+scarcely fair to detain you talking to an old man when there are so many
+charming women here. But I should be sorry for you to think me hidebound
+in my prejudices. You must remember that the Revolution decimated my
+family. It was a long time ago, but the horror of it is still a live
+thing.”
+
+“Yet it was the natural outcome,” Mr. Brott said, “of the things
+which went before. Such hideous misgovernment as generations of your
+countrymen had suffered was logically bound to bring its own reprisal.”
+
+“There is truth in what you say,” Mr. Sabin admitted. He did not want to
+talk about the French Revolution.
+
+“You are a stranger in London, are you not?” Mr. Brott asked.
+
+“I feel myself one,” Mr. Sabin answered. “I have been away for a few
+years, and I do not think that there is a city in the world where social
+changes are so rapid. I should perhaps except the cities of the country
+from which I have come. But then America is a universe of itself.”
+
+For an instant Mr. Brott gave signs of the man underneath. The air of
+polite interest had left his face. He glanced swiftly and keenly at his
+companion. Mr. Sabin’s expression was immutable. It was he who scored,
+for he marked the change, whilst Mr. Brott could not be sure whether he
+had noticed it or not.
+
+“You have been living in America, then?”
+
+“For several years--yes.”
+
+“It is a country,” Mr. Brott said, “which I am particularly anxious to
+visit. I see my chances, however, grow fewer and fewer as the years go
+by.”
+
+“For one like yourself,” Mr. Sabin said, “whose instincts and sympathies
+are wholly with the democracy, a few months in America would be very
+well spent.”
+
+“And you,” Mr. Brott remarked, “how did you get on with the people?”
+
+Mr. Sabin traced a pattern with his stick upon the marble floor.
+
+“I lived in the country,” he said, “I played golf and read and rested.”
+
+“Were you anywhere near New York?” Mr. Brott asked.
+
+“A few hours’ journey only,” Mr. Sabin answered. “My home was in a very
+picturesque part, near Lenox.”
+
+Mr. Brott leaned a little forward.
+
+“You perhaps know then a lady who spent some time in that
+neighbourhood--a Mrs. James Peterson. Her husband was, I believe, the
+American consul in Vienna.”
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled very faintly. His face betrayed no more than a natural
+and polite interest. There was nothing to indicate the fact that his
+heart was beating like the heart of a young man, that the blood was
+rushing hot through his veins.
+
+“Yes,” he said, “I know her very well. Is she in London?”
+
+Mr. Brott hesitated. He seemed a little uncertain how to continue.
+
+“To tell you the truth,” he said, “I believe that she has reasons for
+desiring her present whereabouts to remain unknown. I should perhaps not
+have mentioned her name at all. It was, I fancy, indiscreet of me. The
+coincidence of hearing you mention the name of the place where I believe
+she resided surprised my question. With your permission we will abandon
+the subject.”
+
+“You disappoint me,” Mr. Sabin said quietly. “It would have given
+me much pleasure to have resumed my acquaintance with the lady in
+question.”
+
+“You will, without doubt, have an opportunity,” Mr. Brott said, glancing
+at his watch and suddenly rising. “Dear me, how the time goes.”
+
+He rose to his feet. Mr. Sabin also rose.
+
+“Must I understand,” he said in a low tone, “that you are not at liberty
+to give me Mrs. Peterson’s address?”
+
+“I am not at liberty even,” Mr. Brott answered, with a frown, “to
+mention her name. It will give me great pleasure, Duke, to better my
+acquaintance with you. Will you dine with me at the House of Commons one
+night next week?”
+
+“I shall be charmed,” Mr. Sabin answered. “My address for the next
+few days is at the Carlton. I am staying there under my family name of
+Sabin--Mr. Sabin. It is a fancy of mine--it has been ever since I became
+an alien--to use my title as little as possible.”
+
+Mr. Brott looked for a moment puzzled.
+
+“Your pseudonym,” he remarked thoughtfully, “seems very familiar to me.”
+
+Mr. Sabin shrugged his shoulders.
+
+“It is a family name,” he remarked, “but I flattered myself that it was
+at least uncommon.”
+
+“Fancy, no doubt,” Mr. Brott remarked, turning to make his adieux to his
+hostess.
+
+Mr. Sabin joined a fresh group of idlers under the palms. Mr. Brott
+lingered over his farewells.
+
+“Your UNCLE, Lady Camperdown,” he said, “is delightful. I enjoy meeting
+new types, and he represents to me most perfectly the old order of
+French aristocracy.”
+
+“I am glad,” Helene said, “that you found him interesting. I felt sure
+you would. In fact, I asked him especially to meet you.”
+
+“You are the most thoughtful of hostesses,” he assured her. “By the bye,
+your UNCLE has just told me the name by which he is known at the hotel.
+Mr. Sabin! Sabin! It recalls something to my mind. I cannot exactly
+remember what.”
+
+She smiled upon him. People generally forgot things when Helene smiled.
+
+“It is an odd fancy of his to like his title so little,” she remarked.
+“At heart no one is prouder of their family and antecedents. I have
+heard him say, though, that an exile had better leave behind him even
+his name.”
+
+“Sabin!” Mr. Brott repeated. “Sabin!”
+
+“It is an old family name,” she murmured.
+
+His face suddenly cleared. She knew that he had remembered. But he took
+his leave with no further reference to it.
+
+“Sabin!” he repeated to himself when alone in his carriage. “That was
+the name of the man who was supposed to be selling plans to the German
+Government. Poor Renshaw was in a terrible stew about it. Sabin! An
+uncommon name.”
+
+He had ordered the coachman to drive to the House of Commons. Suddenly
+he pulled the check-string.
+
+“Call at Dorset House,” he directed.
+
+      *          *            *          *            *
+
+Mr. Sabin lingered till nearly the last of the guests had gone. Then he
+led Helene once more into the winter gardens.
+
+“May I detain you for one moment’s gossip?” he asked. “I see your
+carriage at the door.”
+
+She laughed.
+
+“It is nothing,” she declared. “I must drive in the Park for an hour.
+One sees one’s friends, and it is cool and refreshing after these heated
+rooms. But at any time. Talk to me as long as you will, and then I will
+drop you at the Carlton.”
+
+“It is of Brott!” he remarked. “Ah, I thank you, I will smoke. Your
+husband’s taste in cigarettes is excellent.”
+
+“Perhaps mine!” she laughed.
+
+Mr. Sabin shrugged his shoulders.
+
+“In either case I congratulate you. This man Brott. He interests me.”
+
+“He interests every one. Why not? He is a great personality.”
+
+“Politically,” Mr. Sabin said, “the gauge of his success is of course
+the measure of the man. But he himself--what manner of a man is he?”
+
+She tapped with her fingers upon the little table by their side.
+
+“He is rich,” she said, “and an uncommon mixture of the student and the
+man of society. He refuses many more invitations than he accepts, he
+entertains very seldom but very magnificently. He has never been known
+to pay marked attentions to any woman, even the scandal of the clubs has
+passed him by. What else can I say about him, I wonder?” she continued
+reflectively. “Nothing, I think, except this. He is a strong man. You
+know that that counts for much.”
+
+Mr. Sabin was silent. Perhaps he was measuring his strength in some
+imagined encounter with this man. Something in his face alarmed Helene.
+She suddenly leaned forward and looked at him more closely.
+
+“UNCLE,” she exclaimed in a low voice, “there is something on your mind.
+Do not tell me that once more you are in the maze, that again you have
+schemes against this country.”
+
+He smiled at her sadly enough, but she was reassured.
+
+“You need have no fear,” he told her. “With politics--I have finished.
+Why I am here, what I am here for I will tell you very soon. It is to
+find one whom I have lost--and who is dear to me. Forgive me if for
+to-day I say no more. Come, if you will you shall drive me to my hotel.”
+
+He offered his arm with the courtly grace which he knew so well how to
+assume. Together they passed out to her carriage.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+“After all,” Lady Carey sighed, throwing down a racing calendar
+and lighting a cigarette, “London is the only thoroughly civilized
+Anglo-Saxon capital in the world. Please don’t look at me like that,
+Duchess. I know--this is your holy of holies, but the Duke smokes
+here--I’ve seen him. My cigarettes are very tiny and very harmless.”
+
+The Duchess, who wore gold-rimmed spectacles, and was a person of
+weight in the councils of the Primrose League, went calmly on with her
+knitting.
+
+“My dear Muriel,” she said, “if my approval or disapproval was of the
+slightest moment to you, it is not your smoking of which I should first
+complain. I know, however, that you consider yourself a privileged
+person. Pray do exactly as you like, but don’t drop the ashes upon the
+carpet.”
+
+Lady Carey laughed softly.
+
+“I suppose I am rather a thorn in your side as a relative,” she
+remarked. “You must put it down to the roving blood of my ancestors. I
+could no more live the life of you other women than I could fly. I must
+have excitement, movement, all the time.”
+
+A tall, heavily built man, who had been reading some letters at the
+other end of the room, came sauntering up to them.
+
+“Well,” he said, “you assuredly live up to your principles, for you
+travel all over the world as though it were one vast playground.”
+
+“And sometimes,” she remarked, “my journeys are not exactly successful.
+I know that that is what you are dying to say.”
+
+“On the contrary,” he said, “I do not blame you at all for this last
+affair. You brought Lucille here, which was excellent. Your failure as
+regards Mr. Sabin is scarcely to be fastened upon you. It is Horser whom
+we hold responsible for that.”
+
+She laughed.
+
+“Poor Horser! It was rather rough to pit a creature like that against
+Souspennier.”
+
+The man shrugged his shoulders.
+
+“Horser,” he said, “may not be brilliant, but he had a great
+organisation at his back. Souspennier was without friends or influence.
+The contest should scarcely have been so one-sided. To tell you the
+truth, my dear Muriel, I am more surprised that you yourself should have
+found the task beyond you.”
+
+Lady Carey’s face darkened.
+
+“It was too soon after the loss of Lucille,” she said, “and besides,
+there was his vanity to be reckoned with. It was like a challenge to
+him, and he had taken up the glove before I returned to New York.”
+
+The Duchess looked up from her work.
+
+“Have you had any conversation with my husband, Prince?” she asked.
+
+The Prince of Saxe Leinitzer twirled his heavy moustache and sank into a
+chair between the two women.
+
+“I have had a long talk with him,” he announced. “And the result?” the
+Duchess asked.
+
+“The result I fear you would scarcely consider satisfactory,” the Prince
+declared. “The moment that I hinted at the existence of--er--conditions
+of which you, Duchess, are aware, he showed alarm, and I had all that
+I could do to reassure him. I find it everywhere amongst your
+aristocracy--this stubborn confidence in the existence of the reigning
+order of things, this absolute detestation of anything approaching
+intrigue.”
+
+“My dear man, I hope you don’t include me,” Lady Carey exclaimed.
+
+“You, Lady Muriel,” he answered, with a slow smile, “are an exception to
+all rules. No, you are a rule by yourself.”
+
+“To revert to the subject then for a moment,” the Duchess said stiffly.
+“You have made no progress with the Duke?”
+
+“None whatever,” Saxe Leinitzer admitted. “He was sufficiently emphatic
+to inspire me with every caution. Even now I have doubts as to whether
+I have altogether reassured him. I really believe, dear Duchess, that we
+should be better off if you could persuade him to go and live upon his
+estates.”
+
+The Duchess smiled grimly.
+
+“Whilst the House of Lords exists,” she remarked, “you will never
+succeed in keeping Algernon away from London. He is always on the point
+of making a speech, although he never does it.”
+
+“I have heard of that speech,” Lady Carey drawled, from her low seat.
+“It is to be a thoroughly enlightening affair. All the great social
+questions are to be permanently disposed of. The Prime Minister will
+come on his knees and beg Algernon to take his place.”
+
+The Duchess looked up over her knitting.
+
+“Algernon is at least in earnest,” she remarked drily. “And he has the
+good conscience of a clean living and honest man.”
+
+“What an unpleasant possession it must be,” Lady Carey remarked sweetly.
+“I disposed of my conscience finally many years ago. I am not sure, but
+I believe that it was the Prince to whom I entrusted the burying of it.
+By the bye, Lucille will be here directly, I suppose. Is she to be told
+of Souspennier’s arrival in London?”
+
+“I imagine,” the Prince said, with knitted brows, “that it will not be
+wise to keep it from her. It is impossible to conceal her whereabouts,
+and the papers will very shortly acquaint her with his.”
+
+“And,” Lady Carey asked, “how does the little affair progress?”
+
+“Admirably,” the Prince answered. “Already some of the Society papers
+are beginning to chatter about the friendship existing between a Cabinet
+Minister and a beautiful Hungarian lady of title, etc., etc. The fact of
+it is that Brott is in deadly earnest. He gives himself away every time.
+If Lucille has not lost old cleverness she will be able to twist him
+presently around her little finger.”
+
+“If only some one would twist him on the rack,” the Duchess murmured
+vindictively. “I tried to read one of his speeches the other day. It was
+nothing more nor less than blasphemy. I do not think that I am naturally
+a cruel woman, but I would hand such men over to the public executioner
+with joy.”
+
+Lucille came in, as beautiful as ever, but with tired lines under her
+full dark eyes. She sank into a low chair with listless grace.
+
+“Reginald Brott again, I suppose,” she remarked curtly. “I wish the man
+had never existed.”
+
+“That is a very cruel speech, Lucille,” the Prince said, with a
+languishing glance towards her, “for if it had not been for Brott we
+should never have dared to call you out from your seclusion.”
+
+“Then more heartily than ever,” Lucille declared, “I wish the man had
+never been born. You cannot possibly flatter yourself, Prince, that your
+summons was a welcome one.”
+
+He shrugged his shoulders.
+
+“I shall never, be able to believe,” he said, “that the Countess
+Radantz was able to do more than support existence in a small American
+town--without society, with no scope for her ambitions, detached
+altogether from the whole civilized world.”
+
+“Which only goes to prove, Prince,” Lucille remarked contemptuously,
+“that you do not understand me in the least. As a place of residence
+Lenox would compare very favourably with--say Homburg, and for
+companionship you forget my husband. I never met the woman yet who did
+not prefer the company of one man, if only it were the right one, to the
+cosmopolitan throng we call society.”
+
+“It sounds idyllic, but very gauche,” Lady Carey remarked drily. “In
+effect it is rather a blow on the cheek for you, Prince. Of course you
+know that the Prince is in love with you, Lucille?”
+
+“I wish he were,” she answered, looking lazily out of the window.
+
+He bent over her.
+
+“Why?”
+
+“I would persuade him to send me home again,” she answered coldly.
+
+The Duchess looked up from her knitting. “Your husband has saved you the
+journey,” she remarked, “even if you were able to work upon the Prince’s
+good nature to such an extent.”
+
+Lucille started round eagerly.
+
+“What do you mean?” she cried.
+
+“Your husband is in London,” the Duchess answered.
+
+Lucille laughed with the gaiety of a child. Like magic the lines from
+beneath her eyes seemed to have vanished. Lady Carey watched her with
+pale cheeks and malevolent expression.
+
+“Come, Prince,” she cried mockingly, “it was only a week ago that you
+assured me that my husband could not leave America. Already he is in
+London. I must go to see him. Oh, I insist upon it.”
+
+Saxe Leinitzer glanced towards the Duchess. She laid down her knitting.
+
+“My dear Countess,” she said firmly, “I beg that you will listen to me
+carefully. I speak to you for your own good, and I believe I may add,
+Prince, that I speak with authority.”
+
+“With authority!” the Prince echoed.
+
+“We all,” the Duchess continued, “look upon your husband’s arrival as
+inopportune and unfortunate. We are all agreed that you must be kept
+apart. Certain obligations have been laid upon you. You could not
+possibly fulfil them with a husband at your elbow. The matter will be
+put plainly before your husband, as I am now putting it before you. He
+will be warned not to attempt to see or communicate with you as your
+husband. If he or you disobey the consequences will be serious.”
+
+Lucille shrugged her shoulders.
+
+“It is easy to talk,” she said, “but you will not find it easy to keep
+Victor away when he has found out where I am.”
+
+The Prince intervened.
+
+“We have no objection to your meeting,” he said, “but it must be as
+acquaintances. There must be no intermission or slackening in your task,
+and that can only be properly carried out by the Countess Radantz and
+from Dorset House.”
+
+Lucille smothered her disappointment.
+
+“Dear me,” she said. “You will find Victor a little hard to persuade.”
+
+There was a moment’s silence. Then the Prince spoke slowly, and watching
+carefully the effect of his words upon Lucille.
+
+“Countess,” he said, “it has been our pleasure to make of your task so
+far as possible a holiday. Yet perhaps it is wiser to remind you that
+underneath the glove is an iron hand. We do not often threaten, but
+we brook no interference. We have the means to thwart it. I bear no
+ill-will to your husband, but to you I say this. If he should be so mad
+as to defy us, to incite you to disobedience, he must pay the penalty.”
+
+A servant entered.
+
+“Mr. Reginald Brott is in the small drawing-room, your Grace,” he
+announced. “He enquired for the Countess Radantz.”
+
+Lucille rose. When the servant had disappeared she turned round for a
+moment, and faced the Prince. A spot of colour burned in her cheeks, her
+eyes were bright with anger.
+
+“I shall remember your words, Prince,” she said. “So far from mine
+being, however, a holiday task, it is one of the most wearisome and
+unpleasant I ever undertook. And in return for your warnings let me tell
+you this. If you should bring any harm upon my husband you shall answer
+for it all your days to me. I will do my duty. Be careful that you do
+not exceed yours.”
+
+She swept out of the room. Lady Carey laughed mockingly at the Prince.
+
+“Poor Ferdinand!” she exclaimed.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+He had been kept waiting longer than usual, and he had somehow the
+feeling that his visit was ill-timed, when at last she came to him. He
+looked up eagerly as she entered the little reception room which he had
+grown to know so well during the last few weeks, and it struck him for
+the first time that her welcome was a little forced, her eyes a little
+weary.
+
+“I haven’t,” he said apologetically, “the least right to be here.”
+
+“At least,” she murmured, “I may be permitted to remind you that you are
+here without an invitation.”
+
+“The worse luck,” he said, “that one should be necessary.”
+
+“This is the one hour of the day,” she remarked, sinking into a large
+easy-chair, “which I devote to repose. How shall I preserve my fleeting
+youth if you break in upon it in this ruthless manner?”
+
+“If I could only truthfully say that I was sorry,” he answered, “but I
+can’t. I am here--and I would rather be here than anywhere else in the
+world.”
+
+She looked at him with curving lips; and even he, who had watched her
+often, could not tell whether that curve was of scorn or mirth.
+
+“They told me,” she said impressively, “that you were different--a
+woman-hater, honest, gruff, a little cynical. Yet those are the speeches
+of your salad days. What a disenchantment!”
+
+“The things which one invents when one is young,” he said, “come perhaps
+fresh from the heart in later life. The words may sound the same, but
+there is a difference.”
+
+“Come,” she said, “you are improving. That at any rate is ingenious.
+Suppose you tell me now what has brought you here before four o’clock,
+when I am not fit to be seen?”
+
+He smiled. She shrugged her shoulders.
+
+“I mean it. I haven’t either my clothes or my manners on yet. Come,
+explain.”
+
+“I met a man who interested me,” he answered. “He comes from America,
+from Lenox!”
+
+He saw her whiten. He saw her fingers clutch the sides of her chair.
+
+“From Lenox? And his name?”
+
+“The Duke of Souspennier! He takes himself so seriously that he even
+travels incognito. At the hotel he calls himself Mr. Sabin.”
+
+“Indeed!”
+
+“I wondered whether you might not know him?”
+
+“Yes, I know him.”
+
+“And in connection with this man,” Brott continued, “I have something in
+the nature of a confession to make. I forgot for a moment your request.
+I even mentioned your name.”
+
+The pallor had spread to her cheeks, even to her lips. Yet her eyes were
+soft and brilliant, so brilliant that they fascinated him.
+
+“What did he say? What did he ask?”
+
+“He asked for your address. Don’t be afraid. I made some excuse. I did
+not give it.”
+
+For the life of him he could not tell whether she was pleased or
+disappointed. She had turned her shoulder to him. She was looking
+steadily out of the window, and he could not see her face.
+
+“Why are you curious about him?” she asked.
+
+“I wish I knew. I think only because he came from Lenox.”
+
+She turned her face slowly round towards him. He was astonished to see
+the dark rings under her eyes, the weariness of her smile.
+
+“The Duke of Souspennier,” she said slowly, “is an old and a dear friend
+of mine. When you tell me that he is in London I am anxious because
+there are many here who are not his friends--who have no cause to love
+him.”
+
+“I was wrong then,” he said, “not to give him your address.”
+
+“You were right,” she answered. “I am anxious that he should not know
+it. You will remember this?” He rose and bowed over her hand.
+
+“This has been a selfish interlude,” he said. “I have destroyed your
+rest, and I almost fear that I have also disturbed your peace of mind.
+Let me take my leave and pray that you may recover both.”
+
+She shook her head.
+
+“Do not leave me,” she said. “I am low-spirited. You shall stay and
+cheer me.”
+
+There was a light in his eyes which few people would have recognised.
+She rose with a little laugh and stood leaning towards the fire, her
+elbow upon the broad mantel, tall, graceful, alluring. Her soft crimson
+gown, with its wealth of old lace, fell around her in lines and curves
+full of grace. The pallor of her face was gone now--the warmth of the
+fire burned her cheeks. Her voice became softer.
+
+“Sit down and talk to me,” she murmured. “Do you remember the old days,
+when you were a very timid young secretary of Sir George Nomsom, and
+I was a maid-of-honour at the Viennese Court? Dear me, how you have
+changed!”
+
+“Time,” he said, “will not stand still for all of us. Yet my memory
+tells me how possible it would be--for indeed those days seem but as
+yesterday.”
+
+He looked up at her with a sudden jealousy. His tone shook with passion.
+No one would have recognised Brott now. In his fiercest hour of debate,
+his hour of greatest trial, he had worn his mask, always master of
+himself and his speech. And now he had cast it off. His eyes were
+hungry, his lips twitched.
+
+“As yesterday! Lucille, I could kill you when I think of those days. For
+twenty years your kiss has lain upon my lips--and you--with you--it has
+been different.”
+
+She laughed softly upon him, laughed more with her eyes than with her
+lips. She watched him curiously.
+
+“Dear me!” she murmured, “what would you have? I am a woman--I have been
+a woman all my days, and the memory of one kiss grows cold. So I will
+admit that with me--it has been different. Come! What then?”
+
+He groaned.
+
+“I wonder,” he said, “what miserable fate, what cursed stroke of fortune
+brought you once more into my life?”
+
+She threw her head back and laughed at him, this time heartily,
+unaffectedly.
+
+“What adorable candour!” she exclaimed. “My dear friend, how amiable you
+are.”
+
+He looked at her steadfastly, and somehow the laugh died away from her
+lips.
+
+“Lucille, will you marry me?”
+
+“Marry you? I? Certainly not.”
+
+“And why not?”
+
+“For a score of reasons, if you want them,” she answered. “First,
+because I think it is delightful to have you for a friend. I can never
+quite tell what you are going to do or say. As a husband I am almost
+sure that you would be monotonous. But then, how could you avoid it?
+It is madness to think of destroying a pleasant friendship in such a
+manner.”
+
+“You are mocking me,” he said sadly.
+
+“Well,” she said, “why not? Your own proposal is a mockery.”
+
+“A mockery! My proposal!”
+
+“Yes,” she answered steadily. “You know quite well that the very
+thought of such a thing between you and me is an absurdity. I abhor your
+politics, I detest your party. You are ambitious, I know. You intend to
+be Prime Minister, a people’s Prime Minister. Well, for my part, I hate
+the people. I am an aristocrat. As your wife I should be in a perfectly
+ridiculous position. How foolish! You have led me into talking of this
+thing seriously. Let us forget all this rubbish.”
+
+He stood before her--waiting patiently, his mouth close set, his manner
+dogged with purpose.
+
+“It is not rubbish,” he said. “It is true that I shall be Prime
+Minister. It is true also that you will be my wife.”
+
+She shrank back from him--uneasily. The fire in his eyes, the ring in
+his tone distressed her.
+
+“As for my politics, you do not understand them. But you shall! I will
+convert you to my way of thinking. Yes, I will do that. The cause of the
+people, of freedom, is the one great impulse which beats through all the
+world. You too shall hear it.”
+
+“Thank you,” she said. “I have no wish to hear it. I do not believe in
+what you call freedom for the people. I have discovered in America how
+uncomfortable a people’s country can be.”
+
+“Yet you married an American. You call yourself still the Countess
+Radantz... but you married Mr. James B. Peterson!”
+
+“It is true, my friend,” she answered. “But the American in question
+was a person of culture and intelligence, and at heart he was no more
+a democrat than I am. Further, I am an extravagant woman, and he was a
+millionaire.”
+
+“And you, after his death, without necessity--went to bury yourself in
+his country.”
+
+“Why not?”
+
+“I am jealous of every year of your life which lies hidden from me,” he
+said slowly.
+
+“Dear me--how uncomfortable!”
+
+“Before you--reappeared,” he said, “I had learnt, yes I had learnt to do
+without you. I had sealed up the one chapter of my life which had in
+it anything to do with sentiment. Your coming has altered all that. You
+have disturbed the focus of my ambitions. Lucille! I have loved you for
+more than half a lifetime. Isn’t it time I had my reward?”
+
+He took a quick step towards her. In his tone was the ring of mastery,
+the light in his eyes was compelling. She shrank back, but he seized one
+of her hands. It lay between his, a cold dead thing.
+
+“What have my politics to do with it?” he asked fiercely. “You are not
+an Englishwoman. Be content that I shall set you far above these gods of
+my later life. There is my work to be done, and I shall do it. Let me
+be judge of these things. Believe me that it is a great work. If you are
+ambitious--give your ambitions into my keeping, and I will gratify them.
+Only I cannot bear this suspense-these changing moods. Marry me-now at
+once, or send me back to the old life.”
+
+She drew her fingers away, and sank down into her easy-chair. Her head
+was buried in her hands. Was she thinking or weeping? He could not
+decide. While he hesitated she looked up, and he saw that there was no
+trace of tears upon her face.
+
+“You are too masterful,” she said gently. “I will not marry you. I will
+not give myself body and soul to any man. Yet that is what you ask. I am
+not a girl. My opinions are as dear to me in their way as yours are to
+you. You want me to close my eyes while you drop sugar plums into my
+mouth. That is not my idea of life. I think that you had better go away.
+Let us forget these things.”
+
+“Very well,” he answered. “It shall be as you say.” He did not wait for
+her to ring, nor did he attempt any sort of farewell. He simply took
+up his hat, and before she could realise his intention he had left the
+room. Lucille sat quite still, looking into the fire.
+
+“If only,” she murmured, “if only this were the end.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+Duson entered the sitting-room, noiseless as ever, with pale,
+passionless face, the absolute prototype of the perfect French servant,
+to whom any expression of vigorous life seems to savour of presumption.
+He carried a small silver salver, on which reposed a card.
+
+“The gentleman is in the ante-room, sir,” he announced.
+
+Mr. Sabin took up the card and studied it.
+
+“Lord Robert Foulkes.”
+
+“Do I know this gentleman, Duson?” Mr. Sabin asked.
+
+“Not to my knowledge, sir,” the man answered.
+
+“You must show him in,” Mr. Sabin said, with a sigh. “In this country
+one must never be rude to a lord.”
+
+Duson obeyed. Lord Robert Foulkes was a small young man, very carefully
+groomed, nondescript in appearance. He smiled pleasantly at Mr. Sabin
+and drew off his gloves.
+
+“How do you do, Mr. Sabin?” he said. “Don’t remember me, I daresay. Met
+you once or twice last time you were in London. I wish I could say that
+I was glad to see you here again.”
+
+Mr. Sabin’s forehead lost its wrinkle. He knew where he was now.
+
+“Sit down, Lord Robert,” he begged. “I do not remember you, it is
+true, but I am getting an old man. My memory sometimes plays me strange
+tricks.”
+
+The young man looked at Mr. Sabin and laughed softly. Indeed, Mr. Sabin
+had very little the appearance of an old man. He was leaning with
+both hands clasped upon his stick, his face alert, his eyes bright and
+searching.
+
+“You carry your years well, Mr. Sabin. Yet while we are on the subject,
+do you know that London is the unhealthiest city in the world?”
+
+“I am always remarkably well here,” Mr. Sabin said drily.
+
+“London has changed since your last visit,” Lord Robert said, with a
+gentle smile. “Believe me if I say--as your sincere well-wisher--that
+there is something in the air at present positively unwholesome to you.
+I am not sure that unwholesome is not too weak a word.”
+
+“Is this official?” Mr. Sabin asked quietly.
+
+The young man fingered the gold chain which disappeared in his trousers
+pocket.
+
+“Need I introduce myself?” he asked.
+
+“Quite unnecessary,” Mr. Sabin assured him. “Permit me to reflect for
+a few minutes. Your visit comes upon me as a surprise. Will you smoke?
+There are cigarettes at your elbow.”
+
+“I am entirely at your service,” Lord Robert answered. “Thanks, I will
+try one of your cigarettes. You were always famous for your tobacco.”
+
+There was a short silence. Mr. Sabin had seldom found it more difficult
+to see the way before him.
+
+“I imagined,” he said at last, “from several little incidents which
+occurred previous to my leaving New York that my presence here was
+regarded as superfluous. Do you know, I believe that I could convince
+you to the contrary.”
+
+Lord Robert raised his eyebrows.
+
+“Mr. dear Mr. Sabin,” he said, “pray reflect. I am a messenger. No more!
+A hired commissionaire!”
+
+Mr. Sabin bowed.
+
+“You are an ambassador!” he said.
+
+The young man shook his head.
+
+“You magnify my position,” he declared. “My errand is done when I remind
+you that it is many years since you visited Paris, that Vienna is as
+fascinating a city as ever, and Pesth a few hours journey beyond. But
+London--no, London is not possible for you. After the seventh day from
+this London would be worse than impossible.”
+
+Mr. Sabin smoked thoughtfully for a few moments.
+
+“Lord Robert,” he said, “I have, I believe, the right of a personal
+appeal. I desire to make it.”
+
+Lord Robert looked positively distressed.
+
+“My dear sir,” he said, “the right of appeal, any right of any sort,
+belongs only to those within the circle.”
+
+“Exactly,” Mr. Sabin agreed. “I claim to belong there.”
+
+Lord Roberts shrugged his shoulders.
+
+“You force me to remind you,” he said, “of a certain decree--a decree of
+expulsion passed five years ago, and of which I presume due notification
+was given to you.”
+
+Mr. Sabin shook his head very slowly.
+
+“I deny the legality of that decree,” he said. “There can be no such
+thing as expulsion.”
+
+“There was Lefanu,” Lord Robert murmured.
+
+“He died,” Mr. Sabin answered. “That was reasonable enough.”
+
+“Your services had been great,” Lord Robert said, “and your fault was
+but venial.”
+
+“Nevertheless,” Mr. Sabin said, “the one was logical, the other is not.”
+
+“You claim, then,” the young man said, “to be still within the circle?”
+
+“Certainly!”
+
+“You are aware that this is a very dangerous claim?”
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled, but he said nothing. Lord Robert hastened to excuse
+himself.
+
+“I beg your pardon,” he said. “I should have known better than to have
+used such a word to you. Permit me to take my leave.”
+
+Mr. Sabin rose.
+
+“I thank you, sir,” he said, “for the courteous manner in which you have
+discharged your mission.”
+
+Lord Robert bowed.
+
+“My good wishes,” he said, “are yours.”
+
+Mr. Sabin when alone called Duson to him.
+
+“Have you any report to make, Duson?” he asked.
+
+“None, sir!”
+
+Mr. Sabin dismissed him impatiently.
+
+“After all, I am getting old. He is young and he is strong--a worthy
+antagonist. Come, let us see what this little volume has to say about
+him.”
+
+He turned over the pages rapidly and read aloud.
+
+“Reginald Cyril Brott, born 18--, son of John Reginald Brott, Esq.,
+of Manchester. Educated at Harrow and Merton College, Cambridge, M.A.,
+LL.D., and winner of the Rudlock History Prize. Also tenth wrangler.
+Entered the diplomatic service on leaving college, and served as junior
+attache at Vienna.”
+
+Mr. Sabin laid down the volume, and made a little calculation. At the
+end of it he had made a discovery. His face was very white and set.
+
+“I was at Petersburg,” he muttered. “Now I think of it, I heard
+something of a young English attache. But--”
+
+He touched the bell.
+
+“Duson, a carriage!”
+
+At Camperdown House he learned that Helene was out--shopping, the
+hall porter believed. Mr. Sabin drove slowly down Bond Street, and was
+rewarded by seeing her brougham outside a famous milliner’s. He waited
+for her upon the pavement. Presently she came out and smiled her
+greetings upon him.
+
+“You were waiting for me?” she asked.
+
+“I saw your carriage.”
+
+“How delightful of you. Let me take you back to luncheon.”
+
+He shook his head.
+
+“I am afraid,” he said, “that I should be poor company. May I drive home
+with you, at any rate, when you have finished?”
+
+“Of course you may, and for luncheon we shall be quite alone, unless
+somebody drops in.”
+
+He took his seat beside her in the carriage. “Helene,” he said, “I am
+interested in Mr. Brott. No, don’t look at me like that. You need have
+no fear. My interest is in him as a man, and not as a politician. The
+other days are over and done with now. I am on the defensive and hard
+pressed.”
+
+Her face was bright with sympathy. She forgot everything except her
+old admiration for him. In the clashing of their wills the victory had
+remained with her. And as for those things which he had done, the cause
+at least had been a great one. Her happiness had come to her through
+him. She bore him no grudge for that fierce opposition which, after all,
+had been fruitless.
+
+“I believe you, UNCLE,” she said affectionately. “If I can help you in
+any way I will.”
+
+“This Mr. Brott! He goes very little into society, I believe.”
+
+“Scarcely ever,” she answered. “He came to us because my husband is one
+of the few Radical peers.”
+
+“You have not heard of any recent change in him--in this respect?”
+
+“Well, I did hear Wolfendon chaffing him the other day about somebody,”
+ she said. “Oh, I know. He has been going often to the Duchess of
+Dorset’s. He is such an ultra Radical, you know, and the Dorsets are
+fierce Tories. Wolfendon says it is a most unwise thing for a good
+Radical who wants to retain the confidence of the people to be seen
+about with a Duchess.”
+
+“The Duchess of Dorset,” Mr. Sabin remarked, “must be, well--a
+middle-aged woman.”
+
+Helene laughed.
+
+“She is sixty if she is a day. But I daresay she herself is not the
+attraction. There is a very beautiful woman staying with her--the
+Countess Radantz. A Hungarian, I believe.”
+
+Mr. Sabin sat quite still. His face was turned away from Helene. She
+herself was smiling out of the window at some acquaintances.
+
+“I wonder if there is anything more that I can tell you?” she asked
+presently.
+
+He turned towards her with a faint smile.
+
+“You have told me,” he said, “all that I want to know.”
+
+She was struck by the change in his face, the quietness of his tone was
+ominous.
+
+“Am I meant to understand?” she said dubiously “because I don’t in the
+least. It seems to me that have told you nothing. I cannot imagine what
+Mr. Brott and you have in common.”
+
+“If your invitation to lunch still holds good,” he said, “may I accept
+it? Afterwards, if you can spare me a few minutes I will make things
+quite clear to you.”
+
+She laughed.
+
+“You will find,” she declared, “that I shall leave you little peace for
+luncheon. I am consumed with curiosity.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+Nevertheless, Mr. Sabin lunched with discretion, as usual, but with no
+lack of appetite. It chanced that they were alone. Lord Camperdown was
+down in the Midlands for a day’s hunting, and Helene had ensured their
+seclusion from any one who might drop in by a whispered word to the
+hall porter as they passed into the house. It seemed to her that she had
+never found Mr. Sabin more entertaining, had never more appreciated his
+rare gift of effortless and anecdotal conversation. What a marvelous
+memory! He knew something of every country from the inside. He had been
+brought at various times during his long diplomatic career into contact
+with most of the interesting people in the world. He knew well how
+to separate the grain from the chaff according to the tastes of
+his listener. The pathos of his present position appealed to her
+irresistibly. The possibilities of his life had been so great, fortune
+had treated him always so strangely. The greatest of his schemes had
+come so near to success, the luck had turned against him only at the
+very moment of fruition. Helene felt very kindly towards her UNCLE as
+she led him, after luncheon, to a quiet corner of the winter garden,
+where a servant had already arranged a table with coffee and liqueurs
+and cigarettes. Unscrupulous all his life, there had been an element of
+greatness in all his schemes. Even his failures had been magnificent,
+for his successes he himself had seldom reaped the reward. And now in
+the autumn of his days she felt dimly that he was threatened with some
+evil thing against which he stood at bay single-handed, likely perhaps
+to be overpowered. For there was something in his face just now which
+was strange to her.
+
+“Helene,” he said quietly, “I suppose that you, who knew nothing of
+me till you left school, have looked upon me always as a selfish,
+passionless creature--a weaver of plots, perhaps sometimes a dreamer of
+dreams, but a person wholly self-centred, always self-engrossed?”
+
+She shook her head.
+
+“Not selfish!” she objected. “No, I never thought that. It is the wrong
+word.”
+
+“At least,” he said, “you will be surprised to hear that I have loved
+one woman all my life.”
+
+She looked at him half doubtfully.
+
+“Yes,” she said, “I am surprised to hear that.”
+
+“I will surprise you still more. I was married to her in America within
+a month of my arrival there. We have lived together ever since. And I
+have been very happy. I speak, of course, of Lucille!”
+
+“It is amazing,” she murmured. “You must tell me all about it.”
+
+“Not all,” he answered sadly. “Only this. I met her first at Vienna
+when I was thirty-five, and she was eighteen. I treated her shamefully.
+Marriage seemed to me, with all my dreams of great achievements, an act
+of madness. I believed in myself and my career. I believed that it was
+my destiny to restore the monarchy to our beloved country. And I wanted
+to be free. I think that I saw myself a second Napoleon. So I won her
+love, took all that she had to give, and returned nothing.
+
+“In the course of years she married the son of the American Consul at
+Vienna. I was obliged, by the bye, to fight her brother, and he carried
+his enmity to me through life. I saw her sometimes in the course
+of years. She was always beautiful, always surrounded by a host of
+admirers, always cold. When the end of my great plans here came, and I
+myself was a fugitive, her brother found me out. He gave me a letter to
+deliver in America. I delivered it--to his sister.
+
+“She was as beautiful as ever, and alone in the world. It seemed to me
+that I realised then how great my folly had been. For always I had loved
+her, always there had been that jealously locked little chamber in my
+life. Helene, she pointed no finger of scorn to my broken life. She
+uttered no reproaches. She took me as I was, and for three years our
+life together has been to me one long unbroken harmony. Our tastes were
+very similar. She was well read, receptive, a charming companion. Ennui
+was a word of which I have forgotten the meaning. And it seemed so with
+her, too, for she grew younger and more beautiful.”
+
+“And why is she not with you?” Helene cried. “I must go and see her. How
+delightful it sounds!”
+
+“One day, about three months ago,” Mr. Sabin continued, “she left me to
+go to New York for two days. Her milliner in Paris had sent over, and
+twice a year Lucille used to buy clothes. I had sometimes accompanied
+her, but she knew how I detested New York, and this time she did not
+press me to go. She left me in the highest spirits, as tender and
+gracefully affectionate as ever. She never returned.”
+
+Helene started in her chair.
+
+“Oh, UNCLE!” she cried.
+
+“I have never seen her since,” he repeated.
+
+“Have you no clue? She could not have left you willingly. Have you no
+idea where she is?”
+
+He bowed his head slowly.
+
+“Yes,” he said, “I know where she is. She came to Europe with Lady
+Carey. She is staying with the Duchess of Dorset.”
+
+“The Countess Radantz?” Helene cried.
+
+“It was her maiden name,” he answered.
+
+There was a moment’s silence. Helene was bewildered.
+
+“Then you have seen her?”
+
+He shook his head slowly.
+
+“No. I did not even know where she was until you told me.”
+
+“But why do you wait a single moment?” she asked. “There must be some
+explanation. Let me order a carriage now. I will drive round to Dorset
+House with you.”
+
+She half rose. He held out his hand and checked her.
+
+“There are other things to be explained,” he said quickly. “Sit down,
+Helene.”
+
+She obeyed him, mystified.
+
+“For your own sake,” he continued, “there are certain facts in
+connection with this matter which I must withhold. All I can tell you
+is this. There are people who have acquired a hold upon Lucille so great
+that she is forced to obey their bidding. Lady Carey is one, the Duchess
+of Dorset is another. They are no friends of mine, and apparently
+Lucille has been taken away from me by them.”
+
+“A--a hold upon her?” Helene repeated vaguely.
+
+“It is all I can tell you. You must suppose an extreme case. You may
+take my word for it that under certain circumstances Lucille would have
+no power to deny them anything.”
+
+“But--without a word of farewell. They could not insist upon her leaving
+you like that! It is incredible!”
+
+“It is quite possible,” Mr. Sabin said.
+
+Helene caught herself looking at him stealthily. Was it possible that
+this wonderful brain had given way at last? There were no signs of it
+in his face or expression. But the Duchess of Dorset! Lady Carey! These
+were women of her own circle--Londoners, and the Duchess, at any rate,
+a woman of the very highest social position and unimpeached
+conventionality.
+
+“This sounds--very extraordinary, UNCLE!” she remarked a little lamely.
+
+“It is extraordinary,” he answered drily. “I do not wonder that you find
+it hard to believe me. I--”
+
+“Not to believe--to understand!”
+
+He smiled.
+
+“We will not distinguish! After all, what does it matter? Assume, if
+you cannot believe, that Lucille’s leaving me may have been at the
+instigation of these people, and therefore involuntary. If this be so
+I have hard battle to fight to win her back, but in the end I shall do
+it.”
+
+She nodded sympathetically.
+
+“I am sure,” she said, “that you will not find it difficult. Tell me,
+cannot I help you in any way? I know the Duchess very well indeed--well
+enough to take you to call quite informally if you please. She is a
+great supporter of what they call the Primrose League here. I do not
+understand what it is all about, but it seems that I may not join
+because my husband is a Radical.”
+
+Mr. Sabin looked for a moment over his clasped hands through the faint
+blue cloud of cigarette smoke, and sundry possibilities flashed through
+his mind to be at once rejected. He shook his head.
+
+“No!” he said firmly. “I do not wish for your help at present, directly
+or indirectly. If you meet the Countess I would rather that you did not
+mention my name. There is only one person whom, if you met at Dorset
+House or anywhere where Lucille is, I would ask you to watch. That is
+Mr. Brott!”
+
+It was to be a conversation full of surprises for Helene. Mr. Brott!
+Her hand went up to her forehead for a moment, and a little gesture of
+bewilderment escaped her.
+
+“Will you tell me,” she asked almost plaintively, “what on earth Mr.
+Brott can have to do with this business--with Lucille--with you--with
+any one connected with it?”
+
+Mr. Sabin shrugged his shoulders.
+
+“Mr. Brott,” he remarked, “a Cabinet Minister of marked Radical
+proclivities, has lately been a frequent visitor at Dorset House,
+which is the very home of the old aristocratic Toryism. Mr. Brott was
+acquainted with Lucille many years ago--in Vienna. At that time he
+was, I believe, deeply interested in her. I must confess that Mr. Brott
+causes me some uneasiness.”
+
+“I think--that men always know,” Helene said, “if they care to. Was
+Lucille happy with you?”
+
+“Absolutely. I am sure of it.”
+
+“Then your first assumption must be correct,” she declared. “You cannot
+explain things to me, so I cannot help you even with my advice. I am
+sorry.”
+
+He turned his head towards her and regarded her critically, as though
+making some test of her sincerity.
+
+“Helene,” he said gravely, “it is for your own sake that I do not
+explain further, that I do not make things clearer to you. Only I wanted
+you to understand why I once more set foot in Europe. I wanted you to
+understand why I am here. It is to win back Lucille. It is like that
+with me, Helene. I, who once schemed and plotted for an empire, am once
+more a schemer and a worker, but for no other purpose than to recover
+possession of the woman whom I love. You do not recognise me, Helene. I
+do not recognise myself. Nevertheless, I would have you know the truth.
+I am here for that, and for no other purpose.”
+
+He rose slowly to his feet. She held out both her hands and grasped his.
+
+“Let me help you,” she begged. “Do! This is not a matter of politics or
+anything compromising. I am sure that I could be useful to you.”
+
+“So you can,” he answered quietly. “Do as I have asked you. Watch Mr.
+Brott!”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+Mr. Brott and Mr. Sabin dined together--not, as it happened, at the
+House of Commons, but at the former’s club in Pall Mall. For Mr. Sabin
+it was not altogether an enjoyable meal. The club was large, gloomy and
+political; the cooking was exactly of that order which such surroundings
+seemed to require. Nor was Mr. Brott a particularly brilliant host. Yet
+his guest derived a certain amount of pleasure from the entertainment,
+owing to Brott’s constant endeavours to bring the conversation round to
+Lucille.
+
+“I find,” he said, as they lit their cigarettes, “that I committed an
+indiscretion the other day at Camperdown House!”
+
+Mr. Sabin assumed the puzzled air of one endeavouring to pin down an
+elusive memory.
+
+“Let me see,” he murmured doubtfully. “It was in connection with--”
+
+“The Countess Radantz. If you remember, I told you that it was her
+desire just now to remain incognito. I, however, unfortunately forgot
+this during the course of our conversation.”
+
+“Yes, I remember. You told me where she was staying. But the Countess
+and I are old acquaintances. I feel sure that she did not object to your
+having given me her address. I could not possibly leave London without
+calling upon her.”
+
+Mr. Brott moved in his chair uneasily.
+
+“It seems presumption on my part to make such a suggestion perhaps,” he
+said slowly, “but I really believe that the Countess is in earnest with
+reference to her desire for seclusion just at present. I believe that
+she is really very anxious that her presence in London, just now should
+not be generally known.”
+
+“I am such a very old friend,” Mr. Sabin said. “I knew her when she was
+a child.”
+
+Mr. Brott nodded.
+
+“It is very strange,” he said, “that you should have come together again
+in such a country as America, and in a small town too.”
+
+“Lenox,” Mr. Sabin said, “is a small place, but a great center. By the
+bye, is there not some question of an impending marriage on the part of
+the Countess?”
+
+“I have heard--of nothing of the sort,” Mr. Brott said, looking up
+startled. Then, after a moment’s pause, during which he studied closely
+his companion’s imperturbable face, he added the question which forced
+its way to his lips.
+
+“Have you?”
+
+Mr. Sabin looked along his cigarette and pinched it affectionately. It
+was one of his own, which he had dexterously substituted for those which
+his host had placed at his disposal.
+
+“The Countess is a very charming, a very beautiful, and a most
+attractive woman,” he said slowly. “Her marriage has always seemed to me
+a matter of certainty.”
+
+Mr. Brott hesitated, and was lost.
+
+“You are an old friend of hers,” he said. “You perhaps know more of her
+recent history than I do. For a time she seemed to drop out of my life
+altogether. Now that she has come back I am very anxious to persuade her
+to marry me.”
+
+A single lightning-like flash in Mr. Sabin’s eyes for a moment
+disconcerted his host. But, after all, it was gone with such amazing
+suddenness that it left behind it a sense of unreality. Mr. Brott
+decided that after all it must have been fancy.
+
+“May I ask,” Mr. Sabin said quietly, “whether the Countess appears to
+receive your suit with favour?”
+
+Mr. Brott hesitated.
+
+“I am afraid I cannot go so far as to say that she does,” he said
+regretfully. “I do not know why I find myself talking on this matter to
+you. I feel that I should apologise for giving such a personal turn to
+the conversation.”
+
+“I beg that you will do nothing of the sort,” Mr. Sabin protested. “I
+am, as a matter of fact, most deeply interested.”
+
+“You encourage me,” Mr. Brott declared, “to ask you a question--to me a
+very important question.”
+
+“It will give me great pleasure,” Mr. Sabin assured him, “if I am able
+to answer it.”
+
+“You know,” Mr. Brott said, “of that portion of her life concerning
+which I have asked no questions, but which somehow, whenever I think of
+it, fills me with a certain amount of uneasiness. I refer to the last
+three years which the Countess has spent in America.”
+
+Mr. Sabin looked up, and his lips seemed to move, but he said nothing.
+Mr. Brott felt perhaps that he was on difficult ground.
+
+“I recognise the fact,” he continued slowly, “that you are the friend
+of the Countess, and that you and I are nothing more than the merest
+acquaintances. I ask my question therefore with some diffidence. Can you
+tell me from your recent, more intimate knowledge of the Countess
+and her affairs, whether there exists any reason outside her own
+inclinations why she should not accept my proposals of marriage?”
+
+Mr. Sabin had the air of a man gravely surprised. He shook his head very
+slightly.
+
+“You must not ask me such a question as that, Mr. Brott,” he said. “It
+is not a subject which I could possibly discuss with you. But I have no
+objection to going so far as this. My experience of the Countess is that
+she is a woman of magnificent and effective will power. I think if she
+has any desire to marry you there are or could be no obstacles existing
+which she would not easily dispose of.”
+
+“There are obstacles, then?”
+
+“You must not ask me that,” Mr. Sabin said, with a certain amount of
+stiffness. “The Countess is a very dear friend of mine, and you must
+forgive me now if I say that I prefer not to discuss her any longer.”
+
+A hall servant entered the room, bearing a note for Mr. Brott. He
+received it at first carelessly, but his expression changed the moment
+he saw the superscription. He turned a little away, and Mr. Sabin
+noticed that the fingers which tore open the envelope were trembling.
+The note seemed short enough, but he must have read it half a dozen
+times before at last he turned round to the messenger.
+
+“There is no answer,” he said in a low tone.
+
+He folded the note and put it carefully into his breast pocket. Mr.
+Sabin subdued an insane desire to struggle with him and discover, by
+force, if necessary, who was the sender of those few brief lines. For
+Mr. Brott was a changed man.
+
+“I am afraid,” he said, turning to his guest, “that this has been a very
+dull evening for you. To tell you the truth, this club is not exactly
+the haunt of pleasure-seekers. It generally oppresses me for the first
+hour or so. Would you like a hand at bridge, or a game of billiards? I
+am wholly at your service--until twelve o’clock.”
+
+Mr. Sabin glanced at the clock.
+
+“You are very good,” he said, “but I was never much good at indoor
+games. Golf has been my only relaxation for many years. Besides, I too
+have an engagement for which I must leave in a very few minutes.”
+
+“It is very good of you,” Mr. Brott said, “to have given me the pleasure
+of your company. I have the greatest possible admiration for your niece,
+Mr. Sabin, and Camperdown is a thundering good fellow. He will be our
+leader in the House of Lords before many years have passed.”
+
+“He is, I believe,” Mr. Sabin remarked, “of the same politics as
+yourself.”
+
+“We are both,” Mr. Brott answered, with a smile, “I am afraid outside
+the pale of your consideration in this respect. We are both Radicals.”
+
+Mr. Sabin lit another cigarette and glanced once more at the clock.
+
+“A Radical peer!” he remarked. “Isn’t that rather an anomaly? The
+principles of Radicalism and aristocracy seem so divergent.”
+
+“Yet,” Mr. Brott said, “they are not wholly irreconcilable. I have often
+wished that this could be more generally understood. I find myself at
+times very unpopular with people, whose good opinion I am anxious to
+retain, simply owing to this too general misapprehension.”
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled gently.
+
+“You were referring without doubt--” he began.
+
+“To the Countess,” Brott admitted. “Yes, it is true. But after all,” he
+added cheerfully, “I believe that our disagreements are mainly upon the
+surface. The Countess is a woman of wide culture and understanding. Her
+mind, too, is plastic. She has few prejudices.”
+
+Mr. Sabin glanced at the clock for the third time, and rose to his feet.
+He was quite sure now that the note was from her. He leaned on his
+stick and took his leave quietly. All the time he was studying his host,
+wondering at his air of only partially suppressed excitement.
+
+“I must thank you very much, Mr. Brott,” he said, “for your
+entertainment. I trust that you will give me an opportunity shortly of
+reciprocating your hospitality.”
+
+The two men parted finally in the hall. Mr. Sabin stepped into his hired
+carriage.
+
+“Dorset House!” he directed.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+“This little difference of opinion,” the Prince remarked, looking
+thoughtfully through the emerald green of his liqueur, “interests me.
+Our friend Dolinski here thinks that he will not come because he will
+be afraid. De Brouillac, on the contrary, says that he will not come
+because he is too sagacious. Felix here, who knows him best, says that
+he will not come because he prefers ever to play the game from outside
+the circle, a looker-on to all appearance, yet sometimes wielding an
+unseen force. It is a strong position that.”
+
+Lucille raised her head and regarded the last speaker steadily.
+
+“And I, Prince!” she exclaimed, “I say that he will come because he is a
+man, and because he does not know fear.”
+
+The Prince of Saxe Leinitzer bowed low towards the speaker.
+
+“Dear Lucille,” he said, so respectfully that the faint irony of his
+tone was lost to most of those present, “I, too, am of your opinion.
+The man who has a right, real or fancied, to claim you must indeed be
+a coward if he suffered dangers of any sort to stand in the way. After
+all, dangers from us! Is it not a little absurd?”
+
+Lucille looked away from the Prince with a little shudder. He laughed
+softly, and drank his liqueur. Afterwards he leaned back for a moment
+in his chair and glanced thoughtfully around at the assembled company as
+though anxious to impress upon his memory all who were present. It was a
+little group, every member of which bore a well-known name. Their host,
+the Duke of Dorset, in whose splendid library they were assembled, was,
+if not the premier duke of the United Kingdom, at least one of those
+whose many hereditary offices and ancient family entitled him to a
+foremost place in the aristocracy of the world. Raoul de Brouillac,
+Count of Orleans, bore a name which was scarcely absent from a single
+page of the martial history of France. The Prince of Saxe Leinitzer kept
+up still a semblance of royalty in the State which his ancestors had
+ruled with despotic power. Lady Muriel Carey was a younger daughter of
+a ducal house, which had more than once intermarried with Royalty. The
+others, too, had their claims to be considered amongst the greatest
+families of Europe.
+
+The Prince glanced at his watch, and then at the bridge tables ready set
+out.
+
+“I think,” he said, “that a little diversion--what does our hostess
+say?”
+
+“Two sets can start at least,” the Duchess said. “Lucille and I will
+stay out, and the Count de Brouillac does not play.”
+
+The Prince rose.
+
+“It is agreed,” he said. “Duke, will you honour me? Felix and Dolinski
+are our ancient adversaries. It should be an interesting trial of
+strength.”
+
+There was a general movement, a re-arrangement of seats, and a little
+buzz of conversation. Then silence. Lucille sat back in a great chair,
+and Lady Carey came over to her side.
+
+“You are nervous to-night, Lucille,” she said.
+
+“Yes, I am nervous,” Lucille admitted. “Why not? At any moment he may be
+here.”
+
+“And you care--so much?” Lady Carey said, with a hard little laugh.
+
+“I care so much,” Lucille echoed.
+
+Lady Carey shook out her amber satin skirt and sat down upon a low
+divan. She held up her hands, small white hands, ablaze with jewels, and
+looked at them for a moment thoughtfully.
+
+“He was very much in earnest when I saw him at Sherry’s in New York,”
+ she remarked, “and he was altogether too clever for Mr. Horser and our
+friends there. After all their talk and boasting too. Why, they are
+ignorant of the very elements of intrigue.”
+
+Lucille sighed.
+
+“Here,” she said, “it is different. The Prince and he are ancient
+rivals, and Raoul de Brouillac is no longer his friend. Muriel, I am
+afraid of what may happen.”
+
+Lady Carey shrugged her shoulders.
+
+“He is no fool,” she said in a low tone. “He will not come here with a
+magistrate’s warrant and a policeman to back it up, nor will he attempt
+to turn the thing into an Adelphi drama. I know him well enough to be
+sure that he will attempt nothing crude. Lucille, don’t you find it
+exhilarating?”
+
+“Exhilarating? But why?”
+
+“It will be a game played through to the end by masters, and you, my
+dear woman, are the inspiration. I think that it is most fascinating.”
+
+Lucille looked sadly into the fire.
+
+“I think,” she said, “that I am weary of all these things. I seem to
+have lived such a very long time. At Lenox I was quite happy. Of my own
+will I would never have left it.”
+
+Lady Carey’s thin lips curled a little, her blue eyes were full of
+scorn. She was not altogether a pleasant woman to look upon. Her cheeks
+were thin and hollow, her eyes a little too prominent, some hidden
+expression which seemed at times to flit from one to the other of her
+features suggested a sensuality which was a little incongruous with her
+somewhat angular figure and generally cold demeanour. But that she was a
+woman of courage and resource history had proved.
+
+“How idyllic!” she exclaimed. “Positively medieval! Fancy living with
+one man three years.”
+
+Lucille smiled.
+
+“Why, not? I never knew a woman yet however cold however fond of change,
+who had not at some time or other during her life met a man for whose
+sake she would have done--what I did. I have had as many admirers--as
+many lovers, I suppose, as most women. But I can truthfully say that
+during the last three years no thought of one of them has crossed my
+mind.”
+
+Lady Carey laughed scornfully.
+
+“Upon my word,” she said. “If the Prince had not a temper, and if they
+were not playing for such ruinous points, I would entertain them all
+with these delightful confidences. By the bye, the Prince himself was
+once one of those who fell before your chariot wheels, was he not? Look
+at him now--sideways. What does he remind you of?”
+
+Lucille raised her eyes.
+
+“A fat angel,” she answered, “or something equally distasteful. How I
+hate those mild eyes and that sweet, slow smile. I saw him thrash a poor
+beater once in the Saxe Leinitzer forests. Ugh!”
+
+“I should not blame him for that,” Lady Carey said coldly. “I like
+masterful men, even to the point of cruelty. General Dolinski there
+fascinates me. I believe that he keeps a little private knout at home
+for his wife and children. A wicked little contrivance with an ivory
+handle. I should like to see him use it.”
+
+Lucille shuddered. This tete-a-tete did not amuse her. She rose and
+looked over one of the bridge tables for a minute. The Prince, who was
+dealing, looked up with a smile.
+
+“Be my good angel, Countess,” he begged. “Fortune has deserted me
+to-night. You shall be the goddess of chance, and smile your favours
+upon me.”
+
+A hard little laugh came from the chair where Lady Carey sat. She turned
+her head towards them, and there was a malicious gleam in her eyes.
+
+“Too late, Prince,” she exclaimed. “The favours of the Countess are all
+given away. Lucille has become even as one of those flaxen-haired dolls
+of your mountain villages. She has given her heart away, and she is
+sworn to perpetual constancy.”
+
+The Prince smiled.
+
+“The absence,” he said, glancing up at the clock, “of that most
+fortunate person should surely count in our favour.”
+
+Lucille followed his eyes. The clock was striking ten. She shrugged her
+shoulders.
+
+“If the converse also is true, Prince,” she said, “you can scarcely have
+anything to hope for from me. For by half-past ten he will be here.”
+
+The Prince picked up his cards and sorted them mechanically.
+
+“We shall see,” he remarked. “It is true, Countess, that you are here,
+but in this instance you are set with thorns.”
+
+“To continue the allegory, Prince,” she answered, passing on to the next
+table, “also with poisonous berries. But to the hand which has no fear,
+neither are harmful.”
+
+The Prince laid down his hand.
+
+“Now I really believe,” he said gently, “that she meant to be rude.
+Partner, I declare hearts!”
+
+Felix was standing out from the next table whilst his hand was being
+played by General Dolinski, his partner. He drew her a little on one
+side.
+
+“Do not irritate Saxe Leinitzer,” he whispered. “Remember, everything
+must rest with him. Twice to-night you have brought that smile to his
+lips, and I never see it without thinking of unpleasant things.”
+
+“You are right,” she answered; “but I hate him so. He and Muriel Carey
+seem to have entered into some conspiracy to lead me on to say things
+which I might regret.”
+
+“Saxe Leinitzer,” he said, “has never forgotten that he once aspired to
+be your lover.”
+
+“He has not failed to let me know it,” she answered. “He has even
+dared--ah!”
+
+There was a sudden stir in the room. The library door was thrown open.
+The solemn-visaged butler stood upon the threshold.
+
+“His Grace the Duke of Souspennier!” he announced.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+There was for the moment a dead silence. The soft patter of cards no
+longer fell upon the table. The eyes of every one were turned upon the
+newcomers. And he, leaning upon his stick, looked only for one person,
+and having found her, took no heed of any one else.
+
+“Lucille!”
+
+She rose from her seat and stood with hands outstretched towards him,
+her lips parted in a delightful smile, her eyes soft with happiness.
+
+“Victor, welcome! It is like you to have found me, and I knew that you
+would come.”
+
+He raised her fingers to his lips--tenderly--with the grace of a prince,
+but all the affection of a lover. What he said to her none could hear,
+for his voice was lowered almost to a whisper. But the colour stained
+her cheeks, and her blush was the blush of a girl.
+
+A movement of the Duchess recalled him to a sense of his social duty. He
+turned courteously to her with extended hand.
+
+“I trust,” he said, “that I may be forgiven my temporary fit of
+aberration. I cannot thank you sufficiently, Duchess, for your kind
+invitation.”
+
+Her answering smile was a little dubious.
+
+“I am sure,” she said “that we are delighted to welcome back amongst us
+so old and valued a friend. I suppose you know every one?”
+
+Mr. Sabin looked searchingly around, exchanging bows with those whose
+faces were familiar to him. But between him and the Prince of Saxe
+Leinitzer there passed no pretense at any greeting. The two men eyed one
+another for a moment coldly. Each seemed to be trying to read the other
+through.
+
+“I believe,” Mr. Sabin said, “that I have that privilege. I see,
+however, that I am interrupting your game. Let me beg you to continue.
+With your permission, Duchess, I will remain a spectator. There are many
+things which my wife and I have to say to one another.”
+
+The Prince of Saxe Leinitzer laid his cards softly upon the table. He
+smiled upon Mr. Sabin--a slow, unpleasant smile.
+
+“I think,” he said slowly, “that our game must be postponed. It is a
+pity, but I think it had better be so.”
+
+“It must be entirely as you wish,” Mr. Sabin answered. “I am at your
+service now or later.”
+
+The Prince rose to his feet.
+
+“Monsieur le Due de Souspennier,” he said, “what are we to conclude from
+your presence here this evening?”
+
+“It is obvious,” Mr. Sabin answered. “I claim my place amongst you.”
+
+“You claim to be one of us?”
+
+“I do!”
+
+“Ten years ago,” the Prince continued, “you were granted immunity from
+all the penalties and obligations which a co-membership with us might
+involve. This privilege was extended to you on account of certain great
+operations in which you were then engaged, and the object of which
+was not foreign to our own aims. You are aware that the period of that
+immunity is long since past.”
+
+Mr. Sabin leaned with both hands upon his stick, and his face was like
+the face of a sphinx. Only Lucille, who knew him best of all those
+there, saw him wince for a moment before this reminder of his great
+failure.
+
+“I am not accustomed,” Mr. Sabin said quietly, “to shirk my share of the
+work in any undertaking with which I am connected. Only in this case I
+claim to take the place of the Countess Lucille, my wife. I request that
+the task, whatever it may be which you have imposed upon her, may be
+transferred to me.”
+
+The Prince’s smile was sweet, but those who knew him best wondered what
+evil it might betoken for his ancient enemy.
+
+“You offer yourself, then, as a full member?”
+
+“Assuredly!”
+
+“Subject,” he drawled, “to all the usual pains and privileges?”
+
+“Certainly!”
+
+The Prince played with the cards upon the table. His smooth, fair face
+was unruffled, almost undisturbed. Yet underneath he was wondering
+fiercely, eagerly, how this might serve his ends.
+
+“The circumstances,” he said at last, “are peculiar. I think that we
+should do well to consult together--you and I, Felix, and Raoul here.”
+
+The two men named rose up silently. The Prince pointed to a small
+round table at the farther end of the apartment, half screened off by a
+curtained recess.
+
+“Am I also,” Mr. Sabin asked, “of your company?”
+
+The Prince shook his head.
+
+“I think not,” he said. “In a few moments we will return.”
+
+Mr. Sabin moved away with a slight enigmatic gesture. Lucille gathered
+up her skirts, making room for him by her side on a small sofa.
+
+“It is delightful to see you, Victor,” she murmured. “It is delightful
+to know that you trusted me.”
+
+Mr. Sabin looked at her, and the smile which no other woman had ever
+seen softened for a moment his face.
+
+“Dear Lucille,” he murmured, “how could you ever doubt it? There was a
+day, I admit, when the sun stood still, when, if I had felt inclined to
+turn to light literature, I should have read aloud the Book of Job. But
+afterwards--well, you see that I am here.”
+
+She laughed.
+
+“I knew that you would come,” she said, “and yet I knew that it would
+be a struggle between you and them. For--the Prince--” she murmured,
+lowering her voice, “had pledged his word to keep us apart.”
+
+Mr. Sabin raised his head, and his eyes traveled towards the figure of
+the man who sat with his back to them in the far distant corner of the
+room.
+
+“The Prince,” he said softly, “is faithful to his ancient enmities.”
+
+Lucille’s face was troubled. She turned to her companion with a little
+grimace.
+
+“He would have me believe,” she murmured, “that he is faithful to other
+things besides his enmities.”
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled.
+
+“I am not jealous,” he said softly, “of the Prince of Saxe Leinitzer!”
+
+As though attracted by the mention of his name, which must, however,
+have been unheard by him, the Prince at that moment turned round and
+looked for a moment towards them. He shot a quick glance at Lady Carey.
+Almost at once she rose from her chair and came across to them.
+
+“The Prince’s watch-dog,” Lucille murmured. “Hateful woman! She is bound
+hand and foot to him, and yet--”
+
+Her eyes met his, and he laughed.
+
+“Really,” he said, “you and I in our old age might be hero and heroine
+of a little romance--the undesiring objects of a hopeless affection!”
+
+Lady Carey sank into a low chair by their side. “You two,” she said,
+with a slow, malicious smile, “are a pattern to this wicked world. Don’t
+you know that such fidelity is positively sinful, and after three years
+in such a country too?”
+
+“It is the approach of senility,” Mr. Sabin answered her. “I am an old
+man, Lady Muriel!”
+
+She shrugged her shoulders.
+
+“You are like Ulysses,” she said. “The gods, or rather the goddesses,
+have helped you towards immortality.”
+
+“It is,” Mr. Sabin answered, “the most delicious piece of flattery I
+have ever heard.”
+
+“Calypso,” she murmured, nodding towards Lucille, “is by your side.”
+
+“Really,” Mr. Sabin interrupted, “I must protest. Lucille and I
+were married by a most respectable Episcopalian clergyman. We have
+documentary evidence. Besides, if Lucille is Calypso, what about
+Penelope?”
+
+Lady Carey smiled thoughtfully.
+
+“I have always thought,” she said, “that Penelope was a myth. In your
+case I should say that Penelope represents a return to sanity--to the
+ordinary ways of life.”
+
+Mr. Sabin and Lucille exchanged swift glances. He raised his eyebrows.
+
+“Our little idyll,” he said, “seems to be the sport and buffet of
+every one. You forget that I am of the old world. I do not understand
+modernity.”
+
+“Ulysses,” she answered, “was of the old world, yet he was a wanderer in
+more senses of the word than one. And there have been times--”
+
+Her eyes sought his. He ignored absolutely the subtlety of meaning which
+lurked beneath the heavy drooping eyelids.
+
+“One travels through life,” he answered, “by devious paths, and a little
+wandering in the flower-gardens by the way is the lot of every one.
+But when the journey is over, one’s taste for wandering has gone--well,
+Ulysses finished his days at the hearth of Penelope.”
+
+She rose and walked away. Mr. Sabin sat still and watched her as though
+listening to the soft sweep of her gown upon the carpet.
+
+“Hateful woman!” Lucille exclaimed lightly. “To make love, and such
+love, to one’s lawful husband before one’s face is a little crude, don’t
+you think?”
+
+He shook his head.
+
+“Too obvious,” he answered. “She is playing the Prince’s game. Dear me,
+how interesting this will be soon.”
+
+She nodded. A faint smile of bitterness had stolen into her tone.
+
+“Already,” she said, “you are beginning to scent the delight of the
+atmosphere. You are stiffening for the fight. Soon--”
+
+“Ah, no! Don’t say it,” he whispered, taking her hand. “I shall never
+forget. If the fight seems good to me it is because you are the prize,
+and after all, you know, to fight for one’s womenkind is amongst the
+primeval instincts.”
+
+Lady Carey, who had been pacing the room restlessly, touching an
+ornament here, looking at a picture there, came back to them and stood
+before Mr. Sabin. She had caught his last words.
+
+“Primeval instincts!” she exclaimed mockingly. “What do you know about
+them, you of all men, a bundle of nerves and brains, with a motor for
+a heart, and an automatic brake upon your passions? Upon my word, I
+believe that I have solved the mystery of your perennial youth. You have
+found a way of substituting machinery for the human organ, and you are
+wound up to go for ever.”
+
+“You have found me out,” he admitted. “Professor Penningram of Chicago
+will supply you too with an outfit. Mention my name if you like. It is a
+wonderful country America.”
+
+The Prince came over to them, fair and bland with no trace upon his
+smooth features or in his half-jesting tone of any evil things.
+
+“Souspennier,” he said, holding out his hand, “welcome back once more to
+your old place. I am happy to say that there appears to be no reason why
+your claim should not be fully admitted.”
+
+Mr. Sabin rose to his feet.
+
+“I presume,” he said, “that no very active demands are likely to be made
+upon my services. In this country more than any other I fear that the
+possibilities of my aid are scanty.”
+
+The Prince smiled.
+
+“It is a fact,” he said, “which we all appreciate. Upon you at present
+we make no claim.”
+
+There was a moment’s intense silence. A steely light glittered in Mr.
+Sabin’s eyes. He and the Prince alone remained standing. The Duchess of
+Dorset watched them through her lorgnettes; Lady Carey watched too
+with an intense eagerness, her eyes alight with mingled cruelty and
+excitement. Lucille’s eyes were so bright that one might readily believe
+the tears to be glistening beneath.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+“I will not pretend,” Mr. Sabin said, “to misunderstand you. My help is
+not required by you in this enterprise, whatever it may be, in which you
+are engaged. On the contrary, you have tried by many and various ways to
+keep me at a distance. But I am here, Prince--here to be dealt with and
+treated according to my rights.”
+
+The Prince stroked his fair moustache.
+
+“I am a little puzzled,” he admitted, “as to this--shall I not call it
+self-assertiveness?--on the part of my good friend Souspennier.”
+
+“I will make it quite clear then,” Mr. Sabin answered. “Lucille, will
+you favour me by ringing for your maid. The carriage is at the door.”
+
+The Prince held out his hand.
+
+“My dear Souspennier,” he said, “you must not think of taking Lucille
+away from us.”
+
+“Indeed,” Mr. Sabin answered coolly. “Why not?”
+
+“It must be obvious to you,” the Prince answered, “that we did not
+send to America for Lucille without an object. She is now engaged in an
+important work upon our behalf. It is necessary that she should remain
+under this roof.”
+
+“I demand,” Mr. Sabin said, “that the nature of that necessity should be
+made clear to me.”
+
+The Prince smiled with the air of one disposed to humour a wilful child.
+
+“Come!” he said. “You must know very well that I cannot stand here
+and tell you the bare outline, much less the details of an important
+movement. To-morrow, at any hour you choose, one from amongst us
+shall explain the whole matter--and the part to be borne in it by the
+Countess!”
+
+“And to-night?” Mr. Sabin asked.
+
+The Prince shrugged his shoulders and glanced at the clock.
+
+“To-night, my dear friend,” he said, “all of us, I believe, go on to a
+ball at Carmarthen House. It would grieve me also, I am sure, Duke, to
+seem inhospitable, but I am compelled to mention the fact that the hour
+for which the carriages have been ordered is already at hand.”
+
+Mr. Sabin reflected for a few moments.
+
+“Did I understand you to say,” he asked, “that the help to be given to
+you by my wife, Lucille, Duchess of Souspennier, entailed her remaining
+under this roof?”
+
+The Prince smiled seraphically.
+
+“It is unfortunate,” he murmured, “since you have been so gallant as
+to follow her, but it is true! You will understand this
+perfectly--to-morrow.”
+
+“And why should I wait until to-morrow?” Mr. Sabin asked coolly.
+
+“I fear,” the Prince said, “that it is a matter of necessity.”
+
+Mr. Sabin glanced for a moment in turn at the faces of all the little
+company as though seeking to discover how far the attitude of his
+opponent met with their approval. Lady Carey’s thin lips were curved
+in a smile, and her eyes met his mockingly. The others remained
+imperturbable. Last of all he looked at Lucille.
+
+“It seems,” he said, smiling towards her, “that I am called upon to pay
+a heavy entrance fee on my return amongst your friends. But the Prince
+of Saxe Leinitzer forgets that he has shown me no authority, or given me
+no valid reason why I should tolerate such flagrant interference with my
+personal affairs.”
+
+“To-morrow--to-morrow, my good sir!” the Prince interrupted.
+
+“No! To-night!” Mr. Sabin answered sharply. “Lucille, in the absence of
+any reasonable explanation, I challenge the right of the Prince of Saxe
+Leinitzer to rob me even for an hour of my dearest possession. I appeal
+to you. Come with me and remain with me until it has been proved, if
+ever it can be proved, that greater interests require our separation. If
+there be blame I will take it. Will you trust yourself to me?”
+
+Lucille half rose, but Lady Carey’s hand was heavy upon her shoulder.
+As though by a careless movement General Dolinski and Raoul de Brouillac
+altered their positions slightly so as to come between the two. The
+Duke of Dorset had left the room. Then Mr. Sabin knew that they were all
+against him.
+
+“Lucille,” he said, “have courage! I wait for you.”
+
+She looked towards him, and her face puzzled him. For there flashed
+across the shoulders of these people a glance which was wholly out of
+harmony with his own state of barely subdued passion--a glance half
+tender, half humorous, full of subtle promise. Yet her words were a blow
+to him.
+
+“Victor, how is it possible? Believe me, I should come if I could.
+To-morrow--very soon, it may be possible. But now. You hear what the
+Prince says. I fear that he is right!”
+
+To Mr. Sabin the shock was an unexpected one. He had never doubted but
+that she at least was on his side. Her words found him unprepared, and
+a moment he showed his discomfiture. His recovery however, was swift and
+amazing. He bowed to Lucille, and by the time he raised his head even
+the reproach had gone from his eyes.
+
+“Dear lady,” he said, “I will not venture to dispute your decision.
+Prince, will you appoint a time to-morrow when this matter shall be more
+fully explained to me?”
+
+The Prince’s smile was sweetness itself, and his tone very gentle. But
+Mr. Sabin, who seldom yielded to any passionate impulse, kept his teeth
+set and his hand clenched, lest the blow he longed to deal should escape
+him.
+
+“At midday to-morrow I shall be pleased to receive you,” he said.
+“The Countess, with her usual devotion and good sense, has, I trust,
+convinced you that our action is necessary!”
+
+“To-morrow at midday,” Mr. Sabin said, “I will be here. I have the
+honour to wish you all good-night.”
+
+His farewell was comprehensive. He did not even single out Lucille for a
+parting glance. But down the broad stairs and across the hall of Dorset
+House he passed with weary steps, leaning heavily upon his stick. It was
+a heavy blow which had fallen upon him. As yet he scarcely realised it.
+
+His carriage was delayed for a few moments, and just as he was entering
+it a young woman, plainly dressed in black, came hurrying out and
+slipped a note into his hand.
+
+“Pardon, monsieur,” she exclaimed, with a smile. “I feared that I was
+too late.”
+
+Mr. Sabin’s fingers closed over the note, and he stepped blithely
+into the carriage. But when he tore it open and saw the handwriting he
+permitted himself a little groan of disappointment. It was not from her.
+He read the few lines and crushed the sheet of paper in his hand.
+
+  “I am having supper at the Carlton with some friends on our way
+  to C. H.  I want to speak to you for a moment.  Be in the Palm
+  Court at 12.15, but do not recognise me until I come to you.  If
+  possible keep out of sight.  If you should have left my maid will
+  bring this on to your hotel.
+                                                           “M. C.”
+
+Mr. Sabin leaned back in his carriage, and a frown of faint perplexity
+contracted his forehead.
+
+“If I were a younger man,” he murmured to himself, “I might believe
+that this woman was really in earnest, as well as being Saxe Leinitzer’s
+jackal. We were friendly enough in Paris that year. She is unscrupulous
+enough, of course. Always with some odd fancy for the grotesque or
+unlikely. I wonder--”
+
+He pulled the check-string, and was driven to Camperdown House. A great
+many people were coming and going. Mr. Sabin found Helene’s maid, and
+learnt that her mistress was just going to her room, and would be alone
+for a few minutes. He scribbled a few words on the back of a card, and
+was at once taken up to her boudoir.
+
+“My dear UNCLE,” Helene exclaimed, “you have arrived most opportunely.
+We have just got rid of a few dinner people, and we are going on to
+Carmarthen House presently. Take that easy-chair, please, and, light a
+cigarette. Will you have a liqueur? Wolfendon has some old brandy which
+every one seems to think wonderful.”
+
+“You are very kind, Helene,” Mr. Sabin said. “I cannot refuse anything
+which you offer in so charming a manner. But I shall not keep you more
+than a few minutes.”
+
+“We need not leave for an hour,” Helene said, “and I am dressed except
+for my jewels. Tell me, have you seen Lucille? I am so anxious to know.”
+
+“I have seen Lucille this evening,” Mr. Sabin answered.
+
+“At Dorset House!”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+Helene sat down, smiling.
+
+“Do tell me all about it.”
+
+“There is very little to tell,” Mr. Sabin answered.
+
+“She is with you--she returns at least!”
+
+Mr. Sabin shook his head.
+
+“No,” he answered. “She remains at Dorset House.”
+
+Helene was silent. Mr. Sabin smoked pensively a moment or two, and
+sipped the liqueur which Camperdown’s own servant had just brought him.
+
+“It is very hard, Helene,” he said, “to make you altogether understand
+the situation, for there are certain phases of it which I cannot discuss
+with you at all. I have made my first effort to regain Lucille, and it
+has failed. It is not her fault. I need not say that it is not mine. But
+the struggle has commenced, and in the end I shall win.”
+
+“Lucille herself--” Helene began hesitatingly.
+
+“Lucille is, I firmly believe, as anxious to return to me as I am
+anxious to have her,” Mr. Sabin said.
+
+Helene threw up her hands.
+
+“It is bewildering,” she exclaimed.
+
+“It must seem so to you,” Mr. Sabin admitted.
+
+“I wish that Lucille were anywhere else,” Helene said. “The Dorset House
+set, you know, although they are very smart and very exclusive, have
+a somewhat peculiar reputation. Lady Carey, although she is such a
+brilliant woman, says and does the most insolent, the most amazing
+things, and the Prince of Saxe Leinitzer goes everywhere in Europe by
+the name of the Royal libertine. They are powerful enough almost to
+dominate society, and we poor people who abide by the conventions are
+absolutely nowhere beside them. They think that we are bourgeois because
+we have virtue, and prehistoric because we are not decadent.”
+
+“The Duke--” Mr. Sabin remarked.
+
+“Oh, the Duke is quite different, of course,” Helene admitted. “He is a
+fanatical Tory, very stupid, very blind to anything except his beloved
+Primrose League. How he came to lend himself to the vagaries of such a
+set I cannot imagine.”
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled.
+
+“C’est la femme toujours!” he remarked. “His Grace is, I fear,
+henpecked, and the Duchess herself is the sport of cleverer people. And
+now, my dear niece, I see that the time is going. I came to know if you
+could get me a card for the ball at Carmarthen House to-night.”
+
+Helene laughed softly.
+
+“Very easily, my dear UNCLE. Lady Carmarthen is Wolfendon’s cousin, you
+know, and a very good friend of mine. I have half a dozen blank cards
+here. Shall I really see you there?”
+
+“I believe so,” Mr. Sabin answered.
+
+“And Lucille?”
+
+“It is possible.”
+
+“There is nothing I suppose which I can do in the way of intervention,
+or anything of that sort?”
+
+Mr. Sabin shook his head.
+
+“Lucille and I are the best of friends,” he answered. “Talk to her, if
+you will. By the bye, is that twelve o’clock? I must hurry. Doubtless we
+shall meet again at the ball.”
+
+But Carmarthen House saw nothing of Mr. Sabin that night.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+Mr. Sabin from his seat behind a gigantic palm watched her egress from
+the supper-room with a little group of friends.
+
+They came to a halt in the broad carpeted way only a few feet from him.
+Lady Carey, in a wonderful green gown, her neck and bosom ablaze with
+jewels, seemed to be making her farewells.
+
+“I must go in and see the De Lausanacs,” she exclaimed. “They are in
+the blue room supping with the Portuguese Ambassador. I shall be
+at Carmarthen House within half an hour--unless my headache becomes
+unbearable. Au revoir, all of you. Good-bye, Laura!”
+
+Her friends passed on towards the great swing doors. Lady Carey
+retraced her steps slowly towards the supper-room, and made some languid
+inquiries of the head waiter as to a missing handkerchief. Then she came
+again slowly down the broad way and reached Mr. Sabin. He rose to his
+feet.
+
+“I thank you very much for your note,” he said. “You have something, I
+believe, to say to me.”
+
+She stood before him for a moment in silence, as though not unwilling
+that he should appreciate the soft splendour of her toilette. The jewels
+which encircled her neck were priceless and dazzling; the soft material
+of her gown, the most delicate shade of sea green, seemed to foam about
+her feet, a wonderful triumph of allegoric dressmaking. She saw that
+he was studying her, and she laughed a little uneasily, looking all the
+time into his eyes.
+
+“Shockingly overdressed, ain’t I?” she said. “We were going straight to
+Carmarthen House, you know. Come and sit in this corner for a moment,
+and order me some coffee. I suppose there isn’t any less public place!”
+
+“I fear not,” he answered. “You will perhaps be unobserved behind this
+palm.”
+
+She sank into a low chair, and he seated himself beside her. She sighed
+contentedly.
+
+“Dear me!” she said. “Do men like being run after like this?”
+
+Mr. Sabin raised his eyebrows.
+
+“I understood,” he said, “that you had something to say to me of
+importance.”
+
+She shot a quick look up at him.
+
+“Don’t be horrid,” she said in a low tone. “Of course I wanted to see
+you. I wanted to explain. Give me one of your cigarettes.”
+
+He laid his case silently before her. She took one and lit it, watching
+him furtively all the time. The man brought their coffee. The place was
+almost empty now, and some of the lights were turned down.
+
+“It is very kind of you,” he said slowly, “to honour me by so much
+consideration, but if you have much to say perhaps it would be better
+if you permitted me to call upon you to-morrow. I am afraid of depriving
+you of your ball--and your friends will be getting impatient.”
+
+“Bother the ball--and my friends,” she exclaimed, a certain strained
+note in her tone which puzzled him. “I’m not obliged to go to the thing,
+and I don’t want to. I’ve invented a headache, and they won’t even
+expect me. They know my headaches.”
+
+“In that case,” Mr. Sabin said, “I am entirely at your service.”
+
+She sighed, and looked up at him through a little cloud of tobacco
+smoke.
+
+“What a wonderful man you are,” she said softly. “You accept defeat with
+the grace of a victor. I believe that you would triumph as easily with
+a shrug of the shoulders. Haven’t you any feeling at all? Don’t you know
+what it is like to feel?”
+
+He smiled.
+
+“We both come,” he said, “of a historic race. If ancestry is worth
+anything it should at least teach us to go about without pinning our
+hearts upon our sleeves.”
+
+“But you,” she murmured, “you have no heart.”
+
+He looked down upon her then with still cold face and steady eyes.
+
+“Indeed,” he said, “you are mistaken.”
+
+She moved uneasily in her chair. She was very pale, except for a faint
+spot of pink colour in her cheeks.
+
+“It is very hard to find, then,” she said, speaking quickly, her bosom
+rising and falling, her eyes always seeking to hold his. “To-night you
+see what I have done--I have, sent away my friends--and my carriage.
+They may know me here--you see what I have risked. And I don’t care.
+You thought to-night that I was your enemy--and I am not. I am not your
+enemy at all.”
+
+Her hand fell as though by accident upon his, and remained there. Mr.
+Sabin was very nearly embarrassed. He knew quite well that if she were
+not his enemy at that moment she would be very shortly.
+
+“Lucille,” she continued, “will blame me too. I cannot help it. I want
+to tell you that for the present your separation from her is a certain
+thing. She acquiesces. You heard her. She is quite happy. She is at the
+ball to-night, and she has friends there who will make it pleasant for
+her. Won’t you understand?”
+
+“No,” Mr. Sabin answered.
+
+She beat the ground with her foot.
+
+“You must understand,” she murmured. “You are not like these fools
+of Englishmen who go to sleep when they are married, and wake in the
+divorce court. For the present at least you have lost Lucille. You heard
+her choose. She’s at the ball to-night--and I have come here to be with
+you. Won’t you, please,” she added, with a little nervous laugh, “show
+some gratitude?”
+
+The interruption which Mr. Sabin had prayed for came at last. The
+musicians had left, and many of the lights had been turned down. An
+official came across to them.
+
+“I beg your pardon, sir,” he said, addressing Mr. Sabin, “but we are
+closing now, unless you are a guest in the hotel.”
+
+“I am staying here,” Mr. Sabin answered, rising, “but the lady--”
+
+Lady Carey interrupted him.
+
+“I am staying here also,” she said to the man.
+
+He bowed at once and withdrew. She rose slowly to her feet and laid her
+fingers upon his arm. He looked steadily away from her.
+
+“Fortunately,” he said, “I have not yet dismissed my own carriage.
+Permit me.”
+
+      *          *            *           *           *
+
+Mr. Sabin leaned heavily upon his stick as he slowly made his way along
+the corridor to his rooms. Things were going ill with him indeed. He was
+not used to the fear of an enemy, but the memory of Lady Carey’s white
+cheeks and indrawn lips as she had entered his carriage chilled him.
+Her one look, too, was a threat worse than any which her lips could
+have uttered. He was getting old indeed, he thought, wearily, when
+disappointment weighed so heavily upon him. And Lucille? Had he any
+real fears of her? He felt a little catch in his throat at the bare
+thought--in a moment’s singular clearness of perception he realised that
+if Lucille were indeed lost the world was no longer a place for him. So
+his feet fell wearily upon the thickly carpeted floor of the corridor,
+and his face was unusually drawn and haggard as he opened the door of
+his sitting-room.
+
+And then--a transformation, amazing, stupefying. It was Lucille who
+was smiling a welcome upon him from the depths of his favourite
+easy-chair--Lucille sitting over his fire, a novel in her hand, and
+wearing a delightful rose-pink dressing-gown. Some of her belongings
+were scattered about his room, giving it a delicate air of femininity.
+The faint odour of her favourite and only perfume gave to her undoubted
+presence a wonderful sense of reality.
+
+She held out her hands to him, and the broad sleeves of her
+dressing-gown fell away from her white rounded arms. Her eyes were
+wonderfully soft, the pink upon her cheeks was the blush of a girl.
+
+“Victor,” she murmured, “do not look so stupefied. Did you not believe
+that I would risk at least a little for you, who have risked so much for
+me? Only come to me! Make the most of me. All sorts of things are sure
+to happen directly I am found out.”
+
+He took her into his arms. It was one of the moments of his lifetime.
+
+“Tell me,” he murmured, “how have you dared to do this?”
+
+She laughed.
+
+“You know the Prince and his set. You know the way they bribe. Intrigues
+everywhere, new and old overlapping. They have really some reason for
+keeping you and me apart, but as regards my other movements, I am free
+enough. And they thought, Victor--don’t be angry--but I let them
+think it was some one else. And I stole away from the ball, and they
+think--never mind what they think. But you, Victor, are my intrigue,
+you, my love, my husband!”
+
+Then all the fatigue and all the weariness, died away from Mr. Sabin’s
+face. Once more the fire of youth burned in his heart. And Lucille
+laughed softly as her lips met his, and her head sank upon his shoulder.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+Lady Carey suddenly dropped her partner’s arm. She had seen a man
+standing by himself with folded arms and moody face at the entrance
+to the ball-room. She raised her lorgnettes. His identity was
+unquestionable.
+
+“Will you excuse me for a moment, Captain Horton,” she said to her
+escort. “I want particularly to speak to Mr. Brott.”
+
+Captain Horton bowed with the slight disappointment of a hungry man on
+his way to the supper-room.
+
+“Don’t be long,” he begged. “The places are filling up.”
+
+Lady Carey nodded and walked swiftly across to where Brott was standing.
+He moved eagerly forward to meet her.
+
+“Not dancing, Mr. Brott?”
+
+He shrugged his shoulders.
+
+“This sort of thing isn’t much in my way,” he answered. “I was rather
+hoping to see the Countess here. I trust that she is not indisposed.”
+
+She looked at him steadily.
+
+“Do you mean,” she said, “that you do not know where she is?”
+
+“I?” he answered in amazement. “How should I? I have not seen her at all
+this evening. I understood that she was to be here.”
+
+Lady Carey hesitated. The man was too honest to be able to lie like
+this, even in a good cause. She stood quite still for a moment thinking.
+Several of her dearest friends had already told her that she was looking
+tired and ill this evening. At that moment she was positively haggard.
+
+“I have been down at Ranelagh this afternoon,” she said slowly, “and
+dining out, so I have not seen Lucille. She was complaining of a
+headache yesterday, but I quite thought that she was coming here. Have
+you seen the Duchess?”
+
+He shook his head.
+
+“No. There is such a crowd.”
+
+Lady Carey glanced towards her escort and turned away.
+
+“I will try and find out what has become of her,” she said. “Don’t go
+away yet.”
+
+She rejoined her escort.
+
+“When we have found a table,” she said, “I want you to keep my place for
+a few moments while I try and find some of my party.”
+
+They passed into the supper-room, and appropriated a small table. Lady
+Carey left her partner, and made her way to the farther end of the
+apartment, where the Prince of Saxe Leinitzer was supping with half a
+dozen men and women. She touched him on the shoulder.
+
+“I want to speak to you for a moment, Ferdinand,” she whispered.
+
+He rose at once, and she drew him a little apart.
+
+“Brott is here,” she said slowly.
+
+“Brott here!” he repeated. “And Lucille?”
+
+“He is asking for her--expected to find her here. He is downstairs now,
+looking the picture of misery.”
+
+He looked at her inquiringly. There was a curious steely light in
+her eyes, and she was showing her front teeth, which were a little
+prominent.
+
+“Do you think,” he asked, “that she has deceived us?”
+
+“What else? Where are the Dorsets?”
+
+“The Duchess is with the Earl of Condon, and some more people at the
+round table under the balcony.”
+
+“Give me your arm,” she whispered. “We must go and ask her.”
+
+They crossed the room together. Lady Carey sank into a vacant chair by
+the side of the Duchess and talked for a few minutes to the people whom
+she knew. Then she turned and whispered in the Duchess’s ear.
+
+“Where is Lucille?”
+
+The Duchess looked at her with a meaning smile.
+
+“How should I know? She left when we did.”
+
+“Alone?”
+
+“Yes. It was all understood, wasn’t it?”
+
+Lady Carey laughed unpleasantly.
+
+“She has fooled us,” she said. “Brott is here alone. Knows nothing of
+her.”
+
+The Duchess was puzzled.
+
+“Well, I know nothing more than you do,” she answered. “Are you sure the
+man is telling the truth?”
+
+“Of course. He is the image of despair.”
+
+“I am sure she was in earnest,” the Duchess said. “When I asked her
+whether she should come on here she laughed a little nervously, and said
+perhaps or something of that sort.”
+
+“The fool may have bungled it,” Lady Carey said thoughtfully. “I will
+go back to him. There’s that idiot of a partner of mine. I must go and
+pretend to have some supper.”
+
+Captain Horton found his vis-a-vis a somewhat unsatisfactory companion.
+She drank several glasses of champagne, ate scarcely anything, and
+rushed him away before he had taken the edge off his appetite. He
+brought her to the Duchess and went back in a huff to finish his supper
+alone. Lady Carey went downstairs and discovered Mr. Brott, who had
+scarcely moved.
+
+“Have you seen anything of her?” she asked.
+
+He shook his head gloomily.
+
+“No! It is too late for her to come now, isn’t it?”
+
+“Take me somewhere where we can talk,” she said abruptly. “One of those
+seats in the recess will do.”
+
+He obeyed her, and they found a retired corner. Lady Carey wasted no
+time in fencing.
+
+“I am Lucille’s greatest friend, Mr. Brott, and her confidante,” she
+said.
+
+He nodded.
+
+“So I have understood.”
+
+“She tells me everything.”
+
+He glanced towards her a little uneasily.
+
+“That is comprehensive!” he remarked.
+
+“It is true,” she answered. “Lucille has told me a great deal about your
+friendship! Come, there is no use in our mincing words. Lucille has
+been badly treated years ago, and she has a perfect right to seek any
+consolation she may find. The old fashioned ideas, thank goodness, do
+not hold any longer amongst us. It is not necessary to tie yourself for
+life to a man in order to procure a little diversion.”
+
+“I will not pretend to misunderstand you, Lady Carey,” he said gravely,
+“but I must decline to discuss the Countess of Radantz in connection
+with such matters.”
+
+“Oh, come!” she declared impatiently; “remember that I am her friend.
+Yours is quite the proper attitude, but with me it doesn’t matter. Now
+I am going to ask you a plain question. Had you any engagement with
+Lucille to-night?”
+
+She watched him mercilessly. He was colouring like a boy. Lady Carey’s
+thin lips curled. She had no sympathy with such amateurish love-making.
+Nevertheless, his embarrassment was a great relief to her.
+
+“She promised to be here,” he answered stiffly.
+
+“Everything depends upon your being honest with me,” she continued.
+“You will see from my question that I know. Was there not something said
+about supper at your rooms before or after the dance?”
+
+“I cannot discuss this matter with you or any living person,” he
+answered. “If you know so much why ask me?”
+
+Lady Carey could have shaken the man, but she restrained herself.
+
+“It is sufficient!” she declared. “What I cannot understand is why you
+are here--when Lucille is probably awaiting for you at your rooms.”
+
+He started from his chair as though he had been shot.
+
+“What do you mean?” he exclaimed. “She was to--”
+
+He stopped short. Lady Carey shrugged her shoulders.
+
+“Oh, written you or something, I suppose!” she exclaimed. “Trust an
+Englishman for bungling a love affair. All I can tell you is that she
+left Dorset House in a hansom without the others, and said some thing
+about having supper with some friends.”
+
+Brott sprang to his feet and took a quick step towards the exit.
+
+“It is not possible!” he exclaimed.
+
+She took his arm. He almost dragged her along.
+
+“Well, we are going to see,” she said coolly. “Tell the man to call a
+hansom.”
+
+They drove almost in silence through the Square to Pall Mall. Brott
+leaped out onto the pavement directly the cab pulled up.
+
+“I will wait here,” Lady Carey said. “I only want to know that Lucille
+is safe.”
+
+He disappeared, and she sat forward in the cab drumming idly with
+her forefingers upon the apron. In a few minutes he came back. His
+appearance was quite sufficient. He was very pale. The change in him was
+so ludicrous that she laughed.
+
+“Get in,” she said. “I am going round to Dorset House. We must find out
+if we can what has become of her.”
+
+He obeyed without comment. At Dorset House Lady Carey summoned the
+Duchess’s own maid.
+
+“Marie,” she said, “you were attending upon the Countess Radantz
+to-night?”
+
+“Yes, my lady.”
+
+“At what time did she leave?”
+
+“At about, eleven, my lady.”
+
+“Alone?”
+
+“Yes, my lady.”
+
+Lady Carey looked steadily at the girl.
+
+“Did she take anything with her?”
+
+The girl hesitated. Lady Carey frowned.
+
+“It must be the truth, remember, Marie.”
+
+“Certainly, my lady! She took her small dressing-case.”
+
+Lady Carey set her teeth hard. Then with a movement of her head she
+dismissed the maid. She walked restlessly up and down the room. Then she
+stopped short with a hard little laugh.
+
+“If I give way like this,” she murmured, “I shall be positively hideous,
+and after all, if she was there it was not possible for him--”
+
+She stopped short, and suddenly tearing the handkerchief which she had
+been carrying into shreds threw the pieces upon the floor, and stamped
+upon them. Then she laughed shortly, and turned towards the door.
+
+“Now I must go and get rid of that poor fool outside,” she said. “What a
+bungler!”
+
+Brott was beside himself with impatience.
+
+“Lucille is here,” she announced, stepping in beside him. “She has a
+shocking headache and has gone to bed. As a matter of fact, I believe
+that she was expecting to hear from you.”
+
+“Impossible!” he answered shortly. He was beginning to distrust this
+woman.
+
+“Never mind. You can make it up with her to-morrow. I was foolish to be
+anxious about her at all. Are you coming in again?”
+
+They were at Carmarthen House. He handed her out.
+
+“No, thanks! If you will allow me I will wish you good-night.”
+
+She made her way into the ball-room, and found the Prince of Saxe
+Leinitzer, who was just leaving.
+
+“Do you know where Lucille is?” she asked.
+
+He looked up at her sharply. “Where?”
+
+“At the Carlton Hotel--with him.”
+
+He rose to his feet with slow but evil promptitude. His face just then
+was very unlike the face of an angel. Lady Carey laughed aloud.
+
+“Poor man,” she said mockingly. “It is always the same when you and
+Souspennier meet.”
+
+He set his teeth.
+
+“This time,” he muttered, “I hold the trumps.”
+
+She pointed at the clock. It was nearly four. “She was there at eleven,”
+ she remarked drily.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+“His Highness, the Prince of Saxe Leinitzer!”
+
+Duson stood away from the door with a low bow. The Prince--in the
+buttonhole of whose frock-coat was a large bunch of Russian violets,
+passed across the threshold. Mr. Sabin rose slowly from his chair.
+
+“I fear,” the Prince said suavely, “that I am an early visitor. I can
+only throw myself upon your indulgence and plead the urgency of my
+mission.”
+
+His arrival appeared to have interrupted a late breakfast of the
+Continental order. The small table at which Lucille and Mr. Sabin were
+seated was covered with roses and several dishes of wonderful fruit. A
+coffee equipage was before Lucille. Mr. Sabin, dressed with his usual
+peculiar care and looking ten years younger, had just lit a cigarette.
+
+“We have been anticipating your visit, Prince,” Mr. Sabin remarked, with
+grim courtesy. “Can we offer you coffee or a liqueur?”
+
+“I thank you, no,” the Prince answered. “I seldom take anything
+before lunch. Let me beg that you do not disturb yourselves. With your
+permission I will take this easy-chair. So! That is excellent. We can
+now talk undisturbed.”
+
+Mr. Sabin bowed.
+
+“You will find me,” he said, “an excellent listener.”
+
+The Prince smiled in an amiable manner. His eyes were fixed upon
+Lucille, who had drawn her chair a little away from the table. What
+other woman in the world who had passed her first youth could sit thus
+in the slanting sunlight and remain beautiful?
+
+“I will ask you to believe,” the Prince said slowly, “how sincerely
+I regret this unavoidable interference in a domestic happiness so
+touching. Nevertheless, I have come for the Countess. It is necessary
+that she returns to Dorset House this morning.”
+
+“You will oblige me,” Mr. Sabin remarked, “by remembering that my wife
+is the Duchesse de Souspennier, and by so addressing her.”
+
+The Prince spread out his hands--a deprecating gesture.
+
+“Alas!” he said, “for the present it is not possible. Until the little
+affair upon which we are now engaged is finally disposed of it is
+necessary that Lucille should be known by the title which she bears
+in her own right, or by the name of her late husband, Mr. James B.
+Peterson.”
+
+“That little affair,” Mr. Sabin remarked, “is, I presume, the matter
+which you have come to explain to me.”
+
+The Prince smiled and shook his head.
+
+“Explain! My dear Duke, that is not possible. It is not within your
+rights to ask questions or to require any explanation as to anything
+which Lucille is required to do by us. You must remember that our claim
+upon her comes before yours. It is a claim which she cannot evade or
+deny. And in pursuance of it, Countess, I deeply regret having to
+tell you that your presence at Dorset House within the next hour is
+demanded.”
+
+Lucille made no answer, but looked across the table at Mr. Sabin with a
+little grimace.
+
+“It is a comedy,” she murmured. “After all, it is a comedy!”
+
+Mr. Sabin fingered his cigarette thoughtfully.
+
+“I believe,” he said, “that the Duchess realises her responsibilities in
+this matter. I myself have no wish to deny them. As ordinary members
+we are both pledged to absolute obedience. I therefore place no embargo
+upon the return of my wife to Dorset House. But there are certain
+conditions, Prince, that considering the special circumstances of the
+case I feel impelled to propose.”
+
+“I can recognise,” the Prince said, “no conditions.”
+
+“They are very harmless,” Mr. Sabin continued calmly. “The first is that
+in a friendly way, and of course under the inviolable law of secrecy,
+you explain to me for what part Lucille is cast in this little comedy;
+the next that I be allowed to see her at reasonable intervals,
+and finally that she is known by her rightful name as Duchesse de
+Souspennier.”
+
+The forced urbanity which the Prince had assumed fell away from him
+without warning. The tone of his reply was almost a sneer.
+
+“I repeat,” he said, “that I can recognise no conditions.”
+
+“It is perhaps,” Mr. Sabin continued, “the wrong word to use. We submit
+to your authority, but you and I are well aware that your discretionary
+powers are large. I ask you to use them.”
+
+“And I,” the Prince said, “refuse. Let me add that I intend to prevent
+any recurrence of your little adventure of last night. Lucille shall not
+see you again until her task is over. And as for you, my dear Duke, I
+desire only your absence. I do not wish to hurt your feelings, but your
+name has been associated in the past with too many failures to inspire
+us with any confidence in engaging you as an ally. Countess, a carriage
+from Dorset House awaits you.”
+
+But Lucille sat still, and Mr. Sabin rose slowly to his feet.
+
+“I thank you, Prince,” he said, “for throwing away the mask. Fighting
+is always better without the buttons. It is true that I have failed
+more than once, but it is also true that my failures have been more
+magnificent than your waddle across the plain of life. As for your
+present authority, I challenge you to your face that you are using it to
+gain your private ends. What I have said to you I shall repeat to those
+whose place is above yours. Lucille shall go to Dorset House, but I warn
+you that I hold my life a slight thing where her welfare is concerned.
+Your hand is upon the lever of a great organization, I am only a unit
+in the world. Yet I would have you remember that more than once, Prince,
+when you and I have met with the odds in your favour the victory has
+been mine. Play the game fairly, and you have nothing to fear from me
+but the open opposition I have promised you. Bring but the shadow of
+evil upon her, misuse your power but ever so slightly against her, and
+I warn you that I shall count the few years of life left to me a
+trifle--of less than no account--until you and I cry quits.”
+
+The Prince smiled, a fat, good-natured smile, behind which the malice
+was indeed well hidden.
+
+“Come, come, my dear Souspennier,” he declared. “This is unworthy of
+you. It is positively melodramatic. It reminds me of the plays of my
+Fatherland, and of your own Adelphi Theatre. We should be men of the
+world, you and I. You must take your defeats with your victories. I can
+assure you that the welfare of the Countess Lucille shall be my special
+care.”
+
+Lucille for the first time spoke. She rose from her chair and rested her
+hands affectionately upon her husband’s shoulder.
+
+“Dear Victor,” she said, “remember that we are in London, and, need
+I add, have confidence in me. The Prince of Saxe Leinitzer and I
+understand one another, I believe. If we do not it is not my fault. My
+presence here at this moment should prove to you how eagerly I shall
+look forward to the time when our separation is no longer necessary.”
+
+She passed away into the inner room with a little farewell gesture
+tender and regretful. Mr. Sabin resumed his seat.
+
+“I believe, Prince,” he said, “that no good can come of any further
+conference between you and me. We understand one another too well. Might
+I suggest therefore that you permit me to ring?”
+
+The Prince rose to his feet.
+
+“You are right,” he said. “The bandying of words between you and me is a
+waste of time. We are both of us too old at the game. But come, before
+I go I will do you a good turn. I will prove that I am in a generous
+mood.”
+
+Mr. Sabin shrugged his shoulders.
+
+“If anything in this world could inspire me with fear,” he remarked, “it
+would be the generosity of the Prince of Saxe Leinitzer.”
+
+The Prince sighed.
+
+“You always misunderstand me,” he murmured. “However, I will prove my
+words. You spoke of an appeal.”
+
+“Certainly,” Mr. Sabin answered. “I intend to impeach you for making
+use of the powers entrusted to you for your own private ends--in other
+words, for making an arbitrary misuse of your position.”
+
+The Prince nodded.
+
+“It is very well put,” he said. “I shall await the result of your appeal
+in fear and trembling. I confess that I am very much afraid. But, come
+now, I am going to be generous. I am going to help you on a little. Do
+you know to whom your appeal must be made?”
+
+“To the Grand Duke!” Mr. Sabin replied.
+
+The Prince shook his head.
+
+“Ah me!” he said, “how long indeed you have been absent from the world.
+The Grand Duke is no longer the head of our little affair. Shall I tell
+you who has succeeded him?”
+
+“I can easily find out,” Mr. Sabin answered.
+
+“Ah, but I warned you that I was in a generous mood,” the Prince said,
+with a smile. “I will save you the trouble. With your permission I will
+whisper the name in your ear. It is not one which we mention lightly.”
+
+He stepped forward and bent his head for a moment. Afterwards, as he
+drew back, the smile upon his lips broadened until he showed all his
+teeth. It was a veritable triumph. Mr. Sabin, taken wholly by surprise,
+had not been able to conceal his consternation.
+
+“It is not possible,” he exclaimed hoarsely. “He would not dare.”
+
+But in his heart he knew that the Prince had spoken the truth.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+“After all,” said the Prince, looking up from the wine list, “why cannot
+I be satisfied with you? And why cannot you be satisfied with me? It
+would save so much trouble.”
+
+Lady Carey, who was slowly unwinding the white veil from her picture
+hat, shrugged her shoulders.
+
+“My dear man,” she said, “you could not seriously expect me to fall in
+love with you.”
+
+The Prince sipped his wine--a cabinet hock of rare vintage--and found it
+good. He leaned over towards his companion.
+
+“Why not?” he asked. “I wish that you would try--in earnest, I mean.
+You are capable of great things, I believe--perhaps of the great passion
+itself.”
+
+“Perhaps,” she murmured derisively.
+
+“And yet,” he continued, “there has always been in our love-making a
+touch of amateurishness. It is an awkward word, but I do not know how
+better to explain myself.”
+
+“I understand you perfectly,” she answered. “I can also, I think,
+explain it. It is because I never cared a rap about you.”
+
+The Prince did not appear altogether pleased. He curled his fair
+moustache, and looked deprecatingly at his companion. She had so much
+the air of a woman who has spoken the truth.
+
+“My dear Muriel!” he protested.
+
+She looked at him insolently.
+
+“My good man,” she said, “whatever you do don’t try and be sentimental.
+You know quite well that I have never in my life pretended to care a rap
+about you--except to pass the time. You are altogether too obvious. Very
+young girls and very old women would rave about you. You simply don’t
+appeal to me. Perhaps I know you too well. What does it matter!”
+
+He sighed and examined a sauce critically. They were lunching at
+Prince’s alone, at a small table near the wall.
+
+“Your taste,” he remarked a little spitefully, “would be considered a
+trifle strange. Souspennier carries his years well, but he must be an
+old man.”
+
+She sipped her wine thoughtfully.
+
+“Old or young,” she said, “he is a man, and all my life I have loved
+men,--strong men. To have him here opposite to me at this moment, mine,
+belonging to me, the slave of my will, I would give--well, I would
+give--a year of my life--my new tiara--anything!”
+
+“What a pity,” he murmured, “that we cannot make an exchange, you and I,
+Lucille and he!”
+
+“Ah, Lucille!” she murmured. “Well, she is beautiful. That goes for
+much. And she has the grand air. But, heavens, how stupid!”
+
+“Stupid!” he repeated doubtfully.
+
+She drummed nervously upon the tablecloth with her fingers.
+
+“Oh, not stupid in the ordinary way, of course, but yet a fool. I should
+like to see man or devil try and separate us if I belonged to him--until
+I was tired of him. That would come, of course. It comes always. It is
+the hideous part of life.”
+
+“You look always,” he said, “a little too far forward. It is a mistake.
+After all, it is the present only which concerns us.”
+
+“Admirable philosophy,” she laughed scornfully, “but when one is
+bored to death in the present one must look forward or backward for
+consolation.”
+
+He continued his lunch in silence for a while.
+
+“I am rebuked!” he said.
+
+There came a pause in the courses. He looked at her critically. She was
+very handsomely dressed in a walking costume of dove-coloured grey. The
+ostrich feathers which drooped from her large hat were almost priceless.
+She had the undeniable air of being a person of breeding. But she
+was paler even than usual, her hair, notwithstanding its careful
+arrangement, gave signs of being a little thin in front. There were
+wrinkles at the corners of her eyes. She knew these things, but she bore
+his inspection with indifference.
+
+“I wonder,” he said reflectively, “what we men see in you. You have
+plenty of admirers. They say that Grefton got himself shot out at the
+front because you treated him badly. Yet--you are not much to look at,
+are you?”
+
+She laughed at him. Hers was never a pleasant laugh, but this time it
+was at least natural.
+
+“How discriminating,” she declared. “I am an ugly woman, and men of
+taste usually prefer ugly women. Then I am always well dressed. I know
+how to wear my clothes. And I have a shocking reputation. A really
+wicked woman, I once heard pious old Lady Surbiton call me! Dear old
+thing! It did me no end of good. Then I have the very great advantage
+of never caring for any one more than a few days together. Men find that
+annoying.”
+
+“You have violent fancies,” he remarked, “and strange ones.”
+
+“Perhaps,” she admitted. “They concern no one except myself.”
+
+“This Souspennier craze, for instance!”
+
+She nodded.
+
+“Well, you can’t say that I’m not honest. It is positively my only
+virtue. I adore the truth. I loathe a lie. That is one reason, I
+daresay, why I can only barely tolerate you. You are a shocking--a gross
+liar.”
+
+“Muriel!”
+
+“Oh, don’t look at me like that,” she exclaimed irritably. “You must
+hear the truth sometimes. And now, please remember that I came to lunch
+with you to hear about your visit this morning.”
+
+The Prince gnawed his moustache, and the light in his eyes was not
+a pleasant thing to see. This woman with her reckless life, her odd
+fascination, her brusque hatred of affectations, was a constant torment
+to him. If only he could once get her thoroughly into his power.
+
+“My visit,” he said, “was wholly successful. It could not well be
+otherwise. Lucille has returned to Dorset House. Souspennier is
+confounded altogether by a little revelation which I ventured to make.
+He spoke of an appeal. I let him know with whom he would have to deal.
+I left him nerveless and crushed. He can do nothing save by open revolt.
+And if he tries that--well, there will be no more of this wonderful Mr.
+Sabin.”
+
+“Altogether a triumph to you,” she remarked scornfully. “Oh, I know the
+sort of thing. But, after all, my dear Ferdinand, what of last night.
+I hate the woman, but she played the game, and played it well. We were
+fooled, both of us. And to think that I--”
+
+She broke off with a short laugh. The Prince looked at her curiously.
+
+“Perhaps,” he said, “you had some idea of consoling the desolate
+husband?”
+
+“Perhaps I had,” she answered coolly. “It didn’t come off, did it? Order
+me some coffee, and give me a cigarette, my friend. I have something
+else to say to you.”
+
+He obeyed her, and she leaned back in the high chair.
+
+“Listen to me,” she said. “I have nothing whatever to do with you and
+Lucille. I suppose you will get your revenge on Souspennier through her.
+It won’t be like you if you don’t try, and you ought to have the game
+pretty well in your own hands. But I won’t have Souspennier harmed. You
+understand?”
+
+He shrugged his shoulders.
+
+“Souspennier,” he said, “must take care. If he oversteps the bounds he
+must pay the penalty.”
+
+She leaned forward. There was a look in her face which he knew very
+well.
+
+“You and I understand one another,” she said coolly. “If you want me for
+an enemy you can have me. Very likely I shall tell you before long that
+you can do what you like with the man. But until I do it will be very
+dangerous for you if harm comes to him.”
+
+“It is no use,” he answered doggedly. “If he attacks he must be
+silenced.”
+
+“If he attacks,” she answered, “you must give me twenty-four hours clear
+notice before you move a hand against him. Afterwards--well, we will
+discuss that.”
+
+“You had better,” he said, looking at her with an ugly gleam in his
+eyes, “persuade him to take you for a little tour on the Continent. It
+would be safer.”
+
+“If he would come,” she said coolly, “I would go to-morrow. But he
+won’t--just yet. Never mind. You have heard what I wanted to say. Now
+shall we go? I am going to get some sleep this afternoon. Everybody
+tells me that I look like a ghost.”
+
+“Why not come to Grosvenor Square with me?” he leaning a little across
+the table. “Patoff shall make you some Russian tea, and afterwards you
+shall sleep as long as you like.”
+
+“How idyllic!” she answered, with a faint sarcastic smile. “It goes
+to my heart to decline so charming an invitation. But, to tell you the
+truth, it would bore me excessively.”
+
+He muttered something under his breath which startled the waiter at
+his elbow. Then he followed her out of the room. She paused for a few
+moments in the portico to finish buttoning her gloves.
+
+“Many thanks for my lunch,” she said, nodding to him carelessly. “I’m
+sure I’ve been a delightful companion.”
+
+“You have been a very tormenting one,” he answered gloomily as he
+followed her out on to the pavement.
+
+“You should try Lucille,” she suggested maliciously.
+
+He stood by her side while they waited for her carriage, and looked
+at her critically. Her slim, elegant figure had never seemed more
+attractive to him. Even the insolence of her tone and manner had an odd
+sort of fascination. He tried to hold for a moment the fingers which
+grasped her skirt.
+
+“I think,” he whispered, “that after you Lucille would be dull!”
+
+She laughed.
+
+“That is because Lucille has morals and a conscience,” she said, “and
+I have neither. But, dear me, how much more comfortably one gets on
+without them. No, thank you, Prince. My coupe is only built for one.
+Remember.”
+
+She flung him a careless nod from the window. The Prince remained on the
+pavement until after the little brougham had driven away. Then he smiled
+softly to himself as he turned to follow it.
+
+“No!” he said. “I think not! I think that she will not get our good
+friend Souspennier. We shall see!”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+A barely furnished man’s room, comfortable, austere, scholarly. The
+refuge of a busy man, to judge by the piles of books and papers which
+littered the large open writing-table. There were despatch boxes turned
+upside down, a sea of parchment and foolscap. In the midst of it all a
+man deep in thought.
+
+A visitor, entering with the freedom of an old acquaintance, laid
+his hand upon his shoulder and greeted him with an air of suppressed
+enthusiasm.
+
+“Planning the campaign, eh, Brott? Or is that a handbook to Court
+etiquette? You will need it within the week. There are all sorts of
+rumours at the clubs.”
+
+Brott shook himself free from his fit of apathetic reflection. He would
+not have dared to tell his visitor where his thoughts had been for the
+last half hour.
+
+“Somehow,” he said, “I do not think that little trip to Windsor will
+come just yet. The King will never send for me unless he is compelled.”
+
+His visitor, an ex-Cabinet Minister, a pronounced Radical and a lifelong
+friend of Brott’s, shrugged his shoulders.
+
+“That time,” he said, “is very close at hand. He will send for
+Letheringham first, of course, and great pressure will be brought to
+bear upon him to form a ministry. But without you he will be helpless.
+He has not the confidence of the people.”
+
+“Without me,” Brott repeated slowly. “You think then that I should not
+accept office with Letheringham?”
+
+His visitor regarded him steadily for a moment, open-mouthed, obviously
+taken aback.
+
+“Brott, are you in your right senses?” he asked incredulously. “Do you
+know what you are saying?”
+
+Brott laughed a little nervously.
+
+“This is a great issue, Grahame,” he said. “I will confess that I am in
+an undecided state. I am not sure that the country is in a sufficiently
+advanced state for our propaganda. Is this really our opportunity, or is
+it only the shadow of what is to come thrown before? If we show our hand
+too soon all is lost for this generation. Don’t look at me as though I
+were insane, Grahame. Remember that the country is only just free from a
+long era of Conservative rule.”
+
+“The better our opportunity,” Grahame answered vigorously. “Two decades
+of puppet government are enervating, I admit, but they only pave the
+way more surely to the inevitable reaction. What is the matter with
+you, Brott? Are you ill? This is the great moment of our lives. You must
+speak at Manchester and Birmingham within this week. Glasgow is already
+preparing for you. Everything and everybody waits for your judgment.
+Good God, man, it’s magnificent! Where’s your enthusiasm? Within a month
+you must be Prime Minister, and we will show the world the way to a new
+era.”
+
+Brott sat quite still. His friend’s words had stirred him for the
+moment. Yet he seemed the victim of a curious indecision. Grahame leaned
+over towards him.
+
+“Brott, old friend,” he said, “you are not ill?”
+
+Brott shook his head.
+
+“I am perfectly well,” he said.
+
+Grahame hesitated.
+
+“It is a delicate thing to mention,” he said. “Perhaps I shall pass even
+the bounds of our old comradeship. But you have changed. Something is
+wrong with you. What is it?”
+
+“There is nothing,” Brott answered, looking up. “It is your fancy. I am
+well enough.”
+
+Grahame’s face was dark with anxiety.
+
+“This is no idle curiosity of mine,” he said. “You know me better than
+that. But the cause which is nearer my heart than life itself is at
+stake. Brott, you are the people’s man, their promised redeemer. Think
+of them, the toilers, the oppressed, God’s children, groaning under the
+iniquitous laws of generations of evil statesmanship. It is the dawn of
+their new day, their faces are turned to you. Man, can’t you hear them
+crying? You can’t fail them. You mustn’t. I don’t know what is the
+matter with you, Brott, but away with it. Free yourself, man.”
+
+Brott sighed wearily, but already there was a change in him. His
+face was hardening--the lines in his face deepened. Grahame continued
+hastily--eagerly.
+
+“Public men,” he said, “are always at the mercy of the halfpenny press,
+but you know, Brott, your appearance so often in Society lately has set
+men’s tongues wagging. There is no harm done, but it is time to stop
+them. You are right to want to understand these people. You must go down
+amongst them. It has been slumming in Mayfair for you, I know. But have
+done with it now. It is these people we are going to fight. Let it be
+open war. Let them hear your programme at Glasgow. We don’t want another
+French Revolution, but it is going to be war against the drones, fierce,
+merciless war! You must break with them, Brott, once and for ever. And
+the time is now.”
+
+Brott held out his hand across the table. No one but this one man could
+have read the struggle in his face.
+
+“You are right, Grahame. I thank you. I thank you as much for what you
+have left unsaid as for what you have said. I was a fool to think of
+compromising. Letheringham is a nerveless leader. We should have gone
+pottering on for another seven years. Thank God that you came when you
+did. See here!”
+
+He tossed him over a letter. Grahame’s cheek paled as he read.
+
+“Already!” he murmured.
+
+Brott nodded.
+
+“Read it!”
+
+Grahame devoured every word. His eyes lit up with excitement.
+
+“My prophecy exactly,” he exclaimed, laying it down. “It is as I said.
+He cannot form the ministry without you. His letter is abject. He gives
+himself away. It is an entreaty. And your answer?”
+
+“Has not yet gone,” Brott said. “You shall write it yourself if you
+like. I am thankful that you came when you did.”
+
+“You were hesitating?” Grahame exclaimed.
+
+“I was.”
+
+Grahame looked at him in wonder, and Brott faced him sturdily.
+
+“It seems like treason to you, Grahame!” he said. “So it does to me
+now. I want nothing in the future to come between us,” he continued
+more slowly, “and I should like if I can to expunge the memory of this
+interview. And so I am going to tell you the truth.” Grahame held out
+his hand.
+
+“Don’t!” he said. “I can forget without.”
+
+Brott shook his head.
+
+“No,” he said. “You had better understand everything. The halfpenny
+press told the truth. Yet only half the truth. I have been to all
+these places, wasted my time, wasted their time, from a purely selfish
+reason--to be near the only woman I have ever cared for, the woman,
+Grahame!”
+
+“I knew it,” Grahame murmured. “I fought against the belief, I thought
+that I had stifled it. But I knew it all the time.”
+
+“If I have seemed lukewarm sometimes of late,” Brott said, “there is the
+cause. She is an aristocrat, and my politics are hateful to her. She has
+told me so seriously, playfully, angrily. She has let me feel it in a
+hundred ways. She has drawn me into discussions and shown the utmost
+horror of my views. I have cared for her all my life, and she knows
+it. And I think, Grahame, that lately she has been trying constantly,
+persistently, to tone down my opinions. She has let me understand that
+they are a bar between us. And it is a horrible confession, Grahame, but
+I believe that I was wavering. This invitation from Letheringham seemed
+such a wonderful opportunity for compromise.”
+
+“This must never go out of the room,” Grahame said hoarsely. “It would
+ruin your popularity. They would never trust you again.”
+
+“I shall tell no one else,” Brott said.
+
+“And it is over?” Grahame demanded eagerly.
+
+“It is over.”
+
+     *           *           *           *           *
+
+The Duke of Dorset, who entertained for his party, gave a great dinner
+that night at Dorset House, and towards its close the Prince of Saxe
+Leinitzer, who was almost the only non-political guest, moved up to his
+host in response to an eager summons. The Duke was perturbed.
+
+“You have heard the news, Saxe Leinitzer?”
+
+“I did not know of any news,” the Prince answered. “What is it?”
+
+“Brott has refused to join with Letheringham in forming a ministry. It
+is rumoured even that a coalition was proposed, and that Brott would
+have nothing to do with it.”
+
+The Prince looked into his wineglass.
+
+“Ah!” he said.
+
+“This is disturbing news,” the Duke continued. “You do not seem to
+appreciate its significance.”
+
+The Prince looked up again.
+
+“Perhaps not,” he said. “You shall explain to me.”
+
+“Brott refuses to compromise,” the Duke said. “He stands for a ministry
+of his own selection. Heaven only knows what mischief this may mean.
+His doctrines are thoroughly revolutionary. He is an iconoclast with a
+genius for destruction. But he has the ear of the people. He is to-day
+their Rienzi.”
+
+The Prince nodded.
+
+“And Lucille?” he remarked. “What does she say?”
+
+“I have not spoken to her,” the Duke answered. “The news has only just
+come.”
+
+“We will speak to her,” the Prince said, “together.”
+
+Afterwards in the library there was a sort of informal meeting, and
+their opportunity came.
+
+“So you have failed, Countess,” her host said, knitting his grey brows
+at her.
+
+She smilingly acknowledged defeat.
+
+“But I can assure you,” she said, “that I was very near success. Only
+on Monday he had virtually made up his mind to abandon the extreme party
+and cast in his lot with Letheringham. What has happened to change him I
+do not know.”
+
+The Prince curled his fair moustache.
+
+“It is a pity,” he said, “that he changed his mind. For one thing is
+very certain. The Duke and I are agreed upon it. A Brott ministry must
+never be formed.”
+
+She looked up quickly.
+
+“What do you mean?”
+
+The Prince answered her without hesitation.
+
+“If one course fails,” he said, “another must be adopted. I regret
+having to make use of means which are somewhat clumsy and obvious. But
+our pronouncement on this one point is final. Brott must not be allowed
+to form a ministry.”
+
+She looked at him with something like horror in her soft full eyes.
+
+“What would you do?” she murmured.
+
+The Prince shrugged his shoulders.
+
+“Well,” he said, “we are not quite medieval enough to adopt the only
+really sensible method and remove Mr. Brott permanently from the face of
+the earth. We should stop a little short of that, but I can assure you
+that Mr. Brott’s health for the next few months is a matter for grave
+uncertainty. It is a pity for his sake that you failed.”
+
+She bit her lip.
+
+“Do you know if he is still in London?” she asked.
+
+“He must be on the point of leaving for Scotland,” the Duke answered.
+“If he once mounts the platform at Glasgow there will be no further
+chance of any compromise. He will be committed irretrievably to his
+campaign of anarchy.”
+
+“And to his own disaster,” the Prince murmured.
+
+Lucille remained for a moment deep in thought. Then she looked up.
+
+“If I can find him before he starts,” she said hurriedly, “I will make
+one last effort.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV
+
+He peered forward over his desk at the tall graceful figure whose
+entrance had been so noiseless, and whose footsteps had been so light
+that she stood almost within a few feet of him before he was even aware
+of her presence. Then his surprise was so great that he could only gasp
+out her name.
+
+“You! Lucille!”
+
+She smiled upon him delightfully.
+
+“Me! Lucille! Don’t blame your servant. I assured him that I was
+expected, so he allowed me to enter unannounced. His astonishment was
+a delightful testimony to your reputation, by the bye. He was evidently
+not used to these invasions.”
+
+Brott had recovered himself by this time, and if any emotion still
+remained he was master of it.
+
+“You must forgive my surprise!” he said. “You have of course something
+important to say to me. Will you not loosen your cloak?”
+
+She unfastened the clasp and seated herself in his most comfortable
+chair. The firelight flashed and glittered on the silver ornaments of
+her dress; her neck and arms, with their burden of jewels, gleamed like
+porcelain in the semi-darkness outside the halo of his student lamp. And
+he saw that her dark hair hung low behind in graceful folds as he had
+once admired it. He stood a little apart, and she noted his traveling
+clothes and the various signs of a journey about the room.
+
+“You may be glad to see me,” she remarked, looking at him with a smile.
+“You don’t look it.”
+
+“I am anxious to hear your news,” he answered. “I am convinced that you
+have something important to say to me.”
+
+“Supposing,” she answered, still looking at him steadily, “supposing
+I were to say that I had no object in coming here at all--that it was
+merely a whim? What should you say then?”
+
+“I should take the liberty,” he answered quietly, “of doubting the
+evidence of my senses.”
+
+There was a moment’s silence. She felt his aloofness. It awoke in her
+some of the enthusiasm with which this mission itself had failed to
+inspire her. This man was measuring his strength against hers.
+
+“It was not altogether a whim,” she said, her eyes falling from his,
+“and yet--now I am here--it does not seem easy to say what was in my
+mind.”
+
+He glanced towards the clock.
+
+“I fear,” he said, “that it may sound ungallant, but in case this
+somewhat mysterious mission of yours is of any importance I had better
+perhaps tell you that in twenty minutes I must leave to catch the Scotch
+mail.”
+
+She rose at once to her feet, and swept her cloak haughtily around her.
+
+“I have made a mistake,” she said. “Be so good as to pardon my
+intrusion. I shall not trouble you again.”
+
+She was half-way across the room. She was at the door, her hand was upon
+the handle. He was white to the lips, his whole frame was shaking with
+the effort of intense repression. He kept silence, till only a flutter
+of her cloak was to be seen in the doorway. And then the cry which he
+had tried so hard to stifle broke from his lips.
+
+“Lucille! Lucille!”
+
+She hesitated, and came back--looking at him, so he thought, with
+trembling lips and eyes soft with unshed tears.
+
+“I was a brute,” he murmured. “I ought to be grateful for this chance of
+seeing you once more, of saying good-bye to you.”
+
+“Good-bye!” she repeated.
+
+“Yes,” he said gravely. “It must be good-bye. I have a great work before
+me, and it will cut me off completely from all association with your
+world and your friends. Something wider and deeper than an ocean will
+divide us. Something so wide that our hands will never reach across.”
+
+“You can talk about it very calmly,” she said, without looking at him.
+
+“I have been disciplining myself,” he answered.
+
+She rested her face upon her hand, and looked into the fire.
+
+“I suppose,” she said, “this means that you have refused Mr.
+Letheringham’s offer.”
+
+“I have refused it,” he answered.
+
+“I am sorry,” she said simply.
+
+She rose from her chair with a sudden start, began to draw on her cloak,
+and then let it fall altogether from her shoulders.
+
+“Why do you do this?” she asked earnestly. “Is it that you are so
+ambitious? You used not to be so--in the old days.”
+
+He laughed bitterly.
+
+“You too, then,” he said, “can remember. Ambitious! Well, why not? To
+be Premier of England, to stand for the people, to carry through to its
+logical consummation a bloodless revolution, surely this is worth while.
+Is there anything in the world better worth having than power?”
+
+“Yes,” she answered, looking him full in the eyes.
+
+“What is it then? Let me know before it is too late.”
+
+“Love!”
+
+He threw his arms about her. For a moment she was powerless in his
+grasp.
+
+“So be it then,” he cried fiercely. “Give me the one, and I will deny
+the other. Only no half measures! I will drink to the bottom of the cup
+or not at all.”
+
+She shook herself free from him, breathless, consumed with an anger to
+which she dared not give voice. For a moment or two she was speechless.
+Her bosom rose and fell, a bright streak of colour flared in her cheeks.
+Brott stood away from her, white and stern.
+
+“You--are clumsy!” she said. “You frighten me!”
+
+Her words carried no conviction. He looked at her with a new suspicion.
+
+“You talk like a child,” he answered roughly, “or else your whole
+conduct is a fraud. For months I have been your slave. I have abandoned
+my principles, given you my time, followed at your heels like a tame
+dog. And for what? You will not marry me, you will not commit yourself
+to anything. You are a past mistress in the art of binding fools to your
+chariot wheels. You know that I love you--that there breathes on this
+earth no other woman for me but you. I have told you this in all save
+words a hundred times. And now--now it is my turn. I have been played
+with long enough. You are here unbidden--unexpected. You can consider
+that door locked. Now tell me why you came.”
+
+Lucille had recovered herself. She stood before him, white but calm.
+
+“Because,” she said, “I am a woman.”
+
+“That means that you came without reason--on impulse?” he asked.
+
+“I came,” she said, “because I heard that you were about to take a step
+which must separate us for ever.”
+
+“And that,” he asked, “disturbed you?”
+
+“Yes!”
+
+“Come, we are drawing nearer together,” he said, a kindling light in
+his eyes. “Now answer me this. How much do you care if this eternal
+separation does come? Here am I on the threshold of action. Unless I
+change my mind within ten minutes I must throw in my lot with those whom
+you and your Order loathe and despise. There can be no half measures.
+I must be their leader, or I must vanish from the face of the
+political world. This I will do if you bid me. But the price must be
+yourself--wholly, without reservation--yourself, body and soul.”
+
+“You care--as much as that?” she murmured.
+
+“Ask me no questions, answer mine!” he cried fiercely. “You shall stay
+with me here--or in five minutes I leave on my campaign.”
+
+She laughed musically.
+
+“This is positively delicious,” she exclaimed. “I am being made love to
+in medieval fashion. Other times other manners, sir! Will you listen to
+reason?”
+
+“I will listen to nothing--save your answer, yes or no,” he declared,
+drawing on his overcoat.
+
+She laid her hand upon his shoulder.
+
+“Reginald,” she said, “you are like the whirlwind--and how can I answer
+you in five minutes!”
+
+“You can answer me in one,” he declared fiercely. “Will you pay my price
+if I do your bidding? Yes or no! The price is yourself. Now! Yes or no?”
+
+She drew on her own cloak and fastened the clasp with shaking fingers.
+Then she turned towards the door.
+
+“I wish you good-bye and good fortune, Reginald,” she said. “I daresay
+we may not meet again. It will be better that we do not.”
+
+“This then is your answer?” he cried.
+
+She looked around at him. Was it his fancy, or were those tears in her
+eyes? Or was she really so wonderful an actress?
+
+“Do you think,” she said, “that if I had not cared I should have come
+here?”
+
+“Tell me that in plain words,” he cried. “It is all I ask.”
+
+The door was suddenly opened. Grahame stood upon the threshold. He
+looked beyond Lucille to Brott.
+
+“You must really forgive me,” he said, “but there is barely time to
+catch the train, Brott. I have a hansom waiting, and your luggage is
+on.”
+
+Brott answered nothing. Lucille held out her hands to him.
+
+“Yes or no?” he asked her in a low hoarse tone.
+
+“You must--give me time! I don’t want to lose you. I--”
+
+He caught up his coat.
+
+“Coming, Grahame,” he said firmly. “Countess, I must beg your pardon
+ten thousand times for this abrupt departure. My servants will call your
+carriage.”
+
+She leaned towards him, beautiful, anxious, alluring.
+
+“Reginald!”
+
+“Yes or no,” he whispered in her ear.
+
+“Give me until to-morrow,” she faltered.
+
+“Not one moment,” he answered. “Yes--now, this instant--or I go!”
+
+“Brott! My dear man, we have not a second to lose.”
+
+“You hear!” he muttered. “Yes or no?”
+
+She trembled.
+
+“Give me until to-morrow,” she begged. “It is for your own sake. For
+your own safety.”
+
+He turned on his heel! His muttered speech was profane, but
+inarticulate. He sprang into the hansom by Grahame’s side.
+
+“Euston!” the latter cried through the trap-door. “Double fare, cabby.
+We must catch the Scotchman.”
+
+Lucille came out a few moments later, and looked up and down the street
+as her brougham drove smartly up. The hansom was fast disappearing in
+the distance. She looked after it and sighed.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI
+
+Lucille gave a little start of amazement as she realised that she was
+not alone in the brougham. She reached out for the check-cord, but a
+strong hand held hers.
+
+“My dear Lucille,” a familiar voice exclaimed, “why this alarm? Is it
+your nerves or your eyesight which is failing you?”
+
+Her hand dropped. She turned towards him.
+
+“It is you, then, Prince!” she said. “But why are you here? I do not
+understand.”
+
+The Prince shrugged his shoulders.
+
+“It is so simple,” he said. “We are all very anxious indeed to hear the
+result of your interview with Brott--and apart from that, I personally
+have too few opportunities to act as your escort to let a chance go by.
+I trust that my presence is not displeasing to you?”
+
+She laughed a little uneasily.
+
+“It is at any rate unnecessary,” she answered. “But since you are here I
+may as well make my confession. I have failed.”
+
+“It is incredible,” the Prince murmured.
+
+“As you will--but it is true,” she answered. “I have done my very best,
+or rather my worst, and the result has been failure. Mr. Brott has a
+great friend--a man named Grahame, whose influence prevailed against
+mine. He has gone to Scotland.”
+
+“That is serious news,” the Prince said quietly.
+
+Lucille leaned back amongst the cushions.
+
+“After all,” she declared, “we are all out of place in this country.
+There is no scope whatever for such schemes and intrigues as you and all
+the rest of them delight in. In France and Russia, even in Austria,
+it is different. The working of all great organisation there is
+underground--it is easy enough to meet plot by counterplot, to suborn,
+to deceive, to undermine. But here all the great games of life seem to
+be played with the cards upon the table. We are hopelessly out of place.
+I cannot think, Prince, what ill chance led you to ever contemplate
+making your headquarters in London.”
+
+The Prince stroked his long moustache.
+
+“That is all very well, Lucille,” he said, “but you must remember that
+in England we have very large subscriptions to the Order. These people
+will not go on paying for nothing. There was a meeting of the London
+branch a few months ago, and it was decided that unless some practical
+work was done in this country all English subscriptions should cease. We
+had no alternative but to come over and attempt something. Brott is of
+course the bete noire of our friends here. He is distinctly the man to
+be struck at.”
+
+“And what evil stroke of fortune,” Lucille asked, “induced you to send
+for me?”
+
+“That is a very cruel speech, dear lady,” the Prince murmured.
+
+“I hope,” Lucille said, “that you have never for a moment imagined that
+I find any pleasure in what I am called upon to do.”
+
+“Why not? It must be interesting. You can have had no sympathy with
+Brott--a hopeless plebeian, a very paragon of Anglo-Saxon stupidity?”
+
+Lucille laughed scornfully.
+
+“Reginald Brott is a man, at any rate, and an honest one,” she answered.
+“But I am too selfish to think much of him. It is myself whom I pity. I
+have a home, Prince, and a husband. I want them both.”
+
+“You amaze me,” the Prince said slowly. “Lucille, indeed, you amaze me.
+You have been buried alive for three years. Positively we believed that
+our summons would sound to you like a message from Heaven.”
+
+Lucille was silent for a moment. She rubbed the mist from the carriage
+window and looked out into the streets.
+
+“Well,” she said, “I hope that you realise now how completely you
+have misunderstood me. I was perfectly happy in America. I have been
+perfectly miserable here. I suppose that I have grown too old for
+intrigues and adventures.”
+
+“Too old, Lucille,” the Prince murmured, leaning a little towards her.
+“Lucille, you are the most beautiful woman in London. Many others may
+have told you so, but there is no one, Lucille, who is so devotedly, so
+hopelessly your slave as I.”
+
+She drew her hand away, and sat back in her corner. The man’s hot
+breath fell upon her cheek, his eyes seemed almost phosphorescent in the
+darkness. Lucille could scarcely keep the biting words from her tongue.
+
+“You do not answer me, Lucille. You do not speak even a single kind
+word to me. Come! Surely we are old friends. We should understand one
+another. It is not a great deal that I ask from your kindness--not a
+great deal to you, but it is all the difference between happiness and
+misery for me.”
+
+“This is a very worn-out game, Prince,” Lucille said coldly. “You have
+been making love to women in very much the same manner for twenty years,
+and I--well, to be frank, I am utterly weary of being made love to
+like a doll. Laugh at me as you will, my husband is the only man who
+interests me in the slightest. My failure to-day is almost welcome to
+me. It has at least brought my work here to a close. Come, Prince, if
+you want to earn my eternal gratitude, tell me now that I am a free
+woman.”
+
+“You give me credit,” the Prince said slowly, “for great generosity. If
+I let you go it seems to me that I shall lose you altogether. You will
+go to your husband. He will take you away!”
+
+“Why not?” Lucille asked. “I want to go. I am tired of London. You
+cannot lose what you never possessed--what you never had the slightest
+chance of possessing.”
+
+The Prince laughed softly--not a pleasant laugh, not even a mirthful
+one.
+
+“Dear lady,” he said, “you speak not wisely. For I am very much in
+earnest when I say that I love you, and until you are kinder to me I
+shall not let you go.”
+
+“That is rather a dangerous threat, is it not?” Lucille asked. “You dare
+to tell me openly that you will abuse your position, that you will
+keep me bound a servant to the cause, because of this foolish fancy of
+yours?”
+
+The Prince smiled at her through the gloom--a white, set smile.
+
+“It is no foolish fancy, Lucille. You will find that out before long.
+You have been cold to me all your life. Yet you would find me a better
+friend than enemy.”
+
+“If I am to choose,” she said steadily, “I shall choose the latter.”
+
+“As you will,” he answered. “In time you will change your mind.”
+
+The carriage had stopped. The Prince alighted and held out his hand.
+Lucille half rose, and then with her foot upon the step she paused and
+looked around.
+
+“Where are we?” she exclaimed. “This is not Dorset House.”
+
+“No, we are in Grosvenor Square,” the Prince answered. “I forgot to tell
+you that we have a meeting arranged for here this evening. Permit me.”
+ But Lucille resumed her seat in the carriage.
+
+“It is your house, is it not?” she asked.
+
+“Yes. My house assuredly.”
+
+“Very well,” Lucille said. “I will come in when the Duchess of Dorset
+shows herself at the window or the front door--or Felix, or even De
+Brouillae.”
+
+The Prince still held open the carriage door.
+
+“They will all be here,” he assured her. “We are a few minutes early.”
+
+“Then I will drive round to Dorset House and fetch the Duchess. It is
+only a few yards.”
+
+The Prince hesitated. His cheeks were very white, and something like a
+scowl was blackening his heavy, insipid face.
+
+“Lucille,” he said, “you are very foolish. It is not much I ask of you,
+but that little I will have or I pledge my word to it that things shall
+go ill with you and your husband. There is plain speech for you. Do not
+be absurd. Come within, and let us talk. What do you fear? The house is
+full of servants, and the carriage can wait for you here.”
+
+Lucille smiled at him--a maddening smile.
+
+“I am not a child,” she said, “and such conversations as I am forced to
+hold with you will not be under your own roof. Be so good as to tell the
+coachman to drive to Dorset House.”
+
+The Prince turned on his heel with a furious oath.
+
+“He can drive you to Hell,” he answered thickly.
+
+Lucille found the Duchess and Lady Carey together at Dorset House. She
+looked from one to the other.
+
+“I thought that there was a meeting to-night,” she remarked.
+
+The Duchess shook her head.
+
+“Not to-night,” she answered. “It would not be possible. General
+Dolinski is dining at Marlborough House, and De Broullae is in Paris.
+Now tell us all about Mr. Brott.”
+
+“He has gone to Scotland,” Lucille answered. “I have failed.”
+
+Lady Carey looked up from the depths of the chair in which she was
+lounging.
+
+“And the prince?” she asked. “He went to meet you!”
+
+“He also failed,” Lucille answered.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII
+
+Mr. SABIN drew a little breath, partly of satisfaction because he
+had discovered the place he sought, and partly of disgust at the
+neighbourhood in which he found himself. Nevertheless, he descended
+three steps from the court into which he had been directed, and pushed
+open the swing door, behind which Emil Sachs announced his desire
+to supply the world with dinners at eightpence and vin ordinaire at
+fourpence the small bottle.
+
+A stout black-eyed woman looked up at his entrance from behind the
+counter. The place was empty.
+
+“What does monsieur require she asked, peering forward through the gloom
+with some suspicion. For the eightpenny dinners were the scorn of the
+neighbourhood, and strangers were rare in the wine shop of Emil Sachs.”
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled.
+
+“One of your excellent omelettes, my good Annette,” he answered, “if
+your hand has not lost its cunning!”
+
+She gave a little cry.
+
+“It is monsieur!” she exclaimed. “After all these years it is monsieur!
+Ah, you will pardon that I did not recognise you. This place is a
+cellar. Monsieur has not changed. In the daylight one would know him
+anywhere.”
+
+The woman talked fast, but even in that dim light Mr. Sabin knew quite
+well that she was shaking with fear. He could see the corners of her
+mouth twitch. Her black eyes rolled incessantly, but refused to meet
+his. Mr. Sabin frowned.
+
+“You are not glad to see me, Annette!”
+
+She leaned over the counter.
+
+“For monsieur’s own sake,” she whispered, “go!”
+
+Mr. Sabin stood quite still for a short space of time.
+
+“Can I rest in there for a few minutes?” he asked, pointing to the door
+which led into the room beyond.
+
+The woman hesitated. She looked up at the clock and down again.
+
+“Emil will return,” she said, “at three. Monsieur were best out of the
+neighbourhood before then. For ten minutes it might be safe.”
+
+Mr. Sabin passed forward. The woman lifted the flap of the counter
+and followed him. Within was a smaller room, far cleaner and better
+appointed than the general appearance of the place promised. Mr. Sabin
+seated himself at one of the small tables. The linen cloth, he noticed,
+was spotless, the cutlery and appointments polished and clean.
+
+“This, I presume,” he remarked, “is not where you serve the eightpenny
+table d’hote?”
+
+The woman shrugged her shoulders.
+
+“But it would not be possible,” she answered. “We have no customers for
+that. If one arrives we put together a few scraps. But one must make a
+pretense. Monsieur understands?”
+
+Mr. Sabin nodded.
+
+“I will take,” he said, “a small glass of fin champagne.”
+
+She vanished, and reappeared almost immediately with the brandy in a
+quaintly cut liqueur glass. A glance at the clock as she passed seemed
+to have increased her anxiety.
+
+“If monsieur will drink his liqueur and depart,” she prayed. “Indeed, it
+will be for the best.”
+
+Mr. Sabin set down his glass. His steadfast gaze seemed to reduce
+Annette into a state of nervous panic.
+
+“Annette,” he said, “they have placed me upon the list.”
+
+“It is true, monsieur,” she answered. “Why do you come here?”
+
+“I wanted to know first for certain that they had ventured so far,” Mr.
+Sabin said. “I believe that I am only the second person in this country
+who has been so much honoured.”
+
+The woman drew nearer to him.
+
+“Monsieur,” she said, “your only danger is to venture into such parts
+as these. London is so safe, and the law is merciless. They only watch.
+They will attempt nothing. Do not leave England. There is here no
+machinery of criminals. Besides, the life of monsieur is insured.”
+
+“Insured?” Mr. Sabin remarked quietly. “That is good news. And who pays
+the premium?”
+
+“A great lady, monsieur! I know no more. Monsieur must go indeed. He has
+found his way into the only place in London where he is not safe.”
+
+Mr. Sabin rose.
+
+“You are expecting, perhaps,” he said, “one of my friends from the--”
+
+She interrupted him.
+
+“It is true,” she declared. “He may be here at any instant. The time is
+already up. Oh, monsieur, indeed, indeed it would not do for him to find
+you.”
+
+Mr. Sabin moved towards the door.
+
+“You are perhaps right,” he said regretfully, “although I should much
+like to hear about this little matter of life insurance while I am
+here.”
+
+“Indeed, monsieur,” Annette declared, “I know nothing. There is nothing
+which I can tell monsieur.”
+
+Mr. Sabin suddenly leaned forward. His gaze was compelling. His tone was
+low but terrible.
+
+“Annette,” he said, “obey me. Send Emil here.”
+
+The woman trembled, but she did not move. Mr. Sabin lifted his
+forefinger and pointed slowly to the door. The woman’s lips parted, but
+she seemed to have lost the power of speech.
+
+“Send Emil here!” Mr. Sabin repeated slowly.
+
+Annette turned and left the room, groping her way to the door as though
+her eyesight had become uncertain. Mr. Sabin lit a cigarette and looked
+for a moment carefully into the small liqueur glass out of which he had
+drunk.
+
+“That was unwise,” he said softly to himself. “Just such a blunder might
+have cost me everything.”
+
+He held it up to the light and satisfied himself that no dregs remained.
+Then he took from his pocket a tiny little revolver, and placing it
+on the table before him, covered it with his handkerchief. Almost
+immediately a door at the farther end of the room opened and closed.
+A man in dark clothes, small, unnaturally pale, with deep-set eyes and
+nervous, twitching mouth, stood before him. Mr. Sabin smiled a welcome
+at him.
+
+“Good-morning, Emil Sachs,” he said. “I am glad that you have shown
+discretion. Stand there in the light, please, and fold your arms.
+Thanks. Do not think that I am afraid of you, but I like to talk
+comfortably.”
+
+“I am at monsieur’s service,” the man said in a low tone.
+
+“Exactly. Now, Emil, before starting to visit you I left a little note
+behind addressed to the chief of the police here--no, you need not
+start--to be sent to him only if my return were unduly delayed. You can
+guess what that note contained. It is not necessary for us to revert
+to--unpleasant subjects.”
+
+The man moistened his dry lips.
+
+“It is not necessary,” he repeated. “Monsieur is as safe here--from
+me--as at his own hotel.”
+
+“Excellent!” Mr. Sabin said. “Now listen, Emil. It has pleased me
+chiefly, as you know, for the sake of your wife, the good Annette, to be
+very merciful to you as regards the past. But I do not propose to allow
+you to run a poison bureau for the advantage of the Prince of Saxe
+Leinitzer and his friends--more especially, perhaps, as I am at present
+upon his list of superfluous persons.”
+
+The man trembled.
+
+“Monsieur,” he said, “the Prince knows as much as you know, and he has
+not the mercy that one shows to a dog.”
+
+“You will find,” Mr. Sabin said, “that if you do not obey me, I myself
+can develop a similar disposition. Now answer me this! You have within
+the last few days supplied several people with that marvelous powder for
+the preparation of which you are so justly famed.”
+
+“Several--no, monsieur! Two only.”
+
+“Their names?”
+
+The man trembled.
+
+“If they should know!”
+
+“They will not, Emil. I will see to that.”
+
+“The first I supplied to the order of the Prince.”
+
+“Good! And the second?”
+
+“To a lady whose name I do not know.”
+
+Mr. Sabin raised his eyebrows.
+
+“Is not that,” he remarked, “a little irregular?”
+
+“The lady wrote her request before me in the yellow crayon. It was
+sufficient.”
+
+“And you do not know her name, Emil?”
+
+“No, monsieur. She was dark and tall, and closely veiled. She was here
+but a few minutes since.”
+
+“Dark and tall!” Mr. Sabin repeated to himself thoughtfully. “Emil, you
+are telling me the truth?”
+
+“I do not dare to tell you anything else, monsieur,” the man answered.
+
+Mr. Sabin did not continue his interrogations for a few moments.
+Suddenly he looked up.
+
+“Has that lady left the place yet, Emil?”
+
+“No, monsieur!”
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled.
+
+“Have you a back exit?” he asked.
+
+“None that the lady would know of,” Emil answered. “She must pass along
+the passage which borders this apartment, and enter the bar by a door
+from behind. If monsieur desires it, it is impossible for her to leave
+unobserved.”
+
+“That is excellent, Emil,” Mr. Sabin said. “Now there is one more
+question--quite a harmless one. Annette spoke of my life being in some
+way insured.”
+
+“It is true, monsieur,” Emil admitted. “A lady who also possessed
+the yellow crayon came here the day that--that monsieur incurred the
+displeasure of--of his friends. She tried to bribe me to blow up my
+laboratory and leave the country, or that I should substitute a harmless
+powder for any required by the Prince. I was obliged to refuse.”
+
+“And then?”
+
+“Then she promised me a large sum if you were alive in six months, and
+made me at once a payment.
+
+“Dear me,” Mr. Sabin said, “this is quite extraordinary.”
+
+“I can tell monsieur the lady’s name,” Emil continued, “for she raised
+her veil, and everywhere the illustrated papers have been full of her
+picture. It was the lady who was besieged in a little town of South
+Africa, and who carried despatches for the general, disguised as a man.”
+
+“Lady Carey!” Mr. Sabin remarked quietly.
+
+“That was the lady’s name,” Emil agreed.
+
+Mr. Sabin was thoughtful for a few moments. Then he looked up.
+
+“Emil Sachs,” he said sternly, “you have given out at least one portion
+of your abominable concoction which is meant to end my days. Whether I
+shall escape it or not remains to be seen. I am forced at the best to
+discharge my servant, and to live the life of a hunted man. Now you have
+done enough mischief in the world. To-morrow morning a messenger will
+place in your hands two hundred pounds. A larger sum will await you at
+Baring’s Bank in New York. You will go there and buy a small restaurant
+in the business quarter. This is your last chance, Emil. I give it to
+you for the sake of Annette.”
+
+“And I accept it, monsieur, with gratitude.”
+
+“For the present--”
+
+Mr. Sabin stopped short. His quick ears had caught the swish of woman’s
+gown passing along the passage outside. Emil too had heard it.
+
+“It is the dark lady,” he whispered, “who purchased from me the other
+powder. See, I open gently this door. Monsieur must both see and hear.”
+
+The door at the end of the passage was opened. A woman stepped out into
+the little bar and made her way towards the door. Here she was met by
+a man entering. Mr. Sabin held up his forefinger to stop the terrified
+exclamation which trembled on Emil’s lips. The woman was Lucille, the
+man the Prince. It was Lucille who was speaking.
+
+“You have followed me, Prince. It is intolerable.”
+
+“Dear Lucille, it is for your own sake. These are not fit parts for you
+to visit alone.”
+
+“It is my own business,” she answered coldly.
+
+The Prince appeared to be in a complaisant mood.
+
+“Come,” he said, “the affair is not worth a quarrel. I ask you no
+questions. Only since we are here I propose that we test the cooking of
+the good Annette. We will lunch together.”
+
+“What, here?” she answered. “Absurd.”
+
+“By no means,” he answered. “As you doubtless know, the exterior of the
+place is entirely misleading. These people are old servants of mine. I
+can answer for the luncheon.”
+
+“You can also eat it,” came the prompt reply. “I am returning to the
+carriage.”
+
+“But--”
+
+Mr. Sabin emerged through the swing door. “Your discretion, my dear
+Lucille,” he said, smiling, “is excellent. The place is indeed better
+than it seems, and Annette’s cookery may be all that the Prince
+claims. Yet I think I know better places for a luncheon party, and the
+ventilation is not of the best. May I suggest that you come with me
+instead to the Milan?”
+
+“Victor! You here?”
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled as he admitted the obvious fact. The Prince’s face was
+as black as night.
+
+“Believe me,” Mr. Sabin said, turning to the Prince, “I sympathise
+entirely with your feelings at the present moment. I myself have
+suffered in precisely the same manner. The fact is, intrigue in this
+country is almost an impossibility. At Paris, Vienna, Pesth, how
+different! You raise your little finger, and the deed is done.
+Superfluous people--like myself--are removed like the hairs from your
+chin. But here intrigue seems indeed to exist only within the pages of a
+shilling novel, or in a comic opera. The gentleman with a helmet there,
+who regards us so benignly, will presently earn a shilling by calling me
+a hansom. Yet in effect he does me a far greater service. He stands
+for a multitude of cold Anglo-Saxon laws, adamant, incorruptible,
+inflexible--as certain as the laws of Nature herself. I am quite aware
+that by this time I ought to be lying in a dark cellar with a gag in my
+mouth, or perhaps in the river with a dagger in my chest. But here in
+England, no!”
+
+The Prince smiled--to all appearance a very genial smile.
+
+“You are right, my dear friend,” he said, “yet what you say possesses,
+shall we call it, a somewhat antediluvian flavour. Intrigue is no longer
+a clumsy game of knife and string and bowl. It becomes to-day a game of
+finesse. I can assure you that I have no desire to give a stage whistle
+and have you throttled at my feet. On the contrary, I beg you to use my
+carriage, which you will find in the street. You will lunch at the Milan
+with Lucille, and I shall retire discomfited to eat alone at my club.
+But the game is a long one, my dear friend. The new methods take time.”
+
+“This conversation,” Mr. Sabin said to Lucille, “is interesting, but
+it is a little ungallant. I think that we will resume it at some future
+occasion. Shall we accept the Prince’s offer, or shall we be truly
+democratic and take a hansom.”
+
+Lucille passed her arm through his and laughed.
+
+“You are robbing the Prince of me,” she declared. “Let us leave him his
+carriage.”
+
+She nodded her farewells to Saxe Leinitzer, who took leave of them with
+a low bow. As they waited at the corner for a hansom Mr. Sabin glanced
+back. The Prince had disappeared through the swing doors.
+
+“I want you to promise me one thing,” Lucille said earnestly.
+
+“It is promised,” Mr. Sabin answered.
+
+“You will not ask me the reason of my visit to this place?”
+
+“I have no curiosity,” Mr. Sabin answered. “Come!”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII
+
+Mr. Sabin, contrary to his usual custom, engaged a private room at the
+Milan. Lucille was in the highest spirits.
+
+“If only this were a game instead of reality!” she said, flashing
+a brilliant smile at him across the table, “I should find it most
+fascinating. You seem to come to me always when I want you most. And
+do you know, it is perfectly charming to be carried off by you in this
+manner.”
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled at her, and there was a look in his eyes which shone
+there for no other woman.
+
+“It is in effect,” he said, “keeping me young. Events seem to have
+enclosed us in a curious little cobweb. All the time we are struggling
+between the rankest primitivism and the most delicate intrigue. To-day
+is the triumph of primitivism.”
+
+“Meaning that you, the medieval knight, have carried me off, the
+distressed maiden, on your shoulder.”
+
+“Having confounded my enemy,” he continued, smiling, “by an embarrassing
+situation, a little argument, and the distant view of a policeman’s
+helmet.”
+
+“This,” she remarked, with a little satisfied sigh as she selected an
+ortolan, “is a very satisfactory place to be carried off to. And you,”
+ she added, leaning across the table and touching his fingers for a
+moment tenderly, “are a very delightful knight-errant.”
+
+He raised the fingers to his lips--the waiter had left the room. She
+blushed, but yielded her hand readily enough.
+
+“Victor,” she murmured, “you would spoil the most faithless woman on
+earth for all her lovers. You make me very impatient.”
+
+“Impatience, then,” he declared, “must be the most infectious of fevers.
+For I too am a terrible sufferer.”
+
+“If only the Prince,” she said, “would be reasonable.”
+
+“I am afraid,” Mr. Sabin answered, “that from him we have not much to
+hope for.”
+
+“Yet,” she continued, “I have fulfilled all the conditions. Reginald
+Brott remains the enemy of our cause and Order. Yet some say that his
+influence upon the people is lessened. In any case, my work is over.
+He began to mistrust me long ago. To-day I believe that mistrust is the
+only feeling he has in connection with me. I shall demand my release.”
+
+“I am afraid,” Mr. Sabin said, “that Saxe Leinitzer has other reasons
+for keeping you at Dorset House.”
+
+She shrugged her shoulders.
+
+“He has been very persistent even before I left Vienna. But he must know
+that it is hopeless. I have never encouraged him.”
+
+“I am sure of it,” Mr. Sabin said. “It is the incorrigible vanity of
+the man which will not be denied. He has been taught to believe himself
+irresistible. I have never doubted you for a single moment, Lucille. I
+could not. But you have been the slave of these people long enough.
+As you say, your task is over. Its failure was always certain. Brott
+believes in his destiny, and it will be no slight thing which will keep
+him from following it. They must give you back to me.”
+
+“We will go back to America,” she said. “I have never been so happy as
+at Lenox.”
+
+“Nor I,” Mr. Sahin said softly.
+
+“Besides,” she continued, “the times have changed since I joined the
+Society. In Hungary you know how things were. The Socialists were
+carrying all before them, a united solid body. The aristocracy were
+forced to enter into some sort of combination against them. We saved
+Austria, I am not sure that we did not save Russia. But England is
+different. The aristocracy here are a strong resident class. They have
+their House of Lords, they own the land, and will own it for many years
+to come, their position is unassailable. It is the worst country in
+Europe for us to work in. The very climate and the dispositions of the
+people are inimical to intrigue. It is Muriel Carey who brought the
+Society here. It was a mistake. The country is in no need of it. There
+is no scope for it.”
+
+“If only one could get beyond Saxe Leinitzer,” Mr. Sabin said.
+
+She shook her head.
+
+“Behind him,” she said, “there is only the one to whom all reference is
+forbidden. And there is no man in the world who would be less likely to
+listen to an appeal from you--or from me.”
+
+“After all,” Mr. Sabin said, “though Saxe Leinitzer is our enemy, I
+am not sure that he can do us any harm. If he declines to release
+you--well, when the twelve months are up you are free whether he wishes
+it or not. He has put me outside the pale. But this is not, or never
+was, a vindictive Society. They do not deal in assassinations. In this
+country at least anything of the sort is rarely attempted. If I were
+a young man with my life to live in the capitals of Europe I should be
+more or less a social outcast, I suppose. But I am proof against that
+sort of thing.”
+
+Lucille looked a little doubtful.
+
+“The Prince,” she said, “is an intriguer of the old school. I know that
+in Vienna he has more than once made use of more violent means than he
+would dare to do here. And there is an underneath machinery very seldom
+used, I believe, and of which none of us who are ordinary members know
+anything at all, which gives him terrible powers.”
+
+Mr. Sabin nodded grimly.
+
+“It was worked against me in America,” he said, “but I got the best of
+it. Here in England I do not believe that he would dare to use it. If
+so, I think that before now it would have been aimed at Brott. I have
+just read his Glasgow speech. If he becomes Premier it will lead to
+something like a revolution.”
+
+She sighed.
+
+“Brott is a clever man, and a strong man,” she said. “I am sorry for
+him, but I do not believe that he will never become Prime Minister of
+England.”
+
+Mr. Sabin sipped his wine thoughtfully.
+
+“I believe,” he said, “that intrigue is the resource of those who have
+lived their lives so quickly that they have found weariness. For these
+things to-day interest me very little. I am only anxious to have you
+back again, Lucille, to find ourselves on our way to our old home.”
+
+She laughed softly.
+
+“And I used to think,” she said, “that after all I could only keep you a
+little time--that presently the voices from the outside world would come
+whispering in your ears, and you would steal back again to where the
+wheels of life were turning.”
+
+“A man,” he answered, “is not easily whispered out of Paradise.”
+
+She laughed at him.
+
+“Ah, it is so easy,” she said, “to know that your youth was spent at a
+court.”
+
+“There is only one court,” he answered, “where men learn to speak the
+truth.”
+
+She leaned back in her chair.
+
+“Oh, you are incorrigible,” she said softly. “The one role in life in
+which I fancied you ill at ease you seem to fill to perfection.”
+
+“And that?”
+
+“You are an adorable husband!”
+
+“I should like,” he said, “a better opportunity to prove it!”
+
+“Let us hope,” she murmured, “that our separation is nearly over. I
+shall appeal to the Prince to-night. My remaining at Dorset House is no
+longer necessary.”
+
+“I shall come,” he said, “and demand you in person.”
+
+She shook her head.
+
+“No! They would not let you in, and it would make it more difficult. Be
+patient a little longer.”
+
+He came and sat by her side. She leaned over to meet his embrace.
+
+“You make patience,” he murmured, “a torture!”
+
+      *           *           *           *           *
+
+Mr. Sabin walked home to his rooms late in the afternoon, well content
+on the whole with his day. He was in no manner prepared for the shock
+which greeted him on entering his sitting-room. Duson was leaning back
+in his most comfortable easy-chair.
+
+“Duson!” Mr. Sabin said sharply. “What does this mean?”
+
+There was no answer. Mr. Sabin moved quickly forward, and then stopped
+short. He had seen dead men, and he knew the signs. Duson was stone
+dead.
+
+Mr. Sabin’s nerve answered to this demand upon it. He checked his first
+impulse to ring the bell, and looked carefully on the table for some
+note or message from the dead man. He found it almost at once--a large
+envelope in Duson’s handwriting. Mr. Sabin hastily broke the seal and
+read:
+
+  “Monsieur,--I kill myself because it is easiest and best.  The
+  poison was given me for you, but I have not the courage to become
+  a murderer, or afterwards to conceal my guilt.  Monsieur has been
+  a good master to me, and also Madame la Comtesse was always
+  indulgent and kind.  The mistake of my life has been the joining
+  the lower order of the Society.  The money which I have received
+  has been but a poor return for the anxiety and trouble which have
+  come upon me since Madame la Comtesse left America.  Now that I
+  seek shelter in the grave I am free to warn Monsieur that the
+  Prince of S. L. is his determined and merciless enemy, and that
+  he has already made an unlawful use of his position in the Society
+  for the sake of private vengeance.  If monsieur would make a
+  powerful friend he should seek the Lady Muriel Carey.
+
+  “Monsieur will be so good as to destroy this when read.  My will
+  is in my trunk.
+                                 “Your Grace’s faithful servant,
+                                         “Jules Duson.”
+
+Mr. Sabin read this letter carefully through to the end. Then he put it
+into his pocket-book and quickly rang the bell.
+
+“You had better send for a doctor at once,” he said to the waiter who
+appeared. “My servant appears to have suffered from some sudden illness.
+I am afraid that he is quite dead.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX
+
+“You spoke, my dear Lucille,” the Duchess of Dorset said, “of your
+departure. Is not that a little premature?”
+
+Lucille shrugged her beautiful shoulders, and leaned back in her
+corner of the couch with half-closed eyes. The Duchess, who was very
+Anglo-Saxon, was an easy person to read, and Lucille was anxious to know
+her fate.
+
+“Why premature?” she asked. “I was sent for to use my influence with
+Reginald Brott. Well, I did my best, and I believe that for days it
+was just a chance whether I did not succeed. However, as it happened,
+I failed. One of his friends came and pulled him away just as he was
+wavering. He has declared himself now once and for all. After his speech
+at Glasgow he cannot draw back. I was brought all the way from America,
+and I want to go back to my husband.”
+
+The Duchess pursed her lips.
+
+“When one has the honour, my dear,” she said, “of belonging to so
+wonderful an organisation as this we must not consider too closely the
+selfish claims of family. I am sure that years ago I should have laughed
+at any one who had told me that I, Georgina Croxton, should ever belong
+to such a thing as a secret society, even though it had some connection
+with so harmless and excellent an organisation as the Primrose League.”
+
+“It does seem remarkable,” Lucille murmured.
+
+“But look what terrible times have come upon us,” the Duchess continued,
+without heeding the interruption. “When I was a girl a Radical was a
+person absolutely without consideration. Now all our great cities are
+hot-beds of Socialism and--and anarchism. The whole country seems banded
+together against the aristocracy and the landowners. Combination amongst
+us became absolutely necessary in some shape or form. When the Prince
+came and began to drop hints about the way the spread of Socialism had
+been checked in Hungary and Austria, and even Germany, I was interested
+from the first. And when he went further, and spoke of the Society, it
+was I who persuaded Dorset to join. Dear man, he is very earnest, but
+very slow, and very averse to anything at all secretive. I am sure the
+reflection that he is a member of a secret society, even although it
+is simply a linking together of the aristocracy of Europe in their own
+defence, has kept him awake for many a night.”
+
+Lucille was a little bored.
+
+“The Society,” she said, “is an admirable one enough, but just now I am
+beginning to feel it a little exacting. I think that the Prince expects
+a good deal of one. I shall certainly ask for my release to-night.”
+
+The Duchess looked doubtful.
+
+“Release!” she repeated. “Come, is that not rather an exaggerated
+expression? I trust that your stay at Dorset House has not in any way
+suggested an imprisonment.”
+
+“On the contrary,” Lucille answered; “you and the Duke have been most
+kind. But you must remember that I have home of my own--and a husband of
+my own.”
+
+“I have no doubt,” the Duchess said, “that you will be able to return
+to them some day. But you must not be impatient. I do not think that the
+Prince has given up all hopes of Reginald Brott yet.”
+
+Lucille was silent. So her emancipation was to be postponed. After all,
+it was what she had feared. She sat watching idly the Duchess’s knitting
+needles. Lady Carey came sweeping in, wonderful in a black velvet gown
+and a display of jewels almost barbaric.
+
+“On my way to the opera,” she announced. “The Maddersons sent me their
+box. Will any of you good people come? What do you say, Lucille?”
+
+Lucille shook her head.
+
+“My toilette is deficient,” she said; “and besides, I am staying at home
+to see the Prince. We expect him this evening.”
+
+“You’ll probably be disappointed then,” Lady Carey remarked, “for he’s
+going to join us at the opera. Run and change your gown. I’ll wait.”
+
+“Are you sure that the Prince will be there?” Lucille asked.
+
+“Certain.”
+
+“Then I will come,” she said, “if the Duchess will excuse me.”
+
+The Duchess and Lady Carey were left alone for a few minutes. The former
+put down her knitting.
+
+“Why do we keep that woman here,” she asked, “now that Brott has broken
+away from her altogether?”
+
+Lady Carey laughed meaningly.
+
+“Better ask the Prince,” she remarked.
+
+The Duchess frowned.
+
+“My dear Muriel,” she said, “I think that you are wrong to make such
+insinuations. I am sure that the Prince is too much devoted to our cause
+to allow any personal considerations to intervene.”
+
+Lady Carey yawned.
+
+“Rats!” she exclaimed.
+
+The Duchess took up her knitting, and went on with it without remark.
+Lady Carey burst out laughing.
+
+“Don’t look so shocked,” she exclaimed. “It’s funny. I can’t help being
+a bit slangy. You do take everything so seriously. Of course you can see
+that the Prince is waiting to make a fool of himself over Lucille. He
+has been trying more or less all his life.”
+
+“He may admire her,” the Duchess said. “I am sure that he would not
+allow that to influence him in his present position. By the bye, she is
+anxious to leave us now that the Brott affair is over. Do you think that
+the Prince will agree?”
+
+Lady Carey’s face hardened.
+
+“I am sure that he will not,” she said coolly. “There are reasons why
+she may not at present be allowed to rejoin her husband.”
+
+The Duchess used her needles briskly.
+
+“For my part,” she said, “I can see no object in keeping her here any
+longer. Mr. Brott has shown himself quite capable of keeping her at
+arm’s length. I cannot see what further use she is.”
+
+Lady Carey heard the flutter of skirts outside and rose.
+
+“There are wheels within wheels,” she remarked. “My dear Lucille, what
+a charming toilette. We shall have the lady journalists besieging us
+in our box. Paquin, of course. Good-night, Duchess. Glad to see you’re
+getting on with the socks, or stockings, do you call them?”
+
+Insolent aristocratic, now and then attractive in some strange
+suggestive way, Lady Carey sat in front of the box and exchanged
+greetings with her friends. Presently the Prince came in and took the
+chair between the two women. Lady Carey greeted him with a nod.
+
+“Here’s Lucille dying to return to her lawful husband,” she remarked.
+“Odd thing, isn’t it? Most of the married women I ever knew are dying
+to get away from theirs. You can make her happy or miserable in a few
+moments.”
+
+The Prince leaned over between them, but he looked only at Lucille.
+
+“I wish that I could,” he murmured. “I wish that that were within my
+power.”
+
+“It is,” she answered coolly. “Muriel is quite right. I am most anxious
+to return to my husband.”
+
+The Prince said nothing. Lady Carey, glancing towards him at that
+moment, was surprised at certain signs of disquietude in his face which
+startled her.
+
+“What is the matter with you?” she asked almost roughly.
+
+“Matter with me? Nothing,” he answered. “Why this unaccustomed
+solicitude?”
+
+Lady Carey looked into his face fiercely. He was pale, and there was
+a strained look about his eyes. He seemed, too, to be listening. From
+outside in the street came faintly to their ears the cry of a newsboy.
+
+“Get me an evening paper,” she whispered in his ear.
+
+He got up and left the box. Lucille was watching the people below and
+had not appreciated the significance of what had been passing between
+the two. Lady Carey leaned back in the box with half-closed eyes. Her
+fingers were clenched nervously together, her bosom was rising and
+falling quickly. If he had dared to defy her! What was it the newsboys
+were calling? What a jargon! Why did not Saxe Leinitzer return?
+Perhaps he was afraid! Her heart stood still for a moment, and a little
+half-stifled cry broke from her lips. Lucille looked around quickly.
+
+“What is the matter, Muriel?” she asked. “Are you faint?”
+
+“Faint, no,” Lady Carey answered roughly. “I’m quite well. Don’t take
+any notice of me. Do you hear? Don’t look at me.”
+
+Lucille obeyed. Lady Carey sat quite still with her hand pressed to her
+side. It was a stifling pain. She was sure that she had heard at
+last. “Sudden death of a visitor at the Carlton Hotel.” The place was
+beginning to go round.
+
+Saxe Leinitzer returned. His face to her seemed positively ghastly. He
+carried an evening paper in his hand. She snatched it away from him. It
+was there before her in bold, black letters:
+
+“Sudden death in the Carlton Hotel.”
+
+Her eyes, dim a moment ago, suddenly blazed fire upon him.
+
+“It shall be a life for a life,” she whispered. “If you have killed him
+you shall die.”
+
+Lucille looked at them bewildered. And just then came a sharp tap at the
+box door. No one answered it, but the door was softly opened. Mr. Sabin
+stood upon the threshold.
+
+“Pray, don’t let me disturb you,” he said. “I was unable to refrain from
+paying you a brief visit. Why, Prince, Lady Carey! I can assure you that
+I am no ghost.”
+
+He glanced from one to the other with a delicate smile of mockery
+parting his thin lips. For upon the Prince’s forehead the perspiration
+stood out like beads, and he shrank away from Mr. Sabin as from some
+unholy thing. Lady Carey had fallen back across her chair. Her hand was
+still pressed to her side, and her face was very pale. A nervous little
+laugh broke from her lips.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX
+
+Mr. Sabin found a fourth chair, and calmly seated himself by Lucille’s
+side. But his eyes were fixed upon Lady Carey. She was slowly recovering
+herself, but Mr. Sabin, who had never properly understood her attitude
+towards him, was puzzled at the air of intense relief which almost shone
+in her face.
+
+“You seem--all of you,” he remarked suavely, “to have found the music
+a little exciting. Wagner certainly knew how to find his way to the
+emotions. Or perhaps I interrupted an interesting discussion?”
+
+Lucille smiled gently upon him.
+
+“These two,” she said, looking from the Prince to Lady Carey, “seem to
+have been afflicted with a sudden nervous excitement, and yet I do not
+think that they are, either of them, very susceptible to music.”
+
+Lady Carey leaned forward, and looked at him from behind the large fan
+of white feathers which she was lazily fluttering before her face.
+
+“Your entrance,” she murmured, “was most opportune, besides being very
+welcome. The Prince and I were literally--on the point of flying at one
+another’s throats.”
+
+Mr. Sabin glanced at his neighbour and smiled.
+
+“You are certainly a little out of sorts, Saxe Leinitzer,” he remarked.
+“You look pale, and your hands are not quite steady. Nerves, I suppose.
+You should see Dr. Carson in Brook Street.”
+
+The Prince shrugged his shoulders.
+
+“My health,” he said, “was never better. It is true that your coming
+was somewhat of a surprise,” he added, looking steadily at Mr. Sabin.
+“I understood that you had gone for a short journey, and I was not
+expecting to see you back again so soon.”
+
+“Duson,” Mr. Sabin said, “has taken that short journey instead. It
+was rather a liberty, but he left a letter for me fully explaining his
+motives. I cannot blame him.”
+
+The Prince stroked his moustache.
+
+“Ah!” he remarked. “That is a pity. You may, however, find it politic,
+even necessary, to join him very shortly.”
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled grimly.
+
+“I shall go when I am ready,” he said, “not before!”
+
+Lucille looked from one to the other with protesting eyebrows.
+
+“Come,” she said, “it is very impolite of you to talk in riddles before
+my face. I have been flattering myself, Victor, that you were here to
+see me. Do not wound my vanity.”
+
+He whispered something in her ear, and she laughed softly back at him.
+The Prince, with the evening paper in his hand, escaped from the box,
+and found a retired spot where he could read the little paragraph at his
+leisure. Lady Carey pretended to be absorbed by the music.
+
+“Has anything happened, Victor?” Lucille whispered.
+
+He hesitated.
+
+“Well, in a sense, yes,” he admitted. “I appear to have become unpopular
+with our friend, the Prince. Duson, who has always been a spy upon my
+movements, was entrusted with a little sleeping draught for me, which he
+preferred to take himself. That is all.”
+
+“Duson is--”
+
+He nodded.
+
+“He is dead!”
+
+Lucille went very pale.
+
+“This is horrible!” she murmured
+
+“The Prince is a little annoyed, naturally,” Mr. Sabin said. “It is
+vexing to have your plans upset in such a manner.”
+
+She shuddered.
+
+“He is hateful! Victor, I fear that he does not mean to let me leave
+Dorset House just yet. I am almost inclined to become, like you, an
+outcast. Who knows--we might go free. Bloodshed is always avoided as
+much as possible, and I do not see how else they could strike at me.
+Social ostracism is their chief weapon. But in America that could not
+hurt us.”
+
+He shook his head.
+
+“Not yet,” he said. “I am sure that Saxe Leinitzer is not playing the
+game. But he is too well served here to make defiance wise.”
+
+“You run the risk yourself,” she protested.
+
+He smiled.
+
+“It is a different matter. By the bye, we are overheard.”
+
+Lady Carey had forgotten to listen any more to the music. She was
+watching them both, a steely light in her eyes, her fingers nervously
+entwined. The Prince was still absent.
+
+“Pray do not consider me,” she begged. “So far as I am concerned, your
+conversation is of no possible interest. But I think you had better
+remember that the Prince is in the corridor just outside.”
+
+“We are much obliged to you,” Mr. Sabin said. “The Prince may hear every
+word I have to say about him. But all the same, I thank you for your
+warning.”
+
+“I fear that we are very unsociable, Muriel,” Lucille said, “and, after
+all, I should never have been here but for you.”
+
+Lady Carey turned her left shoulder upon them.
+
+“I beg,” she said, “that you will leave me alone with the music. I
+prefer it.”
+
+The Prince suddenly stood upon the threshold. His hand rested lightly
+upon the arm of another man.
+
+“Come in, Brott,” he said. “The women will be charmed to see you. And I
+don’t suppose they’ve read your speeches. Countess, here is the man who
+counts all equal under the sun, who decries class, and recognises no
+social distinctions. Brott was born to lead a revolution. He is our
+natural enemy. Let us all try to convert him.”
+
+Brott was pale, and deep new lines were furrowed on his face.
+Nevertheless he smiled faintly as he bowed over Lucille’s fingers.
+
+“My introduction,” he remarked, “is scarcely reassuring. Yet here at
+least, if anywhere in the world, we should all meet upon equal ground.
+Music is a universal leveler.”
+
+“And we haven’t a chance,” Lady Carey remarked with uplifted eyebrows,
+“of listening to a bar of it.”
+
+Lucille welcomed the newcomer coldly. Nevertheless, he manoeuvred
+himself into the place by her side. She took up her fan and commenced
+swinging it thoughtfully.
+
+“You are surprised to see me here?” he murmured.
+
+“Yes!” she admitted.
+
+He looked wearily away from the stage up into her face.
+
+“And I too,” he said. “I am surprised to find myself here!”
+
+“I pictured you,” she remarked, “as immersed in affairs. Did I not hear
+something of a Radical ministry with you for Premier?”
+
+“It has been spoken of,” he admitted.
+
+“Then I really cannot see,” she said, “what you are doing here.”
+
+“Why not?” he asked doggedly.
+
+She shrugged her shoulders.
+
+“In the first place,” she said, “you ought to be rushing about amongst
+your supporters, keeping them up to the mark, and all that sort of
+thing. And in the second--”
+
+“Well?”
+
+“Are we not the very people against whom you have declared war?”
+
+“I have declared war against no people,” he answered. “It is systems and
+classes, abuses, injustice against which I have been forced to speak.
+I would not deprive your Order of a single privilege to which they are
+justly entitled. But you must remember that I am a people’s man. Their
+cause is mine. They look to me as their mouthpiece.”
+
+Lucille shrugged her shoulders.
+
+“You cannot evade the point,” she said. “If you are the, what do you
+call it, the mouthpiece of the people, I do not see how you can be
+anything else than the enemy of the aristocracy.”
+
+“The aristocracy? Who are they?” he asked. “I am the enemy of all those
+who, because they possess an ancient name and inherited wealth, consider
+themselves the God-appointed bullies of the poor, dealing them out
+meagre charities, lordly patronage, an unspoken but bitter contempt. But
+the aristocracy of the earth are not of such as these. Your class are
+furnishing the world with advanced thinkers every year, every month!
+Inherited prejudices can never survive the next few generations. The
+fusion of classes must come.”
+
+She shook her head.
+
+“You are sanguine, my friend,” she said. “Many generations have come and
+gone since the wonderful pages of history were opened to us. And during
+all these years how much nearer have the serf and the aristocrat come
+together? Nay, have they not rather drifted apart?... But listen! This
+is the great chorus. We must not miss it.”
+
+“So the Prince has brought back the wanderer,” Lady Carey whispered to
+Mr. Sabin behind her fan. “Hasn’t he rather the air of a sheep who has
+strayed from the fold?”
+
+Mr. Sabin raised the horn eyeglass, which he so seldom used, and
+contemplated Brott steadily.
+
+“He reminds me more than ever,” he remarked, “of Rienzi. He is like a
+man torn asunder by great causes. They say that his speech at Glasgow
+was the triumph of a born orator.”
+
+Lady Carey shrugged her shoulders.
+
+“It was practically the preaching a revolution to the people,” she said.
+“A few more such, and we might have the red flag waving. He left Glasgow
+in a ferment. If he really comes into power, what are we to expect?”
+
+“To the onlookers,” Mr. Sabin remarked, “a revolution in this country
+would possess many interesting features. The common people lack the
+ferocity of our own rabble, but they are even more determined. I may yet
+live to see an English Duke earning an honest living in the States.”
+
+“It depends very much upon Brott,” Lady Carey said. “For his own sake it
+is a pity that he is in love with Lucille.”
+
+Mr. Sabin agreed with her blandly.
+
+“It is,” he affirmed, “a most regrettable incident.”
+
+She leaned a little towards him. The box was not a large one, and their
+chairs already touched.
+
+“Are you a jealous husband?” she asked.
+
+“Horribly,” he answered.
+
+“Your devotion to Lucille, or rather the singleness of your devotion to
+Lucille,” she remarked, “is positively the most gauche thing about you.
+It is--absolutely callow!”
+
+He laughed gently.
+
+“Did I not always tell you,” he said, “that when I did marry I should
+make an excellent husband?”
+
+“You are at least,” she answered sharply, “a very complaisant one.”
+
+The Prince leaned forward from the shadows of the box.
+
+“I invite you all,” he said, “to supper with me. It is something of an
+occasion, this! For I do not think that we shall all meet again just as
+we are now for a very long time.”
+
+“Your invitation,” Mr. Sabin remarked, “is most agreeable. But your
+suggestion is, to say the least of it, nebulous. I do not see what is to
+prevent your all having supper with me to-morrow evening.”
+
+Lady Carey laughed as she rose, and stretched out her hand for her
+cloak.
+
+“To-morrow evening,” she said, “is a long way off. Let us make sure of
+to-night--before the Prince changes his mind.”
+
+Mr. Sabin bowed low.
+
+“To-night by all means,” he declared. “But my invitation remains--a
+challenge!”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI
+
+The Prince, being host, arranged the places at his supper-table. Mr.
+Sabin found himself, therefore, between Lady Carey and a young German
+attache, whom they had met in the ante-room of the restaurant. Lucille
+had the Prince and Mr. Brott on either side of her.
+
+Lady Carey monopolised at first the greater part of the conversation.
+Mr. Sabin was unusually silent. The German attache, whose name was Baron
+von Opperman, did not speak until the champagne was served, when he
+threw a bombshell into the midst of the little party.
+
+“I hear,” he said, with a broad and seraphic smile, “that in this hotel
+there has to-day a murder been committed.”
+
+Baron von Opperman was suddenly the cynosure of several pairs of eyes.
+He was delighted with the success of his attempt towards the general
+entertainment.
+
+“The evening papers,” he continued, “they have in them news of a sudden
+death. But in the hotel here now they are speaking of something--what
+you call more--mysterious. There has been ordered an examination
+post-mortem!”
+
+“It is a case of poisoning then, I presume?” the Prince asked, leaning
+forward.
+
+“It is so supposed,” the attache answered. “It seems that the doctors
+could find no trace of disease, nothing to have caused death. They
+were not able to decide anything. The man, they said, was in perfect
+health--but dead.”
+
+“It must have been, then,” the Prince remarked, “a very wonderful
+poison.”
+
+“Without doubt,” Baron Opperman answered.
+
+The Prince sighed gently.
+
+“There are many such,” he murmured. “Indeed the science of toxicology
+was never so ill-understood as now. I am assured that there are many
+poisons known only to a few chemists in the world, a single grain of
+which is sufficient to destroy the strongest man and leave not the
+slightest trace behind. If the poisoner be sufficiently accomplished he
+can pursue his--calling without the faintest risk of detection.”
+
+Mr. Sabin sipped his wine thoughtfully.
+
+“The Prince is, I believe, right,” he remarked. “It is for that reason,
+doubtless, that I have heard of men whose lives have been threatened,
+who have deposited in safe places a sealed statement of the danger in
+which they find themselves, with an account of its source, so that if
+they should come to an end in any way mysterious there may be evidence
+against their murderers.”
+
+“A very reasonable and judicious precaution,” the Prince remarked with
+glittering eyes. “Only if the poison was indeed of such a nature that it
+was not possible to trace it nothing worse than suspicion could ever be
+the lot of any one.”
+
+Mr. Sabin helped himself carefully to salad, and resumed the discussion
+with his next course.
+
+“Perhaps not,” he admitted. “But you must remember that suspicion is of
+itself a grievous embarrassment. No man likes to feel that he is being
+suspected of murder. By the bye, is it known whom the unfortunate person
+was?”
+
+“The servant of a French nobleman who is staying in the hotel,” Mr.
+Brott remarked. “I heard as much as that.”
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled. Lady Carey glanced at him meaningly.
+
+“You have worried the Prince quite sufficiently,” she whispered. “Change
+the subject.”
+
+Mr. Sabin bowed.
+
+“You are very considerate--to the Prince,” he said.
+
+“It is perhaps for your sake,” she answered. “And as for the
+Prince--well, you know, or you should know, for how much he counts with
+me.”
+
+Mr. Sabin glanced at her curiously. She was a little flushed as though
+with some inward excitement. Her eyes were bright and soft. Despite a
+certain angularity of figure and her hollow cheeks she was certainly one
+of the most distinguished-looking women in the room.
+
+“You are so dense,” she whispered in his ear, “wilfully dense, perhaps.
+You will not understand that I wish to be your friend.”
+
+He smiled with gentle deprecation.
+
+“Do you blame me,” he murmured, “if I seem incredulous? For I am an old
+man, and you are spoken of always as the friend of my enemy, the friend
+of the Prince.”
+
+“I wonder,” she said thoughtfully, “if this is really the secret of your
+mistrust? Do you indeed fear that I have no other interest in life save
+to serve Saxe Leinitzer?”
+
+“As to that,” he answered, “I cannot say. Yet I know that only a few
+months ago you were acting under orders from him. It is you who brought
+Lucille from America. It was through you that the first blow was struck
+at my happiness.”
+
+“Cannot I atone?” she murmured under her breath. “If I can I will.
+And as for the present, well, I am outside his schemes now. Let us be
+friends. You would find me a very valuable ally.”
+
+“Let it be so,” he answered without emotion. “You shall help me, if you
+will, to regain Lucille. I promise you then that my gratitude shall not
+disappoint you.”
+
+She bit her lip.
+
+“And are you sure,” she whispered, “that Lucille is anxious to be won
+back? She loves intrigue, excitement, the sense of being concerned
+in important doings. Besides--you must have heard what they say about
+her--and Brott. Look at her now. She wears her grass widowhood lightly
+enough.”
+
+Mr. Sabin looked across the table. Lucille had indeed all the appearance
+of a woman thoroughly at peace with the world and herself. Brott was
+talking to her in smothered and eager undertones. The Prince was waiting
+for an opportunity to intervene. Mr. Sabin looked into Brott’s white
+strong face, and was thoughtful.
+
+“It is a great power--the power of my sex,” Lady Carey continued, with
+a faint, subtle smile. “A word from Lucille, and the history book of the
+future must be differently written.”
+
+“She will not speak that word,” Mr. Sabin said. Lady Carey shrugged
+her shoulders. The subtlety of her smile faded away. Her whole face
+expressed a contemptuous and self-assured cynicism.
+
+“You know her very well,” she murmured. “Yet she and I are no strangers.
+She is one who loves to taste--no, to drink--deeply of all the
+experiences of life. Why should we blame her, you and I? Have we not the
+same desire?”
+
+Mr. Sabin lit a cigarette.
+
+“Once, perhaps,” he remarked. “You must not forget that I am no longer a
+young man.”
+
+She leaned towards him.
+
+“You will die young,” she murmured. “You are not of the breed of men who
+grow old.”
+
+“Do you mean to turn my head?” he asked her, with a humorous smile.
+
+“It would be easier,” she answered, “than to touch your heart.”
+
+Then Lucille looked across at them--and Mr. Sabin suddenly remembered
+that Reginald Brott knew them both only as strangers.
+
+“Muriel,” she said, “you are behaving disgracefully.”
+
+“I am doing my best,” Lady Carey answered, “to keep you in countenance.”
+
+The eyes of the two women met for a moment, and though the smiles
+lingered still upon their faces Lady Carey at any rate was not able to
+wholly conceal her hatred. Lucille shrugged her shoulders.
+
+“I am doing my best,” she said, “to convert Mr. Brott.”
+
+“To what?” Lady Carey asked.
+
+“To a sane point of view concerning the holiness of the aristocracy,”
+ Lucille answered. “I am afraid though that I have made very little
+impression. In his heart I believe Mr. Brott would like to see us all
+working for our living, school-teachers and dressmakers, and that sort
+of thing, you know.”
+
+Mr. Brott protested.
+
+“I am not even,” he declared, “moderately advanced in my views as
+regards matters of your sex. To tell you the truth, I do not like women
+to work at all outside their homes.”
+
+Lady Carey laughed.
+
+“My dear,” she said to Lucille, “you and I may as well retire in
+despair. Can’t you see the sort of woman Mr. Brott admires? She isn’t
+like us a bit. She is probably a healthy, ruddy-cheeked young person who
+lives in the country, gets up to breakfast to pour out the coffee for
+some sort of a male relative, goes round the garden snipping off roses
+in big gloves and a huge basket, interviews the cook, orders the dinner,
+makes fancy waistcoats for her husband, and failing a sewing maid, does
+the mending for the family. You and I, Lucille, are not like that.”
+
+“Well, you have mentioned nothing which I couldn’t do, if it seemed
+worth while,” Lucille objected. “It sounds very primitive and
+delightful. I am sure we are all too luxurious and too lazy. I think we
+ought to turn over a new leaf.”
+
+“For you, dear Lucille,” Lady Carey said with suave and deadly satire,
+“what improvement is possible? You have all that you could desire. It
+is much less fortunate persons, such as myself, to whom Utopia must seem
+such a delightful place.”
+
+A frock-coated and altogether immaculate young man approached their
+table and accosted Mr. Sabin.
+
+“I beg your pardon, sir,” he said, “but the manager would be much
+obliged if you would spare him a moment or two in his private room as
+soon as possible.”
+
+Mr. Sabin nodded.
+
+“In a few minutes,” he answered.
+
+The little party broke up almost immediately. Coffee was ordered in the
+palm court, where the band was playing. Mr. Sabin and the Prince fell a
+little behind the others on the way out of the room.
+
+“You heard my summons?” Mr. Sabin asked.
+
+“Yes!”
+
+“I am going to be cross-examined as regards Duson. I am no longer a
+member of the Order. What is to prevent my setting them upon the right
+track?”
+
+“The fact,” the Prince said coolly, “that you are hoping one day to
+recover Lucille.”
+
+“I doubt,” Mr. Sabin said, “whether you are strong enough to keep her
+from me.”
+
+The Prince smiled. All his white teeth were showing.
+
+“Come,” he said, “you know better than--much better than that. Lucille
+must wait her release. You know that.”
+
+“I will buy it,” Mr. Sabin said, “with a lie to the manager here, or I
+will tell the truth and still take her from you.”
+
+The Prince stood upon the topmost step of the balcony. Below was the
+palm court, with many little groups of people dotted about.
+
+“My dear friend,” he said, “Duson died absolutely of his own free will.
+You know that quite well. We should have preferred that the matter had
+been otherwise arranged. But as it is we are safe, absolutely safe.”
+
+“Duson’s letter!” Mr. Sabin remarked.
+
+“You will not show it,” the Prince answered. “You cannot. You have kept
+it too long. And, after all, you cannot escape from the main fact. Duson
+committed suicide.”
+
+“He was incited to murder. His letter proves it.”
+
+The Prince shrugged his shoulders.
+
+“By whom? Ah, how your story would excite ridicule. I seem to hear the
+laughter now. No, my dear Souspennier, you would bargain for me with
+Lucille. Look below. Are we likely to part with her just yet?”
+
+In a corner, behind a gigantic palm, Lucille and Brott were talking
+together. Lady Carey had drawn Opperman a little distance away. Brott
+was talking eagerly, his cheeks flushed, his manner earnest. Mr. Sabin
+turned upon his heel and walked away.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII
+
+Mr. Sabin, although he had registered at the hotel under his accustomed
+pseudonym, had taken no pains to conceal his identity, and was well
+known to the people in authority about the place. He was received with
+all the respect due to his rank.
+
+“Your Grace will, I trust, accept my most sincere apologies for
+disturbing you,” Mr. Hertz, the manager, said, rising and bowing at his
+entrance. “We have here, however, an emissary connected with the police
+come to inquire into the sad incident of this afternoon. He expressed a
+wish to ask your Grace a question or two with a view to rendering your
+Grace’s attendance at the inquest unnecessary.”
+
+Mr. Sabin nodded.
+
+“I am perfectly willing,” he said, “to answer any questions you may
+choose to put to me.”
+
+A plain, hard-featured little man, in a long black overcoat, and holding
+a bowler hat in his hand, bowed respectfully to Mr. Sabin.
+
+“I am much obliged to you, sir,” he said. “My name is John Passmore.
+We do not of course appear in this matter unless the post-mortem should
+indicate anything unusual in the circumstances of Duson’s death, but it
+is always well to be prepared, and I ventured to ask Mr. Hertz here to
+procure for me your opinion as regards the death of your servant.”
+
+“You have asked me,” Mr. Sabin said gravely, “a very difficult
+question.”
+
+The eyes of the little detective flashed keenly.
+
+“You do not believe then, sir, that he died a natural death?”
+
+“I do not,” Mr. Sabin answered.
+
+Mr. Hertz was startled. The detective controlled his features admirably.
+
+“May I ask your reasons, sir?”
+
+Mr. Sabin lightly shrugged his shoulders.
+
+“I have never known the man to have a day’s illness in his life,” he
+said. “Further, since his arrival in England he has been acting in a
+strange and furtive manner, and I gathered that he had some cause for
+fear which he was indisposed to talk about.”
+
+“This,” the detective said, “is very interesting.”
+
+“Doubtless,” Mr. Sabin answered. “But before I say anything more I
+must clearly understand my position. I am giving you personally a few
+friendly hints, in the interests of justice perhaps, but still quite
+informally. I am not in possession of any definite facts concerning
+Duson, and what I say to you here I am not prepared to say at the
+inquest, before which I presume I may have to appear as a witness.
+There, I shall do nothing more save identify Duson and state the
+circumstances under which I found him.”
+
+“I understand that perfectly, sir,” the man answered. “The less said at
+the inquest the better in the interests of justice.”
+
+Mr. Sabin nodded.
+
+“I am glad,” he said, “that you appreciate that. I do not mind going so
+far then as to tell you that I believe Duson died of poison.”
+
+“Can you give me any idea,” the detective asked, “as to the source?”
+
+“None,” Mr. Sabin answered. “That you must discover for yourselves.
+Duson was a man of silent and secretive habits, and it has occurred to
+me more than once that he might possibly be a member of one of those
+foreign societies who have their headquarters in Soho, and concerning
+which you probably know more than I do.”
+
+The detective smiled. It was a very slight flicker of the lips, but it
+attracted Mr. Sabin’s keen attention.
+
+“Your suggestions,” the detective said, “are making this case a very
+interesting one. I have always understood, however, that reprisals of
+this extreme nature are seldom resorted to in this country. Besides,
+the man’s position seems scarcely to indicate sufficient
+importance--perhaps--”
+
+“Well?” Mr. Sabin interjected.
+
+“I notice that Duson was found in your sitting-room. It occurs to me
+as a possibility that he may have met with a fate intended for some one
+else--for yourself, for instance, sir!”
+
+“But I,” Mr. Sabin said smoothly, “am a member of no secret society,
+nor am I conscious of having enemies sufficiently venomous to desire my
+life.”
+
+The detective sat for a moment with immovable face.
+
+“We, all of us, know our friends, sir,” he said. “There are few of us
+properly acquainted with our enemies.”
+
+Mr. Sabin lit a cigarette. His fingers were quite steady, but this man
+was making him think.
+
+“You do not seriously believe,” he asked, “that Duson met with a death
+which was intended for me?”
+
+“I am afraid,” the detective said thoughtfully, “that I know no more
+about it than you do.”
+
+“I see,” Mr. Sabin said, “that I am no stranger to you.”
+
+“You are very far from being that, sir,” the man answered. “A few years
+ago I was working for the Government--and you were not often out of my
+sight.”
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled.
+
+“It was perhaps judicious,” he remarked, “though I am afraid it proved
+of very little profit to you. And what about the present time?”
+
+“I see no harm in telling you, sir, that a general watch is kept upon
+your movements. Duson was useful to us... but now Duson is dead.”
+
+“It is a fact,” Mr. Sabin said impressively, “that Duson was a genius.
+My admiration for him continually increases.”
+
+“Duson made harmless reports to us as we desired them,” the detective
+said. “I have an idea, however, that if this course had at any time been
+inimical to your interests that Duson would have deceived us.”
+
+“I am convinced of it,” Mr. Sabin declared.
+
+“And Duson is dead!”
+
+Mr. Sabin nodded gravely.
+
+The little hard-visaged man looked steadily for a moment upon the
+carpet.
+
+“Duson died virtually whilst accepting pay from if not actually in the
+employ of our Secret Service Department. You will understand, therefore,
+that we, knowing of this complication in his life, naturally incline
+towards the theory of murder. Shall I be taking a liberty, sir, if I
+give you an unprofessional word of warning?”
+
+Mr. Sabin raised his eyebrows.
+
+“By no means,” he answered. “But surely you cannot--”
+
+The man smiled.
+
+“No, sir,” he said drily. “I do not for one moment suspect you. The man
+was our spy upon your movements, but I am perfectly aware that there has
+been nothing worth reporting, and I also know that you would never run
+such a risk for the removal of so insignificant a person. No, my warning
+comes to you from a different point of view. It is, if you will pardon
+my saying so, none the less personal, but wholly friendly. The case of
+Duson will be sifted to the dregs, but unless I am greatly mistaken,
+and I do not see room for the possibility of a mistake, I know the truth
+already.”
+
+“You will share your knowledge?” Mr. Sabin asked quietly.
+
+The detective shook his head.
+
+“You shall know,” he said, “before the last moment. But I want to warn
+you that when you do know it--it will be a shock to you.”
+
+Mr. Sabin stood perfectly still for several moments. This little man
+believed what he was saying. He was certainly deceived. Yet none the
+less Mr. Sabin was thoughtful.
+
+“You do not feel inclined,” he said slowly, “to give me your entire
+confidence.”
+
+“Not at present, sir,” the man answered. “You would certainly intervene,
+and my case would be spoilt.”
+
+Mr. Sabin glanced at the clock.
+
+“If you care to call on me to-morrow,” he said, “I could perhaps show
+you something which might change your opinion.”
+
+The detective bowed.
+
+“I am always open, sir,” he said, “to conviction. I will come about
+twelve o’clock.”
+
+Mr. Sabin went back to the palm lounge. Lucille and Reginald Brott were
+sitting together at a small table, talking earnestly to one another.
+The Prince and Lady Carey had joined another party who were all talking
+together near the entrance. The latter, directly she saw them coming,
+detached herself from them and came to him.
+
+“Your coffee is almost cold,” she said, “but the Prince has found some
+brandy of wonderful age, somewhere in the last century, I believe.”
+
+Mr. Sabin glanced towards Lucille. She appeared engrossed in her
+conversation, and had not noticed his approach. Lady Carey shrugged.
+
+“You have only a few minutes,” she said, “before that dreadful person
+comes and frowns us all out. I have kept you a chair.”
+
+Mr. Sabin sat down. Lady Carey interposed herself between him and the
+small table at which Lucille was sitting.
+
+“Have they discovered anything?” she asked.
+
+“Nothing!” Mr. Sabin answered.
+
+She played with her fan for a moment. Then she looked him steadily in
+the face.
+
+“My friend?”
+
+He glanced towards her.
+
+“Lady Carey!”
+
+“Why are you so obstinate?” she exclaimed in a low, passionate whisper.
+“I want to be your friend, and I could be very useful to you. Yet you
+keep me always at arm’s length. You are making a mistake. Indeed you
+are. I suppose you do not trust me. Yet reflect. Have I ever told you
+anything that was not true? Have I ever tried to deceive you? I don’t
+pretend to be a paragon of the virtues. I live my life to please myself.
+I admit it. Why not? It is simply applying the same sort of philosophy
+to my life as you have applied to yours. My enemies can find plenty to
+say about me--but never that I have been false to a friend. Why do you
+keep me always at arm’s length, as though I were one of those who wished
+you evil?”
+
+“Lady Carey,” Mr. Sabin said, “I will not affect to misunderstand
+you, and I am flattered that you should consider my good will of any
+importance. But you are the friend of the Prince of Saxe Leinitzer. You
+are one of those even now who are working actively against me. I am not
+blaming you, but we are on opposite sides.”
+
+Lady Carey looked for a moment across at the Prince, and her eyes were
+full of venom.
+
+“If you knew,” she murmured, “how I loathe that man. Friends! That is
+all long since past. Nothing would give me so much pleasure as never to
+see his face again.”
+
+“Nevertheless,” Mr. Sabin reminded her, “whatever your private feelings
+may be, he has claims upon you which you cannot resist.”
+
+“There is one thing in the world,” she said in a low tone, “for which I
+would risk even the abnegation of those claims.”
+
+“You would perjure your honour?”
+
+“Yes--if it came to that.”
+
+Mr. Sabin moved uneasily in his chair. The woman was in earnest. She
+offered him an invaluable alliance; she could show him the way to
+hold his own against even the inimical combination by which he was
+surrounded. If only he could compromise. But her eyes were seeking his
+eagerly, even fiercely.
+
+“You doubt me still,” she whispered. “And I thought that you had genius.
+Listen, I will prove myself. The Prince has one of his foolish passions
+for Lucille. You know that. So far she has shown herself able to resist
+his fascinations. He is trying other means. Lucille is in danger!
+Duson!--but after all, I was never really in danger, except the time
+when I carried the despatches for the colonel and rode straight into a
+Boer ambush.”
+
+Mr. Sabin saw nothing, but he did not move a muscle of his face. A
+moment later they heard the Prince’s voice from behind them.
+
+“I am very sorry,” he said, “to interrupt these interesting
+reminiscences, but you see that every one is going. Lucille is already
+in the cloak-room.”
+
+Lady Carey rose at once, but the glance she threw at the Prince was a
+singularly malicious one. They walked down the carpeted way together,
+and Lady Carey left them without a word. In the vestibule Mr. Sabin and
+Reginald Brott came face to face.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII
+
+The greeting between the two men was cold, and the Prince almost
+immediately stepped between them. Nevertheless, Brott seemed to have a
+fancy to talk with Mr. Sabin.
+
+“I was at Camperdown House yesterday,” he remarked. “Her Ladyship was
+regretting that she saw you so seldom.”
+
+“I have been a little remiss,” Mr. Sabin answered. “I hope to lunch
+there to-morrow.”
+
+“You have seen the evening paper, Brott?” the Prince asked.
+
+“I saw the early editions,” Brott answered. “Is there anything fresh?”
+
+The Prince dropped his voice a little. He drew Brott on one side.
+
+“The Westminster declared that you had left for Windsor by an early
+train this afternoon, and gives a list of your Cabinet. The Pall Mall,
+on the other hand, declares that Letheringham will assuredly be sent for
+to-morrow.”
+
+Brott shrugged his shoulders.
+
+“There are bound to be a crop of such reports at a time like this,” he
+remarked.
+
+The Prince dropped his voice almost to a whisper.
+
+“Brott,” he said, “there is something which I have had it in my mind to
+say to you for the last few days. I am not perhaps a great politician,
+but, like many outsiders, I see perhaps a good deal of the game. I know
+fairly well what the feeling is in Vienna and Berlin. I can give you a
+word of advice.”
+
+“You are very kind, Prince,” Brott remarked, looking uneasily over his
+shoulder. “But--”
+
+“It is concerning Brand. There is no man more despised and disliked
+abroad, not only because he is a Jew and ill-bred, but because of his
+known sympathy with some of these anarchists who are perfect firebrands
+in Europe.”
+
+“I am exceedingly obliged to you,” Brott answered hurriedly. “I am
+afraid, however, that you anticipate matters a good deal. I have not yet
+been asked to form a Cabinet. It is doubtful whether I ever shall. And,
+beyond that, it is also doubtful whether even if I am asked I shall
+accept.”
+
+“I must confess,” the Prince said, “that you puzzle me. Every one says
+that the Premiership of the country is within your reach. It is surely
+the Mecca of all politicians.”
+
+“There are complications,” Brott muttered. “You--”
+
+He stopped short and moved towards the door. Lucille, unusually pale
+and grave, had just issued from the ladies’ ante-room, and joined Lady
+Carey, who was talking to Mr. Sabin. She touched the latter lightly on
+the arm.
+
+“Help us to escape,” she said quickly. “I am weary of my task. Can we
+get away without their seeing us?”
+
+Mr. Sabin offered his arm. They passed along the broad way, and as
+they were almost the last to leave the place, their carriage was easily
+found. The Prince and Mr. Brott appeared only in time to see Mr. Sabin
+turning away, hat in hand, from the curb-stone. Brott’s face darkened.
+
+“Prince,” he said, “who is that man?”
+
+The Prince shrugged his shoulders.
+
+“A man,” he said, “who has more than once nearly ruined your country.
+His life has been a splendid failure. He would have given India to the
+Russians, but they mistrusted him and trifled away their chance. Once
+since then he nearly sold this country to Germany; it was a trifle only
+which intervened. He has been all his life devoted to one cause.”
+
+“And that?” Brott asked.
+
+“The restoration of the monarchy to France. He, as you of course know,
+is the Duc de Souspennier, the sole living member in the direct line of
+one of the most ancient and historical houses in England. My friend,”
+ he added, turning to Mr. Sabin, “you have stolen a march upon us. We had
+not even an opportunity of making our adieux to the ladies.”
+
+“I imagine,” Mr. Sabin answered, “that the cause of quarrel may rest
+with them. You were nowhere in sight when they came out.”
+
+“These fascinating politics,” the Prince remarked. “We all want to talk
+politics to Mr. Brott just now.”
+
+“I will wish you good-night, gentlemen,” Mr. Sabin said, and passed into
+the hotel.
+
+The Prince touched Brott on the arm.
+
+“Will you come round to the club, and take a hand at bridge?” he said.
+
+Brott laughed shortly.
+
+“I imagine,” he said, “that I should be an embarrassing guest to you
+just now at, say the Mallborough, or even at the St. James. I believe
+the aristocracy are looking forward to the possibility of my coming into
+power with something like terror.”
+
+“I am not thoroughly versed; in the politics of this country,” the
+Prince said, “but I have always understood that your views were
+very much advanced. Dorset solemnly believes that you are pledged to
+exterminate the large landed proprietors, and I do not think he would be
+surprised to hear that you had a guillotine up your sleeve.”
+
+The two men were strolling along Pall Mall. The Prince had lit a large
+cigar, and was apparently on the best of terms with himself and the
+world in general. Brott, on the contrary, was most unlike himself,
+preoccupied, and apparently ill at ease.
+
+“The Duke and his class are, of course, my natural opponents,” Brott
+said shortly. “By the bye, Prince,” he added, suddenly turning towards
+him, and with a complete change of tone, “it is within your power to do
+me a favour.”
+
+“You have only to command,” the Prince assured him good-naturedly.
+
+“My rooms are close here,” Brott continued. “Will you accompany me
+there, and grant me the favour of a few minutes’ conversation?”
+
+“Assuredly!” the Prince answered, flicking the end off his cigar. “It
+will be a pleasure.”
+
+They walked on towards their destination in silence. Brott’s secretary
+was in the library with a huge pile of letters and telegrams before him.
+He welcomed Brott with relief.
+
+“We have been sending all over London for you, sir,” he said.
+
+Brott nodded.
+
+“I am better out of the way for the present,” he answered. “Deny me to
+everybody for an hour, especially Letheringham. There is nothing here, I
+suppose, which cannot wait so long as that?”
+
+The secretary looked a little doubtful.
+
+“I think not, sir,” he decided.
+
+“Very good. Go and get something to eat. You look fagged. And tell Hyson
+to bring up some liqueurs, will you! I shall be engaged for a short
+time.”
+
+The secretary withdrew. A servant appeared with a little tray of
+liqueurs, and in obedience to an impatient gesture from his master, left
+them upon the table. Brott closed the door firmly.
+
+“Prince,” he said, resuming his seat, “I wished to speak with you
+concerning the Countess.”
+
+Saxe Leinitzer nodded.
+
+“All right,” he said. “I am listening!”
+
+“I understand,” Brott continued, “that you are one of her oldest
+friends, and also one of the trustees of her estates. I presume that you
+stand to her therefore to some extent in the position of an adviser?”
+
+“It is perfectly true,” the Prince admitted.
+
+“I, too, am an old friend, as she has doubtless told you,” Brott said.
+“All my life she has been the one woman whom I have desired to call my
+wife. That desire has never been so strong as at the present moment.”
+
+The Prince removed his cigar from his mouth and looked grave.
+
+“But, my dear Brott,” he said, “have you considered the enormous gulf
+between your--views? The Countess owns great hereditary estates, she
+comes from a family which is almost Royal, she herself is an aristocrat
+to the backbone. It is a class against which you have declared war. How
+can you possibly come together on common ground?”
+
+Brott was silent for a moment. Looking at him steadily the Prince was
+surprised at the change in the man’s appearance. His cheeks seemed
+blanched and his skin drawn. He had lost flesh, his eyes were hollow,
+and he frequently betrayed in small mannerisms a nervousness wholly new
+and unfamiliar to him.
+
+“You speak as a man of sense, Prince,” he said after a while. “You are
+absolutely correct. This matter has caused me a great deal of anxious
+thought. To falter at this moment is to lose, politically, all that I
+have worked for all my life. It is to lose the confidence of the
+people who have trusted me. It is a betrayal, the thought of which is
+a constant shame to me. But, on the other hand, Lucille is the dearest
+thing to me in life.”
+
+The Prince’s expression was wholly sympathetic. The derision which
+lurked behind he kept wholly concealed. A strong man so abjectly in the
+toils, and he to be chosen for his confidant! It was melodrama with a
+dash of humour.
+
+“If I am to help you,” the Prince said, “I must know everything. Have
+you made any proposals to Lucille? In plain words, how much of your
+political future are you disposed to sacrifice?”
+
+“All!” Brott said hoarsely. “All for a certainty of her. Not one jot
+without.”
+
+“And she?”
+
+Brott sprang to his feet, white and nervous.
+
+“It is where I am at fault,” he exclaimed. “It is why I have asked for
+your advice, your help perhaps. I do not find it easy to understand
+Lucille. Perhaps it is because I am not well versed in the ways of her
+sex. I find her elusive. She will give me no promise. Before I went
+to Glasgow I talked with her. If she would have married me then my
+political career was over--thrown on one side like an old garment. But
+she would give me no promise. In everything save the spoken words I
+crave she has promised me her love. Again there comes a climax. In a few
+hours I must make my final choice. I must decline to join Letheringham,
+in which case the King must send for me, or accept office with him,
+and throw away the one great chance of this generation. Letheringham’s
+Cabinet, of course, would be a moderate Liberal one, a paragon of milk
+and water in effectiveness. If I go in alone we make history. The moment
+of issue has come. And, Prince, although I have pleaded with all the
+force and all the earnestness I know, Lucille remains elusive. If I
+choose for her side--she promises me--reward. But it is vague to me. I
+don’t, I can’t understand! I want her for my wife, I want her for the
+rest of my life--nothing else. Tell me, is there any barrier to this?
+There are no complications in her life which I do not know of? I want
+your assurance. I want her promise. You understand me?”
+
+“Yes, I understand you,” the Prince said gravely. “I understand more
+than you do. I understand Lucille’s position.”
+
+Brott leaned forward with bright eyes.
+
+“Ah!”
+
+“Lucille, the Countess of Radantz, is at the present moment a married
+woman.”
+
+Brott was speechless. His face was like a carved stone image, from which
+the life had wholly gone.
+
+“Her husband--in name only, let me tell you, is the Mr. Sabin with whom
+we had supper this evening.”
+
+“Great God!”
+
+“Their marriage had strange features in it which are not my concern, or
+even yours,” the Prince said deliberately. “The truth is, that they have
+not lived together for years, they never will again, for their divorce
+proceedings would long ago have been concluded but for the complications
+arising from the difference between the Hungarian and the American laws.
+Here, without doubt, is the reason why the Countess has hesitated to
+pledge her word directly.”
+
+“It is wonderful,” Brott said slowly. “But it explains everything.”
+
+There was a loud knock at the door. The secretary appeared upon the
+threshold. Behind him was a tall, slim young man in traveling costume.
+
+“The King’s messenger!” Brott exclaimed, rising to his feet.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIV
+
+The Prince presented himself with a low bow. Lucille had a copy of the
+morning paper in her hand.
+
+“I congratulate you, Countess,” he said. “You progress admirably. It is
+a great step gained.”
+
+Lucille, who was looking pale and nervous, regarded him with anxiety.
+
+“A step! But it is everything. If these rumours are true, he refuses
+the attempt to form a Cabinet. He takes a subordinate position under
+Letheringham. Every paper this morning says that if this is so his
+political career is over. It is true, is it not?”
+
+“It is a great gain,” the Prince said slowly.
+
+“But it is everything,” Lucille declared, with a rising note of passion
+in her tone. “It was my task. It is accomplished. I demand my release.”
+
+The Prince was silent for a moment.
+
+“You are in a great hurry, Lucille,” he said.
+
+“What if I am!” she replied fiercely. “Do you suppose that this life of
+lies and deceit is pleasant to me? Do you suppose that it is a pleasant
+task to lure a brave man on to his ruin?”
+
+The Prince raised his eyebrows.
+
+“Come,” he said, “you can have no sympathy with Reginald Brott, the
+sworn enemy of our class, a Socialist, a demagogue who would parcel out
+our lands in allotments, a man who has pledged himself to nothing more
+nor less than a revolution.”
+
+“The man’s views are hateful enough,” she answered, “but he is in
+earnest, and however misguided he may be there is something noble in his
+unselfishness, in his, steady fixedness of purpose.”
+
+The Prince’s face indicated his contempt.
+
+“Such men,” he declared, “are only fit to be crushed like vermin under
+foot. In any other country save England we should have dealt with him
+differently.”
+
+“This is all beside the question,” she declared. “My task was to prevent
+his becoming Prime Minister, and I have succeeded.”
+
+The Prince gave vent to a little gesture of dissent. “Your task,” he
+said, “went a little farther than that. We require his political ruin.”
+
+She pointed to the pile of newspapers upon the table.
+
+“Read what they say!” she exclaimed. “There is not one who does not use
+that precise term. He has missed his opportunity. The people will never
+trust him again.”
+
+“That, at any rate, is not certain,” the Prince said. “You must remember
+that before long he will realise that he has been your tool. What
+then? He will become more rabid than ever, more also to be feared. No,
+Lucille, your task is not yet over. He must be involved in an open and
+public scandal, and with you.”
+
+She was white almost to the lips with passion.
+
+“You expect a great deal!” she exclaimed. “You expect me to ruin my
+life, then, to give my honour as well as these weary months, this
+constant humiliation.”
+
+“You are pleased to be melodramatic,” he said coldly. “It is quite
+possible to involve him without actually going to extremes.”
+
+“And what of my husband?” she asked.
+
+The Prince laughed unpleasantly.
+
+“If you have not taught him complaisance,” he said, “it is possible, of
+course, that Mr. Sabin might be unkind. But what of it? You are your
+own mistress. You are a woman of the world. Without him there is an
+infinitely greater future before you than as his wife you could ever
+enjoy.”
+
+“You are pleased,” she said, “to be enigmatic.”
+
+The Prince looked hard at her. Her face was white and set. He sighed.
+
+“Lucille,” he said, “I have been very patient for many years. Yet you
+know very well my secret, and in your heart you know very well that I am
+one of those who generally win the thing upon which they have set their
+hearts. I have always loved you, Lucille, but never more than now.
+Fidelity is admirable, but surely you have done your duty. He is an old
+man, and a man who has failed in the great things of life. I, on the
+other hand, can offer you a great future. Saxe Leinitzer, as you know,
+is a kingdom of its own, and, Lucille, I stand well with the Emperor.
+The Socialist party in Berlin are strong and increasing. He needs us.
+Who can say what honours may not be in store for us? For I, too, am of
+the Royal House, Lucille. I am his kinsman. He never forgets that. Come,
+throw aside this restlessness. I will tell you how to deal with Brott,
+and the publicity, after all, will be nothing. We will go abroad
+directly afterwards.”
+
+“Have you finished?” she asked.
+
+“You will be reasonable!” he begged.
+
+“Reasonable!” She turned upon him with flashing eyes. “I wonder how
+you ever dared to imagine that I could tolerate you for one moment as a
+lover or a husband. Wipe it out of your mind once and for all. You are
+repellent to me. Positively the only wish I have in connection with
+you is never to see your face again. As for my duty, I have done it. My
+conscience is clear. I shall leave this house to-day.”
+
+“I hope,” the Prince said softly, “that you will do nothing rash!”
+
+“In an hour,” she said, “I shall be at the Carlton with my husband. I
+will trust to him to protect me from you.”
+
+The Prince shook his head.
+
+“You talk rashly,” he said. “You do not think. You are forbidden to
+leave this house. You are forbidden to join your husband.”
+
+She laughed scornfully, but underneath was a tremor of uneasiness.
+
+“You summoned me from America,” she said, “and I came... I was forced to
+leave my husband without even a word of farewell. I did it! You set me
+a task--I have accomplished it. I claim that I have kept my bond, that
+I have worked out my own freedom. If you require more of me, I say that
+you are overstepping your authority, and I refuse. Set the black cross
+against my name if you will. I will take the risk.”
+
+The Prince came a little nearer to her. She held her own bravely enough,
+but there was a look in his face which terrified her.
+
+“Lucille,” he said, “you force me to disclose something which I have
+kept so far to myself. I wished to spare you anxiety, but you must
+understand that your safety depends upon your remaining in this house,
+and in keeping apart from all association with--your husband.”
+
+“You will find it difficult,” she said, “to convince me of that.”
+
+“On the contrary,” he said, “I shall find it easy--too easy, believe me.
+You will remember my finding you at the wine-shop of Emil Sachs?”
+
+“Yes!”
+
+“You refused to tell me the object of your visit. It was foolish, for
+of course I was informed. You procured from Emil a small quantity of the
+powder prepared according to the recipe of Herr Estentrauzen, and for
+which we paid him ten thousand marks. It is the most silent, the most
+secret, the most swift poison yet discovered.”
+
+“I got it for myself,” she said coldly. “There have been times when I
+have felt that the possession of something of that sort was an absolute
+necessity.”
+
+“I do not question you as to the reason for your getting it,” he
+answered. “Very shortly afterwards you left your carriage in Pall Mall,
+and without even asking for your husband you called at his hotel--you
+stole up into his room.”
+
+“I took some roses there and left them,” she said “What of that?”
+
+“Only that you were the last person seen to enter Mr. Sabin’s rooms
+before Duson was found there dead. And Duson died from a dose of that
+same poison, a packet of which you procured secretly from Emil Sachs. An
+empty wineglass was by his side--it was one generally used by Mr. Sabin.
+I know that the English police, who are not so foolish as people would
+have one believe, are searching now for the woman who was seen to enter
+the sitting-room shortly before Mr. Sabin returned and found Duson there
+dead.”
+
+She laughed scornfully.
+
+“It is ingenious,” she admitted, “and perhaps a little unfortunate for
+me. But the inference is ridiculous. What interest had I in the man’s
+death?”
+
+“None, of course!” the Prince said. “But, Lucille, in all cases of
+poisoning it is the wife of whom one first thinks!”
+
+“The wife? I did not even know that the creature had a wife.”
+
+“Of course not! But Duson drank from Mr. Sabin’s glass, and you are
+Mr. Sabin’s wife. You are living apart from him. He is old and you are
+young. And for the other man--there is Reginald Brott. Your names have
+been coupled together, of course. See what an excellent case stands
+there. You procure the poison--secretly. You make your way to your
+husband’s room--secretly. The fatal dose is taken from your husband’s
+wineglass. You leave no note, no message. The poison of which the man
+died is exactly the same as you procured from Sachs. Lucille, after all,
+do you wonder that the police are looking for a woman in black with an
+ermine toque? What a mercy you wore a thick veil!”
+
+She sat down suddenly.
+
+“This is hideous,” she said.
+
+“Think it over,” he said, “step by step. It is wonderful how all the
+incidents dovetail into one another.”
+
+“Too wonderful,” she cried. “It sounds like some vile plot to
+incriminate me. How much had you to do with this, Prince?”
+
+“Don’t be a fool!” he answered roughly. “Can’t you see for yourself that
+your arrest would be the most terrible thing that could happen for us?
+Even Sachs might break down in cross-examination, and you--well, you
+are a woman, and you want to live. We should all be in the most deadly
+peril. Lucille, I would have spared you this anxiety if I could, but
+your defiance made it necessary. There was no other way of getting you
+away from England to-night except by telling you the truth.”
+
+“Away from England to-night,” she repeated vaguely. “But I will not go.
+It is impossible.”
+
+“It is imperative,” the Prince declared, with a sharp ring of authority
+in his tone. “It is your own folly, for which you have to pay. You went
+secretly to Emil Sachs. You paid surreptitious visits to your husband,
+which were simply madness. You have involved us all in danger. For our
+own sakes we must see that you are removed.”
+
+“It is the very thing to excite suspicion--flight abroad,” she objected.
+
+“Your flight,” he said coolly, “will be looked upon from a different
+point of view, for Reginald Brott must follow you. It will be an
+elopement, not a flight from justice.”
+
+“And in case I should decline?” Lucille asked quietly.
+
+The Prince shrugged his shoulders.
+
+“Well, we have done the best we can for ourselves,” he said. “Come, I
+will be frank with you. There are great interests involved here, and,
+before all things, I have had to consider the welfare of our friends.
+That is my duty! Emil Sachs by this time is beyond risk of detection.
+He has left behind a letter, in which he confesses that he has for
+some time supplemented the profits of his wine-shop by selling secretly
+certain deadly poisons of his own concoctions. Alarmed at reading of the
+death of Duson immediately after he had sold a poison which the symptoms
+denoted he had fled the country. That letter is in the hands of the
+woman who remains in the wine-shop, and will only be used in case of
+necessity. By other means we have dissociated ourselves from Duson and
+all connection with him. I think I could go so far as to say that it
+would be impossible to implicate us. Our sole anxiety now, therefore, is
+to save you.”
+
+Lucille rose to her feet.
+
+“I shall go at once to my husband,” she said. “I shall tell him
+everything. I shall act on his advice.”
+
+The Prince stood over by the door, and she heard the key turn.
+
+“You will do nothing of the sort,” he said quietly. “You are in my power
+at last, Lucille. You will do my bidding, or--”
+
+“Or what?”
+
+“I shall myself send for the police and give you into custody!”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXV
+
+The Prince crossed the hall and entered the morning-room. Felix was
+there and Raoul de Brouillac. The Duchess sat at her writing-table,
+scribbling a note. Lady Carey, in a wonderful white serge costume, and
+a huge bunch of Neapolitan violets at her bosom, was lounging in an
+easy-chair, swinging her foot backwards and forwards. The Duke, in a
+very old tweed coat, but immaculate as to linen and the details of
+his toilet, stood a little apart, with a frown upon his forehead, and
+exactly that absorbed air which in the House of Lords usually indicated
+his intention to make a speech. The entrance of the Prince, who
+carefully closed the door behind him, was an event for which evidently
+they were all waiting.
+
+“My good people,” he said blandly, “I wish you all a very good-morning.”
+
+There was a little murmur of greetings, and before they had all subsided
+the Duke spoke.
+
+“Saxe Leinitzer,” he said, “I have a few questions to ask you.”
+
+The Prince looked across the room at him.
+
+“By all means, Duke,” he said. “But is the present an opportune time?”
+
+“Opportune or no, it is the time which I have selected,” the Duke
+answered stiffly. “I do not altogether understand what is going on in
+this house. I am beginning to wonder whether I have been misled.”
+
+The Prince, as he twirled his fair moustache, glanced carelessly enough
+across at the Duchess. She was looking the other way.
+
+“I became a--er--general member of this Society,” the Duke continued,
+“sympathising heartily with its objects as explained to me by you,
+Prince, and believing, although to confess it is somewhat of a
+humiliation, that a certain amount of--er--combination amongst the
+aristocracy has become necessary to resist the terrible increase of
+Socialism which we must all so much deplore.”
+
+“You are not making a speech, dear,” the Duchess remarked, looking
+coldly across the room at him. “We are all anxious to hear what the
+Prince has to say to us.”
+
+“Your anxiety,” the Duke continued, “and the anxiety of our friends must
+be restrained for a few minutes, for there are certain things which I
+am determined to say, and to say them now. I must confess that it was
+at first a painful shock to me to realise that the time had come when it
+was necessary for us to take any heed of the uneducated rabble who seem
+born into the world discontented with their station in life, and instead
+of making honest attempts to improve it waste their time railing against
+us who are more fortunately placed, and in endeavours to mislead in
+every possible way the electorate of the country.”
+
+The Prince sighed softly, and lit a cigarette. Lady Carey and Felix were
+already smoking.
+
+“However,” the Duke continued, “I was convinced. I have always believed
+in the principle of watching closely the various signs of the times,
+and I may say that I came to the conclusion that a combination of the
+thinking members of the aristocratic party throughout the world was an
+excellent idea. I therefore became what is, I believe, called a general
+member of the Order, of which I believe you, Prince, are the actual
+head.”
+
+“My dear James,” the Duchess murmured, “the Prince has something to say
+to us.”
+
+“The Prince,” her husband answered coldly, “can keep back his
+information for a few minutes. I am determined to place my position
+clearly before all of you who are present here now. It is only since I
+have joined this Society that I have been made aware that in addition to
+the general members, of which body I believe that the Duchess and I are
+the sole representatives here, there are special members, and members of
+the inner circle. And I understand that in connection with these there
+is a great machinery of intrigue going on all the time, with branches
+all over the world, spies everywhere with unlimited funds, and with huge
+opportunities of good or evil. In effect I have become an outside member
+of what is nothing more nor less than a very powerful and, it seems to
+me, daring secret society.”
+
+“So far as you are concerned, Duke,” the Prince said, “your
+responsibility ceases with ordinary membership. You can take no count of
+anything beyond. The time may come when the inner circle may be opened
+to you.”
+
+The Duke coughed.
+
+“You misapprehend me,” he said. “I can assure you I am not anxious for
+promotion. On the contrary, I stand before you an aggrieved person. I
+have come to the conclusion that my house, and the shelter of my wife’s
+name, have been used for a plot, the main points of which have been kept
+wholly secret from me.”
+
+The Prince flicked his cigarette ash into the grate.
+
+“My dear Dorset,” he said gently, “if you will allow me to explain--”
+
+“I thank you, Saxe Leinitzer,” the Duke said coldly, “but it is
+beginning to occur to me that I have had enough of your explanations.
+It seemed natural enough to me, and I must say well conceived, that some
+attempt should be made to modify the views of, if not wholly convert,
+Reginald Brott by means of the influence of a very charming woman. It
+was my duty as a member of the Order to assist in this, and the shelter
+of my house and name were freely accorded to the Countess. But it is
+news to me to find that she was brought here practically by force.
+That because she was an inner member and therefore bound to implicit
+obedience that she was dragged away from her husband, kept apart from
+him against her will, forced into endeavours to make a fool of Brott
+even at the cost of her good name. And now, worst of all, I am told that
+a very deeply laid plot on the part of some of you will compel her
+to leave England almost at once, and that her safety depends upon her
+inducing Reginald Brott to accompany her.”
+
+“She has appealed to you,” the Prince muttered.
+
+“She has done nothing so sensible,” the Duke answered drily. “The facts
+which I have just stated are known to every one in this room. I perhaps
+know less than any one. But I know enough for this. I request, Saxe
+Leinitzer, that you withdraw the name of myself and my wife from your
+list of members, and that you understand clearly that my house is to
+be no more used for meetings of the Society, formal or informal. And,
+further, though I regret the apparent inhospitality of my action, my
+finger is now, as you see, upon the bell, and I venture to wish you all
+a very good-morning. Groves,” he added to the servant who answered the
+door, “the Prince of Saxe Leinitzer’s carriage is urgently required.”
+
+The Prince and Lady Carey descended the broad steps side by side. She
+was laughing softly but immoderately. The Prince was pale with fury.
+
+“Pompous old ass,” he muttered savagely. “He may have a worse scandal in
+his house now than he dreams of.”
+
+She wiped her eyes.
+
+“Have I not always told you,” she said, “that intrigue in this country
+was a sheer impossibility? You may lay your plans ever so carefully, but
+you cannot foresee such a contretemps as this.”
+
+“Idiot!” the Prince cried. “Oh, the dolt! Why, even his wife was
+amazed.”
+
+“He may be all those pleasant things,” Lady Carey, said, “but he is a
+gentleman.”
+
+He stopped short. The footman was standing by the side of Lady Carey’s
+victoria with a rug on his arm.
+
+“Lucille,” he said thoughtfully, “is locked in the morning-room. She is
+prostrate with fear. If the Duke sees her everything is over. Upon
+my word, I have a good mind to throw this all up and cross to Paris
+to-night. Let England breed her own revolutions. What do you say,
+Muriel? Will you come with me?”
+
+She laughed scornfully.
+
+“I’d as soon go with my coachman,” she said.
+
+His eyebrows narrowed. A dull, purple flush crept to his forehead.
+
+“Your wit,” he said, “is a little coarse. Listen! You wish our first
+plan to go through?”
+
+“Of course!”
+
+“Then you must get Lucille out of that house. If she is left there she
+is absolutely lost to us. Apart from that, she is herself not safe.
+Our plan worked out too well. She is really in danger from this Duson
+affair.”
+
+The laughter died away from Lady Carey’s face. She hesitated with her
+foot upon the step of her carriage.
+
+“You can go back easily enough,” the Prince said. “You are the Duke’s
+cousin, and you were not included in his tirade. Lucille is in the
+morning-room, and here is the key. I brought it away with me. You must
+tell her that all our plans are broken, that we have certain knowledge
+that the police are on the track of this Duson affair. Get her to your
+house in Pont Street, and I will be round this afternoon. Or better
+still, take her to mine.”
+
+Lady Carey stepped back on to the pavement. She was still, however,
+hesitating.
+
+“Leave her with the Duke and Duchess,” the Prince said, “and she will
+dine with her husband to-night.”
+
+Lady Carey took the key from his hand.
+
+“I will try,” she said. “How shall you know whether I succeed?”
+
+“I will wait in the gardens,” he answered. “I shall be out of sight, but
+I shall be able to see you come out. If you are alone I shall come
+to you. If she is with you I shall be at your house in an hour, and I
+promise you that she shall leave England to-night with me.”
+
+“Poor Brott!” she murmured ironically.
+
+The Prince smiled.
+
+“He will follow her. Every one will believe that they left London
+together. That is all that is required.”
+
+Lady Carey re-entered the house. The Prince made his way into the
+gardens. Ten minutes passed--a quarter of an hour. Then Lady Carey with
+Lucille reappeared, and stepping quickly into the victoria were driven
+away. The Prince drew a little sigh of relief. He looked at his watch,
+called a hansom, and drove to his club for lunch.
+
+Another man, who had also been watching Dorset House from the gardens
+for several hours, also noted Lucille’s advent with relief. He followed
+the Prince out and entered another hansom.
+
+“Follow that victoria which has just driven off,” he ordered. “Don’t
+lose sight of it. Double fare.”
+
+The trap-door fell, and the man whipped up his horse.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVI
+
+Mr. Sabin received an early visitor whilst still lingering over a slight
+but elegant breakfast. Passmore seated himself in an easy-chair and
+accepted the cigar which his host himself selected for him.
+
+“I am glad to see you,” Mr. Sabin said. “This affair of Duson’s remains
+a complete mystery to me. I am looking to you to help me solve it.”
+
+The little man with the imperturbable face removed his cigar from his
+mouth and contemplated it steadfastly.
+
+“It is mysterious,” he said. “There are circumstances in connection
+with it which even now puzzle me very much, very much indeed. There are
+circumstances in connection with it also which I fear may be a shock to
+you, sir.”
+
+“My life,” Mr. Sabin said, with a faint smile, “has been made up of
+shocks. A few more or less may not hurt me.”
+
+“Duson,” the detective said, “was at heart a faithful servant!”
+
+“I believe it,” Mr. Sabin said.
+
+“He was much attached to you!”
+
+“I believe it.”
+
+“It is possible that unwittingly he died for you.”
+
+Mr. Sabin was silent. It was his way of avoiding a confession of
+surprise. And he was surprised. “You believe then,” he said, after a
+moment’s pause, “that the poison was intended for me?”
+
+“Certainly I do,” the detective answered. “Duson was, after all, a
+valet, a person of little importance. There is no one to whom his
+removal could have been of sufficient importance to justify such extreme
+measures. With you it is different.”
+
+Mr. Sabin knocked the ash from his cigarette.
+
+“Why not be frank with me, Mr. Passmore?” he said. “There is no need
+to shelter yourself under professional reticence. Your connection with
+Scotland Yard ended, I believe, some time ago. You are free to speak or
+to keep silence. Do one or the other. Tell me what you think, and I will
+tell you what I know. That surely will be a fair exchange. You shall
+have my facts for your surmises.”
+
+Passmore’s thin lips curled into a smile. “You know that I have left
+Scotland Yard then, sir?”
+
+“Quite well! You are employed by them often, I believe, but you are not
+on the staff, not since the affair of Nerman and the code book.”
+
+If Passmore had been capable of reverence, his eyes looked it at that
+moment.
+
+“You knew this last night, sir?”
+
+“Certainly!”
+
+“Five years ago, sir,” he said, “I told my chief that in you the
+detective police of the world had lost one who must have been their
+king. More and more you convince me of it. I cannot believe that you are
+ignorant of the salient points concerning Duson’s death.”
+
+“Treat me as being so, at any rate,” Mr. Sabin said.
+
+“I am pardoned,” Passmore said, “for speaking plainly of family
+matters--my concern in which is of course purely professional?”
+
+Mr. Sabin looked up for a moment, but he signified his assent.
+
+“You left America,” Passmore said, “in search of your wife, formerly
+Countess of Radantz, who had left you unexpectedly.”
+
+“It is true!” Mr. Sabin answered.
+
+“Madame la Duchesse on reaching London became the guest of the Duchess
+of Dorset, where she has been staying since. Whilst there she has
+received many visits from Mr. Reginald Brott.”
+
+Mr. Sabin’s face was as the face of a sphinx. He made no sign.
+
+“You do not waste your time, sir, over the Society papers. Yet you have
+probably heard that Madame la Duchesse and Mr. Reginald Brott have been
+written about and spoken about as intimate friends. They have been seen
+together everywhere. Gossip has been busy with their names. Mr. Brott
+has followed the Countess into circles which before her coming he
+zealously eschewed. The Countess is everywhere regarded as a widow, and
+a marriage has been confidently spoken of.”
+
+Mr. Sabin bowed his head slightly. But of expression there was in his
+face no sign.
+
+“These things,” Passmore continued, “are common knowledge. I have
+spoken up to now of nothing which is not known to the world. I proceed
+differently.”
+
+“Good!” Mr. Sabin said.
+
+“There is,” Passmore continued, “in the foreign district of London a
+man named Emil Sachs, who keeps a curious sort of a wine-shop, and
+supplements his earnings by disposing at a high figure of certain rare
+and deadly poisons. A few days ago the Countess visited him and secured
+a small packet of the most deadly drug the man possesses.”
+
+Mr. Sabin sat quite still. He was unmoved.
+
+“The Countess,” Passmore continued, “shortly afterwards visited these
+rooms. An hour after her departure Duson was dead. He died from drinking
+out of your liqueur glass, into which a few specks of that powder,
+invisible almost to the naked eye, had been dropped. At Dorset House
+Reginald Brott was waiting for her. He left shortly afterwards in a
+state of agitation.”
+
+“And from these things,” Mr. Sabin said, “you draw, I presume, the
+natural inference that Madame la Duchesse, desiring to marry her old
+admirer, Reginald Brott, first left me in America, and then, since I
+followed her here, attempted to poison me.”
+
+“There is,” Passmore said, “a good deal of evidence to that effect.”
+
+“Here,” Mr. Sabin said, handing him Duson’s letter, “is some evidence to
+the contrary.”
+
+Passmore read the letter carefully.
+
+“You believe this,” he asked, “to be genuine?”
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled.
+
+“I am sure of it!” he answered.
+
+“You recognise the handwriting?”
+
+“Certainly!”
+
+“And this came into your possession--how?”
+
+“I found it on the table by Duson’s side.”
+
+“You intend to produce it at the inquest?”
+
+“I think not,” Mr. Sabin answered.
+
+There was a short silence. Passmore was revolving a certain matter in
+his mind--thinking hard. Mr. Sabin was apparently trying to make rings
+of the blue smoke from his cigarette.
+
+“Has it occurred to you,” Passmore asked, “to wonder for what reason
+your wife visited these rooms on the morning of Duson’s death?”
+
+Mr. Sabin shook his head.
+
+“I cannot say that it has.”
+
+“She knew that you were not here,” Passmore continued. “She left no
+message. She came closely veiled and departed unrecognised.” Mr. Sabin
+nodded.
+
+“There were reasons,” he said, “for that. But when you say that she left
+no message you are mistaken.”
+
+Passmore nodded.
+
+“Go on,” he said.
+
+Mr. Sabin nodded towards a great vase of La France roses upon a side
+table.
+
+“I found these here on my return,” he said, “and attached to them the
+card which I believe is still there. Go and look at it.”
+
+Passmore rose and bent over the fragrant blossoms. The card still
+remained, and on the back of it, in a delicate feminine handwriting:
+
+                            “For my husband,
+                            “with love from
+                               “Lucille.”
+
+
+Mr. Passmore shrugged his shoulders. He had not the vice of obstinacy,
+and he knew when to abandon a theory.
+
+“I am corrected,” he said. “In any case, a mystery remains as well worth
+solving. Who are these people at whose instigation Duson was to have
+murdered you--these people whom Duson feared so much that suicide was
+his only alternative to obeying their behests?”
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled faintly.
+
+“Ah, my dear Passmore,” he said, “you must not ask me that question.
+I can only answer you in this way. If you wish to make the biggest
+sensation which has ever been created in the criminal world, to render
+yourself immortal, and your fame imperishable--find out! I may not help
+you, I doubt whether you will find any to help you. But if you want
+excitement, the excitement of a dangerous chase after a tremendous
+quarry, take your life in your hands, go in and win.”
+
+Passmore’s withered little face lit up with a gleam of rare excitement.
+
+“These are your enemies, sir,” he said. “They have attempted your life
+once, they may do it again. Assume the offensive yourself. Give me a
+hint.”
+
+Mr. Sabin shook his head.
+
+“That I cannot do,” he said. “I have saved you from wasting your time on
+a false scent. I have given you something definite to work upon. Further
+than that I can do nothing.”
+
+Passmore looked his disappointment, but he knew Mr. Sabin better than to
+argue the matter.
+
+“You will not even produce that letter at the inquest?” he asked.
+
+“Not even that,” Mr. Sabin answered.
+
+Passmore rose to his feet.
+
+“You must remember,” he said, “that supposing any one else stumbles
+upon the same trail as I have been pursuing, and suspicion is afterwards
+directed towards madame, your not producing that letter at the inquest
+will make it useless as evidence in her favour.”
+
+“I have considered all these things,” Mr. Sabin said. “I shall deposit
+the letter in a safe place. But its use will never be necessary. You are
+the only man who might have forced me to produce it, and you know the
+truth.”
+
+Passmore rose reluctantly.
+
+“I want you,” Mr. Sabin said, “to leave me not only your address, but
+the means of finding you at any moment during the next four-and-twenty
+hours. I may have some important work for you.”
+
+The man smiled as he tore leaf from his pocketbook and a made a few
+notes.
+
+“I shall be glad to take any commission from you, sir,” he said. “To
+tell you the truth, I scarcely thought that you would be content to sit
+down and wait.”
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled.
+
+“I think,” he said, “that very shortly I can find you plenty to do.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVII
+
+Mr. Sabin a few minutes afterwards ordered his carriage, and was driven
+to Dorset House. He asked for Lucille, but was shown at once into the
+library, where the Duke was awaiting him. Then Mr. Sabin knew that
+something had happened.
+
+The Duke extended his hand solemnly.
+
+“My dear Souspennier,” he said, “I am glad to see you. I was in fact on
+the point of despatching a messenger to your hotel.”
+
+“I am glad,” Mr. Sabin remarked, “that my visit is opportune. To tell
+you the truth, Duke, I am anxious to see my wife.”
+
+The Duke coughed.
+
+“I trust,” he said, “that you will not for a moment consider me guilty
+of any discourtesy to the Countess, for whom I have a great respect and
+liking. But it has come to my knowledge that the shelter of my roof and
+name were being given to proceedings of which I heartily disapproved.
+I therefore only a few hours ago formally broke off all connection
+with Saxe Leinitzer and his friends, and to put the matter plainly, I
+expelled them from the house.”
+
+“I congratulate you heartily, Duke, upon a most sensible proceeding,”
+ Mr. Sabin said. “But in the meantime where is my wife?”
+
+“Your wife was not present at the time,” the Duke answered, “and I had
+not the slightest intention of including her in the remarks I made.
+Whether she understood this or not I cannot say, but I have since been
+given to understand that she left with them.”
+
+“How long ago?” Mr. Sabin asked.
+
+“Several hours, I fear,” the Duke answered. “I should like, Souspennier,
+to express to you my regrets that I was ever induced to become connected
+in any way with proceedings which must have caused you a great deal of
+pain. I beg you to accept my apologies.”
+
+“I do not blame you, Duke,” Mr. Sabin said. “My one desire now is to
+wrest my wife away from this gang. Can you tell me whether she left
+alone or with any of them?”
+
+“I will endeavour to ascertain,” the Duke said, ringing the bell.
+
+But before the Duke’s somewhat long-winded series of questions had gone
+very far Mr. Sabin grasped the fact that the servants had been tampered
+with. Without wasting any more time he took a somewhat hurried leave
+and drove back to the hotel. One of the hall porters approached him,
+smiling.
+
+“There is a lady waiting for you in your rooms, sir,” he announced. “She
+arrived a few minutes ago.”
+
+Mr. Sabin rang for the elevator, got out at his floor and walked down
+the corridor, leaning a little more heavily than usual upon his stick.
+If indeed it were Lucille who had braved all and come to him the way
+before them might still be smooth sailing. He would never let her go
+again. He was sure of that. They would leave England--yes, there was
+time still to catch the five o’clock train. He turned the handle of
+his door and entered. A familiar figure rose from the depths of his
+easy-chair. Her hat lay on the table, her jacket was open, one of his
+cigarettes was between her lips. But it was not Lucille.
+
+“Lady Carey!” he said slowly. “This is an unexpected pleasure. Have you
+brought Lucille with you?”
+
+“I am afraid,” she answered, “that I have no ropes strong enough.”
+
+“You insinuate,” he remarked, “that Lucille would be unwilling to come.”
+
+“There is no longer any need,” she declared, with a hard little laugh,
+“for insinuations. We have all been turned out from Dorset House
+neck and crop. Lucille has accepted the inevitable. She has gone to
+Reginald’s Brott’s rooms.”
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled.
+
+“Indeed. I have just come from Dorset House myself. The Duke has
+supplied me with a highly entertaining account of his sudden awakening.
+The situation must have been humorous.”
+
+Her eyes twinkled.
+
+“It was really screamingly funny. The Duke had on his house of Lords
+manner, and we all sat round like a lot of naughty children. If only you
+had been there.”
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled. Suddenly she laid her hand upon his arm.
+
+“Victor,” she said, “I have come to prove that I am your friend. You do
+not believe that Lucille is with Reginald Brott. It is true! Not only
+that, but she is leaving England with him to-night. The man’s devotion
+is irresistible--he has been gaining on her slowly but surely all the
+time.”
+
+“I have noticed,” Mr. Sabin remarked calmly, “that he has been
+wonderfully assiduous. I am sure I congratulate him upon his success, if
+he has succeeded.”
+
+“You doubt my word of course,” she said. “But I have not come here to
+tell you things. I have come to prove them. I presume that what you see
+with your own eyes will be sufficient.”
+
+Mr. Sabin shook his head.
+
+“Certainly not,” he answered. “I make it a rule to believe nothing that
+I see, and never to trust my ears.”
+
+She stamped her foot lightly upon the floor.
+
+“How impossible you are,” she exclaimed. “I can tell you by what train
+Lucille and Reginald Brott will leave London to-night. I can tell you
+why Lucille is bound to go.”
+
+“Now,” Mr. Sabin said, “you are beginning to get interesting.”
+
+“Lucille must go--or run the risk of arrest for complicity in the murder
+of Duson.”
+
+“Are you serious?” Mr. Sabin asked, with admirably assumed gravity.
+
+“Is it a jesting matter?” she answered fiercely. “Lucille bought poison,
+the same poison which it will be proved that Duson died of. She came
+here, she was the last person to enter your room before Duson was found
+dead. The police are even now searching for her. Escape is her only
+chance.”
+
+“Dear me,” Mr. Sabin said. “Then it is not only for Brott’s sake that
+she is running away.”
+
+“What does that matter? She is going, and she is going with him.”
+
+“And why,” he asked, “do you come to give me warning? I have plenty of
+time to interpose.”
+
+“You can try if you will. Lucille is in hiding. She will not see you if
+you go to her. She is determined. Indeed, she has no choice. Lucille is
+a brave woman in many ways, but you know that she fears death. She is in
+a corner. She is forced to go.”
+
+“Again,” he said, “I feel that I must ask you why do you give me
+warning?”
+
+She came and stood close to him.
+
+“Perhaps,” she said earnestly, “I am anxious to earn your gratitude.
+Perhaps, too, I know that no interposition of yours would be of any
+avail.”
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled.
+
+“Still,” he said, “I do not think that it is wise of you. I might appear
+at the station and forcibly prevent Lucille’s departure. After all, she
+is my wife, you know.”
+
+She shrugged her shoulders.
+
+“I am not afraid,” she said. “You will make inquiries when I have gone,
+and you will find out that I have spoken the truth. If you keep Lucille
+in England you will expose her to a terrible risk. It is not like you to
+be selfish. You will yield to necessity.”
+
+“Will you tell me where Lucille is now?” he asked.
+
+“For your own sake and hers, no,” she answered. “You also are watched.
+Besides, it is too late. She was with Brott half an hour after the Duke
+turned us out of Dorset House. Don’t you understand, Victor--won’t you?
+It is too late.”
+
+He sat down heavily in his easy-chair. His whole appearance was one of
+absolute dejection.
+
+“So I am to be left alone in my old age,” he murmured. “You have your
+revenge now at last. You have come to take it.”
+
+She sank on her knees by the side of his chair, and her arms fell upon
+his shoulders.
+
+“How can you think so cruelly of me, Victor,” she murmured. “You were
+always a little mistaken in Lucille. She loved you, it is true, but all
+her life she has been fond of change and excitement. She came to Europe
+willingly--long before this Brott would have been her slave save for
+your reappearance. Can’t you forget her--for a little while?”
+
+Mr. Sabin sat quite still. Her hair brushed his cheeks, her arms were
+about his neck, her whole attitude was an invitation for his embrace.
+But he sat like a figure of stone, neither repulsing nor encouraging
+her.
+
+“You need not be alone unless you like,” she whispered.
+
+“I am an old man,” he said slowly, “and this is a hard blow for me to
+bear. I must be sure, absolutely sure that she has gone.”
+
+“By this time to-morrow,” she murmured, “all the world will know it.”
+
+“Come to me then,” he said. “I shall need consolation.”
+
+Her eyes were bright with triumph. She leaned over him and kissed him on
+the lips. Then she sprang lightly to her feet.
+
+“Wait here for me,” she said, “and I will come to you. You shall know,
+Victor, that Lucille is not the only woman in the world who has cared
+for you.”
+
+There was a tap at the door. Lady Carey was busy adjusting her hat.
+Passmore entered, and stood hesitating upon the threshold. Mr. Sabin had
+risen to his feet. He took one of her hands and raised it to his lips.
+She gave him a swift, wonderful look and passed out.
+
+Mr. Sabin’s manner changed as though by magic. He was at once alert and
+vigorous.
+
+“My dear Passmore,” he said, “come to the table. We shall want those
+Continental time-tables and the London A.B.C. You will have to take a
+journey to-night.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVIII
+
+The two women were alone in the morning-room of Lady Carey’s house in
+Pont Street. Lucille was walking restlessly up and down twisting her
+handkerchief between her fingers. Lady Carey was watching her, more
+composed, to all outward appearance, but with closely compressed lips,
+and boding gleam in her eyes.
+
+“I think,” Lady Carey said, “that you had better see him.”
+
+Lucille turned almost fiercely upon her.
+
+“And why?”
+
+“Well, for one thing he will not understand your refusal. He may be
+suspicious.”
+
+“What does it matter? I have finished with him. I have done all that I
+pledged myself to. What more can be expected of me? I do not wish to see
+him again.”
+
+Lady Carey laughed.
+
+“At least,” she said, “I think that the poor man has a right to
+receive his congé from you. You cannot break with him without a word of
+explanation. Perhaps--you may not find it so easy as it seems.”
+
+Lucille swept around.
+
+“What do you mean?”
+
+Lady Carey shrugged her shoulders.
+
+“You are in a curious mood, my dear Lucille. What I mean is obvious
+enough. Brott is a strong man and a determined man. I do not think that
+he will enjoy being made a fool of.”
+
+Lucille was indifferent.
+
+“At any rate,” she said, “I shall not see him. I have quite made up my
+mind about that.”
+
+“And why not, Countess?” a deep voice asked from the threshold. “What
+have I done? May I not at least know my fault?”
+
+Lady Carey rose and moved towards the door.
+
+“You shall have it out between yourselves,” she declared, looking up,
+and nodding at Brott as she passed. “Don’t fight!”
+
+“Muriel!”
+
+The cry was imperative, but Lady Carey had gone. Mr. Brott closed the
+door behind him and confronted Lucille. A brilliant spot of colour
+flared in her pale cheeks.
+
+“But this is a trap!” she exclaimed. “Who sent for you? Why did you
+come?”
+
+He looked at her in surprise.
+
+“Lucille!”
+
+His eyes were full of passionate remonstrance. She looked nervously from
+him towards the door. He intercepted her glance.
+
+“What have I done?” he asked fiercely. “What have I failed to do? Why
+do you look as though I had forced myself upon you? Haven’t I the right?
+Don’t you wish to see me?”
+
+In Brott’s face and tone was all the passionate strenuousness of a great
+crisis. Lucille felt suddenly helpless before the directness of his
+gaze, his storm of questions. In all their former intercourse it had
+been she who by virtue of her sex and his blind love for her had kept
+the upper hand. And now the position was changed. All sorts of feeble
+explanations, of appeals to him, occurred to her dimly, only to
+be rejected by reason of their ridiculous inadequacy. She was
+silent-abjectly silent.
+
+He came a little closer to her, and the strength of the man was manifest
+in his intense self-restraint. His words were measured, his tone quiet.
+Yet both somehow gave evidence of the smouldering fires beneath.
+
+“Lucille,” he said, “I find you hard to understand to-day. You have
+made me your slave, you came once more into my life at its most critical
+moment, and for your sake I have betrayed a great trust. My conscience,
+my faith, and although that counts for little, my political career, were
+in the balance against my love for you. You know which conquered. At
+your bidding I have made myself the jest of every man who buys the
+halfpenny paper and calls himself a politician. My friends heap abuse
+upon me, my enemies derision. I cannot hold my position in this new
+Cabinet. I had gone too far for compromise. I wonder if you quite
+understand what has happened?”
+
+“Oh, I have heard too much,” she cried. “Spare me the rest.”
+
+He continued as though he had not heard her.
+
+“Men who have been my intimate associates for many years, and whose
+friendship was dear to me, cross the road to avoid: meeting me, day by
+day I am besieged with visitors and letters from the suffering people
+to whom my word had been pledged, imploring me for some explanation, for
+one word of denial. Life has become a hell for me, a pestilent, militant
+hell! Yet, Lucille, unless you break faith with me I make no complaint.
+I am content.”
+
+“I am very sorry,” she said. “I do not think that you have properly
+understood me. I have never made you any promise.”
+
+For a moment he lost control of himself. She shrank back at the blaze
+of indignation, half scornful, half incredulous, which lit up his clear,
+grey eyes.
+
+“It is a lie!” he answered. “Between you and me it can be no question
+of words. You were always very careful of your pledges, but there are
+limits even to your caution--as to my forbearance. A woman does not ask
+a man who is pleading to her for her love to give up everything else
+he cares for in life without hope of reward. It is monstrous! I never
+sought you under false pretenses. I never asked you for your friendship.
+I wanted you. I told you so plainly. You won’t deny that you gave me
+hope--encouraged me? You can’t even deny that I am within my rights if I
+claim now at this instant the reward for my apostasy.”
+
+Her hands were suddenly locked in his. She felt herself being drawn into
+his arms. With a desperate effort she avoided his embrace. He still held
+her left wrist, and his face was dark with passion.
+
+“Let me go!” she pleaded.
+
+“Not I!” he answered, with an odd, choked little laugh. “You belong to
+me. I have paid the price. I, too, am amongst the long list of those
+poor fools who have sold their gods and their honour for a woman’s kiss.
+But I will not be left wholly destitute. You shall pay me for what I
+have lost.”
+
+“Oh, you are mad!” she answered. “How could you have deceived yourself
+so? Don’t you know that my husband is in London?”
+
+“The man who calls himself Mr. Sabin?” he answered roughly. “What has
+that to do with it? You are living apart. Saxe Leinitzer and the Duchess
+have both told me the history of your married life. Or is the whole
+thing a monstrous lie?” he cried, with a sudden dawning sense of the
+truth. “Nonsense! I won’t believe it. Lucille! You’re not afraid! I
+shall be good to you. You don’t doubt that. Sabin will divorce you of
+course. You won’t lose your friends. I--”
+
+There was a sudden loud tapping at the door. Brott dropped her wrist
+and turned round with an exclamation of anger. To Lucille it was a
+Heaven-sent interposition. The Prince entered, pale, and with signs of
+hurry and disorder about his usually immaculate person.
+
+“You are both here,” he exclaimed. “Good! Lucille, I must speak with you
+urgently in five minutes. Brott, come this way with me.”
+
+Lucille sank into a chair with a little murmur of relief. The Prince led
+Brott into another room, and closed the door carefully behind him.
+
+“Mr. Brott,” he said, “can I speak to you as a friend of Lucille’s?”
+
+Brott, who distrusted the Prince, looked him steadily in the face. Saxe
+Leinitzer’s agitation was too apparent to be wholly assumed. He had all
+the appearance of being a man desperately in earnest.
+
+“I have always considered myself one,” Brott answered. “I am
+beginning to doubt, however, whether the Countess holds me in the same
+estimation.”
+
+“You found her hysterical, unreasonable, overwrought!” the Prince
+exclaimed. “That is so, eh?”
+
+The Prince drew a long breath.
+
+“Brott,” he said, “I am forced to confide in you. Lucille is in terrible
+danger. I am not sure that there is anybody who can effectually help
+her but you. Are you prepared to make a great sacrifice for her sake--to
+leave England at once, to take her to the uttermost part of the world?”
+
+Brott’s eyes were suddenly bright. The Prince quailed before the
+fierceness of his gaze.
+
+“She would not go!” he exclaimed sharply.
+
+“She will,” the Prince answered. “She must! Not only that, but you will
+earn her eternal gratitude. Listen, I must tell you the predicament in
+which we find ourselves. It places Lucille’s life in your hands.”
+
+“What?”
+
+The exclamation came like a pistol shot. The Prince held up his hand.
+
+“Do not interrupt. Let me speak. Every moment is very valuable. You
+heard without doubt of the sudden death at the Carlton Hotel. It took
+place in Mr. Sabin’s sitting-room. The victim was Mr. Sabin’s servant.
+The inquest was this afternoon. The verdict was death from the effect
+of poison. The police are hot upon the case. There was no evidence as
+to the person by whom the poison was administered, but by a hideous
+combination of circumstances one person before many hours have passed
+will be under the surveillance of the police.”
+
+“And that person?” Brott asked.
+
+The Prince looked round and lowered his voice, although the room was
+empty.
+
+“Lucille,” he whispered hoarsely.
+
+Brott stepped backwards as though he were shot.
+
+“What damned folly!” he exclaimed.
+
+“It is possible that you may not think so directly,” Saxe Leinitzer
+continued. “The day it happened Lucille bought this same poison, and it
+is a rare one, from a man who has absconded. An hour before this man was
+found dead, she called at the hotel, left no name, but went upstairs
+to Mr. Sabin’s room, and was alone there for five minutes, The man died
+from a single grain of poison which had been introduced into Mr. Sabin’s
+special liqueur glass, out of which he was accustomed to drink three or
+four times a day. All these are absolute facts, which at any moment may
+be discovered by the police. Added to that she is living apart from her
+husband, and is known to be on bad terms with him.”
+
+Brott as gripping the back of a chair. He was white to the lips.
+
+“You don’t think,” he cried hoarsely. “You can’t believe--”
+
+“No” the Prince answered quickly, “I don’t believe anything of the sort.
+I will tell you as man to man that I believe she wished Mr. Sabin dead.
+You yourself should know why. But no, I don’t believe she went so far
+as that. It was an accident. But what we have to do is to save her. Will
+you help?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“She must cross to the Continent to-night before the police get on the
+scent. Afterwards she must double back to Havre and take the Bordlaise
+for New York on Saturday. Once there I can guarantee her protection.”
+
+“Well?”
+
+“She cannot go alone.”
+
+“You mean that I should go with her?”
+
+“Yes! Get her right away, and I will employ special detectives and have
+the matter cleared up, if ever it can be. But if she remains here I
+fear that nothing can save her from the horror of an arrest, even if
+afterwards we are able to save her. You yourself risk much, Brott. The
+only question that remains is, will you do it?”
+
+“At her bidding--yes!” Brott declared.
+
+“Wait here,” the Prince answered.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIX
+
+Saxe Leinitzer returned to the morning-room, and taking the key from his
+pocket unlocked the door. Inside Lucille was pale with fury.
+
+“What! I am a prisoner, then!” she exclaimed. “How dare you lock me
+in? This is not your house. Let me pass! I am tired of all this stupid
+espionage.”
+
+The Prince stood with his back to the door.
+
+“It is for your own sake, Lucille. The house is watched.”
+
+She sank into a low chair, trembling. The Prince had all the appearance
+of a man himself seriously disturbed.
+
+“Lucille,” he said, “we will do what we can for you. The whole thing is
+horribly unfortunate. You must leave England to-night. Muriel will go
+with you. Her presence will help to divert suspicion. Once you can
+reach Paris I can assure you of safety. But in this country I am almost
+powerless.”
+
+“I must see Victor,” she said in a low tone. “I will not go without.”
+
+The Prince nodded.
+
+“I have thought of that. There is no reason, Lucille, why he should not
+be the one to lead you into safety.”
+
+“You mean that?” she cried.
+
+“I mean it,” the Prince answered. “After what has happened you are of
+course of no further use to us. I am inclined to think, too, that we
+have been somewhat exacting. I will send a messenger to Souspennier to
+meet you at Charing Cross to-night.”
+
+She sprang up.
+
+“Let me write it myself.”
+
+“Very well,” he agreed, with a shrug of the shoulders. “But do not
+address or sign it. There is danger in any communication between you.”
+
+She took a sheet of note-paper and hastily wrote a few words.
+
+“I have need of your help. Will you be at Charing Cross at twelve
+o’clock prepared for a journey.--Lucille.”
+
+The Prince took the letter from her and hastily folded it up.
+
+“I will deliver it myself,” he announced. “It will perhaps be safest.
+Until I return, Lucille, do not stir from the house or see any one.
+Muriel has given the servants orders to admit no one. All your life,” he
+added, after a moment’s pause, “you have been a little cruel to me,
+and this time also. I shall pray that you will relent before our next
+meeting.”
+
+She rose to her feet and looked him full in the face. She seemed to be
+following out her own train of thought rather than taking note of his
+words.
+
+“Even now,” she said thoughtfully, “I am not sure that I can trust you.
+I have a good mind to fight or scream my way out of this house, and go
+myself to see Victor.”
+
+He shrugged his shoulders.
+
+“The fighting or the screaming will not be necessary, dear Countess,” he
+said. “The doors are open to you. But it is as clear as day that if
+you go to the hotel or near it you will at once be recognised, and
+recognition means arrest. There is a limit beyond which one cannot help
+a wilful woman. Take your life in your hands and go your own way, or
+trust in us who are doing our best to save you.”
+
+“And what of Reginald Brott?” she asked.
+
+“Brott?” the Prince repeated impatiently. “Who cares what becomes of
+him? You have made him seem a fool, but, Lucille, to tell you the truth,
+I am sorry that we did not leave this country altogether alone. There
+is not the soil for intrigue here, or the possibility. Then, too, the
+police service is too stolid, too inaccessible. And even our friends,
+for whose aid we are here--well, you heard the Duke. The cast-iron Saxon
+idiocy of the man. The aristocracy here are what they call bucolic. It
+is their own fault. They have intermarried with parvenus and Americans
+for generations. They are a race by themselves. We others may shake
+ourselves free from them. I would work in any country of the globe for
+the good of our cause, but never again in England.”
+
+Lucille shivered a little.
+
+“I am not in the humour for argument,” she declared. “If you would earn
+my gratitude take that note to my husband. He is the only man I feel
+sure of--whom I know can protect me.”
+
+The Prince bowed low.
+
+“It is our farewell, Countess,” he said.
+
+“I cannot pretend,” she answered, “to regret it.”
+
+Saxe Leinitzer left the room. There was a peculiar smile upon his lips
+as he crossed the hall. Brott was still awaiting for him.
+
+“Mr. Brott,” he said, “the Countess is, as I feared, too agitated to see
+you again for the present, or any one else. She sends you, however, this
+message.”
+
+He took the folded paper from his waistcoat pocket and handed it to the
+other man. Brott read it through eagerly. His eyes shone.
+
+“She accepts the situation, then?” he exclaimed.
+
+“Precisely! Will you pardon me, my friend, if I venture upon one other
+word. Lucille is not an ordinary woman. She is not in the least like the
+majority of her sex, especially, I might add, amongst us. The fact that
+her husband was living would seriously influence her consideration of
+any other man--as her lover. The present crisis, however, has changed
+everything. I do not think that you will have cause to complain of her
+lack of gratitude.”
+
+Brott walked out into the streets with the half sheet of note-paper
+twisted up between his fingers. For the first time for months he was
+conscious of a distinct and vivid sense of happiness. The terrible
+period of indecision was past. He knew now where he stood. Nor was
+his immediate departure from England altogether unpleasant to him. His
+political career was shattered--friends and enemies were alike cold to
+him. Such an act of cowardice as his, such pitiful shrinking back at the
+last fateful moment, was inexplicable and revolting. Even Letheringham
+was barely civil. It was certain that his place in the Cabinet would be
+intolerable. He yearned for escape from it all, and the means of escape
+were now at hand. In after years he knew very well that the shadow of
+his broken trust, the torture of his misused opportunities, would stand
+for ever between him and the light. But at that moment he was able
+to clear his mind of all such disquieting thoughts. He had won
+Lucille--never mind at what cost, at what peril! He had won Lucille!
+
+He was deeply engrossed, and his name was spoken twice in his ear before
+he turned round. A small, somewhat shabby-looking man, with tired eyes
+and more than a day’s growth of beard upon his chin, had accosted him.
+
+“Mr. Brott, sir. A word with you, please.”
+
+Brott held out his hand. Nevertheless his tone when he spoke lacked
+heartiness.
+
+“You, Hedley! Why, what brings you to London?”
+
+The little man did not seem to see the hand. At any rate he made no
+motion to take it.
+
+“A few minutes’ chat with Mr. Brott. That’s what I’ve come for.”
+
+Brott raised his eyebrows, and nodded in somewhat constrained fashion.
+
+“Well,” he said, “I am on my way to my rooms. We can talk as we go, if
+you like. I am afraid the good people up in your part of the world are
+not too well pleased with me.”
+
+The little man smiled rather queerly.
+
+“That is quite true,” he answered calmly. “They hate a liar and a
+turn-coat. So do I!”
+
+Brott stopped short upon the pavement.
+
+“If you are going to talk like that to me, Hedley,” he said, “the less
+you have to say the better.”
+
+The man nodded.
+
+“Very well,” he said. “What I have to say won’t take me very long. But
+as I’ve tramped most of the way up here to say it, you’ll have to listen
+here or somewhere else. I thought you were always one who liked the
+truth.”
+
+“So I do!” Brott answered. “Go on!”
+
+The man shuffled along by his side. They were an odd-looking pair, for
+Brott was rather a careful man as regards his toilet, and his companion
+looked little better than a tramp.
+
+“All my life,” he continued, “I’ve been called ‘Mad Hedley,’ or ‘Hedley,
+the mad tailor.’ Sometimes one and sometimes the other. It don’t matter
+which. There’s truth in, it. I am a bit mad. You, Mr. Brott, were one
+of those who understood me a little. I have brooded a good deal perhaps,
+and things have got muddled up in my brain. You know what has been at
+the bottom of it all.
+
+“I began making speeches when I was a boy. People laughed at me, but
+I’ve set many a one a-thinking. I’m no anarchist, although people call
+me one. I’ll admit that I admire the men who set the French Revolution
+going. If such a thing happened in this country I’d be one of the first
+to join in. But I’ve never had a taste for bloodshed. I’d rather the
+thing had been done without. From the first you seemed to be the man who
+might have brought it about. We listened to you, we watched your career,
+and we began to have hopes. Mr. Brott, the bodies and souls of millions
+of your fellow-creatures were in the hollow of your hand. It was you
+who might have set them free. It was you who might have made this the
+greatest, the freest, the happiest country in the world. Not so much for
+us perhaps as for our children, and our children’s children. We didn’t
+expect a huge social upheaval in a week, or even a decade of years. But
+we did expect to see the first blow struck. Oh, yes, we expected that.”
+
+“I have disappointed you, I know, you and many others,” Brott said
+bitterly. “I wish I could explain. But I can’t!”
+
+“Oh, it doesn’t matter,” the man answered. “You have broken the hearts
+of thousands of suffering men and women--you who might have led them
+into the light, have forged another bolt in the bars which stand between
+them and liberty. So they must live on in the darkness, dull, dumb
+creatures with just spirit enough to spit and curse at the sound of your
+name. It was the greatest trust God ever placed in one man’s hand--and
+you--you abused it. They were afraid of you--the aristocrats, and they
+bought you. Oh, we are not blind up there--there are newspapers in our
+public houses, and now and then one can afford a half-penny. We have
+read of you at their parties and their dances. Quite one of them you
+have become, haven’t you? But, Mr. Brott, have you never been afraid?
+Have you never said to yourself, there is justice in the earth? Suppose
+it finds me out?”
+
+“Hedley, you are talking rubbish,” Brott said. “Up here you would see
+things with different eyes. Letheringham is pledged.”
+
+“If any man ever earned hell,” Hedley continued, “it is you, Brott,
+you who came to us a deliverer, and turned out to be a lying prophet.
+‘Hell,’” he repeated fiercely, “and may you find it swiftly.”
+
+The man’s right hand came out of his long pocket. They were in the thick
+of Piccadilly, but his action was too swift for any interference. Four
+reports rang suddenly out, and the muzzle of the revolver was held
+deliberately within an inch or so of Brett’s heart. And before even
+the nearest of the bystanders could realise what had happened Brott lay
+across the pavement a dead man, and Hedley was calmly handing over the
+revolver to a policeman who had sprang across the street.
+
+“Be careful, officer,” he said, “there are still two chambers loaded.
+I will come with you quite quietly. That is Mr. Reginald Brott, the
+Cabinet Minister, and I have killed him.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XL
+
+“For once,” Lady Carey said, with a faint smile, “your ‘admirable
+Crichton’ has failed you.”
+
+Lucille opened her eyes. She had been leaning back amongst the railway
+cushions.
+
+“I think not,” she said. “Only I blame myself that I ever trusted the
+Prince even so far as to give him that message. For I know very well
+that if Victor had received it he would have been here.”
+
+Lady Carey took up a great pile of papers and looked them carelessly
+through.
+
+“I am afraid,” she said, “that I do not agree with you. I do not think
+that Saxe Leinitzer had any desire except to see you safely away. I
+believe that he will be quite as disappointed as you are that your
+husband is not here to aid you. Some one must see you safely on the
+steamer at Havre. Perhaps he will come himself.”
+
+“I shall wait in Paris,” Lucille said quietly, “for my husband.”
+
+“You may wait,” Lady Carey said, “for a very long time.”
+
+Lucille looked at her steadily. “What do you mean?”
+
+“What a fool you are, Lucille. If to other people it seems almost
+certain on the face of it that you were responsible for that drop of
+poison in your husband’s liqueur glass, why should it not seem so to
+himself?”
+
+Lucille laughed, but there was a look of horror in her dark eyes.
+
+“How absurd. I know Victor better than to believe him capable of such a
+suspicion. Just as he knows me better than to believe me capable of such
+an act.”
+
+“Really. But you were in his rooms secretly just before.”
+
+“I went to leave some roses for him,” Lucille answered. “And if you
+would like to know it, I will tell you this. I left my card tied to them
+with a message for him.”
+
+Lady Carey yawned.
+
+“A remarkably foolish thing to do,” she said. “That may cause you
+trouble later on. Great heavens, what is this?”
+
+She held the evening paper open in her hand. Lucille leaned over with
+blanched face.
+
+“What has happened?” she cried. “Tell me, can’t you!”
+
+“Reginald Brott has been shot in Piccadilly,” Lady Carey said.
+
+“Is he hurt?” Lucille asked.
+
+“He is dead!”
+
+They read the brief announcement together. The deed had been committed
+by a man whose reputation for sanity had long been questioned, one of
+Brott’s own constituents. He was in custody, and freely admitted his
+guilt. The two women looked at one another in horror. Even Lady Carey
+was affected.
+
+“What a hateful thing,” she said. “I am glad that we had no hand in it.”
+
+“Are you so sure that we hadn’t?” Lucille asked bitterly. “You see what
+it says. The man killed him because of his political apostasy. We had
+something to do with that at least.”
+
+Lady Carey was recovering her sang froid.
+
+“Oh, well,” she said, “indirect influences scarcely count, or one might
+trace the causes of everything which happens back to an absurd extent.
+If this man was mad he might just as well have shot Brott for anything.”
+
+Lucille made no answer. She leaned back and closed her eyes. She did not
+speak again till they reached Dover.
+
+They embarked in the drizzling rain. Lady Carey drew a little breath of
+relief as they reached their cabin, and felt the boat move beneath them.
+
+“Thank goodness that we are really off. I have been horribly nervous all
+the time. If they let you leave England they can have no suspicion as
+yet.”
+
+Lucille was putting on an ulster and cap to go out on deck.
+
+“I am not at all sure,” she said, “that I shall not return to England.
+At any rate, if Victor does not come to me in Paris I shall go to him.”
+
+“What beautiful trust!” Lady Carey answered. “My dear Lucille, you are
+more like a school-girl than a woman of the world.”
+
+
+A steward entered with a telegram for Lucille. It was banded in at the
+Haymarket, an hour before their departure. Lucille read it, and her face
+blanched. “I thank you for your invitation, but I fear that it would not
+be good for my health.--S.”
+
+Lady Carey looked over her shoulder. She laughed hardly.
+
+“How brutal!” she murmured. “But, then, Victor can be brutal sometimes,
+can’t he?”
+
+Lucille tore it into small pieces without a word. Lady Carey waited for
+a remark from her in vain.
+
+“I, too,” she said at last, “have had some telegrams. I have been
+hesitating whether to show them to you or not. Perhaps you had better
+see them.”
+
+She produced them and spread them out. The first was dated about the
+same time as the one Lucille had received.
+
+“Have seen S. with message from Lucille. Fear quite useless, as he
+believes worst.”
+
+The second was a little longer.
+
+“Have just heard S. has left for Liverpool, and has engaged berth in
+Campania, sailing to-morrow. Break news to Lucille if you think well.
+Have wired him begging return, and promising full explanation.”
+
+“If these,” Lucille said calmly, “belonged to me I should treat them as
+I have my own.”
+
+“What do you mean?”
+
+“I should tear them up.”
+
+Lady Carey shrugged her shoulders with the air of one who finds further
+argument hopeless.
+
+“I shall have no more to say to you, Lucille, on this subject,” she
+said. “You are impossible. In a few days you will be forced to come
+round to my point of view. I will wait till then. And in the meantime,
+if you think I am going to tramp up and down those sloppy decks and gaze
+at the sea you are very much mistaken. I am going to lie down like a
+civilized being, and try and get a nap. You had better do the same.”
+
+Lucille laughed.
+
+“For my part,” she said, “I find any part of the steamer except the deck
+intolerable. I am going now in search of some fresh air. Shall I send
+your woman along?”
+
+Lady Carey nodded, for just then the steamer gave a violent lurch, and
+she was not feeling talkative. Lucille went outside and walked up and
+down until the lights of Calais were in sight. All the time she felt
+conscious of the observation of a small man clad in a huge mackintosh,
+whose peaked cap completely obscured his features. As they were entering
+the harbour she purposely stood by his side. He held on to the rail with
+one hand and turned towards her.
+
+“It has been quite a rough passage, has it not?” he remarked.
+
+She nodded.
+
+“I have crossed,” she said, “when it has been much worse. I do not mind
+so long as one may come on deck.”
+
+“Your friend,” he remarked, “is perhaps not so good a sailor?”
+
+“I believe,” Lucille said, “that she suffers a great deal. I just looked
+in at her, and she was certainly uncomfortable.”
+
+The little man gripped the rail and held on to his cap with the other
+hand.
+
+“You are going to Paris?” he asked.
+
+Lucille nodded.
+
+“Yes.”
+
+They were in smoother water now. He was able to relax his grip of the
+rail. He turned towards Lucille, and she saw him for the first time
+distinctly--a thin, wizened-up little man, with shrewd kindly eyes, and
+a long deeply cut mouth.
+
+“I trust,” he said, “that you will not think me impertinent, but it
+occurred to me that you have noticed some apparent interest of mine in
+your movements since you arrived on the boat.”
+
+Lucille nodded.
+
+“It is true,” she answered. “That is why I came and stood by your side.
+What do you want with me?”
+
+“Nothing, madam,” he answered. “I am here altogether in your interests.
+If you should want help I shall be somewhere near you for the next few
+hours. Do not hesitate to appeal to me. My mission here is to be your
+protector should you need one.”
+
+Lucille’s eyes grew bright, and her heart beat quickly.
+
+“Tell me,” she said, “who sent you?”
+
+He smiled.
+
+“I think that you know,” he answered. “One who I can assure you will
+never allow you to suffer any harm. I have exceeded my instructions in
+speaking to you, but I fancied that you were looking worried. You need
+not. I can assure you that you need have no cause.”
+
+Her eyes filled with tears.
+
+“I knew,” she said, “that those telegrams were forgeries.”
+
+He looked carefully around.
+
+“I know nothing about any telegrams,” he said, “but I am here to see
+that no harm comes to you, and I promise you that it shall not. Your
+friend is looking out of the cabin door. I think we may congratulate
+ourselves, madam, on an excellent passage.”
+
+Lady Carey disembarked, a complete wreck, leaning on the arm of her
+maid, and with a bottle of smelling salts clutched in her hand. She
+slept all the way in the train, and only woke up when they were nearing
+Paris. She looked at Lucille in astonishment.
+
+“Why, what on earth have you been doing to yourself?” she exclaimed.
+“You look disgustingly fit and well.”
+
+Lucille laughed softly.
+
+“Why not? I have had a nap, and we are almost at Paris. I only want a
+bath and a change of clothes to feel perfectly fresh.”
+
+But Lady Carey was suspicious.
+
+“Have you seen any one you know upon the train?” she asked.
+
+Lucille shook her head.
+
+“Not a soul. A little man whom I spoke to on the steamer brought me some
+coffee. That is all.”
+
+Lady Carey yawned and shook out her skirts. “I suppose I’m getting old,”
+ she said. “I couldn’t look as you do with as much on my mind as you must
+have, and after traveling all night too.”
+
+Lucille laughed.
+
+“After all,” she said, “you know that I am a professional optimist, and
+I have faith in my luck. I have been thinking matters over calmly, and,
+to tell you the truth, I am not in the least alarmed.”
+
+Lady Carey looked at her curiously.
+
+“Has the optimism been imbibed,” she asked, “or is it spontaneous?”
+
+Lucille smiled.
+
+“Unless the little man in the plaid mackintosh poured it into the coffee
+with the milk,” she said, “I could not possibly have imbibed it, for I
+haven’t spoken to another soul since we left.”
+
+“Paris! Here we are, thank goodness. Celeste can see the things through
+the customs. She is quite used to it. We are going to the Ritz, I
+suppose!”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLI
+
+At eight o’clock in the evening Lucille knocked at the door of Lady
+Carey’s suite of rooms at the hotel. There was no answer. A chambermaid
+who was near came smiling up.
+
+“Miladi has, I think, descended for dinner,” she said.
+
+Lucille looked at her watch. She saw that she was a few minutes late, so
+she descended to the restaurant. The small table which they had reserved
+was, however, still unoccupied. Lucille told the waiter that she would
+wait for a few moments, and sent for an English newspaper.
+
+Lady Carey did not appear. A quarter of an hour passed. The head waiter
+came up with a benign smile.
+
+“Madam will please to be served?” he suggested, with a bow.
+
+“I am waiting for my friend Lady Carey,” Lucille answered. “I understood
+that she had come down. Perhaps you will send and see if she is in the
+reading-room.”
+
+“With much pleasure, madam,” the man answered.
+
+In a few minutes he returned.
+
+“Madam’s friend was the Lady Carey?” he asked.
+
+Lucille nodded.
+
+The man was gently troubled.
+
+“But, Miladi Carey,” he said, “has left more than an hour ago.”
+
+Lucille looked up, astonished.
+
+“Left the hotel?” she exclaimed.
+
+“But yes, madam,” he exclaimed. “Miladi Carey left to catch the boat
+train at Calais for England.”
+
+“It is impossible,” Lucille answered. “We only arrived at midday.”
+
+“I will inquire again,” the man declared. “But it was in the office that
+they told me so.”
+
+“They told you quite correctly,” said a familiar voice. “I have come
+to take her place. Countess, I trust that in me you will recognise an
+efficient substitute.”
+
+It was the Prince of Saxe Leinitzer who was calmly seating himself
+opposite to her. The waiter, with the discretion of his class, withdrew
+for a few paces and stood awaiting orders. Lucille looked across at him
+in amazement.
+
+“You here?” she exclaimed, “and Muriel gone? What does this mean?”
+
+The Prince leaned forward.
+
+“It means,” he said, “that after you left I was in torment. I felt that
+you had no one with you who could be of assistance supposing the worst
+happened. Muriel is all very well, but she is a woman, and she has no
+diplomacy, no resource. I felt, Lucille, that I should not be happy
+unless I myself saw you into safety.”
+
+“So you followed us here,” Lucille remarked quietly.
+
+“Exactly! You do not blame me. It was for your sake--as well as my own.”
+
+“And Muriel--why has she left me without farewell--without warning of
+any sort?”
+
+The Prince smiled and stroked his fair moustache.
+
+“Well,” he said, “it is rather an awkward thing for me to explain, but
+to tell you the truth, Muriel was a little--more than a little--annoyed
+at my coming. She has no right to be, but--well, you know, she is what
+you call a monopolist. She and I have been friends for many years.”
+
+“I understand perfectly what you have wished to convey,” Lucille said.
+“But what I do not understand are the exact reasons which brought you
+here.”
+
+The Prince took up the carte de jour.
+
+“As we dine,” he said, “I will tell you. You will permit me to order?”
+
+Lucille rose to her feet.
+
+“For yourself, certainly,” she answered. “As for me, I have accepted no
+invitation to dine with you, nor do I propose to do so.”
+
+The Prince frowned.
+
+“Be reasonable, Lucille,” he pleaded. “I must talk with you. There
+are important plans to be made. I have a great deal to say to you. Sit
+down.”
+
+Lucille looked across at him with a curious smile upon her lips.
+
+“You have a good deal to say to me?” she remarked. “Yes, I will believe
+that. But of the truth how much, I wonder?”
+
+“By and bye,” he said, “you will judge me differently. For hors
+d’oeuvres what do you say to oeufs de pluvier? Then--”
+
+“Pardon me,” she interrupted, “I am not interested in your dinner!”
+
+“In our dinner,” he ventured gently.
+
+“I am not dining with you,” she declared firmly. “If you insist upon
+remaining here I shall have something served in my room. You know quite
+well that we are certain to be recognised. One would imagine that this
+was a deliberate attempt on your part to compromise me.”
+
+“Lucille,” he said, “do not be foolish! Why do you persist in treating
+me as though I were your persecutor?”
+
+“Because you are,” she said coolly.
+
+“It is ridiculous,” he declared. “You are in the most serious danger,
+and I have come only to save you. I can do it, and I will. But
+listen--not unless you change your demeanour towards me.”
+
+She laughed scornfully. She had risen to her feet now, and he was
+perforce compelled to follow her example.
+
+“Is that a challenge?” she asked.
+
+“You may take it as such if you will,” he answered, with a note of
+sullenness in his tone. “You know very well that I have but to lift my
+finger and the gendarmes will be here. Yes, we will call it a challenge.
+All my life I have wanted you. Now I think that my time has come. Even
+Souspennier has deserted you. You are alone, and let me tell you that
+danger is closer at your heels than you know of. I can save you, and I
+will. But I have a price, and it must be paid.”
+
+“If I refuse?” she asked.
+
+“I send for the chief of the police.”
+
+She looked him up and down, a measured, merciless survey. He was a tall,
+big man, but he seemed to shrink into insignificance.
+
+“You are a coward and a bully,” she said slowly. “You know quite well
+that I am innocent of any knowledge even concerning Duson’s death. But
+I would sooner meet my fate, whatever it might be, than suffer even the
+touch of your fingers upon my hand. Your presence is hateful to me. Send
+for your chief of the police. String your lies together as you will. I
+am satisfied.”
+
+She left him and swept from the room, a spot of colour burning in her
+cheeks, her eyes lit with fire. The pride of her race had asserted
+itself. She felt no longer any fear. She only desired to sever herself
+at once and completely from all association with this man. In the hall
+she sent for her maid.
+
+“Fetch my cloak and jewel case, Celeste,” she ordered. “I am going
+across to the Bristol. You can return for the other luggage.”
+
+“But, madam--”
+
+“Do as I say at once,” Lucille ordered.
+
+The girl hesitated and then obeyed. Lucille found herself suddenly
+addressed in a quiet tone by a man who had been sitting in an
+easy-chair, half hidden by a palm tree.
+
+“Will you favour me, madam, with a moment’s conversation?”
+
+Lucille turned round. She recognised at once the man with whom she had
+conversed upon the steamer. In the quietest form of evening dress, there
+was something noticeable in the man’s very insignificance. He seemed a
+little out of his element. Lucille had a sudden inspiration, The man was
+a detective.
+
+“What do you wish to say?” she asked, half doubtfully.
+
+“I overheard,” he remarked, “your order to your maid. She had something
+to say to you, but you gave her no opportunity.”
+
+“And you?” she asked, “what do you wish to say?”
+
+“I wish to advise you,” he said, “not to leave the hotel.”
+
+She looked at him doubtfully.
+
+“You cannot understand,” she said, “why I wish to leave it. I have no
+alternative.”
+
+“Nevertheless,” he said, “I hope that you will change your mind.”
+
+“Are you a detective?” she asked abruptly.
+
+“Madam is correct!”
+
+The flush of colour faded from her cheeks.
+
+“I presume, then,” she said, “that I am under your surveillance?”
+
+“In a sense,” he admitted, “it is true.”
+
+“On the steamer,” she remarked, “you spoke as though your interest in me
+was not inimical.”
+
+“Nor is it,” he answered promptly. “You are in a difficult position, but
+you may find things not so bad as you imagine. At present my advice to
+you is this: Go upstairs to your room and stay there.”
+
+The little man had a compelling manner. Lucille made her way towards the
+elevator.
+
+“As a matter of fact,” she murmured bitterly, “I am not, I suppose,
+permitted to leave the hotel?”
+
+“Madam puts the matter bluntly,” he answered; “but certainly if you
+should insist upon leaving, it would be my duty to follow you.”
+
+She turned away from him and entered the elevator. The door of her room
+was slightly ajar, and she saw that a waiter was busy at a small round
+table. She looked at him in surprise. He was arranging places for two.
+
+“Who gave you your orders?” she asked.
+
+“But it was monsieur,” the man answered, with a low bow. “Dinner for
+two.”
+
+“Monsieur?” she repeated. “What monsieur?”
+
+“I am the culprit,” a familiar voice answered from the depths of an
+easy-chair, whose back was to her. “I was very hungry, and it occurred
+to me that under the circumstances you would probably not have dined
+either. I hope that you will like what I have ordered. The plovers’ eggs
+look delicious.”
+
+She gave a little cry of joy. It was Mr. Sabin.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLII
+
+The Prince dined carefully, but with less than his usual appetite.
+Afterwards he lit a cigarette and strolled for a moment into the lounge.
+Celeste, who was waiting for him, glided at once to his side.
+
+“Monsieur!” she whispered. “I have been here for one hour.”
+
+He nodded.
+
+“Well?”
+
+“Monsieur le Duc has arrived.”
+
+The Prince turned sharply round.
+
+“Who?”
+
+“Monsieur le Duc de Souspennier. He calls himself no longer Mr. Sabin.”
+
+A dull flush of angry colour rose almost to his temples.
+
+“Why did you not tell me before?” he exclaimed.
+
+“Monsieur was in the restaurant,” she answered. “It was impossible for
+me to do anything but wait.”
+
+“Where is he?”
+
+“Alas! he is with madam,” the girl answered.
+
+The Prince was very profane. He started at once for the elevator. In a
+moment or two he presented himself at Lucille’s sitting-room. They were
+still lingering over their dinner. Mr. Sabin welcomed him with grave
+courtesy.
+
+“The Prince is in time to take his liqueur with us,” he remarked,
+rising. “Will you take fin champagne, Prince, or Chartreuse? I recommend
+the fin champagne.”
+
+The Prince bowed his thanks. He was white to the lips with the effort
+for self-mastery.
+
+“I congratulate you, Mr. Sabin,” he said, “upon your opportune arrival.
+You will be able to help Lucille through the annoyance to which I deeply
+regret that she should be subjected.”
+
+Mr. Sabin gently raised his eyebrows.
+
+“Annoyance!” he repeated. “I fear that I do not quite understand.”
+
+The Prince smiled.
+
+“Surely Lucille has told you,” he said, “of the perilous position in
+which she finds herself.”
+
+“My wife,” Mr. Sabin said, “has told me nothing. You alarm me.”
+
+The Prince shrugged his shoulders.
+
+“I deeply regret to tell you,” he said, “that the law has proved too
+powerful for me. I can no longer stand between her and what I fear may
+prove a most unpleasant episode. Lucille will be arrested within the
+hour.”
+
+“Upon what charge?” Mr. Sabin asked.
+
+“The murder of Duson.”
+
+Mr. Sabin laughed very softly, very gently, but with obvious
+genuineness.
+
+“You are joking, Prince,” he exclaimed.
+
+“I regret to say,” the Prince answered, “that you will find it very far
+from a joking matter.”
+
+Mr. Sabin was suddenly stern.
+
+“Prince of Saxe Leinitzer,” he said, “you are a coward and a bully.”
+
+The Prince started forward with clenched fist. Mr. Sabin had no weapon,
+but he did not flinch.
+
+“You can frighten women,” he said, “with a bogie such as this, but you
+have no longer a woman to deal with. You and I know that such a charge
+is absurd--but you little know the danger to which you expose yourself
+by trifling with this subject. Duson left a letter addressed to me in
+which he announced his reasons for committing suicide.”
+
+“Suicide?”
+
+“Yes. He preferred suicide to murder, even at the bidding of the Prince
+of Saxe Leinitzer. He wrote and explained these things to me--and the
+letter is in safe hands. The arrest of Lucille, my dear Prince, would
+mean the ruin of your amiable society.”
+
+“This letter,” the Prince said slowly, “why was it not produced at the
+inquest? Where is it now?”
+
+“It is deposited in a sealed packet with the Earl of Deringham,” Mr.
+Sabin answered. “As to producing it at the inquest--I thought it more
+discreet not to. I leave you to judge of my reasons. But I can assure
+you that your fears for my wife’s safety have been wholly misplaced.
+There is not the slightest reason for her to hurry off to America. We
+may take a little trip there presently, but not just yet.”
+
+The Prince made a mistake. He lost his temper.
+
+“You!” he cried, “you can go to America when you like, and stay there.
+Europe has had enough of you with your hare-brained schemes and foolish
+failures. But Lucille does not leave this country. We have need of her.
+I forbid her to leave. Do you hear? In the name of the Order I command
+her to remain here.”
+
+Mr. Sabin was quite calm, but his face was full of terrible things.
+
+“Prince,” he said, “if I by any chance numbered myself amongst your
+friends I would warn you that you yourself are a traitor to your Order.
+You prostitute a great cause when you stoop to use its machinery to
+assist your own private vengeance. I ask you for your own sake to
+consider your words. Lucille is mine--mine she will remain, even though
+you should descend to something more despicable, more cowardly than
+ordinary treason, to wrest her from me. You reproach me with the
+failures of my life. Great they may have been, but if you attempt this
+you will find that I am not yet an impotent person.”
+
+The Prince was white with rage. The sight of Lucille standing by Mr.
+Sabin’s side, her hand lightly resting upon his, her dark eyes full of
+inscrutable tenderness, maddened him. He was flouted and ignored. He was
+carried away by a storm of passion. He tore a sheet of paper from his
+pocket book, and unlocking a small gold case at the end of his watch
+chain, shook from it a pencil with yellow crayon. Mr. Sabin leaned over
+towards him.
+
+“You sign it at your peril, Prince,” he said. “It will mean worse things
+than that for you.”
+
+For a second he hesitated. Lucille also leaned towards him.
+
+“Prince,” she said, “have I not kept my vows faithfully? Think! I came
+from America at a moment’s notice; I left my husband without even a word
+of farewell; I entered upon a hateful task, and though to think of it
+now makes me loathe myself--I succeeded. I have kept my vows, I have
+done my duty. Be generous now, and let me go.”
+
+The sound of her voice maddened him. A passionate, arbitrary man, to
+whom nothing in life had been denied, to be baulked in this great desire
+of his latter days was intolerable. He made no answer to either of them.
+He wrote a few lines with the yellow crayon and passed them silently
+across to Lucille.
+
+Her face blanched. She stretched out an unwilling hand. But Mr. Sabin
+intervened. He took the paper from the Prince’s hand, and calmly tore it
+into fragments. There was a moment’s breathless silence.
+
+“Victor!” Lucille cried. “Oh, what have you done!”
+
+The Prince’s face lightened with an evil joy.
+
+“We now, I think,” he said, “understand one another. You will permit me
+to wish you a very pleasant evening, and a speedy leave-taking.”
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled.
+
+“Many thanks, my dear Prince,” he said lightly. “Make haste and complete
+your charming little arrangements. Let me beg of you to avoid bungling
+this time. Remember that there is not in the whole of Europe to-day a
+man more dangerous to you than I.”
+
+The Prince had departed. Mr. Sabin lit a cigarette and stood on the
+hearthrug. His eyes were bright with the joy of fighting.
+
+“Lucille,” he said, “I see that you have not touched your liqueur.
+Oblige me by drinking it. You will find it excellent.”
+
+She came over to him and hung upon his arm. He threw his cigarette away
+and kissed her upon the lips.
+
+“Victor,” she murmured, “I am afraid. You have been rash!”
+
+“Dearest,” he answered, “it is better to die fighting than to stand
+aside and watch evil things. But after all, there is no fear. Come! Your
+cloak and dressing case!”
+
+“You have plans?” she exclaimed, springing up.
+
+“Plans?” He laughed at her a little reproachfully. “My dear Lucille! A
+carriage awaits us outside, a special train with steam up at the Gard de
+L’ouest. This is precisely the contingency for which I have planned.”
+
+“Oh, you are wonderful, Victor,” she murmured as she drew on her coat.
+“But what corner of the earth is there where we should be safe?”
+
+“I am going,” Mr. Sabin said, “to try and make every corner of the earth
+safe.”
+
+She was bewildered, but he only laughed and held open the door for her.
+Mr. Sabin made no secret of his departure. He lingered for a moment in
+the doorway to light a cigarette, he even stopped to whisper a few
+words to the little man in plain dinner clothes who was lounging in the
+doorway. But when they had once left the hotel they drove fast.
+
+In less than half an hour Paris was behind them. They were traveling in
+a royal saloon and at a fabuulous cost, for in France they are not fond
+of special trains. But Mr. Sabin was very happy. At least he had escaped
+an ignominious defeat. It was left to him to play the great card.
+
+“And now,” Lucille said, coming out from her little bed-chamber which
+the femme de chambre was busy preparing, “suppose you tell me where we
+are going.”
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled.
+
+“Do not be alarmed,” he said, “even though it will sound to you the
+least likely place in the world. We are going to Berlin.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIII
+
+The great room was dimly enough lit, for the windows looking out upon
+the street were high and heavily curtained, The man who sat at the desk
+was almost in the shadow. Yet every now and then a shaft of sunlight
+fell across his pale, worn face. A strange combination this of the
+worker, the idealist, the man of affairs. From outside came the hum of
+a great city. At times, too, there came to his ears as he sat here the
+roar of nations at strife, the fierce underneath battle of the great
+countries of the world struggling for supremacy. And here at this
+cabinet this man sat often, and listened, strenuous, romantic, with
+the heart of a lion and the lofty imagination of an eagle, he steered
+unswervingly on to her destiny a great people. Others might rest, but
+never he.
+
+He looked up from the letter spread out before him. Lucille was seated
+at his command, a few yards away. Mr. Sabin stood respectfully before
+him.
+
+“Monsieur le Duc,” he said, “this letter, penned by my illustrious
+father to you, is sufficient to secure my good offices. In what manner
+can I serve you?”
+
+“Your Majesty,” Mr. Sabin answered, “in the first place by receiving me
+here. In the second by allowing me to lay before you certain grave and
+very serious charges against the Order of the Yellow Crayon, of which
+your Majesty is the titular head.”
+
+“The Order of the Yellow Crayon,” the Emperor said thoughtfully,
+“is society composed of aristocrats pledged to resist the march of
+socialism. It is true that I am the titular head of this organisation.
+What have you to say about it?”
+
+“Only that your Majesty has been wholly deceived,” Mr. Sabin said
+respectfully, “concerning the methods and the working of this society.
+Its inception and inauguration were above reproach. I myself at once
+became a member. My wife, Countess of Radantz, and sole representative
+of that ancient family, has been one all her life.”
+
+The Emperor inclined his head towards Lucille.
+
+“I see no reason,” he said, “when our capitals are riddled with secret
+societies, all banded together against us, why the great families of
+Europe should not in their turn come together and display a united front
+against this common enemy. The Order of the Yellow Crayon has had more
+than my support. It has had the sanction of my name. Tell me what you
+have against it.”
+
+“I have grave things to say concerning it,” Mr. Sahin answered, “and
+concerning those who have wilfully deceived your Majesty. The influences
+to be wielded by the society were mainly, I believe, wealth, education,
+and influence. There was no mention made of murder, of an underground
+alliance with the ‘gamins’ of Paris, the dregs of humanity, prisoners,
+men skilled in the art of secret death.”
+
+The Emperor’s tone was stern, almost harsh.
+
+“Duc de Souspennier, what are these things which you are saying?” he
+asked.
+
+“Your Majesty, I speak the truth,” Mr. Sabin answered firmly. “There
+are in the Order of the Yellow Crayon three degrees of membership. The
+first, which alone your Majesty knows of, simply corresponds with
+what in England is known as the Primrose League. The second knows that
+beneath is another organisation pledged to frustrate the advance of
+socialism, if necessary by the use of their own weapons. The third,
+whose meetings and signs and whose whole organisation is carried on
+secretly, is allied in every capital in Europe with criminals and
+murderers. With its great wealth it has influence in America as well
+as in every city of the world where there are police to be suborned,
+or desperate men to be bought for tools. At the direction of this third
+order Lavinski died suddenly in the Hungarian House of Parliament,
+Herr Krettingen was involved in a duel, the result of which was assured
+beforehand, and Reginald Brott, the great English statesman, was ruined
+and disgraced. I myself have just narrowly escaped death at his hands,
+and in my place my servant has been driven to death. Of all these
+things, your Majesty, I have brought proofs.”
+
+The Emperor’s face was like a carven image, but his tone was cold and
+terrible.
+
+“If these things have been sanctioned,” he said, “by those who are
+responsible for my having become the head of the Order; they shall feel
+my vengeance.”
+
+“Your Majesty,” Mr. Sabin said earnestly, “a chance disclosure, and all
+might come to light. I myself could blazon the story through Europe.
+Those who are responsible for the third degree of the Order of
+the Yellow Crayon, and for your Majesty’s ignorance concerning its
+existence, have trifled with the destiny of the greatest sovereign of
+modern times.”
+
+“The Prince of Saxe Leinitzer,” the Emperor said, “is the acting head of
+the Order.”
+
+“The Prince of Saxe Leinitzer,” Mr. Sabin said firmly, “is responsible
+for the existence of the third degree. It is he who has connected the
+society with a system of corrupt police or desperate criminals in every
+great city. It is the Prince of Saxe Leinitzer, your Majesty, and
+his horde of murderers from whom I have come to seek your Majesty’s
+protection. I have yet another charge to make against him. He has made,
+and is making still, use of the society to further his own private
+intrigues. In the name of the Order he brought my wife from America.
+She faithfully carried out the instructions of the Council. She brought
+about the ruin of Reginald Brott. By the rules of the society she was
+free then to return to her home. The Prince, who had been her suitor,
+declined to let her go. My life was attempted. The story of the Prince’s
+treason is here, with the necessary proofs. I know that orders have been
+given to the hired murderers of the society for my assassination. My
+life even here is probably an uncertain thing. But I have told your
+Majesty the truth, and the papers which I have brought with me contain
+proof of my words.”
+
+The Emperor struck a bell and gave a few orders to the young officer who
+immediately answered it. Then he turned again to Mr. Sabin.
+
+“I have summoned Saxe Leinitzer to Berlin,” he said. “These matters
+shall be gone into most thoroughly. In the meantime what can I do for
+you?”
+
+“We will await the coming of the Prince,” Mr. Sabin answered grimly.
+
+     *           *           *           *           *
+
+Lady Carey passed from her bath-room into a luxurious little
+dressing-room. Her letters and coffee were on a small table near the
+fire, an easy-chair was drawn up to the hearthrug. She fastened the
+girdle of her dressing-gown, and dismissed her maid.
+
+“I will ring for you in half an hour, Annette,” she said. “See that I am
+not disturbed.”
+
+On her way to the fireplace she paused for a moment in front of a tall
+looking-glass, and looked steadily at her own reflection.
+
+“I suppose,” she murmured to herself, “that I am looking at my best now.
+I slept well last night, and a bath gives one colour, and white is so
+becoming. Still, I don’t know why I failed. She may be a little better
+looking, but my figure is as good. I can talk better, I have learnt how
+to keep a man from feeling dull, and there is my reputation. Because I
+played at war correspondence, wore a man’s clothes, and didn’t shriek
+when I was under fire, people have chosen to make a heroine of me. That
+should have counted for something with him--and it didn’t. I could
+have taken my choice of any man in London--and I wanted him. And I have
+failed!”
+
+She threw herself back in her easy-chair and laughed softly.
+
+“Failed! What an ugly word! He is old, and he limps, and I--well, I was
+never a very bashful person. He was beautifully polite, but he wouldn’t
+have anything to say to me.”
+
+She began to tear open her letters savagely.
+
+“Well, it is over. If ever anybody speaks to me about it I think that
+I shall kill them. That fool Saxe Leinitzer will stroke his beastly
+moustache, and smile at me out of the corners of his eyes. The Dorset
+woman, too--bah, I shall go away. What is it, Annette?”
+
+“His Highness the Prince of Saxe Leinitzer has called, milady.”
+
+“Called! Does he regard this as a call?” she exclaimed, glancing towards
+the clock. “Tell him, Annette, that your mistress does not receive
+at such an hour. Be quick, child. Of course I know that he gave you a
+sovereign to persuade me that it was important, but I won’t see him, so
+be off.”
+
+“But yes, milady,” Annette answered, and disappeared.
+
+Lady Carey sipped her coffee.
+
+“I think,” she said reflectively, “that it must be Melton.”
+
+Annette reappeared.
+
+“Milady,” she exclaimed, “His Highness insisted upon my bringing you
+this card. He was so strange in his manner, milady, that I thought it
+best to obey.”
+
+Lady Carey stretched out her hand. A few words were scribbled on the
+back of his visiting card in yellow crayon. She glanced at it, tore the
+card up, and threw the pieces into the fire.
+
+“My shoes and stockings, Annette,” she said, “and just a morning
+wrap--anything will do.”
+
+The Prince was walking restlessly up and down the room, when Lady Carey
+entered. He welcomed her with a little cry of relief.
+
+“Heavens!” he exclaimed. “I thought that you were never coming.”
+
+“I was in no hurry,” she answered calmly. “I could guess your news, so I
+had not even the spur of curiosity.”
+
+He stopped short.
+
+“You have heard nothing! It is not possible?”
+
+She shrugged her shoulders.
+
+“No, but I know you, and I know him. I am quite prepared to hear that
+you are outwitted. Indeed, to judge from your appearance there can be no
+doubt about it. Remember I warned you.”
+
+The Prince was pale with fury.
+
+“No one could foresee this,” he exclaimed. “He has walked into the
+lion’s den.”
+
+“Then,” Lady Carey said, “I am quite prepared to hear that he tamed the
+lion.”
+
+“If there was one person living whom I could have sworn that this man
+dared not visit, it was our Emperor,” the Prince said. “It is only a few
+years since, through this man’s intrigues, Germany was shamed before the
+world.”
+
+“And yet,” Lady Carey said sweetly, “the Emperor has received him.”
+
+“I have private intelligence from Berlin,” Saxe Leinitzer answered.
+“Mr. Sabin was in possession of a letter written to him by the Emperor
+Frederick, thanking him for some service or other; and the letter was a
+talisman.”
+
+“How like him,” Lady Carey murmured, “to have the letter.”
+
+“What a pity,” the Prince sneered, “that such devotion should remain
+unrewarded.”
+
+Lady Carey sighed.
+
+“He has broken my heart,” she replied.
+
+The Prince threw out his hands.
+
+“You and I,” he cried, “why do we behave like children! Let us start
+afresh. Listen! The Emperor has summoned me to Berlin.”
+
+“Dear me,” Lady Carey murmured. “I am afraid you will have a most
+unpleasant visit.”
+
+“I dare not go,” the Prince said slowly. “It was I who induced the
+Emperor to become the titular head of this cursed Order. Of course he
+knew nothing about the second or third degree members and our methods.
+Without doubt he is fully informed now. I dare not face him.”
+
+“What shall you do?” Lady Carey asked curiously.
+
+“I am off to South America,” he said. “It is a great undeveloped
+country, and there is room for us to move there. Muriel, you know what I
+want of you.”
+
+“My good man,” she answered, “I haven’t the faintest idea.”
+
+“You will come with me,” he begged. “You will not send me into exile so
+lonely, a wanderer! Together there may be a great future before us. You
+have ambition, you love intrigue, excitement, danger. None of these can
+you find here. You shall come with me. You shall not say no. Have I not
+been your devoted slave? Have--”
+
+She stopped him. Her lips were parted in a smile of good-natured scorn.
+
+“Don’t be absurd, Saxe Leinitzer. It is true that I love intrigue,
+excitement and danger. That is what made me join your Order, and really
+I have had quite a little excitement out of it, for which I suppose I
+ought to thank you. But as for the rest, why, you are talking rubbish.
+I would go to South America to-morrow with the right man, but with you,
+why, it won’t bear talking about. It makes me angry to think that you
+should believe me capable of such shocking taste as to dream of going
+away with you.”
+
+He flung himself from the room. Lady Carey went back to her coffee and
+letters. She sent for Annette.
+
+“Annette,” she directed, “we shall go to Melton to-morrow. Wire Haggis
+to have the Lodge in order, and carriages to meet the midday train. I
+daresay I shall take a few people down with me. Let George go around
+to Tattershalls at once and make an appointment for me there at three
+o’clock this afternoon. Look out my habits and boots, too, Annette.”
+
+Lady Carey leaned back in her chair for a moment with half-closed eyes.
+
+“I think,” she murmured, “that some of us in our youth must have
+drunk from some poisoned cup, something which turned our blood into
+quicksilver. I must live, or I must die. I must have excitement every
+hour, every second, or break down. There are others too--many others.
+No wonder that that idiot of a man in Harley Street talked to me gravely
+about my heart. No excitement. A quiet life! Bah! Such wishy-washy
+coffee and only one cigarette.”
+
+She lit it and stood up on the hearthrug. Her eyes were half closed,
+every vestige of colour had left her cheeks, her hand was pressed hard
+to her side. For a few minutes she seemed to struggle for breath. Then
+with a little lurch as though still giddy, she stooped, and picking up
+her fallen cigarette, thrust it defiantly between her teeth.
+
+“Not this way,” she muttered. “From a horse’s back if I can with the air
+rushing by, and the hot joy of it in one’s heart... Only I hope it won’t
+hurt the poor old gee... Come in, Annette. What a time you’ve been,
+child.”
+
+******
+
+The Emperor sent for Mr. Sabin. He declined to recognise his incognito.
+
+“Monsieur le Duc,” he said, “if proof of your story were needed it is
+here. The Prince of Saxe Leinitzer has ignored my summons. He has fled
+to South America.”
+
+Mr. Sabin bowed.
+
+“A most interesting country,” he murmured, “for the Prince.”
+
+“You yourself are free to go when and where you will. You need no longer
+have any fears. The Order does not exist. I have crushed it.”
+
+Mr. Sabin bowed.
+
+“Your Majesty,” he said, “has shown exemplary wisdom.”
+
+“From its inception,” the Emperor said, “I believe that the idea was a
+mistaken one. I must confess that its originality pleased me; my calmer
+reflections, however, show me that I was wrong. It is not for the nobles
+of the earth to copy the methods of socialists and anarchists. These men
+are a pest upon humanity, but they may have their good uses. They may
+help us to govern alertly, vigorously, always with our eyes and ears
+strained to catch the signs of the changing times. Monsieur le Duc,
+should you decide to take up your residence in this country I shall at
+all times be glad to receive you. But your future is entirely your own.”
+
+Mr. Sabin accepted his dismissal from audience, and went back to
+Lucille.
+
+“The Prince,” he told her, “has gone--to South America. The Order does
+not exist any longer. Will you dine in Vienna, or in Frankfort?”
+
+She held out her arms.
+
+“You wonderful man!” she cried.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg’s The Yellow Crayon, by E. Phillips Oppenheim
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Yellow Crayon, by E. Phillips Oppenheim
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Yellow Crayon
+
+Author: E. Phillips Oppenheim
+
+Posting Date: November 25, 2008 [EBook #1849]
+Release Date: August, 1999
+[Last updated: March 16, 2012]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE YELLOW CRAYON ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by An Anonymous Project Gutenberg Volunteer
+
+
+
+
+
+THE YELLOW CRAYON
+
+By E. Phillips Oppenheim
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+It was late summer-time, and the perfume of flowers stole into the
+darkened room through the half-opened window. The sunlight forced its
+way through a chink in the blind, and stretched across the floor in
+strange zigzag fashion. From without came the pleasant murmur of bees
+and many lazier insects floating over the gorgeous flower beds, resting
+for a while on the clematis which had made the piazza a blaze of purple
+splendour. And inside, in a high-backed chair, there sat a man, his arms
+folded, his eyes fixed steadily upon vacancy. As he sat then, so had he
+sat for a whole day and a whole night. The faint sweet chorus of glad
+living things, which alone broke the deep silence of the house, seemed
+neither to disturb nor interest him. He sat there like a man turned to
+stone, his forehead riven by one deep line, his straight firm mouth set
+close and hard. His servant, the only living being who had approached
+him, had set food by his side, which now and then he had mechanically
+taken. Changeless as a sphinx, he had sat there in darkness and in
+light, whilst sunlight had changed to moonlight, and the songs of the
+birds had given place to the low murmuring of frogs from a lake below
+the lawns.
+
+At last it seemed that his unnatural fit had passed away. He stretched
+out his hand and struck a silver gong which had been left within his
+reach. Almost immediately a man, pale-faced, with full dark eyes and
+olive complexion, dressed in the sombre garb of an indoor servant, stood
+at his elbow.
+
+"Duson."
+
+"Your Grace!"
+
+"Bring wine--Burgundy."
+
+It was before him, served with almost incredible despatch--a small
+cobwebbed bottle and a glass of quaint shape, on which were beautifully
+emblazoned a coronet and fleur-de-lis. He drank slowly and deliberately.
+When he set the glass down it was empty.
+
+"Duson!"
+
+"Your Grace!"
+
+"You will pack my things and your own. We shall leave for New York this
+evening. Telegraph to the Holland House for rooms."
+
+"For how many days, your Grace?"
+
+"We shall not return here. Pay off all the servants save two of the most
+trustworthy, who will remain as caretakers."
+
+The man's face was as immovable as his master's.
+
+"And Madame?"
+
+"Madame will not be returning. She will have no further use for her
+maid. See, however, that her clothes and all her personal belongings
+remain absolutely undisturbed."
+
+"Has your Grace any further orders?"
+
+"Take pencil and paper. Send this cablegram. Are you ready?"
+
+The man's head moved in respectful assent.
+
+     "To Felix,
+       "No 27, Rue de St.  Pierre,
+         "Avenue de L'Opera, Paris.
+    "Meet me at Sherry's Restaurant, New York, one month to-day, eleven
+     p.m.--V.  S."
+
+"It shall be sent immediately, your Grace. The train for New York leaves
+at seven-ten. A carriage will be here in one hour and five minutes."
+
+The man moved towards the door. His master looked up.
+
+"Duson!"
+
+"Your Grace!"
+
+"The Duc de Souspennier remains here--or at the bottom of the lake--what
+matters! It is Mr. Sabin who travels to New York, and for whom you
+engage rooms at the Holland House. Mr. Sabin is a cosmopolitan of
+English proclivities."
+
+"Very good, sir!"
+
+"Lock this door. Bring my coat and hat five minutes before the carriage
+starts. Let the servants be well paid. Let none of them attempt to see
+me."
+
+The man bowed and disappeared. Left to himself, Mr. Sabin rose from his
+chair, and pushing open the windows, stood upon the verandah. He leaned
+heavily upon his stick with both hands, holding it before him. Slowly
+his eyes traveled over the landscape.
+
+It was a very beautiful home which he was leaving. Before him stretched
+the gardens--Italian in design, brilliant with flowers, with here and
+there a dark cedar-tree drooping low upon the lawn. A yew hedge bordered
+the rose-garden, a fountain was playing in the middle of a lake. A
+wooden fence encircled the grounds, and beyond was a smooth rolling
+park, with little belts of pine plantations and a few larger trees here
+and there. In the far distance the red flag was waving on one of the
+putting greens. Archie Green was strolling up the hillside,--his pipe
+in his mouth, and his driver under his arm. Mr. Sabin watched, and the
+lines in his face grew deeper and deeper.
+
+"I am an old man," he said softly, "but I will live to see them suffer
+who have done this evil thing."
+
+He turned slowly back into the room, and limping rather more than was
+usual with him, he pushed aside a portiere and passed into a charmingly
+furnished country drawing-room. Only the flowers hung dead in their
+vases; everything else was fresh and sweet and dainty. Slowly he
+threaded his way amongst the elegant Louis Quinze furniture, examining
+as though for the first time the beautiful old tapestry, the Sevres
+china, the Chippendale table, which was priceless, the exquisite
+portraits painted by Greuze, and the mysterious green twilights and
+grey dawns of Corot. Everywhere treasures of art, yet everywhere the
+restraining hand of the artist. The faint smell of dead rose leaves hung
+about the room. Already one seemed conscious of a certain emptiness as
+though the genius of the place had gone. Mr. Sabin leaned heavily upon
+his stick, and his head drooped lower and lower. A soft, respectful
+voice came to him from the other room.
+
+"In five minutes, sir, the carriage will be at the door. I have your
+coat and hat here."
+
+Mr. Sabin looked up.
+
+"I am quite ready, Duson!" he said.
+
+      *           *           *           *           *
+
+The servants in the hall stood respectfully aside to let him pass. On
+the way to the depot he saw nothing of those who saluted him. In the car
+he sat with folded arms in the most retired seat, looking steadfastly
+out of the window at the dying day. There were mountains away westwards,
+touched with golden light; sometimes for long minutes together the train
+was rushing through forests whose darkness was like that of a tunnel.
+Mr. Sabin seemed indifferent to these changes. The coming of night did
+not disturb him. His brain was at work, and the things which he saw were
+hidden from other men.
+
+Duson, with a murmur of apology, broke in upon his meditations.
+
+"You will pardon me, sir, but the second dinner is now being served. The
+restaurant car will be detached at the next stop."
+
+"What of it?" Mr. Sabin asked calmly.
+
+"I have taken the liberty of ordering dinner for you, sir. It is thirty
+hours since you ate anything save biscuits."
+
+Mr. Sabin rose to his feet.
+
+"You are quite right, Duson," he said. "I will dine."
+
+In half-an-hour he was back again. Duson placed before him silently a
+box of cigarettes and matches. Mr. Sabin smoked.
+
+Soon the lights of the great city flared in the sky, the train stopped
+more frequently, the express men and newspaper boys came into evidence.
+Mr. Sabin awoke from his long spell of thought. He bought a newspaper,
+and glanced through the list of steamers which had sailed during the
+week. When the train glided into the depot he was on his feet and ready
+to leave it.
+
+"You will reserve our rooms, Duson, for one month," he said on the way
+to the hotel. "We shall probably leave for Europe a month to-morrow."
+
+"Very good, sir."
+
+"You were Mrs. Peterson's servant, Duson, before you were mine!"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"You have been with her, I believe, for many years. You are doubtless
+much attached to her!"
+
+"Indeed I am, sir!"
+
+"You may have surmised, Duson, that she has left me. I desire to ensure
+your absolute fidelity, so I take you into my confidence to this extent.
+Your mistress is in the hands of those who have some power over her. Her
+absence is involuntary so far as she is concerned. It has been a great
+blow to me. I am prepared to run all risks to discover her whereabouts.
+It is late in my life for adventures, but it is very certain that
+adventures and dangers are before us. In accompanying me you will
+associate yourself with many risks. Therefore--"
+
+Duson held up his hand.
+
+"I beg, sir," he exclaimed, "that you will not suggest for a moment my
+leaving your service on that account. I beg most humbly, sir, that you
+will not do me that injustice."
+
+Mr. Sabin paused. His eyes, like lightning, read the other's face.
+
+"It is settled then, Duson," he said. "Kindly pay this cabman, and
+follow me as quickly as possible."
+
+Mr. Sabin passed across the marble hall, leaning heavily upon his stick.
+Yet for all his slow movements there was a new alertness in his eyes and
+bearing. He was once more taking keen note of everybody and everything
+about him. Only a few days ago she had been here.
+
+He claimed his rooms at the office, and handed the keys to Duson, who by
+this time had rejoined him. At the moment of turning away he addressed
+an inquiry to the clerk behind the counter.
+
+"Can you tell me if the Duchess of Souspennier is staying here?" he
+inquired.
+
+The young man glanced up.
+
+"Been here, I guess. Left on Tuesday."
+
+Mr. Sabin turned away. He did not speak again until Duson and he were
+alone in the sitting-room. Then he drew out a five dollar bill.
+
+"Duson," he said, "take this to the head luggage porter. Tell him to
+bring his departure book up here at once, and there is another waiting
+for him. You understand?"
+
+"Certainly, sir!"
+
+Mr. Sabin turned to enter his bed-chamber. His attention was attracted,
+however, by a letter lying flat upon the table. He took it up. It was
+addressed to Mr. Sabin.
+
+"This is very clever," he mused, hesitating for a moment before opening
+it. "I wired for rooms only a few hours ago--and I find a letter. It is
+the commencement."
+
+He tore open the envelope, and drew out a single half-sheet of
+note-paper. Across it was scrawled a single sentence only.
+
+"Go back to Lenox."
+
+There was no signature, nor any date. The only noticeable thing about
+this brief communication was that it was written in yellow pencil of a
+peculiar shade. Mr. Sabin's eyes glittered as he read.
+
+"The yellow crayon!" he muttered.
+
+Duson knocked softly at the door. Mr. Sabin thrust the letter and
+envelope into his breast coat pocket.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+"This is the luggage porter, sir," Duson announced. "He is prepared to
+answer any questions."
+
+The man took out his book. Mr. Sabin, who was sitting in an easy-chair,
+turned sideways towards him.
+
+"The Duchess of Souspennier was staying here last week," he said. "She
+left, I believe, on Thursday or Friday. Can you tell me whether her
+baggage went through your hands?"
+
+The man set down his hat upon a vacant chair, and turned over the leaves
+of his book.
+
+"Guess I can fix that for you," he remarked, running his forefinger
+down one of the pages. "Here we are. The Duchess left on Friday, and
+we checked her baggage through to Lenox by the New York, New Haven &
+Hartford."
+
+Mr. Sabin nodded.
+
+"Thank you," he said. "She would probably take a carriage to the
+station. It will be worth another ten dollars to you if you can find me
+the man who drove her."
+
+"Well, we ought to manage that for you," the man remarked encouragingly.
+"It was one of Steve Hassell's carriages, I guess, unless the lady took
+a hansom."
+
+"Very good," Mr. Sabin said. "See if you can find him. Keep my inquiries
+entirely to yourself. It will pay you."
+
+"That's all right," the man remarked. "Don't you go to bed for
+half-an-hour, and I guess you'll hear from me again."
+
+Duson busied himself in the bed-chamber, Mr. Sabin sat motionless in
+his easy chair. Soon there came a tap at the door. The porter reappeared
+ushering in a smart-looking young man, who carried a shiny coachman's
+hat in his hand.
+
+"Struck it right fust time," the porter remarked cheerfully. "This is
+the man, sir."
+
+Mr. Sabin turned his head.
+
+"You drove a lady from here to the New York, New Haven & Hartford Depot
+last Friday?" he asked.
+
+"Well, not exactly, sir," the man answered. "The Duchess took my cab,
+and the first address she gave was the New York, New Haven &
+Hartford Depot, but before we'd driven a hundred yards she pulled the
+check-string and ordered me to go to the Waldorf. She paid me there, and
+went into the hotel."
+
+"You have not seen her since?"
+
+"No, sir!"
+
+"You knew her by sight, you say. Was there anything special about her
+appearance?"
+
+The man hesitated.
+
+"She'd a pretty thick veil on, sir, but she raised it to pay me, and I
+should say she'd been crying. She was much paler, too, than last time I
+drove her."
+
+"When was that?" Mr. Sabin asked.
+
+"In the spring, sir,--with you, begging your pardon. You were at the
+Netherlands, and I drove you out several times."
+
+"You seem," Mr. Sabin said, "to be a person with some powers of
+observation. It would pay you very well indeed if you would ascertain
+from any of your mates at the Waldorf when and with whom the lady in
+question left that hotel."
+
+"I'll have a try, sir," the man answered. "The Duchess was better known
+here, but some of them may have recognised her."
+
+"She had no luggage, I presume?" Mr. Sabin asked.
+
+"Her dressing-case and jewel-case only, sir."
+
+"So you see," Mr. Sabin continued, "it is probable that she did not
+remain at the Waldorf for the night. Base your inquiries on that
+supposition."
+
+"Very good, sir."
+
+"From your manners and speech," Mr. Sabin said, raising his head, "I
+should take you to be an Englishman."
+
+"Quite correct, sir," the man answered. "I drove a hansom in London for
+eight years."
+
+"You will understand me then," Mr. Sabin continued, "when I say that I
+have no great confidence in the police of this country. I do not wish
+to be blackmailed or bullied. I would ask you, therefore, to make your
+inquiries with discretion."
+
+"I'll be careful, sir," the man answered.
+
+Mr. Sabin handed to each of them a roll of notes. The cabdriver lingered
+upon the threshold. Mr. Sabin looked up.
+
+"Well?"
+
+"Could I speak a word to you--in private, sir?"
+
+Mr. Sabin motioned Duson to leave the room. The baggage porter had
+already departed.
+
+"When I cleaned out my cab at night, sir, I found this. I didn't reckon
+it was of any consequence at first, but from the questions you have been
+asking it may be useful to you."
+
+Mr. Sabin took the half-sheet of note-paper in silence. It was the
+ordinary stationery of the Waldorf Astoria Hotel, and the following
+words were written upon it in a faint delicate handwriting, but in
+yellow pencil:--
+
+                                                  "Sept.  10th.
+  "To LUCILLE, Duchesse de SOUSPENNIER.--
+  "You will be at the Waldorf Astoria Hotel in the main corridor
+   at four o'clock this afternoon."
+
+The thin paper shook in Mr. Sabin's fingers. There was no signature,
+but he fancied that the handwriting was not wholly unfamiliar to him. He
+looked slowly up towards the cabman.
+
+"I am much obliged to you," he said. "This is of interest to me."
+
+He stretched out his hand to the little wad of notes which Duson had
+left upon the table, but the cabdriver backed away.
+
+"Beg pardon, sir," he said. "You've given me plenty. The letter's of no
+value to me. I came very near tearing it up, but for the peculiar colour
+pencil it's written with. Kinder took my fancy, sir."
+
+"The letter is of value," Mr. Sabin said. "It tells me much more than I
+hoped to discover. It is our good fortune."
+
+The man accepted the little roll of bills and departed. Mr. Sabin
+touched the bell.
+
+"Duson, what time is it?"
+
+"Nearly midnight, sir!"
+
+"I will go to bed!"
+
+"Very good, sir!"
+
+"Mix me a sleeping draught, Duson. I need rest. See that I am not
+disturbed until ten o'clock to-morrow morning."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+At precisely ten o'clock on the following morning Duson brought
+chocolate, which he had prepared himself, and some dry toast to his
+master's bedside. Upon the tray was a single letter. Mr. Sabin sat up in
+bed and tore open the envelope. The following words were written upon
+a sheet of the Holland House notepaper in the same peculiar coloured
+crayon.
+
+"The first warning addressed to you yesterday was a friendly one. Profit
+by it. Go back to Lenox. You are only exposing yourself to danger and
+the person you seek to discomfort. Wait there, and some one shall come
+to you shortly who will explain what has happened, and the necessity for
+it."
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled, a slow contemplative smile. He sipped his chocolate
+and lit a cigarette.
+
+"Our friends, then," he said softly, "do not care about pursuit and
+inquiries. It is ridiculous to suppose that their warning is given out
+of any consideration to me. Duson!"
+
+"Yes, sir!"
+
+"My bath. I shall rise now."
+
+Mr. Sabin made his toilet with something of the same deliberation which
+characterised all his movements. Then he descended into the hall, bought
+a newspaper, and from a convenient easy-chair kept a close observation
+upon every one who passed to and fro for about an hour. Later on he
+ordered a carriage, and made several calls down town.
+
+At a few minutes past twelve he entered the bar of the Fifth Avenue
+Hotel, and ordering a drink sat down at one of the small tables. The
+room was full, but Mr. Sabin's attention was directed solely to one
+group of men who stood a short distance away before the counter drinking
+champagne. The central person of the group was a big man, with an
+unusually large neck, a fat pale face, a brown moustache tinged with
+grey, and a voice and laugh like a fog-horn. It was he apparently who
+was paying for the champagne, and he was clearly on intimate terms with
+all the party. Mr. Sabin watched for his opportunity, and then rising
+from his seat touched him on the shoulder.
+
+"Mr. Skinner, I believe?" he said quietly.
+
+The big man looked down upon Mr. Sabin with the sullen offensiveness of
+the professional bully.
+
+"You've hit it first time," he admitted. "Who are you, anyway?"
+
+Mr. Sabin produced a card.
+
+"I called this morning," he said, "upon the gentleman whose name you
+will see there. He directed me to you, and told me to come here."
+
+The man tore the card into small pieces.
+
+"So long, boys," he said, addressing his late companions. "See you
+to-night."
+
+They accepted his departure in silence, and one and all favoured Mr.
+Sabin with a stare of blatant curiosity.
+
+"I should be glad to speak with you," Mr. Sabin said, "in a place where
+we are likely to be neither disturbed nor overheard."
+
+"You come right across to my office," was the prompt reply. "I guess we
+can fix it up there."
+
+Mr. Sabin motioned to his coachman, and they crossed Broadway. His
+companion led him into a tall building, talking noisily all the time
+about the pals whom he had just left. An elevator transported them to
+the twelfth floor in little more than as many seconds, and Mr. Skinner
+ushered his visitor into a somewhat bare-looking office, smelling
+strongly of stale tobacco smoke. Mr. Skinner at once lit a cigar, and
+seating himself before his desk, folded his arms and leaned over towards
+Mr. Sabin.
+
+"Smoke one?" he asked, pointing to the open box.
+
+Mr. Sabin declined.
+
+"Get right ahead then."
+
+"I am an Englishman," Mr. Sabin said slowly, "and consequently am not
+altogether at home with your ways over here. I have always understood,
+however, that if you are in need of any special information such as we
+should in England apply to the police for, over here there is a quicker
+and more satisfactory method of procedure."
+
+"You've come a long way round," Mr. Skinner remarked, spitting upon the
+floor, "but you're dead right."
+
+"I am in need of some information," Mr. Sabin continued, "and
+accordingly I called this morning on Mr.--"
+
+Mr. Skinner held up his hand.
+
+"All right," he said. "We don't mention names more than we can help.
+Call him the boss."
+
+"He assured me that the information I was in need of was easily to be
+obtained, and gave me a card to you."
+
+"Go right on," Mr. Skinner said. "What is it?"
+
+"On Friday last," Mr. Sabin said, "at four o'clock, the Duchess of
+Souspennier, whose picture I will presently show you, left the Holland
+House Hotel for the New York, New Haven & Hartford Depot, presumably for
+her home at Lenox, to which place her baggage had already been checked.
+On the way she ordered the cabman to set her down at the Waldorf-Astoria
+Hotel, which he did at a few minutes past four. The Duchess has not
+returned home or been directly heard from since. I wish to ascertain her
+movements since she arrived at the Waldorf."
+
+"Sounds dead easy," Mr. Skinner remarked reassuringly. "Got the
+picture?"
+
+Mr. Sabin touched the spring of a small gold locket which he drew
+from an inside waistcoat pocket, and disclosed a beautifully painted
+miniature. Mr. Skinner's thick lips were pursed into a whistle. He
+was on the point of making a remark when he chanced to glance into Mr.
+Sabin's face. The remark remained unspoken.
+
+He drew a sheet of note-paper towards him and made a few notes upon it.
+
+"The Duchess many friends in New York?"
+
+"At present none. The few people whom she knows here are at Newport or
+in Europe just now."
+
+"Any idea whom she went to the Waldorf to see? More we know the better."
+
+Mr. Sabin handed him the letter which had been picked up in the cab. Mr.
+Skinner read it through, and spat once more upon the floor.
+
+"What the h---'s this funny coloured pencil mean?"
+
+"I do not know," Mr. Sabin answered. "You will see that the two
+anonymous communications which I have received since arriving in New
+York yesterday are written in the same manner."
+
+Mr. Sabin handed him the other two letters, which Mr. Skinner carefully
+perused.
+
+"I guess you'd better tell me who you are," he suggested.
+
+"I am the husband of the Duchess of Souspennier," Mr. Sabin answered.
+
+"The Duchess send any word home at all?" Mr. Skinner asked.
+
+Mr. Sabin produced a worn telegraph form. It was handed in at Fifth
+Avenue, New York, at six o'clock on Friday. It contained the single word
+'Good-bye.'
+
+"H'm," Mr. Skinner remarked. "We'll find all you want to know by
+to-morrow sure."
+
+"What do you make of the two letters which I received?" Mr. Sabin asked.
+
+"Bunkum!" Mr. Skinner replied confidently.
+
+Mr. Sabin nodded his head.
+
+"You have no secret societies over here, I suppose?" he said.
+
+Mr. Skinner laughed loudly and derisively.
+
+"I guess not," he answered. "They keep that sort of rubbish on the other
+side of the pond."
+
+"Ah!"
+
+Mr. Sabin was thoughtful for a moment. "You expect to find, then," he
+remarked, "some other cause for my wife's disappearance?"
+
+"There don't seem much room for doubt concerning that, sir," Mr. Skinner
+said; "but I never speculate. I will bring you the facts to-night
+between eight and eleven. Now as to the business side of it."
+
+Mr. Sabin was for a moment puzzled.
+
+"What's the job worth to you?" Mr. Skinner asked. "I am willing to pay,"
+Mr. Sabin answered, "according to your demands."
+
+"It's a simple case," Mr. Skinner admitted, "but our man at the Waldorf
+is expensive. If you get all your facts, I guess five hundred dollars
+will about see you through."
+
+"I will pay that," Mr. Sabin answered.
+
+"I will bring you the letters back to-night," Mr. Skinner said. "I guess
+I'll borrow that locket of yours, too."
+
+Mr. Sabin shook his head.
+
+"That," he said firmly, "I do not part with." Mr. Skinner scratched his
+ear with his penholder. "It's the only scrap of identifying matter
+we've got," he remarked. "Of course it's a dead simple case, and we can
+probably manage without it. But I guess it's as well to fix the thing
+right down."
+
+"If you will give me a piece of paper," Mr. Sabin said, "I will make you
+a sketch of the Duchess. The larger the better. I can give you an idea
+of the sort of clothes she would probably be wearing."
+
+Mr. Skinner furnished him with a double sheet of paper, and Mr. Sabin,
+with set face and unflinching figures, reproduced in a few simple
+strokes a wonderful likeness of the woman he loved. He pushed it away
+from him when he had finished without remark. Mr. Skinner was loud in
+its praises.
+
+"I guess you're an artist, sir, for sure," he remarked. "This'll fix the
+thing. Shall I come to your hotel?"
+
+"If you please," Mr. Sabin answered. "I shall be there for the rest of
+the day."
+
+Mr. Skinner took up his hat.
+
+"Guess I'll take my dinner and get right to work," he remarked. "Say,
+you come along, Mr. Sabin. I'll take you where they'll fix you such a
+beefsteak as you never tasted in your life."
+
+"I thank you very much," Mr. Sabin said, "but I must beg to be excused.
+I am expecting some despatches at my hotel. If you are successful this
+afternoon you will perhaps do me the honour of dining with me to-night.
+I will wait until eight-thirty."
+
+The two men parted upon the pavement. Mr. Skinner, with his small bowler
+hat on the back of his head, a fresh cigar in the corner of his mouth,
+and his thumbs in the armholes of his waistcoat, strolled along Broadway
+with something akin to a smile parting his lips, and showing his yellow
+teeth.
+
+"Darned old fool," he muttered. "To marry a slap-up handsome woman like
+that, and then pretend not to know what it means when she bolts. Guess
+I'll spoil his supper to-night."
+
+Mr. Sabin, however, was recovering his spirits. He, too, was leaning
+back in the corner of his carriage with a faint smile brightening his
+hard, stern face. But, unlike Mr. Skinner, he did not talk to himself.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+R. Sabin, who was never, for its own sake, fond of solitude, had ordered
+dinner for two at eight-thirty in the general dining-room. At a few
+minutes previous to that hour Mr. Skinner presented himself.
+
+Mr. Skinner was not in the garb usually affected by men of the world
+who are invited to dine out. The long day's exertion, too, had had its
+effect upon his linen. His front, indeed, through a broad gap,
+confessed to a foundation of blue, and one of his cuffs showed a marked
+inclination to escape from his wrist over his knuckles. His face
+was flushed, and he exhaled a strong odour of cigars and cocktails.
+Nevertheless, Mr. Sabin was very glad to see him, and to receive the
+folded sheet of paper which he at once produced.
+
+"I have taken the liberty," Mr. Sabin remarked, on his part, "of adding
+a trifle to the amount we first spoke of, which I beg you will accept
+from me as a mark of my gratitude for your promptness."
+
+"Sure!" Mr. Skinner answered tersely, receiving the little roll of
+bills without hesitation, and retreating into a quiet corner, where
+he carefully counted and examined every one. "That's all right!" he
+announced at the conclusion of his task. "Come and have one with me now
+before you read your little billet-doux, eh?"
+
+"I shall not read your report until after dinner," Mr. Sabin said,
+"and I think if you are ready that we might as well go in. At the
+head-waiter's suggestion I have ordered a cocktail with the oysters,
+and if we are much later he seemed to fear that it might affect the
+condition of the--I think it was terrapin, he said."
+
+Mr. Skinner stopped short. His tone betrayed emotion.
+
+"Did you say terrapin, sir?"
+
+Mr. Sabin nodded. Mr. Skinner at once took his arm.
+
+"Guess we'll go right in," he declared. "I hate to have a good meal
+spoiled."
+
+They were an old-looking couple. Mr. Sabin quietly but faultlessly
+attired in the usual evening dinner garb, Mr. Skinner ill-dressed,
+untidy, unwashed and frowsy. But here at least Mr. Sabin's incognito
+had been unavailing, for he had stayed at the hotel several times--as he
+remembered with an odd little pang--with Lucille, and the head-waiter,
+with a low bow, ushered them to their table. Mr. Skinner saw the
+preparations for their repast, the oysters, the cocktails in tall
+glasses, the magnum of champagne in ice, and chuckled. To take supper
+with a duke was a novelty to him, but he was not shy. He sat down and
+tucked his serviette into his waistcoat, raised his glass, and suddenly
+set it down again.
+
+"The boss!" he exclaimed in amazement.
+
+Mr. Sabin turned his head in the direction which his companion had
+indicated. Coming hastily across the room towards them, already out of
+breath as though with much hurrying, was a thick-set, powerful man, with
+the brutal face and coarse lips of a prizefighter; a beard cropped so
+short as to seem the growth of a few days only covered his chin, and his
+moustache, treated in the same way, was not thick enough to conceal
+a cruel mouth. He was carefully enough dressed, and a great diamond
+flashed from his tie. There was a red mark round his forehead where his
+hat had been, and the perspiration was streaming from his forehead. He
+strode without hesitation to the table where Mr. Sabin and his guest
+were sitting, and without even a glance at the former turned upon his
+myrmidon.
+
+"Where's that report?" he cried roughly. "Where is it?"
+
+Mr. Skinner seemed to have shrunk into a smaller man. He pointed across
+the table.
+
+"I've given it to him," he said. "What's wrong, boss?"
+
+The newcomer raised his hand as though to strike Skinner. He gnashed his
+teeth with the effort to control himself.
+
+"You damned blithering idiot," he said hoarsely, gripping the side of
+the table. "Why wasn't it presented to me first?"
+
+"Guess it didn't seem worth while," Skinner answered. "There's nothing
+in the darned thing."
+
+"You ignorant fool, hold your tongue," was the fierce reply.
+
+The newcomer sank into a chair and wiped the perspiration from his
+streaming forehead. Mr. Sabin signaled to a waiter.
+
+"You seem upset, Mr. Horser," he remarked politely. "Allow me to offer
+you a glass of wine."
+
+Mr. Horser did not immediately reply, but he accepted the glass which
+the waiter brought him, and after a moment's hesitation drained its
+contents. Then he turned to Mr. Sabin.
+
+"You said nothing about those letters you had had when you came to see
+me this morning!"
+
+"It was you yourself," Mr. Sabin reminded him, "who begged me not
+to enter into particulars. You sent me on to Mr. Skinner. I told him
+everything."
+
+Mr. Horser leaned over the table. His eyes were bloodshot, his tone was
+fierce and threatening. Mr. Sabin was coldly courteous. The difference
+between the demeanour of the two men was remarkable.
+
+"You knew what those letters meant! This is a plot! Where is Skinner's
+report?"
+
+Mr. Sabin raised his eyebrows. He signaled to the head-waiter.
+
+"Be so good as to continue the service of my dinner," he ordered. "The
+champagne is a trifle too chilled. You can take it out of the cooler."
+
+The man bowed, with a curious side glance at Horser.
+
+"Certainly, your Grace!"
+
+Horser was almost speechless with anger.
+
+"Are you going to answer my questions?" he demanded thickly.
+
+"I have no particular objection to doing so," Mr. Sabin answered, "but
+until you can sit up and compose yourself like an ordinary individual, I
+decline to enter into any conversation with you at all."
+
+Again Mr. Horser raised his voice, and the glare in his eyes was like
+the glare of a wild beast.
+
+"Do you know who I am?" he asked. "Do you know who you're talking to?"
+
+Mr. Sabin looked at him coolly, and fingered his wineglass.
+
+"Well," he said, "I've a shocking memory for names, but yours is--Mr.
+Horser, isn't it? I heard it for the first time this morning, and my
+memory will generally carry me through four-and-twenty hours."
+
+There was a moment's silence. Horser was no fool. He accepted his defeat
+and dropped the bully.
+
+"You're a stranger in this city, Mr. Sabin, and I guess you aren't
+altogether acquainted with our ways yet," he said. "But I want you
+to understand this. The report which is in your pocket has got to be
+returned to me. If I'd known what I was meddling with I wouldn't have
+touched your business for a hundred thousand dollars. It's got to be
+returned to me, I say!" he repeated in a more threatening tone.
+
+Mr. Sabin helped himself to fish, and made a careful examination of the
+sauce.
+
+"After all," he said meditatively, "I am not sure that I was wise in
+insisting upon a sauce piquante. I beg your pardon, Mr. Horser. Please
+do not think me inattentive, but I am very hungry. So, I believe, is my
+friend, Mr. Skinner. Will you not join us--or perhaps you have already
+dined?"
+
+There was an ugly flush in Mr. Horser's cheeks, but he struggled to keep
+his composure.
+
+"Will you give me back that report?"
+
+"When I have read it, with pleasure," Mr. Sabin answered. "Before, no."
+
+Mr. Horser swallowed an exceedingly vicious oath. He struck the table
+lightly with his forefinger.
+
+"Look here," he said. "If you'd lived in New York a couple of years,
+even a couple of months, you wouldn't talk like that. I tell you that
+I hold the government of this city in my right hand. I don't want to be
+unpleasant, but if that paper is not in my hands by the time you leave
+this table I shall have you arrested as you leave this room, and the
+papers taken from you."
+
+"Dear me," Mr. Sabin said, "this is serious. On what charge may I ask
+should I be exposed to this inconvenience?"
+
+"Charge be damned!" Mr. Horser answered. "The police don't want
+particulars from me. When I say do a thing they do it. They know that if
+they declined it would be their last day on the force."
+
+Mr. Sabin filled his glass and leaned back in his chair.
+
+"This," he remarked, "is interesting. I am always glad to have the
+opportunity of gaining an insight into the customs of different
+countries. I had an idea that America was a country remarkable for the
+amount of liberty enjoyed by its inhabitants. Your proposed course of
+action seems scarcely in keeping with this."
+
+"What are you going to do? Come, I've got to have an answer."
+
+"I don't quite understand," Mr. Sabin remarked, with a puzzled look,
+"what your official position is in connection with the police."
+
+Mr. Horser's face was a very ugly sight. "Oh, curse my official
+position," he exclaimed thickly. "If you want proof of what I say you
+shall have it in less than five minutes. Skinner, be off and fetch a
+couple of constables."
+
+"I really must protest," Mr. Sabin said. "Mr. Skinner is my guest, and
+I will not have him treated in this fashion, just as the terrapin is
+coming in, too. Sit down, Mr. Skinner, sit down. I will settle this
+matter with you in my room, Mr. Horser, after I have dined. I will not
+even discuss it before."
+
+Mr. Horser opened his mouth twice, and closed it again. He knew that his
+opponent was simply playing to gain time, but, after all, he held the
+trump card. He could afford to wait. He turned to a waiter and ordered a
+cigar. Mr. Sabin and Mr. Skinner continued their dinner.
+
+Conversation was a little difficult, though Mr. Sabin showed no signs of
+an impaired appetite. Skinner was white with fear, and glanced every now
+and then nervously at his chief. Mr. Horser smoked without ceasing, and
+maintained an ominous silence. Mr. Sabin at last, with a sigh, rose,
+and lighting a cigarette, took his stick from the waiter and prepared to
+leave.
+
+"I fear, Mr. Horser," he remarked, "that your presence has scarcely
+contributed to the cheerfulness of our repast. Mr. Skinner, am I to be
+favoured with your company also upstairs?"
+
+Horser clutched that gentleman's arm and whispered a few words in his
+ear.
+
+"Mr. Skinner," he said, "will join us presently. What is your number?"
+
+"336," Mr. Sabin answered. "You will excuse my somewhat slow progress."
+
+They crossed the hall and entered the elevator. Mr. Horser's face
+began to clear. In a moment or two they would be in Mr. Sabin's
+sitting-room-alone. He regarded with satisfaction the other's slim,
+delicate figure and the limp with which he moved. He felt that the
+danger was already over.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+BUT, after all, things did not exactly turn out as Mr. Horser had
+imagined. The sight of the empty room and the closed door were
+satisfactory enough, and he did not hesitate for a moment.
+
+"Look here, sir," he said, "you and I are going to settle this matter
+quick. Whatever you paid Skinner you can have back again. But I'm going
+to have that report."
+
+He took a quick step forward with uplifted hand--and looked into the
+shining muzzle of a tiny revolver. Behind it Mr. Sabin's face, no longer
+pleasant and courteous, had taken to itself some very grim lines.
+
+"I am a weak man, Mr. Horser, but I am never without the means of
+self-defence," Mr. Sabin said in a still, cold tone. "Be so good as to
+sit down in that easy-chair."
+
+Mr. Horser hesitated. For one moment he stood as though about to carry
+out his first intention. He stood glaring at his opponent, his face
+contracted into a snarl, his whole appearance hideous, almost bestial.
+Mr. Sabin smiled upon him contemptuously--the maddening, compelling
+smile of the born aristocrat.
+
+"Sit down!"
+
+Mr. Horser sat down, whereupon Mr. Sabin followed suit.
+
+"Now what have you to say to me?" Mr. Sabin asked quietly.
+
+"I want that report," was the dogged answer.
+
+"You will not have it," Mr. Sabin answered. "You can take that for
+granted. You shall not take it from me by force, and I will see that you
+do not charm it out of my pocket by other means. The information which
+it contains is of the utmost possible importance to me. I have bought it
+and paid for it, and I shall use it."
+
+Mr. Horser moistened his dry lips.
+
+"I will give you," he said, "twenty thousand dollars for its return."
+
+Mr. Sabin laughed softly.
+
+"You bid high," he said. "I begin to suspect that our friends on the
+other side of the water have been more than ordinarily kind to you."
+
+"I will give you--forty thousand dollars."
+
+Mr. Sabin raised his eyebrows.
+
+"So much? After all, that sounds more like fear than anything. You
+cannot hope to make a profitable deal out of that. Dear me! It seems
+only a few minutes ago that I heard your interesting friend, Mr.
+Skinner, shake with laughter at the mention of such a thing as a secret
+society."
+
+"Skinner is a blasted fool," Horser exclaimed fiercely. "Listen here,
+Mr. Sabin. You can read that report if you must, but, as I'm a living
+man you'll not stir from New York if you do. I'll make your life a hell
+for you. Don't you understand that no one but a born fool would dare
+to quarrel with me in this city? I hold the prison keys, the police
+are mine. I shall make my own charge, whatever I choose, and they shall
+prove it for me."
+
+Mr. Sabin shook his head.
+
+"This sounds very shocking," he remarked. "I had no idea that the
+largest city of the most enlightened country in the world was in such a
+sorry plight."
+
+"Oh, curse your sarcasm," Mr. Horser said. "I'm talking facts, and
+you've got to know them. Will you give up that report? You can find out
+all there is in it for yourself. But I'm going to give it you straight.
+If I don't have that report back unread, you'll never leave New York."
+
+Mr. Sabin was genuinely amused.
+
+"My good fellow," he said, "you have made yourself a notorious person in
+this country by dint of incessant bullying and bribing and corruption of
+every sort. You may possess all the powers you claim. Your only
+mistake seems to be that you are too thick-headed to know when you are
+overmatched. I have been a diplomatist all my life," Mr. Sabin said,
+rising slowly to his feet, and with a sudden intent look upon his face,
+"and if I were to be outwitted by such a novice as you I should deserve
+to end my days--in New York."
+
+Mr. Horser rose also to his feet. A smile of triumph was on his lips.
+
+"Well," he said, "we-- Come in! Come in!" The door was thrown open.
+Skinner and two policemen entered. Mr. Sabin leaned towards the wall,
+and in a second the room was plunged in darkness.
+
+"Turn on the lights!" Skinner shouted. "Seize him! He's in that
+corner. Use your clubs!" Horser bawled. "Stand by the door one of you.
+Damnation, where is that switch?"
+
+He found it with a shout of triumph. Lights flared out in the room. They
+stared around into every corner. Mr. Sabin was not there. Then Horser
+saw the door leading into the bed-chamber, and flung himself against it
+with a hoarse cry of rage.
+
+"Break it open!" he cried to the policemen.
+
+They hammered upon it with their clubs. Mr. Sabin's quiet voice came to
+them from the other side.
+
+"Pray do not disturb me, gentlemen," he said. "I am reading."
+
+"Break it open, you damned fools!" Horser cried. They battered at it
+sturdily, but the door was a solid one. Suddenly they heard the key turn
+in the lock. Mr. Sabin stood upon the threshold.
+
+"Gentlemen!" he exclaimed. "These are my private apartments. Why this
+violence?"
+
+He held out the paper.
+
+"This is mine," he said. "The information which it contains is bought
+and paid for. But if the giving it up will procure me the privilege of
+your departure, pray take it."
+
+Horser was purple with rage. He pointed with shaking fist to the still,
+calm figure.
+
+"Arrest him," he ordered. "Take him to the cells."
+
+Mr. Sabin shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"I am ready," he said, "but it is only fair to give you this warning. I
+am the Duke of Souspennier, and I am well known in England and France.
+The paper which you saw me hand to the porter in the hall as we stepped
+into the elevator was a despatch in cipher to the English Ambassador at
+Washington, claiming his protection. If you take me to prison to-night
+you will have him to deal with to-morrow."
+
+Mr. Horser bore himself in defeat better than at any time during the
+encounter. He turned to the constables.
+
+"Go down stairs and wait for me in the hall," he ordered. "You too,
+Skinner."
+
+They left the room. Horser turned to Mr. Sabin, and the veins on his
+forehead stood out like whipcord.
+
+"I know when I'm beaten," he said. "Keep your report, and be damned to
+you. But remember that you and I have a score to settle, and you can ask
+those who know me how often Dick Horser comes out underneath in the long
+run."
+
+He followed the others. Mr. Sabin sat down in his easy-chair with
+a quiet smile upon his lips. Once more he glanced through the brief
+report. Then his eyes half closed, and he sat quite still--a tired,
+weary-looking man, almost unnaturally pale.
+
+"They have kept their word," he said softly to himself, "after many
+years. After many years!"
+
+      *           *           *           *           *
+
+Duson came in to undress him shortly afterwards. He saw signs of the
+struggle, but made no comment. Mr. Sabin, after a moment's hesitation,
+took a phial from his pocket and poured a few drops into a wineglassful
+of water.
+
+"Duson," he said, "bring me some despatch forms and a pencil."
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+Mr. Sabin wrote for several moments. Then he placed the forms in an
+envelope, sealed it, and handed it to Duson.
+
+"Duson," he said, "that fellow Horser is annoyed with me. If I should
+be arrested on any charge, or should fail to return to the hotel within
+reasonable time, break that seal and send off the telegrams."
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+Mr. Sabin yawned.
+
+"I need sleep," he said. "Do not call me to-morrow morning until I ring.
+And, Duson!"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"The Campania will sail from New York somewhere about the tenth of
+October. I wish to secure the whole of stateroom number twenty-eight. Go
+round to the office as soon as they open, secure that room if possible,
+and pay a deposit. No other will do. Also one for yourself."
+
+"Very good, sir."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+"Here's a lady inquiring for you, sir--just gone up to your room in the
+elevator," the hotel clerk remarked to Mr. Sabin as he paused on his way
+to the door to hand in his key. "Shall I send a boy up?"
+
+Mr. Sabin hesitated.
+
+"A lady?" he remarked tentatively.
+
+The hotel clerk nodded.
+
+"Yes. I didn't notice the name, but she was an Englishwoman. I'll send
+up."
+
+"Thank you, I will return," Mr. Sabin said. "If I should miss her on the
+way perhaps you will kindly redirect her to my rooms."
+
+He rang for the elevator, and was swiftly transported to his own floor.
+The door of his sitting-room was open. Duson was talking to a tall fair
+woman, who turned swiftly round at the sound of his approach.
+
+"Ah, they found you, then!" she exclaimed, coming towards him with
+outstretched hands. "Isn't this a strange place and a strange country
+for us to meet once more in?"
+
+He greeted her gallantly, but with a certain reserve, of which she was
+at once aware.
+
+"Are there any countries in the world left which are strange to so great
+a traveler as Lady Muriel Carey?" he said. "The papers here have been
+full of your wonderful adventures in South Africa."
+
+She laughed.
+
+"Everything shockingly exaggerated, of course," she declared. "I have
+really been plagued to death since I got here with interviewers, and
+that sort of person. I wonder if you know how glad I am to see you
+again?"
+
+"You are very kind, indeed," he said. "Certainly there was no one whom
+I expected less to see over here. You have come for the yacht races, I
+suppose?"
+
+She looked at him with a faint smile and raised eyebrows.
+
+"Come," she said, "shall we lie to one another? Is it worth while?
+Candour is so much more original."
+
+"Candour by all means then, I beg," he answered.
+
+"I have come over with the Dalkeiths, ostensibly to see the yacht races.
+Really I have come to see you."
+
+Mr. Sabin bowed.
+
+"I am delightfully flattered," he murmured.
+
+"I don't exactly mean for the pleasure of gazing into your face once
+more," she continued. "I have a mission!"
+
+Mr. Sabin looked up quickly.
+
+"Great heavens! You, too!" he exclaimed.
+
+She nodded.
+
+"Why not?" she asked coolly. "I have been in it for years, you know,
+and when I got back from South Africa everything seemed so terribly slow
+that I begged for some work to do."
+
+"And they sent you here--to me?"
+
+"Yes," she answered, "and I was here also a few weeks ago, but you must
+not ask me anything about that."
+
+Mr. Sabin's eyebrows contracted, his face darkened. She shrank a little
+away from him.
+
+"So it is you who have robbed me of her, then," he said slowly. "Yes,
+the description fits you well enough. I ask you, Lady Carey, to remember
+the last time when chance brought you and me together. Have I deserved
+this from you?"
+
+She made a little gesture of impotence.
+
+"Do be reasonable!" she begged. "What choice had I?"
+
+He looked at her steadfastly.
+
+"The folly of women--of clever women such as you," he said, "is
+absolutely amazing. You have deliberately made a slave of yourself--"
+
+"One must have distraction," she murmured.
+
+"Distraction! And so you play at this sort of thing. Is it worth while?"
+
+Her eyes for a moment clouded over with weariness.
+
+"When one has filled the cup of life to the brim for many years," she
+said, "what remains that is worth while?"
+
+He bowed.
+
+"You are a young woman," he said. "You should not yet have learned to
+speak with such bitterness. As for me--well, I am old indeed. In youth
+and age the affections claim us. I am approaching my second childhood."
+
+She laughed derisively, yet not unkindly. "What folly!" she exclaimed.
+
+"You are right," he admitted. "I suppose it is the fault of old
+associations."
+
+"In a few minutes," she said, smiling at him, "we should have become
+sentimental."
+
+"I," he admitted, "was floundering already."
+
+She shrugged her shoulders.
+
+"You talk as though sentiment were a bog."
+
+"There have been worse similes," he declared.
+
+"How horrid! And do you know, sir, for all your indignation you have not
+yet even inquired after your wife's health."
+
+"I trust," he said, "that she is well."
+
+"She is in excellent health."
+
+"Your second visit to this country," he remarked, "follows very swiftly
+upon your first."
+
+She nodded.
+
+"I am here," she said, "on your account."
+
+"You excite my interest," he declared. "May I know your mission?"
+
+"I have to remind you of your pledge," she said, "to assure you of
+Lucille's welfare, and to prevent your leaving the country."
+
+"Marvelous!" he exclaimed, with a slight mocking smile. "And may I ask
+what means you intend to employ to keep me here?"
+
+"Well," she said, "I have large discretionary powers. We have a very
+strong branch over on this side, but I would very much rather induce you
+to stay here without applying to them."
+
+"And the inducements?" he asked.
+
+She took a cigarette from a box which stood on the table and lit one.
+
+"Well," she said, "I might appeal to your hospitality, might I not? I am
+in a strange country which you have made your home. I want to be shown
+round. Do you remember dining with me one night at the Ambassador's? It
+was very hot, even for Paris, and we drove afterwards in the Bois. Ask
+me to dine with you here, won't you? I have never quite forgotten the
+last time."
+
+Mr. Sabin laughed softly, but with undisguised mirth.
+
+"Come," he said, "this is an excellent start. You are to play the Circe
+up to date, and I am to be beguiled. How ought I to answer you? I do
+remember the Ambassador's, and I do remember driving down the Bois in
+your victoria, and holding--I believe I am right--your hand. You have no
+right to disturb those charming memories by attempting to turn them into
+bathos."
+
+She blew out a little cloud of tobacco smoke, and watched it
+thoughtfully.
+
+"Ah!" she remarked. "I wonder who is better at that, you or I? I may not
+be exactly a sentimental person, but you--you are a flint."
+
+"On the contrary," Mr. Sabin assured her earnestly, "I am very much in
+love with my wife."
+
+"Dear me!" she exclaimed. "You carry originality to quixoticism. I have
+met several men before in my life whom I have suspected of such a thing,
+but I never heard any one confess it. This little domestic contretemps
+is then, I presume, disagreeable to you!"
+
+"To the last degree," Mr. Sabin asserted. "So much so that I leave for
+England by the Campania."
+
+She shook her head slowly.
+
+"I wouldn't if I were you."
+
+"Why not?"
+
+Lady Carey threw away the end of her cigarette, and looked for a moment
+thoughtfully at her long white fingers glittering with rings. Then she
+began to draw on her gloves.
+
+"Well, in the first place," she said, "Lucille will have no time
+to spare for you. You will be de trop in decidedly an uncomfortable
+position. You wouldn't find London at all a good place to live in just
+now, even if you ever got there--which I am inclined to doubt. And
+secondly, here am I--"
+
+"Circe!" he murmured.
+
+"Waiting to be entertained, in a strange country, almost friendless.
+I want to be shown everything, taken everywhere. And I am dying to see
+your home at Lenox. I do not think your attitude towards me in the least
+hospitable."
+
+"Come, you are judging me very quickly," he declared. "What
+opportunities have I had?"
+
+"What opportunities can there be if you sail by the Campania?"
+
+"You might dine with me to-night at least."
+
+"Impossible! The Dalkeiths have a party to meet me. Come too, won't you?
+They love dukes--even French ones."
+
+He shook his head.
+
+"There is no attraction for me in a large party," he answered. "I am
+getting to an age when to make conversation in return for a dinner seems
+scarcely a fair exchange."
+
+"From your host's point of view, or yours?"
+
+"From both! Besides, one's digestion suffers."
+
+"You are certainly getting old," she declared. "Come, I must go. You
+haven't been a bit nice to me. When shall I see you again?"
+
+"It is," he answered, "for you to say."
+
+She looked at him for a moment thoughtfully.
+
+"Supposing," she said, "that I cried off the yacht race to-day. Would
+you take me out to lunch?"
+
+He smiled.
+
+"My dear lady," he said, "it is for Circe to command--and for me to
+obey."
+
+"And you'll come and have tea with me afterwards at the Waldorf?"
+
+"That," Mr. Sabin declared, "will add still further to my happiness."
+
+"Will you call for me, then--and where shall we have lunch, and at
+what time? I must go and develop a headache at once, or that tiresome
+Dalkeith boy will be pounding at my door."
+
+"I will call for you at the Waldorf at half-past one," Mr. Sabin said.
+"Unless you have any choice, I will take you to a little place downtown
+where we can imagine ourselves back on the Continent, and where we shall
+be spared the horror of green corn."
+
+"Delightful," she murmured, buttoning her glove. "Then you shall take
+me for a drive to Fifth Avenue, or to see somebody's tomb, and my woman
+shall make some real Russian tea for us in my sitting-room. Really, I
+think I'm doing very well for the first day. Is the spell beginning to
+work?"
+
+"Hideously," he assured her. "I feel already that the only thing I dread
+in life are these two hours before luncheon."
+
+She nodded.
+
+"That is quite as it should be. Don't trouble to come down with me. I
+believe that Dalkeith pere is hanging round somewhere, and in view of my
+headache perhaps you had better remain in the background for the moment.
+At one-thirty, then!"
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled as she passed out of the room, and lit a cigarette.
+
+"I think," he said to himself, "that the arrival of Felix is opportune."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+They sat together at a small table, looking upon a scene which was
+probably unique in the history of the great restaurant. The younger man
+was both frankly interested and undoubtedly curious. Mr. Sabin, though
+his eyes seemed everywhere, retained to the full extent that nonchalance
+of manner which all his life he had so assiduously cultivated.
+
+"It is wonderful, my dear Felix," he said, leisurely drawing his
+cigarette-case from his pocket, "wonderful what good fellowship can
+be evolved by a kindred interest in sport, and a bottle or so of good
+champagne. But, after all, this is not to be taken seriously."
+
+"Shamrock the fourth! Shamrock the fourth!"
+
+A tall young American, his thick head of hair, which had once been
+carefully parted in the middle, a little disheveled, his hard, clean-cut
+face flushed with enthusiasm, had risen to his feet and stood with a
+brimming glass of champagne high over his head. Almost every one in the
+room rose to their feet. A college boy sprang upon a table with extended
+arms. The Yale shout split the room. The very glasses on the table
+rattled.
+
+"Columbia! Columbia!"
+
+It was an Englishman now who had leaped upon a vacant table with
+upraised glass. There was an answering roar of enthusiasm. Every one
+drank, and every one sat down again with a pleasant thrill of excitement
+at this unique scene. Felix leaned back in his chair and marveled.
+
+"One would have imagined," he murmured, "that America and England
+together were at war with the rest of the world and had won a great
+victory. To think that this is all the result of a yacht race. It is
+incredible!"
+
+"All your life, my dear Felix," Mr. Sabin remarked, "you have underrated
+the sporting instinct. It has a great place amongst the impulses of the
+world. See how it has brought these people together."
+
+"But they are already of the same kin," Felix remarked. "Their interests
+and aims are alike. Their destinies are surely identical."
+
+Mr. Sabin, who had lit his cigarette, watched the blue smoke curl
+upwards, and was thoughtful for a moment.
+
+"My dear Felix!" he said. "You are very, very young. The interests of
+two great nations such as America and England can never be alike. It is
+the language of diplomacy, but it is also the language of fools."
+
+Their conversation was for the moment interrupted by a fresh murmur of
+applause, rising above the loved hum of conversation, the laughter of
+women, and the popping of corks. A little troop of waiters had just
+wheeled into the room two magnificent models of yachts hewn out of
+blocks of solid ice and crowned with flowers. On the one were the Stars
+and Stripes, on the other the Shamrock and Thistle. There was much
+clapping of hands and cheering. Lady Carey, who was sitting at the next
+table with her back to them, joined in the applause so heartily that
+a tiny gold pencil attached to her bracelet became detached and rolled
+unobserved to Mr. Sabin's side. Felix half rose to pick it up, but was
+suddenly checked by a quick gesture from his companion.
+
+"Leave it," Mr. Sabin whispered. "I wish to return it myself."
+
+He stooped and picked it up, a certain stealthiness apparent in his
+movement. Felix watched him in amazement.
+
+"It is Lady Carey's, is it not?" he asked.
+
+"Yes. Be silent. I will give it back to her presently."
+
+A waiter served them with coffee. Mr. Sabin was idly sketching something
+on the back of his menu card. Felix broke into a little laugh as the man
+retired.
+
+"Mysterious as ever," he remarked.
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled quietly. He went on with his sketch.
+
+"I do not want," Felix said, "to seem impatient, but you must remember
+that I have come all the way from Europe in response to a very urgent
+message. As yet I have done nothing except form a very uncomfortable
+third at a luncheon and tea party, and listen to a good deal of
+enigmatic conversation between you and the charming Lady Carey. This
+evening I made sure that I should be enlightened. But no! You have given
+me a wonderful dinner--from you I expected it. We have eaten terrapin,
+canvas-back duck, and many other things the names of which alone were
+known to me. But of the reason for which you have summoned me here--I
+know nothing. Not one word have you spoken. I am beginning to fear from
+your avoidance of the subject that there is some trouble between you and
+Lucille. I beg that you will set my anxiety at rest."
+
+Mr. Sabin nodded.
+
+"It is reasonable," he said. "Look here!"
+
+He turned the menu card round. On the back he had sketched some sort of
+a device with the pencil which he had picked up, and which instead of
+black-lead contained a peculiar shade of yellow crayon. Felix sat as
+though turned to stone.
+
+"Try," Mr. Sabin said smoothly, "and avoid that air of tragedy. Some of
+these good people might be curious."
+
+Felix leaned across the table. He pointed to the menu card.
+
+"What does that mean?" he muttered.
+
+Mr. Sabin contemplated it himself thoughtfully. "Well," he said, "I
+rather thought that you might be able to explain that to me. I have
+an idea that there is a society in Europe--sort of aristocratic
+odd-fellows, you know--who had adopted it for their crest. Am I not
+right?"
+
+Felix looked at him steadfastly.
+
+"Tell me two things," he said. "First, why you sent for me, and
+secondly, what do you mean--by that?"
+
+"Lucille," Mr. Sabin said, "has been taken away from me."
+
+"Lucille! Great God!"
+
+"She has been taken away from me," Mr. Sabin said, "without a single
+word of warning."
+
+Felix pointed to the menu card.
+
+"By them?" he asked.
+
+"By them. It was a month ago. Two days before my cable."
+
+Felix was silent for several moments. He had not the self-command of his
+companion, and he feared to trust himself to speech.
+
+"She has been taken to Europe," Mr. Sabin continued. "I do not know, I
+cannot even guess at the reason. She left no word. I have been warned
+not to follow her."
+
+"You obey?"
+
+"I sail to-morrow."
+
+"And I?" Felix asked.
+
+Mr. Sabin looked for, a moment at the drawing on the back of the menu
+card, and up at Felix. Felix shook his head.
+
+"You must know," he said, "that I am powerless."
+
+"You may be able to help me," Mr. Sabin said, "without compromising
+yourself."
+
+"Impossible!" Felix declared. "But what did they want with Lucille?"
+
+"That," Mr. Sabin said, "is what I am desirous of knowing. It is what I
+trust that you, my dear Felix, may assist me to discover."
+
+"You are determined, then, to follow her?"
+
+Mr. Sabin helped himself to a liqueur from the bottle by his side.
+
+"My dear Felix," he said reproachfully, "you should know me better than
+to ask me such a question."
+
+Felix moved uneasily in his chair.
+
+"Of course," he said, "it depends upon how much they want to keep you
+apart. But you know that you are running great risks?"
+
+"Why, no," Mr. Sabin said. "I scarcely thought that. I have understood
+that the society was by no means in its former flourishing condition."
+
+Felix laughed scornfully.
+
+"They have never been," he answered, "richer or more powerful. During
+the last twelve months they have been active in every part of Europe."
+
+Mr. Sabin's face hardened.
+
+"Very well!" he said. "We will try their strength."
+
+"We!" Felix laughed shortly. "You forget that my hands are tied. I
+cannot help you or Lucille. You must know that."
+
+"You cannot interfere directly," Mr. Sabin admitted. "Yet you are
+Lucille's brother, and I am forced to appeal to you. If you will be my
+companion for a little while I think I can show you how you can help
+Lucille at any rate, and yet run no risk."
+
+The little party at the next table were breaking up at last. Lady Carey,
+pale and bored, with tired, swollen eyes--they were always a little
+prominent--rose languidly and began to gather together her belongings.
+As she did so she looked over the back of her chair and met Mr. Sabin's
+eyes. He rose at once and bowed. She cast a quick sidelong glance at her
+companions, which he at once understood.
+
+"I have the honour, Lady Carey," he said, "of recalling myself to your
+recollection. We met in Paris and London not so very many years ago. You
+perhaps remember the cardinal's dinner?"
+
+A slight smile flickered upon her lips. The man's adroitness always
+excited her admiration.
+
+"I remember it perfectly, and you, Duke," she answered. "Have you made
+your home on this side of the water?"
+
+Mr. Sabin shook his head slowly.
+
+"Home!" he repeated. "Ah, I was always a bird of passage, you remember.
+Yet I have spent three very delightful years in this country."
+
+"And I," she said, lowering her tone and leaning towards him, "one very
+stupid, idiotic day."
+
+Mr. Sabin assumed the look of a man who denies any personal
+responsibility in an unfortunate happening.
+
+"It was regrettable," he murmured, "but I assure you that it was
+unavoidable. Lucille's brother must have a certain claim upon me, and it
+was his first day in America."
+
+She was silent for a moment. Then she turned abruptly towards the door.
+Her friends were already on the way.
+
+"Come with me," she said. "I want to speak to you."
+
+He followed her out into the lobby. Felix came a few paces behind. The
+restaurant was still full of people, the hum of conversation almost
+drowning the music. Every one glanced curiously at Lady Carey, who was a
+famous woman. She carried herself with a certain insolent indifference,
+the national deportment of her sex and rank. The women whispered
+together that she was "very English."
+
+In the lobby she turned suddenly upon Mr. Sabin.
+
+"Will you take me back to my hotel?" she asked pointedly.
+
+"I regret that I cannot," he answered. "I have promised to show Felix
+some of the wonders of New York by night."
+
+"You can take him to-morrow."
+
+"To-morrow," Mr. Sabin said, "he leaves for the West."
+
+She looked closely into his impassive face.
+
+"I suppose that you are lying," she said shortly.
+
+"Your candour," he answered coldly, "sometimes approaches brutality."
+
+She leaned towards him, her face suddenly softened.
+
+"We are playing a foolish game with one another," she murmured. "I offer
+you an alliance, my friendship, perhaps my help."
+
+"What can I do," he answered gravely, "save be grateful--and accept?"
+
+"Then--"
+
+She stopped short. It was Mr. Sabin's luck which had intervened. Herbert
+Daikeith stood at her elbow.
+
+"Lady Carey," he said, "they're all gone but the mater and I. Forgive my
+interrupting you," he added hastily.
+
+"You can go on, Herbert," she added. "The Duc de Souspennier will bring
+me."
+
+Mr. Sabin, who had no intention of doing anything of the sort, turned
+towards the young man with a smile.
+
+"Lady Carey has not introduced us," he said, "but I have seen you at
+Ranelagh quite often. If you are still keen on polo you should have a
+try over here. I fancy you would find that these American youngsters can
+hold their own. All right, Felix, I am ready now. Lady Carey, I shall do
+myself the honour of waiting upon you early to-morrow morning, as I have
+a little excursion to propose. Good-night."
+
+She shrugged her shoulders ever so slightly as she turned away. Mr.
+Sabin smiled--faintly amused. He turned to Felix.
+
+"Come," he said, "we have no time to lose."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+"I regret," Mr. Sabin said to Felix as they sat side by side in the
+small coupe, "that your stay in this country will be so brief."
+
+"Indeed," Felix answered. "May I ask what you call brief?"
+
+Mr. Sabin looked out of the carriage window.
+
+"We are already," he said, "on the way to England."
+
+Felix laughed.
+
+"This," he said, "is like old times."
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled.
+
+"The system of espionage here," he remarked, "is painfully primitive. It
+lacks finesse and judgment. The fact that I have taken expensive rooms
+on the Campania, and that I have sent many packages there, that my
+own belongings are still in my rooms untouched, seems to our friends
+conclusive evidence that I am going to attempt to leave America by that
+boat. They have, I believe, a warrant for my arrest on some ridiculous
+charge which they intend to present at the last moment. They will not
+have the opportunity."
+
+"But there is no other steamer sailing to-morrow, is there?" Felix
+asked.
+
+"Not from New York," Mr. Sabin answered, "but it was never my intention
+to sail from New York. We are on our way to Boston now, and we sail in
+the Saxonia at six o'clock to-morrow morning."
+
+"We appear to be stopping at the Waldorf," Felix remarked.
+
+"It is quite correct," Mr. Sabin answered. "Follow me through the hall
+as quickly as possible. There is another carriage waiting at the other
+entrance, and I expect to find in it Duson and my dressing-case."
+
+They alighted and made their way though the crowded vestibules. At
+the Thirty-fourth Street entrance a carriage was drawn up. Duson was
+standing upon the pavement, his pale, nervous face whiter than ever
+under the electric light. Mr. Sabin stopped short.
+
+"Felix," he said, "one word. If by any chance things have gone wrong
+they will not have made any arrangements to detain you. Catch the
+midnight train to Boston and embark on the Saxonia. There will be
+a cable for you at Liverpool. But the moment you leave me send this
+despatch."
+
+Felix nodded and put the crumpled-up piece of paper in his pocket.
+The two men passed on. Duson took off his hat, but his fingers were
+trembling. The carriage door was opened and a tall, spare man descended.
+
+"This is Mr. Sabin?" he remarked.
+
+Mr. Sabin bowed.
+
+"That is my name," he admitted, "by which I have been generally called
+in this democratic country. What is your business with me?"
+
+"I rather guess that you're my prisoner," the man answered. "If you'll
+step right in here we can get away quietly."
+
+"The suggestion," Mr. Sabin remarked, "sounds inviting, but I am
+somewhat pressed for time. Might I inquire the nature of the charge you
+have against me?"
+
+"They'll tell you that at the office," the man answered. "Get in,
+please."
+
+Mr. Sabin looked around for Felix, but he had disappeared. He took out
+his cigarette-case.
+
+"You will permit me first to light a cigarette," he remarked.
+
+"All right! Only look sharp."
+
+Mr. Sabin kept silence in the carriage. The drive was a long one. When
+they descended he looked up at Duson, who sat upon the box.
+
+"Duson," he said, and his voice, though low, was terrible, "I see that I
+can be mistaken in men. You are a villain."
+
+The man sprung to his feet, hat in hand. His face was wrung with
+emotion.
+
+"Your Grace," he said, "it is true that I betrayed you. But I did it
+without reward. I am a ruined man. I did it because the orders which
+came to me were such as I dare not disobey. Here are your keys, your
+Grace, and money."
+
+Mr. Sabin looked at him steadily.
+
+"You, too, Duson?"
+
+"I too, alas, your Grace!"
+
+Mr. Sabin considered for a moment.
+
+"Duson," he said, "I retain you in my service. Take my luggage on board
+the Campania to-morrow afternoon, and pay the bill at the hotel. I shall
+join you on the boat."
+
+Duson was amazed. The man who was standing by laughed.
+
+"If you take my advice, sir," he remarked, "you'll order your clothes
+to be sent here. I've a kind of fancy the Campania will sail without you
+to-morrow."
+
+"You have my orders, Duson," Mr. Sabin said. "You can rely upon seeing
+me."
+
+The detective led the way into the building, and opened the door leading
+into a large, barely furnished office.
+
+"Chief's gone home for the night, I guess," he remarked. "We can fix up
+a shakedown for you in one of the rooms behind."
+
+"I thank you," Mr. Sabin said, sitting down in a high-backed wooden
+chair; "I decline to move until the charge against me is properly
+explained."
+
+"There is no one here to do it just now," the man answered. "Better make
+yourself comfortable for a bit."
+
+"You detain me here, then," Mr. Sabin said, "without even a sight of
+your warrant or any intimation as to the charge against me?"
+
+"Oh, the chief'll fix all that," the man answered. "Don't you worry."
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled.
+
+In a magnificently furnished apartment somewhere in the neighbourhood of
+Fifth Avenue a small party of men were seated round a card table piled
+with chips and rolls of bills. On the sideboard there was a great
+collection of empty bottles, spirit decanters and Vichy syphons. Mr.
+Horser was helping himself to brandy and water with one hand and holding
+himself up with the other. There was a knock at the door.
+
+A man who was still playing looked up. He was about fifty years of age,
+clean shaven, with vacuous eyes and a weak mouth. He was the host of the
+party.
+
+"Come in!" he shouted.
+
+A young man entered in a long black overcoat and soft hat. He looked
+about him without surprise, but he seemed to note Mr. Horser's presence
+with some concern. The man at the table threw down his cards.
+
+"What the devil do you want, Smith?"
+
+"An important despatch from Washington has just arrived, sir. I have
+brought it up with the codebook."
+
+"From Washington at this time of the night," he exclaimed thickly. "Come
+in here, Smith."
+
+He raised the curtains leading into a small anteroom, and turned up the
+electric light. His clerk laid the message down on the table before him.
+
+"Here is the despatch, Mr. Mace," he said, "and here is the
+translation."
+
+"English Ambassador demands immediate explanation of arrest of Duke
+Souspennier at Waldorf to-night. Reply immediately what charge and
+evidence. Souspennier naturalised Englishman."
+
+Mr. Mace sprang to his feet with an oath. He threw aside the curtain
+which shielded the room from the larger apartment.
+
+"Horser, come here, you damned fool!"
+
+Horser, with a stream of magnificent invectives, obeyed the summons. His
+host pointed to the message.
+
+"Read that!"
+
+Mr. Horser read and his face grew even more repulsive. A dull purple
+flush suffused his cheeks, his eyes were bloodshot, and the veins on his
+forehead stood out like cords. He leaned for several moments against the
+table and steadily cursed Mr. Sabin, the government at Washington, and
+something under his breath which he did not dare to name openly.
+
+"Oh, shut up!" his host said at last. "How the devil are we going to get
+out of this?"
+
+Mr. Horser left the room and returned with a tumbler full of brandy and
+a very little water.
+
+"Take a drink yourself," he said. "It'll steady you."
+
+"Oh, I'm steady enough," Mr. Mace replied impatiently. "I want to know
+how you're going to get us out of this. What was the charge, anyhow?"
+
+"Passing forged bills," Horser answered. "Parsons fixed it up."
+
+Mr. Mace turned a shade paler.
+
+"Where the devil's the sense in a charge like that?" he answered
+fiercely. "The man's a millionaire. He'll turn the tables on us nicely."
+
+"We've got to keep him till after the Campania sails, anyhow," Horser
+said doggedly.
+
+"We're not going to keep him ten minutes," Mace replied. "I'm going to
+sign the order for his release."
+
+Horser's speech was thick with drunken fury. "By --- I'll see that you
+don't!" he exclaimed.
+
+Mace turned upon him angrily.
+
+"You selfish fool!" he muttered. "You're not in the thing, anyhow. If
+you think I'm going to risk my position for the sake of one little job
+you're wrong. I shall go down myself and release him, with an apology."
+
+"He'll have his revenge all the same," Horser answered. "It's too late
+now to funk the thing. They can't budge you. We'll see to that. We hold
+New York in our hands. Be a man, Mace, and run a little risk. It's fifty
+thousand."
+
+Mace looked up at him curiously.
+
+"What do you get out of it, Horser?"
+
+Horser's face hardened.
+
+"Not one cent!" he declared fiercely. "Only if I fail it might be
+unpleasant for me next time I crossed."
+
+"I don't know!" Mace declared weakly. "I don't know what to do. It's
+twelve hours, Horser, and the charge is ridiculous."
+
+"You have me behind you."
+
+"I can't tell them that at Washington," Mace said.
+
+"It's a fact, all the same. Don't be so damned nervous."
+
+Mace dismissed his clerk, and found his other guests, too, on the point
+of departure. But the last had scarcely left before a servant entered
+with another despatch.
+
+"Release Souspennier."
+
+Mace handed it to his companion.
+
+"This settles it," he declared. "I shall go round and try and make my
+peace with the fellow."
+
+Horser stood in the way, burly, half-drunk and vicious. He struck his
+host in the face with clenched fist. Mace went down with scarcely a
+groan. A servant, hearing the fall, came hurrying back.
+
+"Your master is drunk and he has fallen down," Horser said. "Put him to
+bed--give him a sleeping draught if you've got one."
+
+The servant bent over the unconscious man.
+
+"Hadn't I better fetch a doctor, sir?" he asked. "I'm afraid he's hurt."
+
+"Not he!" Horser answered contemptuously. "He's cut his cheek a little,
+that's all. Put him to bed. Say I shall be round again by nine o'clock."
+
+Horser put on his coat and left the house. The morning sunlight was
+flooding the streets. Away down town Mr. Sabin was dozing in his
+high-backed chair.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+Felix, after an uneventful voyage, landed duly at Liverpool. To his
+amazement the first person he saw upon the quay was Mr. Sabin, leaning
+upon his stick and smoking a cigarette.
+
+"Come, come, Felix!" he exclaimed. "Don't look at me as though I were a
+ghost. You have very little confidence in me, after all, I see."
+
+"But--how did you get here?"
+
+"The Campania, of course. I had plenty of time. It was easy enough for
+those fellows to arrest me, but they never had a chance of holding me."
+
+"But how did you get away in time?"
+
+Mr. Sabin sighed.
+
+"It was very simple," he said. "One day, while one of those wonderful
+spies was sleeping on my doormat I slipped away and went over to
+Washington, saw the English Ambassador, convinced him of my bonafides,
+told him very nearly the whole truth. He promised if I wired him that I
+was arrested to take my case up at once. You sent the despatch, and he
+kept his word. I breakfasted on Saturday morning at the Waldorf, and
+though a great dray was driven into my carriage on the way to the boat,
+I escaped, as I always do--and here I am."
+
+"Unhurt!" Felix remarked with a smile, "as usual!"
+
+Mr. Sabin nodded.
+
+"The driver of my carriage was killed, and Duson had his arm broken,"
+he said. "I stepped out of the debris without a scratch. Come into the
+Customs House now and get your baggage through. I have taken a coupe on
+the special train and ordered lunch."
+
+Before long they were on the way to London. Mr. Sabin, whilst luncheon
+was being served, talked only of the lightest matters. But afterwards,
+when coffee was served and he had lit a cigarette, he leaned over
+towards Felix.
+
+"Felix," he said, "your sister is dear to you?"
+
+"She is the only creature on earth," Felix said, "whom I care for. She
+is very dear to me, indeed."
+
+"Am I right," Mr. Sabin asked, "in assuming that the old enmity between
+us is dead, that the last few years has wiped away the old soreness.
+
+"Yes," Felix answered. "I know that she was happy with you. That is
+enough for me."
+
+"You and I," Mr. Sabin continued, "must work out her salvation. Do not
+be afraid that I am going to ask you impossibilities. I know that our
+ways must lie apart. You can go to her at once. It may be many, many
+months before I can catch even a glimpse of her. Never mind. Let me
+feel that she has you within the circle, and I without, with our lives
+devoted to her."
+
+"You may rely upon that," Felix answered. "Wherever she is I am going. I
+shall be there. I will watch over her."
+
+Mr. Sabin sighed.
+
+"The more difficult task is mine," he said, "but I have no fear of
+failure. I shall find her surrounded by spies, by those who are now my
+enemies. Still, they will find it hard to shake me off. It may be that
+they took her from me only out of revenge. If that be so my task will be
+easier. If there are other dangers which she is called upon to face, it
+is still possible that they might accept my service instead."
+
+"You would give it?" Felix exclaimed.
+
+"To the last drop of blood in my body," Mr. Sabin answered. "Save for my
+love for her I am a dead man upon the earth. I have no longer politics
+or ambition. So the past can easily be expunged. Those who must be her
+guiding influence shall be mine."
+
+"You will win her back," Felix said. "I am sure of it."
+
+"I am willing to pay any price on earth," Mr. Sabin answered. "If they
+can forget the past I can. I want you to remember this. I want her to
+know it. I want them to know it. That is all, Felix."
+
+Mr. Sabin leaned back in his seat. He had left this country last a
+stricken and defeated man, left it with the echoes of his ruined schemes
+crashing in his ears. He came back to it a man with one purpose only,
+and that such a purpose as never before had guided him--the love of a
+woman. Was it a sign of age, he wondered, this return to the humanities?
+His life had been full of great schemes, he had wielded often a gigantic
+influence, more than once he had made history. And now the love of these
+things had gone from him. Their fascination was powerless to quicken by
+a single beat his steady pulse. Monarchy or republic--what did he care?
+It was Lucille he wanted, the woman who had shown him how sweet even
+defeat might be, who had made these three years of his life so happy
+that they seemed to have passed in one delightful dream. Were they dead,
+annihilated, these old ambitions, the old love of great doings, or did
+they only slumber? He moved in his seat uneasily.
+
+At Euston the two men separated with a silent handshake. Mr. Sabin
+drove to one of the largest and newest of the modern hotels de luxe. He
+entered his name as Mr. Sabin--the old exile's hatred of using his title
+in a foreign country had become a confirmed habit with him--and mingled
+freely with the crowds who thronged into the restaurant at night. There
+were many faces which he remembered, there were a few who remembered
+him. He neither courted nor shunned observation. He sat at dinner-time
+at a retired table, and found himself watching the people with a stir
+of pleasure. Afterwards he went round to a famous club, of which he had
+once been made a life member, but towards midnight he was wearied of the
+dull decorum of his surroundings, and returning to the hotel, sought
+the restaurant once more. The stream of people coming in to supper was
+greater even than at dinner-time. He found a small table, and ordered
+some oysters. The sight of this bevy of pleasure-seekers, all apparently
+with multitudes of friends, might have engendered a sense of loneliness
+in a man of different disposition. To Mr. Sabin his isolation was a
+luxury. He had an uninterrupted opportunity of pursuing his favourite
+study.
+
+There entered a party towards midnight, to meet whom the head-waiter
+himself came hurrying from the further end of the room, and whose
+arrival created a little buzz of interest. The woman who formed the
+central figure of the little group had for two years known no rival
+either at Court or in Society. She was the most beautiful woman in
+England, beautiful too with all the subtle grace of her royal descent.
+There were women upon the stage whose faces might have borne comparison
+with hers, but there was not one who in a room would not have sunk
+into insignificance by her side. Her movements, her carriage were
+incomparable--the inherited gifts of a race of women born in palaces.
+
+Mr. Sabin, who neither shunned nor courted observation, watched her with
+a grim smile which was not devoid of bitterness. Suddenly she saw him.
+With a little cry of wonder she came towards him with outstretched
+hands.
+
+"It is marvelous," she exclaimed. "You? Really you?"
+
+He bowed low over her hands.
+
+"It is I, dear Helene," he answered. "A moment ago I was dreaming. I
+thought that I was back once more at Versailles, and in the presence of
+my Queen."
+
+She laughed softly.
+
+"There may be no Versailles," she murmured, "but you will be a courtier
+to the end of your days."
+
+"At least," he said, "believe me that my congratulations come from my
+heart. Your happiness is written in your face, and your husband must be
+the proudest man in England."
+
+He was standing now by her side, and he held out his hand to Mr. Sabin.
+
+"I hope, sir," he said pleasantly, "that you bear me no ill-will."
+
+"It would be madness," Mr. Sabin answered. "To be the most beautiful
+peeress in England is perhaps for Helene a happier fate than to be the
+first queen of a new dynasty."
+
+"And you, uncle?" Helene said. "You are back from your exile then. How
+often I have felt disposed to smile when I thought of you, of all men,
+in America."
+
+"I went into exile," Mr. Sabin answered, "and I found paradise. The
+three years which have passed since I saw you last have been the
+happiest of my life."
+
+"Lucille!" Helene exclaimed.
+
+"Is my wife," Mr. Sabin answered.
+
+"Delightful!" Helene murmured. "She is with you then, I hope. Indeed, I
+felt sure that I saw her the other night at the opera."
+
+"At the opera!" Mr. Sabin for a moment was silent. He would have been
+ashamed to confess that his heart was beating strongly, that a crowd
+of eager questions trembled upon his lips. He recovered himself after a
+moment.
+
+"Lucille is not with me for the moment," he said in measured tones. "I
+am detaining you from your guests, Helene. If you will permit me I will
+call upon you."
+
+"Won't you join us?" Lord Camperdown asked courteously. "We are only
+a small party--the Portuguese Ambassador and his wife, the Duke of
+Medchester, and Stanley Phillipson."
+
+Mr. Sabin rose at once.
+
+"I shall be delighted," he said.
+
+Lord Camperdown hesitated for a moment.
+
+"I present Monsieur le Due de Souspennier, I presume?" he remarked,
+smiling.
+
+Mr. Sabin bowed.
+
+"I am Mr. Sabin," he said, "at the hotels and places where one travels.
+To my friends I have no longer an incognito. It is not necessary."
+
+It was a brilliant little supper party, and Mr. Sabin contributed at
+least his share to the general entertainment. Before they dispersed he
+had to bring out his tablets to make notes of his engagements. He stood
+on the top of the steps above the palm-court to wish them good-bye,
+leaning on his stick. Helene turned back and waved her hand.
+
+"He is unchanged," she murmured, "yet I fear that there must be
+trouble."
+
+"Why? He seemed cheerful enough," her husband remarked.
+
+She dropped her voice a little.
+
+"Lucille is in London. She is staying at Dorset House."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+Mr. Sabin was deep in thought. He sat in an easy-chair with his back to
+the window, his hands crossed upon his stick, his eyes fixed upon the
+fire. Duson was moving noiselessly about the room, cutting the morning's
+supply of newspapers and setting them out upon the table. His master
+was in a mood which he had been taught to respect. It was Mr. Sabin who
+broke the silence.
+
+"Duson!"
+
+"Your Grace!"
+
+"I have always, as you know, ignored your somewhat anomalous position as
+the servant of one man and the slave of a society. The questions which
+I am about to ask you you can answer or not, according to your own
+apprehensions of what is due to each."
+
+"I thank your Grace!"
+
+"My departure from America seemed to incite the most violent opposition
+on the part of your friends. As you know, it was with a certain amount
+of difficulty that I reached this country. Now, however, I am left
+altogether alone. I have not received a single warning letter. My
+comings and goings, although purposely devoid of the slightest secrecy,
+are absolutely undisturbed. Yet I have some reason to believe that your
+mistress is in London."
+
+"Your Grace will pardon me," Duson said, "but there is outside a
+gentleman waiting to see you to whom you might address the same
+questions with better results, for compared with him I know nothing. It
+is Monsieur Felix."
+
+"Why have you kept him waiting?" Mr. Sabin asked.
+
+"Your Grace was much absorbed," Duson answered.
+
+Felix was smoking a cigarette, and Mr. Sabin greeted him with a certain
+grim cordiality.
+
+"Is this permitted--this visit?" he asked, himself selecting a cigarette
+and motioning his guest to a chair.
+
+"It is even encouraged," Felix answered.
+
+"You have perhaps some message?"
+
+"None."
+
+"I am glad to see you," Mr. Sabin said. "Just now I am a little puzzled.
+I will put the matter to you. You shall answer or not, at your own
+discretion."
+
+"I am ready," Felix declared.
+
+"You know the difficulty with which I escaped from America," Mr. Sabin
+continued. "Every means which ingenuity could suggest seemed brought to
+bear against me. And every movement was directed, if not from here, from
+some place in Europe. Well, I arrived here four days ago. I live quite
+openly, I have even abjured to some extent my incognito. Yet I have not
+received even a warning letter. I am left absolutely undisturbed."
+
+Felix looked at him thoughtfully.
+
+"And what do you deduce from this?" he asked.
+
+"I do not like it," Mr. Sabin answered drily.
+
+"After all," Felix remarked, "it is to some extent natural. The very
+openness of your life here makes interference with you more difficult,
+and as to warning letters--well, you have proved the uselessness of
+them."
+
+"Perhaps," Mr. Sabin answered. "At the same time, if I were a
+superstitious person I should consider this inaction ominous."
+
+"You must take account also," Felix said, "of the difference in the
+countries. In England the police system, if not the most infallible
+in the world, is certainly the most incorruptible. There was never a
+country in which security of person and life was so keenly watched over
+as here. In America, up to a certain point, a man is expected to look
+after himself. The same feeling does not prevail here."
+
+Mr. Sabin assented.
+
+"And therefore," he remarked, "for the purposes of your friends I should
+consider this a difficult and unpromising country in which to work."
+
+"Other countries, other methods!" Felix remarked laconically.
+
+"Exactly! It is the new methods which I am anxious to discover," Mr.
+Sabin said. "No glimmering of them as yet has been vouchsafed to me. Yet
+I believe that I am right in assuming that for the moment London is the
+headquarters of your friends, and that Lucille is here?"
+
+"If that is meant for a question," Felix said, "I may not answer it."
+
+Mr. Sabin nodded.
+
+"Yet," he suggested, "your visit has an object. To discover my plans
+perhaps! You are welcome to them."
+
+Felix thoughtfully knocked the ashes off his cigarette.
+
+"My visit had an object," he admitted, "but it was a personal one. I am
+not actually concerned in the doings of those whom you have called my
+friends."
+
+"We are alone," Mr. Sabin reminded him. "My time is yours."
+
+"You and I," Felix said, "have had our periods of bitter enmity. With
+your marriage to Lucille these, so far as I am concerned, ended for
+ever. I will even admit that in my younger days I was prejudiced against
+you. That has passed away. You have been all your days a bold and
+unscrupulous schemer, but ends have at any rate been worthy ones. To-day
+I am able to regard you with feelings of friendliness. You are the
+husband of my dear sister, and for years I know that you made her very
+happy. I ask you, will you believe in this statement of my attitude
+towards you?"
+
+"I do not for a single moment doubt it," Mr. Sabin answered.
+
+"You will regard the advice which I am going to offer as disinterested?"
+
+"Certainly!"
+
+"Then I offer it to you earnestly, and with my whole heart. Take the
+next steamer and go back to America."
+
+"And leave Lucille? Go without making any effort to see her?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+Mr. Sabin was for a moment very serious indeed. The advice given in such
+a manner was full of forebodings to him. The lines from the corners of
+his mouth seemed graven into his face.
+
+"Felix," he said slowly, "I am sometimes conscious of the fact that I am
+passing into that period of life which we call old age. My ambitions are
+dead, my energies are weakened. For many years I have toiled--the time
+has come for rest. Of all the great passions which I have felt there
+remains but one--Lucille. Life without her is worth nothing to me. I am
+weary of solitude, I am weary of everything except Lucille. How then
+can I listen to such advice? For me it must be Lucille, or that little
+journey into the mists, from which one does not return."
+
+Felix was silent. The pathos of this thing touched him.
+
+"I will not dispute the right of those who have taken her from me," Mr.
+Sabin continued, "but I want her back. She is necessary to me. My purse,
+my life, my brains are there to be thrown into the scales. I will buy
+her, or fight for her, or rejoin their ranks myself. But I want her
+back."
+
+Still Felix was silent. He was looking steadfastly into the fire.
+
+"You have heard me," Mr. Sabin said.
+
+"I have heard you," Felix answered. "My advice stands."
+
+"I know now," Mr. Sabin said, "that I have a hard task before me. They
+shall have me for a friend or an enemy. I can still make myself felt as
+either. You have nothing more to say?"
+
+"Nothing!"
+
+"Then let us part company," Mr. Sabin said, "or talk of something more
+cheerful. You depress me, Felix. Let Duson bring us wine. You look like
+a death's head."
+
+Felix roused himself.
+
+"You will go your own way," he said. "Now that you have chosen I will
+tell you this. I am glad. Yes, let Duson bring wine. I will drink to
+your health and to your success. There have been times when men have
+performed miracles. I shall drink to that miracle."
+
+Duson brought also a letter, which Mr. Sabin, with a nod towards Felix,
+opened. It was from Helene.
+
+     "15 Park Lane, London,
+     "Thursday Morning.
+
+     "My DEAR UNCLE,--
+
+     "I want you to come to luncheon to-day.  The Princess de Catelan is
+     here, and I am expecting also Mr. Brott, the Home Secretary--our
+     one great politician, you know.  Many people say that he is the
+     most interesting man in England, and must be our next Prime Minister.
+     Such people interest you, I know.  Do come.
+
+                                                  "Yours sincerely,
+                                                       "HELENE."
+
+Mr. Sabin repeated the name to himself as he stood for a moment with the
+letter in his hand.
+
+"Brott! What a name for a statesman! Well, here is your health, Felix. I
+do not often drink wine in the morning, but--"
+
+He broke off in the middle of his sentence. The glass which Felix had
+been in the act of raising to his lips lay shattered upon the floor, and
+a little stream of wine trickled across the carpet. Felix himself seemed
+scarcely conscious of the disaster. His cheeks were white, and he leaned
+across the table towards Mr. Sabin.
+
+"What name did you say--what name?"
+
+Mr. Sabin referred again to the letter which he held in his hand.
+
+"Brott!" he repeated. "He is Home Secretary, I believe."
+
+"What do you know about him?"
+
+"Nothing," Mr. Sabin answered. "My niece, the Countess of Camperdown,
+asks me to meet him to-day at luncheon. Explain yourself, my young
+friend. There is a fresh glass by your side."
+
+Felix poured himself out a glass and drank it off. But he remained
+silent.
+
+"Well?"
+
+Felix picked up his gloves and stick.
+
+"You are asked to meet Mr. Brott at luncheon to-day?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Are you going?"
+
+"Certainly!"
+
+Felix nodded.
+
+"Very good," he said. "I should advise you to cultivate his
+acquaintance. He is a very extraordinary man."
+
+"Come, Felix," Mr. Sabin said. "You owe me something more lucid in the
+way of explanations. Who is he?"
+
+"A statesman--successful, ambitious. He expects to be Prime Minister."
+
+"And what have I to do with him, or he with me?" Mr. Sabin asked
+quietly.
+
+Felix shook his head.
+
+"I cannot tell you," he said. "Yet I fancy that you and he may some time
+be drawn together."
+
+Mr. Sabin asked no more questions, but he promptly sat down and accepted
+his niece's invitation. When he looked round Felix had gone. He rang the
+bell for Duson and handed him the note.
+
+"My town clothes, Duson," he ordered. "I am lunching out."
+
+The man bowed and withdrew. Mr. Sabin remained for a few moments in deep
+thought.
+
+"Brott!" he repeated. "Brott! It is a singular name."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+So this was the man! Mr. Sabin did not neglect his luncheon, nor was he
+ever for a moment unmindful of the grey-headed princess who chatted away
+by his side with all the vivacity of her race and sex. But he watched
+Mr. Brott.
+
+A man this! Mr. Sabin was a judge, and he appraised him rightly. He saw
+through that courteous geniality of tone and gesture; the ready-made
+smile, although it seemed natural enough, did not deceive him.
+Underneath was a man of iron, square-jawed, nervous, forceful. Mr. Brott
+was probably at that time the ablest politician of either party in the
+country. Mr. Sabin knew it. He found himself wondering exactly at what
+point of their lives this man and he would come into contact.
+
+After luncheon Helene brought them together.
+
+"I believe," she said to Mr. Brott, "that you have never met my UNCLE.
+May I make you formally acquainted? UNCLE, this is Mr. Brott, whom
+you must know a great deal about even though you have been away for so
+long--the Duc de Souspennier."
+
+The two men bowed and Helene passed on. Mr. Sabin leaned upon his stick
+and watched keenly for any sign in the other's face. If he expected to
+find it he was disappointed. Either this man had no knowledge of who he
+was, or those things which were to come between them were as yet unborn.
+
+They strolled together after the other guests into the winter gardens,
+which were the envy of every hostess in London. Mr. Sabin lit a
+cigarette, Mr. Brott regretfully declined. He neither smoked nor drank
+wine. Yet he was disposed to be friendly, and selected a seat where they
+were a little apart from the other guests.
+
+"You at least," he remarked, in answer to an observation of Mr. Sabin's,
+"are free from the tyranny of politics. I am assuming, of course, that
+your country under its present form of government has lost its hold upon
+you."
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled.
+
+"It is a doubtful boon," he said. "It is true that I am practically an
+exile. Republican France has no need of me. Had I been a soldier I could
+still have remained a patriot. But for one whose leanings were towards
+politics, neither my father before me nor I could be of service to our
+country. You should be thankful," he continued with a slight smile,
+"that you are an Englishman. No constitution in the world can offer so
+much to the politician who is strong enough and fearless enough."
+
+Mr. Brott glanced towards his twinkling eyes.
+
+"Do you happen to know what my politics are?" he asked.
+
+Mr. Sabin hesitated.
+
+"Your views, I know, are advanced," he said. "For the rest I have
+been abroad for years. I have lost touch a little with affairs in this
+country."
+
+"I am afraid," Mr. Brott said, "that I shall shock you. You are an
+aristocrat of the aristocrats, I a democrat of the democrats. The people
+are the only masters whom I own. They first sent me to Parliament."
+
+"Yet," Mr. Sabin remarked, "you are, I understand, in the Cabinet."
+
+Mr. Brott glanced for a moment around. The Prime Minister was somewhere
+in the winter gardens.
+
+"That," he declared, "is an accident. I happened to be the only man
+available who could do the work when Lord Kilbrooke died. I am telling
+you only what is an open secret. But I am afraid I am boring you. Shall
+we join the others?"
+
+"Not unless you yourself are anxious to," Mr. Sabin begged. "It is
+scarcely fair to detain you talking to an old man when there are so many
+charming women here. But I should be sorry for you to think me hidebound
+in my prejudices. You must remember that the Revolution decimated my
+family. It was a long time ago, but the horror of it is still a live
+thing."
+
+"Yet it was the natural outcome," Mr. Brott said, "of the things
+which went before. Such hideous misgovernment as generations of your
+countrymen had suffered was logically bound to bring its own reprisal."
+
+"There is truth in what you say," Mr. Sabin admitted. He did not want to
+talk about the French Revolution.
+
+"You are a stranger in London, are you not?" Mr. Brott asked.
+
+"I feel myself one," Mr. Sabin answered. "I have been away for a few
+years, and I do not think that there is a city in the world where social
+changes are so rapid. I should perhaps except the cities of the country
+from which I have come. But then America is a universe of itself."
+
+For an instant Mr. Brott gave signs of the man underneath. The air of
+polite interest had left his face. He glanced swiftly and keenly at his
+companion. Mr. Sabin's expression was immutable. It was he who scored,
+for he marked the change, whilst Mr. Brott could not be sure whether he
+had noticed it or not.
+
+"You have been living in America, then?"
+
+"For several years--yes."
+
+"It is a country," Mr. Brott said, "which I am particularly anxious to
+visit. I see my chances, however, grow fewer and fewer as the years go
+by."
+
+"For one like yourself," Mr. Sabin said, "whose instincts and sympathies
+are wholly with the democracy, a few months in America would be very
+well spent."
+
+"And you," Mr. Brott remarked, "how did you get on with the people?"
+
+Mr. Sabin traced a pattern with his stick upon the marble floor.
+
+"I lived in the country," he said, "I played golf and read and rested."
+
+"Were you anywhere near New York?" Mr. Brott asked.
+
+"A few hours' journey only," Mr. Sabin answered. "My home was in a very
+picturesque part, near Lenox."
+
+Mr. Brott leaned a little forward.
+
+"You perhaps know then a lady who spent some time in that
+neighbourhood--a Mrs. James Peterson. Her husband was, I believe, the
+American consul in Vienna."
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled very faintly. His face betrayed no more than a natural
+and polite interest. There was nothing to indicate the fact that his
+heart was beating like the heart of a young man, that the blood was
+rushing hot through his veins.
+
+"Yes," he said, "I know her very well. Is she in London?"
+
+Mr. Brott hesitated. He seemed a little uncertain how to continue.
+
+"To tell you the truth," he said, "I believe that she has reasons for
+desiring her present whereabouts to remain unknown. I should perhaps not
+have mentioned her name at all. It was, I fancy, indiscreet of me. The
+coincidence of hearing you mention the name of the place where I believe
+she resided surprised my question. With your permission we will abandon
+the subject."
+
+"You disappoint me," Mr. Sabin said quietly. "It would have given
+me much pleasure to have resumed my acquaintance with the lady in
+question."
+
+"You will, without doubt, have an opportunity," Mr. Brott said, glancing
+at his watch and suddenly rising. "Dear me, how the time goes."
+
+He rose to his feet. Mr. Sabin also rose.
+
+"Must I understand," he said in a low tone, "that you are not at liberty
+to give me Mrs. Peterson's address?"
+
+"I am not at liberty even," Mr. Brott answered, with a frown, "to
+mention her name. It will give me great pleasure, Duke, to better my
+acquaintance with you. Will you dine with me at the House of Commons one
+night next week?"
+
+"I shall be charmed," Mr. Sabin answered. "My address for the next
+few days is at the Carlton. I am staying there under my family name of
+Sabin--Mr. Sabin. It is a fancy of mine--it has been ever since I became
+an alien--to use my title as little as possible."
+
+Mr. Brott looked for a moment puzzled.
+
+"Your pseudonym," he remarked thoughtfully, "seems very familiar to me."
+
+Mr. Sabin shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"It is a family name," he remarked, "but I flattered myself that it was
+at least uncommon."
+
+"Fancy, no doubt," Mr. Brott remarked, turning to make his adieux to his
+hostess.
+
+Mr. Sabin joined a fresh group of idlers under the palms. Mr. Brott
+lingered over his farewells.
+
+"Your UNCLE, Lady Camperdown," he said, "is delightful. I enjoy meeting
+new types, and he represents to me most perfectly the old order of
+French aristocracy."
+
+"I am glad," Helene said, "that you found him interesting. I felt sure
+you would. In fact, I asked him especially to meet you."
+
+"You are the most thoughtful of hostesses," he assured her. "By the bye,
+your UNCLE has just told me the name by which he is known at the hotel.
+Mr. Sabin! Sabin! It recalls something to my mind. I cannot exactly
+remember what."
+
+She smiled upon him. People generally forgot things when Helene smiled.
+
+"It is an odd fancy of his to like his title so little," she remarked.
+"At heart no one is prouder of their family and antecedents. I have
+heard him say, though, that an exile had better leave behind him even
+his name."
+
+"Sabin!" Mr. Brott repeated. "Sabin!"
+
+"It is an old family name," she murmured.
+
+His face suddenly cleared. She knew that he had remembered. But he took
+his leave with no further reference to it.
+
+"Sabin!" he repeated to himself when alone in his carriage. "That was
+the name of the man who was supposed to be selling plans to the German
+Government. Poor Renshaw was in a terrible stew about it. Sabin! An
+uncommon name."
+
+He had ordered the coachman to drive to the House of Commons. Suddenly
+he pulled the check-string.
+
+"Call at Dorset House," he directed.
+
+      *          *            *          *            *
+
+Mr. Sabin lingered till nearly the last of the guests had gone. Then he
+led Helene once more into the winter gardens.
+
+"May I detain you for one moment's gossip?" he asked. "I see your
+carriage at the door."
+
+She laughed.
+
+"It is nothing," she declared. "I must drive in the Park for an hour.
+One sees one's friends, and it is cool and refreshing after these heated
+rooms. But at any time. Talk to me as long as you will, and then I will
+drop you at the Carlton."
+
+"It is of Brott!" he remarked. "Ah, I thank you, I will smoke. Your
+husband's taste in cigarettes is excellent."
+
+"Perhaps mine!" she laughed.
+
+Mr. Sabin shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"In either case I congratulate you. This man Brott. He interests me."
+
+"He interests every one. Why not? He is a great personality."
+
+"Politically," Mr. Sabin said, "the gauge of his success is of course
+the measure of the man. But he himself--what manner of a man is he?"
+
+She tapped with her fingers upon the little table by their side.
+
+"He is rich," she said, "and an uncommon mixture of the student and the
+man of society. He refuses many more invitations than he accepts, he
+entertains very seldom but very magnificently. He has never been known
+to pay marked attentions to any woman, even the scandal of the clubs has
+passed him by. What else can I say about him, I wonder?" she continued
+reflectively. "Nothing, I think, except this. He is a strong man. You
+know that that counts for much."
+
+Mr. Sabin was silent. Perhaps he was measuring his strength in some
+imagined encounter with this man. Something in his face alarmed Helene.
+She suddenly leaned forward and looked at him more closely.
+
+"UNCLE," she exclaimed in a low voice, "there is something on your mind.
+Do not tell me that once more you are in the maze, that again you have
+schemes against this country."
+
+He smiled at her sadly enough, but she was reassured.
+
+"You need have no fear," he told her. "With politics--I have finished.
+Why I am here, what I am here for I will tell you very soon. It is to
+find one whom I have lost--and who is dear to me. Forgive me if for
+to-day I say no more. Come, if you will you shall drive me to my hotel."
+
+He offered his arm with the courtly grace which he knew so well how to
+assume. Together they passed out to her carriage.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+"After all," Lady Carey sighed, throwing down a racing calendar
+and lighting a cigarette, "London is the only thoroughly civilized
+Anglo-Saxon capital in the world. Please don't look at me like that,
+Duchess. I know--this is your holy of holies, but the Duke smokes
+here--I've seen him. My cigarettes are very tiny and very harmless."
+
+The Duchess, who wore gold-rimmed spectacles, and was a person of
+weight in the councils of the Primrose League, went calmly on with her
+knitting.
+
+"My dear Muriel," she said, "if my approval or disapproval was of the
+slightest moment to you, it is not your smoking of which I should first
+complain. I know, however, that you consider yourself a privileged
+person. Pray do exactly as you like, but don't drop the ashes upon the
+carpet."
+
+Lady Carey laughed softly.
+
+"I suppose I am rather a thorn in your side as a relative," she
+remarked. "You must put it down to the roving blood of my ancestors. I
+could no more live the life of you other women than I could fly. I must
+have excitement, movement, all the time."
+
+A tall, heavily built man, who had been reading some letters at the
+other end of the room, came sauntering up to them.
+
+"Well," he said, "you assuredly live up to your principles, for you
+travel all over the world as though it were one vast playground."
+
+"And sometimes," she remarked, "my journeys are not exactly successful.
+I know that that is what you are dying to say."
+
+"On the contrary," he said, "I do not blame you at all for this last
+affair. You brought Lucille here, which was excellent. Your failure as
+regards Mr. Sabin is scarcely to be fastened upon you. It is Horser whom
+we hold responsible for that."
+
+She laughed.
+
+"Poor Horser! It was rather rough to pit a creature like that against
+Souspennier."
+
+The man shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"Horser," he said, "may not be brilliant, but he had a great
+organisation at his back. Souspennier was without friends or influence.
+The contest should scarcely have been so one-sided. To tell you the
+truth, my dear Muriel, I am more surprised that you yourself should have
+found the task beyond you."
+
+Lady Carey's face darkened.
+
+"It was too soon after the loss of Lucille," she said, "and besides,
+there was his vanity to be reckoned with. It was like a challenge to
+him, and he had taken up the glove before I returned to New York."
+
+The Duchess looked up from her work.
+
+"Have you had any conversation with my husband, Prince?" she asked.
+
+The Prince of Saxe Leinitzer twirled his heavy moustache and sank into a
+chair between the two women.
+
+"I have had a long talk with him," he announced. "And the result?" the
+Duchess asked.
+
+"The result I fear you would scarcely consider satisfactory," the Prince
+declared. "The moment that I hinted at the existence of--er--conditions
+of which you, Duchess, are aware, he showed alarm, and I had all that
+I could do to reassure him. I find it everywhere amongst your
+aristocracy--this stubborn confidence in the existence of the reigning
+order of things, this absolute detestation of anything approaching
+intrigue."
+
+"My dear man, I hope you don't include me," Lady Carey exclaimed.
+
+"You, Lady Muriel," he answered, with a slow smile, "are an exception to
+all rules. No, you are a rule by yourself."
+
+"To revert to the subject then for a moment," the Duchess said stiffly.
+"You have made no progress with the Duke?"
+
+"None whatever," Saxe Leinitzer admitted. "He was sufficiently emphatic
+to inspire me with every caution. Even now I have doubts as to whether
+I have altogether reassured him. I really believe, dear Duchess, that we
+should be better off if you could persuade him to go and live upon his
+estates."
+
+The Duchess smiled grimly.
+
+"Whilst the House of Lords exists," she remarked, "you will never
+succeed in keeping Algernon away from London. He is always on the point
+of making a speech, although he never does it."
+
+"I have heard of that speech," Lady Carey drawled, from her low seat.
+"It is to be a thoroughly enlightening affair. All the great social
+questions are to be permanently disposed of. The Prime Minister will
+come on his knees and beg Algernon to take his place."
+
+The Duchess looked up over her knitting.
+
+"Algernon is at least in earnest," she remarked drily. "And he has the
+good conscience of a clean living and honest man."
+
+"What an unpleasant possession it must be," Lady Carey remarked sweetly.
+"I disposed of my conscience finally many years ago. I am not sure, but
+I believe that it was the Prince to whom I entrusted the burying of it.
+By the bye, Lucille will be here directly, I suppose. Is she to be told
+of Souspennier's arrival in London?"
+
+"I imagine," the Prince said, with knitted brows, "that it will not be
+wise to keep it from her. It is impossible to conceal her whereabouts,
+and the papers will very shortly acquaint her with his."
+
+"And," Lady Carey asked, "how does the little affair progress?"
+
+"Admirably," the Prince answered. "Already some of the Society papers
+are beginning to chatter about the friendship existing between a Cabinet
+Minister and a beautiful Hungarian lady of title, etc., etc. The fact of
+it is that Brott is in deadly earnest. He gives himself away every time.
+If Lucille has not lost old cleverness she will be able to twist him
+presently around her little finger."
+
+"If only some one would twist him on the rack," the Duchess murmured
+vindictively. "I tried to read one of his speeches the other day. It was
+nothing more nor less than blasphemy. I do not think that I am naturally
+a cruel woman, but I would hand such men over to the public executioner
+with joy."
+
+Lucille came in, as beautiful as ever, but with tired lines under her
+full dark eyes. She sank into a low chair with listless grace.
+
+"Reginald Brott again, I suppose," she remarked curtly. "I wish the man
+had never existed."
+
+"That is a very cruel speech, Lucille," the Prince said, with a
+languishing glance towards her, "for if it had not been for Brott we
+should never have dared to call you out from your seclusion."
+
+"Then more heartily than ever," Lucille declared, "I wish the man had
+never been born. You cannot possibly flatter yourself, Prince, that your
+summons was a welcome one."
+
+He shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"I shall never, be able to believe," he said, "that the Countess
+Radantz was able to do more than support existence in a small American
+town--without society, with no scope for her ambitions, detached
+altogether from the whole civilized world."
+
+"Which only goes to prove, Prince," Lucille remarked contemptuously,
+"that you do not understand me in the least. As a place of residence
+Lenox would compare very favourably with--say Homburg, and for
+companionship you forget my husband. I never met the woman yet who did
+not prefer the company of one man, if only it were the right one, to the
+cosmopolitan throng we call society."
+
+"It sounds idyllic, but very gauche," Lady Carey remarked drily. "In
+effect it is rather a blow on the cheek for you, Prince. Of course you
+know that the Prince is in love with you, Lucille?"
+
+"I wish he were," she answered, looking lazily out of the window.
+
+He bent over her.
+
+"Why?"
+
+"I would persuade him to send me home again," she answered coldly.
+
+The Duchess looked up from her knitting. "Your husband has saved you the
+journey," she remarked, "even if you were able to work upon the Prince's
+good nature to such an extent."
+
+Lucille started round eagerly.
+
+"What do you mean?" she cried.
+
+"Your husband is in London," the Duchess answered.
+
+Lucille laughed with the gaiety of a child. Like magic the lines from
+beneath her eyes seemed to have vanished. Lady Carey watched her with
+pale cheeks and malevolent expression.
+
+"Come, Prince," she cried mockingly, "it was only a week ago that you
+assured me that my husband could not leave America. Already he is in
+London. I must go to see him. Oh, I insist upon it."
+
+Saxe Leinitzer glanced towards the Duchess. She laid down her knitting.
+
+"My dear Countess," she said firmly, "I beg that you will listen to me
+carefully. I speak to you for your own good, and I believe I may add,
+Prince, that I speak with authority."
+
+"With authority!" the Prince echoed.
+
+"We all," the Duchess continued, "look upon your husband's arrival as
+inopportune and unfortunate. We are all agreed that you must be kept
+apart. Certain obligations have been laid upon you. You could not
+possibly fulfil them with a husband at your elbow. The matter will be
+put plainly before your husband, as I am now putting it before you. He
+will be warned not to attempt to see or communicate with you as your
+husband. If he or you disobey the consequences will be serious."
+
+Lucille shrugged her shoulders.
+
+"It is easy to talk," she said, "but you will not find it easy to keep
+Victor away when he has found out where I am."
+
+The Prince intervened.
+
+"We have no objection to your meeting," he said, "but it must be as
+acquaintances. There must be no intermission or slackening in your task,
+and that can only be properly carried out by the Countess Radantz and
+from Dorset House."
+
+Lucille smothered her disappointment.
+
+"Dear me," she said. "You will find Victor a little hard to persuade."
+
+There was a moment's silence. Then the Prince spoke slowly, and watching
+carefully the effect of his words upon Lucille.
+
+"Countess," he said, "it has been our pleasure to make of your task so
+far as possible a holiday. Yet perhaps it is wiser to remind you that
+underneath the glove is an iron hand. We do not often threaten, but
+we brook no interference. We have the means to thwart it. I bear no
+ill-will to your husband, but to you I say this. If he should be so mad
+as to defy us, to incite you to disobedience, he must pay the penalty."
+
+A servant entered.
+
+"Mr. Reginald Brott is in the small drawing-room, your Grace," he
+announced. "He enquired for the Countess Radantz."
+
+Lucille rose. When the servant had disappeared she turned round for a
+moment, and faced the Prince. A spot of colour burned in her cheeks, her
+eyes were bright with anger.
+
+"I shall remember your words, Prince," she said. "So far from mine
+being, however, a holiday task, it is one of the most wearisome and
+unpleasant I ever undertook. And in return for your warnings let me tell
+you this. If you should bring any harm upon my husband you shall answer
+for it all your days to me. I will do my duty. Be careful that you do
+not exceed yours."
+
+She swept out of the room. Lady Carey laughed mockingly at the Prince.
+
+"Poor Ferdinand!" she exclaimed.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+He had been kept waiting longer than usual, and he had somehow the
+feeling that his visit was ill-timed, when at last she came to him. He
+looked up eagerly as she entered the little reception room which he had
+grown to know so well during the last few weeks, and it struck him for
+the first time that her welcome was a little forced, her eyes a little
+weary.
+
+"I haven't," he said apologetically, "the least right to be here."
+
+"At least," she murmured, "I may be permitted to remind you that you are
+here without an invitation."
+
+"The worse luck," he said, "that one should be necessary."
+
+"This is the one hour of the day," she remarked, sinking into a large
+easy-chair, "which I devote to repose. How shall I preserve my fleeting
+youth if you break in upon it in this ruthless manner?"
+
+"If I could only truthfully say that I was sorry," he answered, "but I
+can't. I am here--and I would rather be here than anywhere else in the
+world."
+
+She looked at him with curving lips; and even he, who had watched her
+often, could not tell whether that curve was of scorn or mirth.
+
+"They told me," she said impressively, "that you were different--a
+woman-hater, honest, gruff, a little cynical. Yet those are the speeches
+of your salad days. What a disenchantment!"
+
+"The things which one invents when one is young," he said, "come perhaps
+fresh from the heart in later life. The words may sound the same, but
+there is a difference."
+
+"Come," she said, "you are improving. That at any rate is ingenious.
+Suppose you tell me now what has brought you here before four o'clock,
+when I am not fit to be seen?"
+
+He smiled. She shrugged her shoulders.
+
+"I mean it. I haven't either my clothes or my manners on yet. Come,
+explain."
+
+"I met a man who interested me," he answered. "He comes from America,
+from Lenox!"
+
+He saw her whiten. He saw her fingers clutch the sides of her chair.
+
+"From Lenox? And his name?"
+
+"The Duke of Souspennier! He takes himself so seriously that he even
+travels incognito. At the hotel he calls himself Mr. Sabin."
+
+"Indeed!"
+
+"I wondered whether you might not know him?"
+
+"Yes, I know him."
+
+"And in connection with this man," Brott continued, "I have something in
+the nature of a confession to make. I forgot for a moment your request.
+I even mentioned your name."
+
+The pallor had spread to her cheeks, even to her lips. Yet her eyes were
+soft and brilliant, so brilliant that they fascinated him.
+
+"What did he say? What did he ask?"
+
+"He asked for your address. Don't be afraid. I made some excuse. I did
+not give it."
+
+For the life of him he could not tell whether she was pleased or
+disappointed. She had turned her shoulder to him. She was looking
+steadily out of the window, and he could not see her face.
+
+"Why are you curious about him?" she asked.
+
+"I wish I knew. I think only because he came from Lenox."
+
+She turned her face slowly round towards him. He was astonished to see
+the dark rings under her eyes, the weariness of her smile.
+
+"The Duke of Souspennier," she said slowly, "is an old and a dear friend
+of mine. When you tell me that he is in London I am anxious because
+there are many here who are not his friends--who have no cause to love
+him."
+
+"I was wrong then," he said, "not to give him your address."
+
+"You were right," she answered. "I am anxious that he should not know
+it. You will remember this?" He rose and bowed over her hand.
+
+"This has been a selfish interlude," he said. "I have destroyed your
+rest, and I almost fear that I have also disturbed your peace of mind.
+Let me take my leave and pray that you may recover both."
+
+She shook her head.
+
+"Do not leave me," she said. "I am low-spirited. You shall stay and
+cheer me."
+
+There was a light in his eyes which few people would have recognised.
+She rose with a little laugh and stood leaning towards the fire, her
+elbow upon the broad mantel, tall, graceful, alluring. Her soft crimson
+gown, with its wealth of old lace, fell around her in lines and curves
+full of grace. The pallor of her face was gone now--the warmth of the
+fire burned her cheeks. Her voice became softer.
+
+"Sit down and talk to me," she murmured. "Do you remember the old days,
+when you were a very timid young secretary of Sir George Nomsom, and
+I was a maid-of-honour at the Viennese Court? Dear me, how you have
+changed!"
+
+"Time," he said, "will not stand still for all of us. Yet my memory
+tells me how possible it would be--for indeed those days seem but as
+yesterday."
+
+He looked up at her with a sudden jealousy. His tone shook with passion.
+No one would have recognised Brott now. In his fiercest hour of debate,
+his hour of greatest trial, he had worn his mask, always master of
+himself and his speech. And now he had cast it off. His eyes were
+hungry, his lips twitched.
+
+"As yesterday! Lucille, I could kill you when I think of those days. For
+twenty years your kiss has lain upon my lips--and you--with you--it has
+been different."
+
+She laughed softly upon him, laughed more with her eyes than with her
+lips. She watched him curiously.
+
+"Dear me!" she murmured, "what would you have? I am a woman--I have been
+a woman all my days, and the memory of one kiss grows cold. So I will
+admit that with me--it has been different. Come! What then?"
+
+He groaned.
+
+"I wonder," he said, "what miserable fate, what cursed stroke of fortune
+brought you once more into my life?"
+
+She threw her head back and laughed at him, this time heartily,
+unaffectedly.
+
+"What adorable candour!" she exclaimed. "My dear friend, how amiable you
+are."
+
+He looked at her steadfastly, and somehow the laugh died away from her
+lips.
+
+"Lucille, will you marry me?"
+
+"Marry you? I? Certainly not."
+
+"And why not?"
+
+"For a score of reasons, if you want them," she answered. "First,
+because I think it is delightful to have you for a friend. I can never
+quite tell what you are going to do or say. As a husband I am almost
+sure that you would be monotonous. But then, how could you avoid it?
+It is madness to think of destroying a pleasant friendship in such a
+manner."
+
+"You are mocking me," he said sadly.
+
+"Well," she said, "why not? Your own proposal is a mockery."
+
+"A mockery! My proposal!"
+
+"Yes," she answered steadily. "You know quite well that the very
+thought of such a thing between you and me is an absurdity. I abhor your
+politics, I detest your party. You are ambitious, I know. You intend to
+be Prime Minister, a people's Prime Minister. Well, for my part, I hate
+the people. I am an aristocrat. As your wife I should be in a perfectly
+ridiculous position. How foolish! You have led me into talking of this
+thing seriously. Let us forget all this rubbish."
+
+He stood before her--waiting patiently, his mouth close set, his manner
+dogged with purpose.
+
+"It is not rubbish," he said. "It is true that I shall be Prime
+Minister. It is true also that you will be my wife."
+
+She shrank back from him--uneasily. The fire in his eyes, the ring in
+his tone distressed her.
+
+"As for my politics, you do not understand them. But you shall! I will
+convert you to my way of thinking. Yes, I will do that. The cause of the
+people, of freedom, is the one great impulse which beats through all the
+world. You too shall hear it."
+
+"Thank you," she said. "I have no wish to hear it. I do not believe in
+what you call freedom for the people. I have discovered in America how
+uncomfortable a people's country can be."
+
+"Yet you married an American. You call yourself still the Countess
+Radantz... but you married Mr. James B. Peterson!"
+
+"It is true, my friend," she answered. "But the American in question
+was a person of culture and intelligence, and at heart he was no more
+a democrat than I am. Further, I am an extravagant woman, and he was a
+millionaire."
+
+"And you, after his death, without necessity--went to bury yourself in
+his country."
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"I am jealous of every year of your life which lies hidden from me," he
+said slowly.
+
+"Dear me--how uncomfortable!"
+
+"Before you--reappeared," he said, "I had learnt, yes I had learnt to do
+without you. I had sealed up the one chapter of my life which had in
+it anything to do with sentiment. Your coming has altered all that. You
+have disturbed the focus of my ambitions. Lucille! I have loved you for
+more than half a lifetime. Isn't it time I had my reward?"
+
+He took a quick step towards her. In his tone was the ring of mastery,
+the light in his eyes was compelling. She shrank back, but he seized one
+of her hands. It lay between his, a cold dead thing.
+
+"What have my politics to do with it?" he asked fiercely. "You are not
+an Englishwoman. Be content that I shall set you far above these gods of
+my later life. There is my work to be done, and I shall do it. Let me
+be judge of these things. Believe me that it is a great work. If you are
+ambitious--give your ambitions into my keeping, and I will gratify them.
+Only I cannot bear this suspense-these changing moods. Marry me-now at
+once, or send me back to the old life."
+
+She drew her fingers away, and sank down into her easy-chair. Her head
+was buried in her hands. Was she thinking or weeping? He could not
+decide. While he hesitated she looked up, and he saw that there was no
+trace of tears upon her face.
+
+"You are too masterful," she said gently. "I will not marry you. I will
+not give myself body and soul to any man. Yet that is what you ask. I am
+not a girl. My opinions are as dear to me in their way as yours are to
+you. You want me to close my eyes while you drop sugar plums into my
+mouth. That is not my idea of life. I think that you had better go away.
+Let us forget these things."
+
+"Very well," he answered. "It shall be as you say." He did not wait for
+her to ring, nor did he attempt any sort of farewell. He simply took
+up his hat, and before she could realise his intention he had left the
+room. Lucille sat quite still, looking into the fire.
+
+"If only," she murmured, "if only this were the end."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+Duson entered the sitting-room, noiseless as ever, with pale,
+passionless face, the absolute prototype of the perfect French servant,
+to whom any expression of vigorous life seems to savour of presumption.
+He carried a small silver salver, on which reposed a card.
+
+"The gentleman is in the ante-room, sir," he announced.
+
+Mr. Sabin took up the card and studied it.
+
+"Lord Robert Foulkes."
+
+"Do I know this gentleman, Duson?" Mr. Sabin asked.
+
+"Not to my knowledge, sir," the man answered.
+
+"You must show him in," Mr. Sabin said, with a sigh. "In this country
+one must never be rude to a lord."
+
+Duson obeyed. Lord Robert Foulkes was a small young man, very carefully
+groomed, nondescript in appearance. He smiled pleasantly at Mr. Sabin
+and drew off his gloves.
+
+"How do you do, Mr. Sabin?" he said. "Don't remember me, I daresay. Met
+you once or twice last time you were in London. I wish I could say that
+I was glad to see you here again."
+
+Mr. Sabin's forehead lost its wrinkle. He knew where he was now.
+
+"Sit down, Lord Robert," he begged. "I do not remember you, it is
+true, but I am getting an old man. My memory sometimes plays me strange
+tricks."
+
+The young man looked at Mr. Sabin and laughed softly. Indeed, Mr. Sabin
+had very little the appearance of an old man. He was leaning with
+both hands clasped upon his stick, his face alert, his eyes bright and
+searching.
+
+"You carry your years well, Mr. Sabin. Yet while we are on the subject,
+do you know that London is the unhealthiest city in the world?"
+
+"I am always remarkably well here," Mr. Sabin said drily.
+
+"London has changed since your last visit," Lord Robert said, with a
+gentle smile. "Believe me if I say--as your sincere well-wisher--that
+there is something in the air at present positively unwholesome to you.
+I am not sure that unwholesome is not too weak a word."
+
+"Is this official?" Mr. Sabin asked quietly.
+
+The young man fingered the gold chain which disappeared in his trousers
+pocket.
+
+"Need I introduce myself?" he asked.
+
+"Quite unnecessary," Mr. Sabin assured him. "Permit me to reflect for
+a few minutes. Your visit comes upon me as a surprise. Will you smoke?
+There are cigarettes at your elbow."
+
+"I am entirely at your service," Lord Robert answered. "Thanks, I will
+try one of your cigarettes. You were always famous for your tobacco."
+
+There was a short silence. Mr. Sabin had seldom found it more difficult
+to see the way before him.
+
+"I imagined," he said at last, "from several little incidents which
+occurred previous to my leaving New York that my presence here was
+regarded as superfluous. Do you know, I believe that I could convince
+you to the contrary."
+
+Lord Robert raised his eyebrows.
+
+"Mr. dear Mr. Sabin," he said, "pray reflect. I am a messenger. No more!
+A hired commissionaire!"
+
+Mr. Sabin bowed.
+
+"You are an ambassador!" he said.
+
+The young man shook his head.
+
+"You magnify my position," he declared. "My errand is done when I remind
+you that it is many years since you visited Paris, that Vienna is as
+fascinating a city as ever, and Pesth a few hours journey beyond. But
+London--no, London is not possible for you. After the seventh day from
+this London would be worse than impossible."
+
+Mr. Sabin smoked thoughtfully for a few moments.
+
+"Lord Robert," he said, "I have, I believe, the right of a personal
+appeal. I desire to make it."
+
+Lord Robert looked positively distressed.
+
+"My dear sir," he said, "the right of appeal, any right of any sort,
+belongs only to those within the circle."
+
+"Exactly," Mr. Sabin agreed. "I claim to belong there."
+
+Lord Roberts shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"You force me to remind you," he said, "of a certain decree--a decree of
+expulsion passed five years ago, and of which I presume due notification
+was given to you."
+
+Mr. Sabin shook his head very slowly.
+
+"I deny the legality of that decree," he said. "There can be no such
+thing as expulsion."
+
+"There was Lefanu," Lord Robert murmured.
+
+"He died," Mr. Sabin answered. "That was reasonable enough."
+
+"Your services had been great," Lord Robert said, "and your fault was
+but venial."
+
+"Nevertheless," Mr. Sabin said, "the one was logical, the other is not."
+
+"You claim, then," the young man said, "to be still within the circle?"
+
+"Certainly!"
+
+"You are aware that this is a very dangerous claim?"
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled, but he said nothing. Lord Robert hastened to excuse
+himself.
+
+"I beg your pardon," he said. "I should have known better than to have
+used such a word to you. Permit me to take my leave."
+
+Mr. Sabin rose.
+
+"I thank you, sir," he said, "for the courteous manner in which you have
+discharged your mission."
+
+Lord Robert bowed.
+
+"My good wishes," he said, "are yours."
+
+Mr. Sabin when alone called Duson to him.
+
+"Have you any report to make, Duson?" he asked.
+
+"None, sir!"
+
+Mr. Sabin dismissed him impatiently.
+
+"After all, I am getting old. He is young and he is strong--a worthy
+antagonist. Come, let us see what this little volume has to say about
+him."
+
+He turned over the pages rapidly and read aloud.
+
+"Reginald Cyril Brott, born 18--, son of John Reginald Brott, Esq.,
+of Manchester. Educated at Harrow and Merton College, Cambridge, M.A.,
+LL.D., and winner of the Rudlock History Prize. Also tenth wrangler.
+Entered the diplomatic service on leaving college, and served as junior
+attache at Vienna."
+
+Mr. Sabin laid down the volume, and made a little calculation. At the
+end of it he had made a discovery. His face was very white and set.
+
+"I was at Petersburg," he muttered. "Now I think of it, I heard
+something of a young English attache. But--"
+
+He touched the bell.
+
+"Duson, a carriage!"
+
+At Camperdown House he learned that Helene was out--shopping, the
+hall porter believed. Mr. Sabin drove slowly down Bond Street, and was
+rewarded by seeing her brougham outside a famous milliner's. He waited
+for her upon the pavement. Presently she came out and smiled her
+greetings upon him.
+
+"You were waiting for me?" she asked.
+
+"I saw your carriage."
+
+"How delightful of you. Let me take you back to luncheon."
+
+He shook his head.
+
+"I am afraid," he said, "that I should be poor company. May I drive home
+with you, at any rate, when you have finished?"
+
+"Of course you may, and for luncheon we shall be quite alone, unless
+somebody drops in."
+
+He took his seat beside her in the carriage. "Helene," he said, "I am
+interested in Mr. Brott. No, don't look at me like that. You need have
+no fear. My interest is in him as a man, and not as a politician. The
+other days are over and done with now. I am on the defensive and hard
+pressed."
+
+Her face was bright with sympathy. She forgot everything except her
+old admiration for him. In the clashing of their wills the victory had
+remained with her. And as for those things which he had done, the cause
+at least had been a great one. Her happiness had come to her through
+him. She bore him no grudge for that fierce opposition which, after all,
+had been fruitless.
+
+"I believe you, UNCLE," she said affectionately. "If I can help you in
+any way I will."
+
+"This Mr. Brott! He goes very little into society, I believe."
+
+"Scarcely ever," she answered. "He came to us because my husband is one
+of the few Radical peers."
+
+"You have not heard of any recent change in him--in this respect?"
+
+"Well, I did hear Wolfendon chaffing him the other day about somebody,"
+she said. "Oh, I know. He has been going often to the Duchess of
+Dorset's. He is such an ultra Radical, you know, and the Dorsets are
+fierce Tories. Wolfendon says it is a most unwise thing for a good
+Radical who wants to retain the confidence of the people to be seen
+about with a Duchess."
+
+"The Duchess of Dorset," Mr. Sabin remarked, "must be, well--a
+middle-aged woman."
+
+Helene laughed.
+
+"She is sixty if she is a day. But I daresay she herself is not the
+attraction. There is a very beautiful woman staying with her--the
+Countess Radantz. A Hungarian, I believe."
+
+Mr. Sabin sat quite still. His face was turned away from Helene. She
+herself was smiling out of the window at some acquaintances.
+
+"I wonder if there is anything more that I can tell you?" she asked
+presently.
+
+He turned towards her with a faint smile.
+
+"You have told me," he said, "all that I want to know."
+
+She was struck by the change in his face, the quietness of his tone was
+ominous.
+
+"Am I meant to understand?" she said dubiously "because I don't in the
+least. It seems to me that have told you nothing. I cannot imagine what
+Mr. Brott and you have in common."
+
+"If your invitation to lunch still holds good," he said, "may I accept
+it? Afterwards, if you can spare me a few minutes I will make things
+quite clear to you."
+
+She laughed.
+
+"You will find," she declared, "that I shall leave you little peace for
+luncheon. I am consumed with curiosity."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+Nevertheless, Mr. Sabin lunched with discretion, as usual, but with no
+lack of appetite. It chanced that they were alone. Lord Camperdown was
+down in the Midlands for a day's hunting, and Helene had ensured their
+seclusion from any one who might drop in by a whispered word to the
+hall porter as they passed into the house. It seemed to her that she had
+never found Mr. Sabin more entertaining, had never more appreciated his
+rare gift of effortless and anecdotal conversation. What a marvelous
+memory! He knew something of every country from the inside. He had been
+brought at various times during his long diplomatic career into contact
+with most of the interesting people in the world. He knew well how
+to separate the grain from the chaff according to the tastes of
+his listener. The pathos of his present position appealed to her
+irresistibly. The possibilities of his life had been so great, fortune
+had treated him always so strangely. The greatest of his schemes had
+come so near to success, the luck had turned against him only at the
+very moment of fruition. Helene felt very kindly towards her UNCLE as
+she led him, after luncheon, to a quiet corner of the winter garden,
+where a servant had already arranged a table with coffee and liqueurs
+and cigarettes. Unscrupulous all his life, there had been an element of
+greatness in all his schemes. Even his failures had been magnificent,
+for his successes he himself had seldom reaped the reward. And now in
+the autumn of his days she felt dimly that he was threatened with some
+evil thing against which he stood at bay single-handed, likely perhaps
+to be overpowered. For there was something in his face just now which
+was strange to her.
+
+"Helene," he said quietly, "I suppose that you, who knew nothing of
+me till you left school, have looked upon me always as a selfish,
+passionless creature--a weaver of plots, perhaps sometimes a dreamer of
+dreams, but a person wholly self-centred, always self-engrossed?"
+
+She shook her head.
+
+"Not selfish!" she objected. "No, I never thought that. It is the wrong
+word."
+
+"At least," he said, "you will be surprised to hear that I have loved
+one woman all my life."
+
+She looked at him half doubtfully.
+
+"Yes," she said, "I am surprised to hear that."
+
+"I will surprise you still more. I was married to her in America within
+a month of my arrival there. We have lived together ever since. And I
+have been very happy. I speak, of course, of Lucille!"
+
+"It is amazing," she murmured. "You must tell me all about it."
+
+"Not all," he answered sadly. "Only this. I met her first at Vienna
+when I was thirty-five, and she was eighteen. I treated her shamefully.
+Marriage seemed to me, with all my dreams of great achievements, an act
+of madness. I believed in myself and my career. I believed that it was
+my destiny to restore the monarchy to our beloved country. And I wanted
+to be free. I think that I saw myself a second Napoleon. So I won her
+love, took all that she had to give, and returned nothing.
+
+"In the course of years she married the son of the American Consul at
+Vienna. I was obliged, by the bye, to fight her brother, and he carried
+his enmity to me through life. I saw her sometimes in the course
+of years. She was always beautiful, always surrounded by a host of
+admirers, always cold. When the end of my great plans here came, and I
+myself was a fugitive, her brother found me out. He gave me a letter to
+deliver in America. I delivered it--to his sister.
+
+"She was as beautiful as ever, and alone in the world. It seemed to me
+that I realised then how great my folly had been. For always I had loved
+her, always there had been that jealously locked little chamber in my
+life. Helene, she pointed no finger of scorn to my broken life. She
+uttered no reproaches. She took me as I was, and for three years our
+life together has been to me one long unbroken harmony. Our tastes were
+very similar. She was well read, receptive, a charming companion. Ennui
+was a word of which I have forgotten the meaning. And it seemed so with
+her, too, for she grew younger and more beautiful."
+
+"And why is she not with you?" Helene cried. "I must go and see her. How
+delightful it sounds!"
+
+"One day, about three months ago," Mr. Sabin continued, "she left me to
+go to New York for two days. Her milliner in Paris had sent over, and
+twice a year Lucille used to buy clothes. I had sometimes accompanied
+her, but she knew how I detested New York, and this time she did not
+press me to go. She left me in the highest spirits, as tender and
+gracefully affectionate as ever. She never returned."
+
+Helene started in her chair.
+
+"Oh, UNCLE!" she cried.
+
+"I have never seen her since," he repeated.
+
+"Have you no clue? She could not have left you willingly. Have you no
+idea where she is?"
+
+He bowed his head slowly.
+
+"Yes," he said, "I know where she is. She came to Europe with Lady
+Carey. She is staying with the Duchess of Dorset."
+
+"The Countess Radantz?" Helene cried.
+
+"It was her maiden name," he answered.
+
+There was a moment's silence. Helene was bewildered.
+
+"Then you have seen her?"
+
+He shook his head slowly.
+
+"No. I did not even know where she was until you told me."
+
+"But why do you wait a single moment?" she asked. "There must be some
+explanation. Let me order a carriage now. I will drive round to Dorset
+House with you."
+
+She half rose. He held out his hand and checked her.
+
+"There are other things to be explained," he said quickly. "Sit down,
+Helene."
+
+She obeyed him, mystified.
+
+"For your own sake," he continued, "there are certain facts in
+connection with this matter which I must withhold. All I can tell you
+is this. There are people who have acquired a hold upon Lucille so great
+that she is forced to obey their bidding. Lady Carey is one, the Duchess
+of Dorset is another. They are no friends of mine, and apparently
+Lucille has been taken away from me by them."
+
+"A--a hold upon her?" Helene repeated vaguely.
+
+"It is all I can tell you. You must suppose an extreme case. You may
+take my word for it that under certain circumstances Lucille would have
+no power to deny them anything."
+
+"But--without a word of farewell. They could not insist upon her leaving
+you like that! It is incredible!"
+
+"It is quite possible," Mr. Sabin said.
+
+Helene caught herself looking at him stealthily. Was it possible that
+this wonderful brain had given way at last? There were no signs of it
+in his face or expression. But the Duchess of Dorset! Lady Carey! These
+were women of her own circle--Londoners, and the Duchess, at any rate,
+a woman of the very highest social position and unimpeached
+conventionality.
+
+"This sounds--very extraordinary, UNCLE!" she remarked a little lamely.
+
+"It is extraordinary," he answered drily. "I do not wonder that you find
+it hard to believe me. I--"
+
+"Not to believe--to understand!"
+
+He smiled.
+
+"We will not distinguish! After all, what does it matter? Assume, if
+you cannot believe, that Lucille's leaving me may have been at the
+instigation of these people, and therefore involuntary. If this be so
+I have hard battle to fight to win her back, but in the end I shall do
+it."
+
+She nodded sympathetically.
+
+"I am sure," she said, "that you will not find it difficult. Tell me,
+cannot I help you in any way? I know the Duchess very well indeed--well
+enough to take you to call quite informally if you please. She is a
+great supporter of what they call the Primrose League here. I do not
+understand what it is all about, but it seems that I may not join
+because my husband is a Radical."
+
+Mr. Sabin looked for a moment over his clasped hands through the faint
+blue cloud of cigarette smoke, and sundry possibilities flashed through
+his mind to be at once rejected. He shook his head.
+
+"No!" he said firmly. "I do not wish for your help at present, directly
+or indirectly. If you meet the Countess I would rather that you did not
+mention my name. There is only one person whom, if you met at Dorset
+House or anywhere where Lucille is, I would ask you to watch. That is
+Mr. Brott!"
+
+It was to be a conversation full of surprises for Helene. Mr. Brott!
+Her hand went up to her forehead for a moment, and a little gesture of
+bewilderment escaped her.
+
+"Will you tell me," she asked almost plaintively, "what on earth Mr.
+Brott can have to do with this business--with Lucille--with you--with
+any one connected with it?"
+
+Mr. Sabin shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"Mr. Brott," he remarked, "a Cabinet Minister of marked Radical
+proclivities, has lately been a frequent visitor at Dorset House,
+which is the very home of the old aristocratic Toryism. Mr. Brott was
+acquainted with Lucille many years ago--in Vienna. At that time he
+was, I believe, deeply interested in her. I must confess that Mr. Brott
+causes me some uneasiness."
+
+"I think--that men always know," Helene said, "if they care to. Was
+Lucille happy with you?"
+
+"Absolutely. I am sure of it."
+
+"Then your first assumption must be correct," she declared. "You cannot
+explain things to me, so I cannot help you even with my advice. I am
+sorry."
+
+He turned his head towards her and regarded her critically, as though
+making some test of her sincerity.
+
+"Helene," he said gravely, "it is for your own sake that I do not
+explain further, that I do not make things clearer to you. Only I wanted
+you to understand why I once more set foot in Europe. I wanted you to
+understand why I am here. It is to win back Lucille. It is like that
+with me, Helene. I, who once schemed and plotted for an empire, am once
+more a schemer and a worker, but for no other purpose than to recover
+possession of the woman whom I love. You do not recognise me, Helene. I
+do not recognise myself. Nevertheless, I would have you know the truth.
+I am here for that, and for no other purpose."
+
+He rose slowly to his feet. She held out both her hands and grasped his.
+
+"Let me help you," she begged. "Do! This is not a matter of politics or
+anything compromising. I am sure that I could be useful to you."
+
+"So you can," he answered quietly. "Do as I have asked you. Watch Mr.
+Brott!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+Mr. Brott and Mr. Sabin dined together--not, as it happened, at the
+House of Commons, but at the former's club in Pall Mall. For Mr. Sabin
+it was not altogether an enjoyable meal. The club was large, gloomy and
+political; the cooking was exactly of that order which such surroundings
+seemed to require. Nor was Mr. Brott a particularly brilliant host. Yet
+his guest derived a certain amount of pleasure from the entertainment,
+owing to Brott's constant endeavours to bring the conversation round to
+Lucille.
+
+"I find," he said, as they lit their cigarettes, "that I committed an
+indiscretion the other day at Camperdown House!"
+
+Mr. Sabin assumed the puzzled air of one endeavouring to pin down an
+elusive memory.
+
+"Let me see," he murmured doubtfully. "It was in connection with--"
+
+"The Countess Radantz. If you remember, I told you that it was her
+desire just now to remain incognito. I, however, unfortunately forgot
+this during the course of our conversation."
+
+"Yes, I remember. You told me where she was staying. But the Countess
+and I are old acquaintances. I feel sure that she did not object to your
+having given me her address. I could not possibly leave London without
+calling upon her."
+
+Mr. Brott moved in his chair uneasily.
+
+"It seems presumption on my part to make such a suggestion perhaps," he
+said slowly, "but I really believe that the Countess is in earnest with
+reference to her desire for seclusion just at present. I believe that
+she is really very anxious that her presence in London, just now should
+not be generally known."
+
+"I am such a very old friend," Mr. Sabin said. "I knew her when she was
+a child."
+
+Mr. Brott nodded.
+
+"It is very strange," he said, "that you should have come together again
+in such a country as America, and in a small town too."
+
+"Lenox," Mr. Sabin said, "is a small place, but a great center. By the
+bye, is there not some question of an impending marriage on the part of
+the Countess?"
+
+"I have heard--of nothing of the sort," Mr. Brott said, looking up
+startled. Then, after a moment's pause, during which he studied closely
+his companion's imperturbable face, he added the question which forced
+its way to his lips.
+
+"Have you?"
+
+Mr. Sabin looked along his cigarette and pinched it affectionately. It
+was one of his own, which he had dexterously substituted for those which
+his host had placed at his disposal.
+
+"The Countess is a very charming, a very beautiful, and a most
+attractive woman," he said slowly. "Her marriage has always seemed to me
+a matter of certainty."
+
+Mr. Brott hesitated, and was lost.
+
+"You are an old friend of hers," he said. "You perhaps know more of her
+recent history than I do. For a time she seemed to drop out of my life
+altogether. Now that she has come back I am very anxious to persuade her
+to marry me."
+
+A single lightning-like flash in Mr. Sabin's eyes for a moment
+disconcerted his host. But, after all, it was gone with such amazing
+suddenness that it left behind it a sense of unreality. Mr. Brott
+decided that after all it must have been fancy.
+
+"May I ask," Mr. Sabin said quietly, "whether the Countess appears to
+receive your suit with favour?"
+
+Mr. Brott hesitated.
+
+"I am afraid I cannot go so far as to say that she does," he said
+regretfully. "I do not know why I find myself talking on this matter to
+you. I feel that I should apologise for giving such a personal turn to
+the conversation."
+
+"I beg that you will do nothing of the sort," Mr. Sabin protested. "I
+am, as a matter of fact, most deeply interested."
+
+"You encourage me," Mr. Brott declared, "to ask you a question--to me a
+very important question."
+
+"It will give me great pleasure," Mr. Sabin assured him, "if I am able
+to answer it."
+
+"You know," Mr. Brott said, "of that portion of her life concerning
+which I have asked no questions, but which somehow, whenever I think of
+it, fills me with a certain amount of uneasiness. I refer to the last
+three years which the Countess has spent in America."
+
+Mr. Sabin looked up, and his lips seemed to move, but he said nothing.
+Mr. Brott felt perhaps that he was on difficult ground.
+
+"I recognise the fact," he continued slowly, "that you are the friend
+of the Countess, and that you and I are nothing more than the merest
+acquaintances. I ask my question therefore with some diffidence. Can you
+tell me from your recent, more intimate knowledge of the Countess
+and her affairs, whether there exists any reason outside her own
+inclinations why she should not accept my proposals of marriage?"
+
+Mr. Sabin had the air of a man gravely surprised. He shook his head very
+slightly.
+
+"You must not ask me such a question as that, Mr. Brott," he said. "It
+is not a subject which I could possibly discuss with you. But I have no
+objection to going so far as this. My experience of the Countess is that
+she is a woman of magnificent and effective will power. I think if she
+has any desire to marry you there are or could be no obstacles existing
+which she would not easily dispose of."
+
+"There are obstacles, then?"
+
+"You must not ask me that," Mr. Sabin said, with a certain amount of
+stiffness. "The Countess is a very dear friend of mine, and you must
+forgive me now if I say that I prefer not to discuss her any longer."
+
+A hall servant entered the room, bearing a note for Mr. Brott. He
+received it at first carelessly, but his expression changed the moment
+he saw the superscription. He turned a little away, and Mr. Sabin
+noticed that the fingers which tore open the envelope were trembling.
+The note seemed short enough, but he must have read it half a dozen
+times before at last he turned round to the messenger.
+
+"There is no answer," he said in a low tone.
+
+He folded the note and put it carefully into his breast pocket. Mr.
+Sabin subdued an insane desire to struggle with him and discover, by
+force, if necessary, who was the sender of those few brief lines. For
+Mr. Brott was a changed man.
+
+"I am afraid," he said, turning to his guest, "that this has been a very
+dull evening for you. To tell you the truth, this club is not exactly
+the haunt of pleasure-seekers. It generally oppresses me for the first
+hour or so. Would you like a hand at bridge, or a game of billiards? I
+am wholly at your service--until twelve o'clock."
+
+Mr. Sabin glanced at the clock.
+
+"You are very good," he said, "but I was never much good at indoor
+games. Golf has been my only relaxation for many years. Besides, I too
+have an engagement for which I must leave in a very few minutes."
+
+"It is very good of you," Mr. Brott said, "to have given me the pleasure
+of your company. I have the greatest possible admiration for your niece,
+Mr. Sabin, and Camperdown is a thundering good fellow. He will be our
+leader in the House of Lords before many years have passed."
+
+"He is, I believe," Mr. Sabin remarked, "of the same politics as
+yourself."
+
+"We are both," Mr. Brott answered, with a smile, "I am afraid outside
+the pale of your consideration in this respect. We are both Radicals."
+
+Mr. Sabin lit another cigarette and glanced once more at the clock.
+
+"A Radical peer!" he remarked. "Isn't that rather an anomaly? The
+principles of Radicalism and aristocracy seem so divergent."
+
+"Yet," Mr. Brott said, "they are not wholly irreconcilable. I have often
+wished that this could be more generally understood. I find myself at
+times very unpopular with people, whose good opinion I am anxious to
+retain, simply owing to this too general misapprehension."
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled gently.
+
+"You were referring without doubt--" he began.
+
+"To the Countess," Brott admitted. "Yes, it is true. But after all," he
+added cheerfully, "I believe that our disagreements are mainly upon the
+surface. The Countess is a woman of wide culture and understanding. Her
+mind, too, is plastic. She has few prejudices."
+
+Mr. Sabin glanced at the clock for the third time, and rose to his feet.
+He was quite sure now that the note was from her. He leaned on his
+stick and took his leave quietly. All the time he was studying his host,
+wondering at his air of only partially suppressed excitement.
+
+"I must thank you very much, Mr. Brott," he said, "for your
+entertainment. I trust that you will give me an opportunity shortly of
+reciprocating your hospitality."
+
+The two men parted finally in the hall. Mr. Sabin stepped into his hired
+carriage.
+
+"Dorset House!" he directed.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+"This little difference of opinion," the Prince remarked, looking
+thoughtfully through the emerald green of his liqueur, "interests me.
+Our friend Dolinski here thinks that he will not come because he will
+be afraid. De Brouillac, on the contrary, says that he will not come
+because he is too sagacious. Felix here, who knows him best, says that
+he will not come because he prefers ever to play the game from outside
+the circle, a looker-on to all appearance, yet sometimes wielding an
+unseen force. It is a strong position that."
+
+Lucille raised her head and regarded the last speaker steadily.
+
+"And I, Prince!" she exclaimed, "I say that he will come because he is a
+man, and because he does not know fear."
+
+The Prince of Saxe Leinitzer bowed low towards the speaker.
+
+"Dear Lucille," he said, so respectfully that the faint irony of his
+tone was lost to most of those present, "I, too, am of your opinion.
+The man who has a right, real or fancied, to claim you must indeed be
+a coward if he suffered dangers of any sort to stand in the way. After
+all, dangers from us! Is it not a little absurd?"
+
+Lucille looked away from the Prince with a little shudder. He laughed
+softly, and drank his liqueur. Afterwards he leaned back for a moment
+in his chair and glanced thoughtfully around at the assembled company as
+though anxious to impress upon his memory all who were present. It was a
+little group, every member of which bore a well-known name. Their host,
+the Duke of Dorset, in whose splendid library they were assembled, was,
+if not the premier duke of the United Kingdom, at least one of those
+whose many hereditary offices and ancient family entitled him to a
+foremost place in the aristocracy of the world. Raoul de Brouillac,
+Count of Orleans, bore a name which was scarcely absent from a single
+page of the martial history of France. The Prince of Saxe Leinitzer kept
+up still a semblance of royalty in the State which his ancestors had
+ruled with despotic power. Lady Muriel Carey was a younger daughter of
+a ducal house, which had more than once intermarried with Royalty. The
+others, too, had their claims to be considered amongst the greatest
+families of Europe.
+
+The Prince glanced at his watch, and then at the bridge tables ready set
+out.
+
+"I think," he said, "that a little diversion--what does our hostess
+say?"
+
+"Two sets can start at least," the Duchess said. "Lucille and I will
+stay out, and the Count de Brouillac does not play."
+
+The Prince rose.
+
+"It is agreed," he said. "Duke, will you honour me? Felix and Dolinski
+are our ancient adversaries. It should be an interesting trial of
+strength."
+
+There was a general movement, a re-arrangement of seats, and a little
+buzz of conversation. Then silence. Lucille sat back in a great chair,
+and Lady Carey came over to her side.
+
+"You are nervous to-night, Lucille," she said.
+
+"Yes, I am nervous," Lucille admitted. "Why not? At any moment he may be
+here."
+
+"And you care--so much?" Lady Carey said, with a hard little laugh.
+
+"I care so much," Lucille echoed.
+
+Lady Carey shook out her amber satin skirt and sat down upon a low
+divan. She held up her hands, small white hands, ablaze with jewels, and
+looked at them for a moment thoughtfully.
+
+"He was very much in earnest when I saw him at Sherry's in New York,"
+she remarked, "and he was altogether too clever for Mr. Horser and our
+friends there. After all their talk and boasting too. Why, they are
+ignorant of the very elements of intrigue."
+
+Lucille sighed.
+
+"Here," she said, "it is different. The Prince and he are ancient
+rivals, and Raoul de Brouillac is no longer his friend. Muriel, I am
+afraid of what may happen."
+
+Lady Carey shrugged her shoulders.
+
+"He is no fool," she said in a low tone. "He will not come here with a
+magistrate's warrant and a policeman to back it up, nor will he attempt
+to turn the thing into an Adelphi drama. I know him well enough to be
+sure that he will attempt nothing crude. Lucille, don't you find it
+exhilarating?"
+
+"Exhilarating? But why?"
+
+"It will be a game played through to the end by masters, and you, my
+dear woman, are the inspiration. I think that it is most fascinating."
+
+Lucille looked sadly into the fire.
+
+"I think," she said, "that I am weary of all these things. I seem to
+have lived such a very long time. At Lenox I was quite happy. Of my own
+will I would never have left it."
+
+Lady Carey's thin lips curled a little, her blue eyes were full of
+scorn. She was not altogether a pleasant woman to look upon. Her cheeks
+were thin and hollow, her eyes a little too prominent, some hidden
+expression which seemed at times to flit from one to the other of her
+features suggested a sensuality which was a little incongruous with her
+somewhat angular figure and generally cold demeanour. But that she was a
+woman of courage and resource history had proved.
+
+"How idyllic!" she exclaimed. "Positively medieval! Fancy living with
+one man three years."
+
+Lucille smiled.
+
+"Why, not? I never knew a woman yet however cold however fond of change,
+who had not at some time or other during her life met a man for whose
+sake she would have done--what I did. I have had as many admirers--as
+many lovers, I suppose, as most women. But I can truthfully say that
+during the last three years no thought of one of them has crossed my
+mind."
+
+Lady Carey laughed scornfully.
+
+"Upon my word," she said. "If the Prince had not a temper, and if they
+were not playing for such ruinous points, I would entertain them all
+with these delightful confidences. By the bye, the Prince himself was
+once one of those who fell before your chariot wheels, was he not? Look
+at him now--sideways. What does he remind you of?"
+
+Lucille raised her eyes.
+
+"A fat angel," she answered, "or something equally distasteful. How I
+hate those mild eyes and that sweet, slow smile. I saw him thrash a poor
+beater once in the Saxe Leinitzer forests. Ugh!"
+
+"I should not blame him for that," Lady Carey said coldly. "I like
+masterful men, even to the point of cruelty. General Dolinski there
+fascinates me. I believe that he keeps a little private knout at home
+for his wife and children. A wicked little contrivance with an ivory
+handle. I should like to see him use it."
+
+Lucille shuddered. This tete-a-tete did not amuse her. She rose and
+looked over one of the bridge tables for a minute. The Prince, who was
+dealing, looked up with a smile.
+
+"Be my good angel, Countess," he begged. "Fortune has deserted me
+to-night. You shall be the goddess of chance, and smile your favours
+upon me."
+
+A hard little laugh came from the chair where Lady Carey sat. She turned
+her head towards them, and there was a malicious gleam in her eyes.
+
+"Too late, Prince," she exclaimed. "The favours of the Countess are all
+given away. Lucille has become even as one of those flaxen-haired dolls
+of your mountain villages. She has given her heart away, and she is
+sworn to perpetual constancy."
+
+The Prince smiled.
+
+"The absence," he said, glancing up at the clock, "of that most
+fortunate person should surely count in our favour."
+
+Lucille followed his eyes. The clock was striking ten. She shrugged her
+shoulders.
+
+"If the converse also is true, Prince," she said, "you can scarcely have
+anything to hope for from me. For by half-past ten he will be here."
+
+The Prince picked up his cards and sorted them mechanically.
+
+"We shall see," he remarked. "It is true, Countess, that you are here,
+but in this instance you are set with thorns."
+
+"To continue the allegory, Prince," she answered, passing on to the next
+table, "also with poisonous berries. But to the hand which has no fear,
+neither are harmful."
+
+The Prince laid down his hand.
+
+"Now I really believe," he said gently, "that she meant to be rude.
+Partner, I declare hearts!"
+
+Felix was standing out from the next table whilst his hand was being
+played by General Dolinski, his partner. He drew her a little on one
+side.
+
+"Do not irritate Saxe Leinitzer," he whispered. "Remember, everything
+must rest with him. Twice to-night you have brought that smile to his
+lips, and I never see it without thinking of unpleasant things."
+
+"You are right," she answered; "but I hate him so. He and Muriel Carey
+seem to have entered into some conspiracy to lead me on to say things
+which I might regret."
+
+"Saxe Leinitzer," he said, "has never forgotten that he once aspired to
+be your lover."
+
+"He has not failed to let me know it," she answered. "He has even
+dared--ah!"
+
+There was a sudden stir in the room. The library door was thrown open.
+The solemn-visaged butler stood upon the threshold.
+
+"His Grace the Duke of Souspennier!" he announced.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+There was for the moment a dead silence. The soft patter of cards no
+longer fell upon the table. The eyes of every one were turned upon the
+newcomers. And he, leaning upon his stick, looked only for one person,
+and having found her, took no heed of any one else.
+
+"Lucille!"
+
+She rose from her seat and stood with hands outstretched towards him,
+her lips parted in a delightful smile, her eyes soft with happiness.
+
+"Victor, welcome! It is like you to have found me, and I knew that you
+would come."
+
+He raised her fingers to his lips--tenderly--with the grace of a prince,
+but all the affection of a lover. What he said to her none could hear,
+for his voice was lowered almost to a whisper. But the colour stained
+her cheeks, and her blush was the blush of a girl.
+
+A movement of the Duchess recalled him to a sense of his social duty. He
+turned courteously to her with extended hand.
+
+"I trust," he said, "that I may be forgiven my temporary fit of
+aberration. I cannot thank you sufficiently, Duchess, for your kind
+invitation."
+
+Her answering smile was a little dubious.
+
+"I am sure," she said "that we are delighted to welcome back amongst us
+so old and valued a friend. I suppose you know every one?"
+
+Mr. Sabin looked searchingly around, exchanging bows with those whose
+faces were familiar to him. But between him and the Prince of Saxe
+Leinitzer there passed no pretense at any greeting. The two men eyed one
+another for a moment coldly. Each seemed to be trying to read the other
+through.
+
+"I believe," Mr. Sabin said, "that I have that privilege. I see,
+however, that I am interrupting your game. Let me beg you to continue.
+With your permission, Duchess, I will remain a spectator. There are many
+things which my wife and I have to say to one another."
+
+The Prince of Saxe Leinitzer laid his cards softly upon the table. He
+smiled upon Mr. Sabin--a slow, unpleasant smile.
+
+"I think," he said slowly, "that our game must be postponed. It is a
+pity, but I think it had better be so."
+
+"It must be entirely as you wish," Mr. Sabin answered. "I am at your
+service now or later."
+
+The Prince rose to his feet.
+
+"Monsieur le Due de Souspennier," he said, "what are we to conclude from
+your presence here this evening?"
+
+"It is obvious," Mr. Sabin answered. "I claim my place amongst you."
+
+"You claim to be one of us?"
+
+"I do!"
+
+"Ten years ago," the Prince continued, "you were granted immunity from
+all the penalties and obligations which a co-membership with us might
+involve. This privilege was extended to you on account of certain great
+operations in which you were then engaged, and the object of which
+was not foreign to our own aims. You are aware that the period of that
+immunity is long since past."
+
+Mr. Sabin leaned with both hands upon his stick, and his face was like
+the face of a sphinx. Only Lucille, who knew him best of all those
+there, saw him wince for a moment before this reminder of his great
+failure.
+
+"I am not accustomed," Mr. Sabin said quietly, "to shirk my share of the
+work in any undertaking with which I am connected. Only in this case I
+claim to take the place of the Countess Lucille, my wife. I request that
+the task, whatever it may be which you have imposed upon her, may be
+transferred to me."
+
+The Prince's smile was sweet, but those who knew him best wondered what
+evil it might betoken for his ancient enemy.
+
+"You offer yourself, then, as a full member?"
+
+"Assuredly!"
+
+"Subject," he drawled, "to all the usual pains and privileges?"
+
+"Certainly!"
+
+The Prince played with the cards upon the table. His smooth, fair face
+was unruffled, almost undisturbed. Yet underneath he was wondering
+fiercely, eagerly, how this might serve his ends.
+
+"The circumstances," he said at last, "are peculiar. I think that we
+should do well to consult together--you and I, Felix, and Raoul here."
+
+The two men named rose up silently. The Prince pointed to a small
+round table at the farther end of the apartment, half screened off by a
+curtained recess.
+
+"Am I also," Mr. Sabin asked, "of your company?"
+
+The Prince shook his head.
+
+"I think not," he said. "In a few moments we will return."
+
+Mr. Sabin moved away with a slight enigmatic gesture. Lucille gathered
+up her skirts, making room for him by her side on a small sofa.
+
+"It is delightful to see you, Victor," she murmured. "It is delightful
+to know that you trusted me."
+
+Mr. Sabin looked at her, and the smile which no other woman had ever
+seen softened for a moment his face.
+
+"Dear Lucille," he murmured, "how could you ever doubt it? There was a
+day, I admit, when the sun stood still, when, if I had felt inclined to
+turn to light literature, I should have read aloud the Book of Job. But
+afterwards--well, you see that I am here."
+
+She laughed.
+
+"I knew that you would come," she said, "and yet I knew that it would
+be a struggle between you and them. For--the Prince--" she murmured,
+lowering her voice, "had pledged his word to keep us apart."
+
+Mr. Sabin raised his head, and his eyes traveled towards the figure of
+the man who sat with his back to them in the far distant corner of the
+room.
+
+"The Prince," he said softly, "is faithful to his ancient enmities."
+
+Lucille's face was troubled. She turned to her companion with a little
+grimace.
+
+"He would have me believe," she murmured, "that he is faithful to other
+things besides his enmities."
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled.
+
+"I am not jealous," he said softly, "of the Prince of Saxe Leinitzer!"
+
+As though attracted by the mention of his name, which must, however,
+have been unheard by him, the Prince at that moment turned round and
+looked for a moment towards them. He shot a quick glance at Lady Carey.
+Almost at once she rose from her chair and came across to them.
+
+"The Prince's watch-dog," Lucille murmured. "Hateful woman! She is bound
+hand and foot to him, and yet--"
+
+Her eyes met his, and he laughed.
+
+"Really," he said, "you and I in our old age might be hero and heroine
+of a little romance--the undesiring objects of a hopeless affection!"
+
+Lady Carey sank into a low chair by their side. "You two," she said,
+with a slow, malicious smile, "are a pattern to this wicked world. Don't
+you know that such fidelity is positively sinful, and after three years
+in such a country too?"
+
+"It is the approach of senility," Mr. Sabin answered her. "I am an old
+man, Lady Muriel!"
+
+She shrugged her shoulders.
+
+"You are like Ulysses," she said. "The gods, or rather the goddesses,
+have helped you towards immortality."
+
+"It is," Mr. Sabin answered, "the most delicious piece of flattery I
+have ever heard."
+
+"Calypso," she murmured, nodding towards Lucille, "is by your side."
+
+"Really," Mr. Sabin interrupted, "I must protest. Lucille and I
+were married by a most respectable Episcopalian clergyman. We have
+documentary evidence. Besides, if Lucille is Calypso, what about
+Penelope?"
+
+Lady Carey smiled thoughtfully.
+
+"I have always thought," she said, "that Penelope was a myth. In your
+case I should say that Penelope represents a return to sanity--to the
+ordinary ways of life."
+
+Mr. Sabin and Lucille exchanged swift glances. He raised his eyebrows.
+
+"Our little idyll," he said, "seems to be the sport and buffet of
+every one. You forget that I am of the old world. I do not understand
+modernity."
+
+"Ulysses," she answered, "was of the old world, yet he was a wanderer in
+more senses of the word than one. And there have been times--"
+
+Her eyes sought his. He ignored absolutely the subtlety of meaning which
+lurked beneath the heavy drooping eyelids.
+
+"One travels through life," he answered, "by devious paths, and a little
+wandering in the flower-gardens by the way is the lot of every one.
+But when the journey is over, one's taste for wandering has gone--well,
+Ulysses finished his days at the hearth of Penelope."
+
+She rose and walked away. Mr. Sabin sat still and watched her as though
+listening to the soft sweep of her gown upon the carpet.
+
+"Hateful woman!" Lucille exclaimed lightly. "To make love, and such
+love, to one's lawful husband before one's face is a little crude, don't
+you think?"
+
+He shook his head.
+
+"Too obvious," he answered. "She is playing the Prince's game. Dear me,
+how interesting this will be soon."
+
+She nodded. A faint smile of bitterness had stolen into her tone.
+
+"Already," she said, "you are beginning to scent the delight of the
+atmosphere. You are stiffening for the fight. Soon--"
+
+"Ah, no! Don't say it," he whispered, taking her hand. "I shall never
+forget. If the fight seems good to me it is because you are the prize,
+and after all, you know, to fight for one's womenkind is amongst the
+primeval instincts."
+
+Lady Carey, who had been pacing the room restlessly, touching an
+ornament here, looking at a picture there, came back to them and stood
+before Mr. Sabin. She had caught his last words.
+
+"Primeval instincts!" she exclaimed mockingly. "What do you know about
+them, you of all men, a bundle of nerves and brains, with a motor for
+a heart, and an automatic brake upon your passions? Upon my word, I
+believe that I have solved the mystery of your perennial youth. You have
+found a way of substituting machinery for the human organ, and you are
+wound up to go for ever."
+
+"You have found me out," he admitted. "Professor Penningram of Chicago
+will supply you too with an outfit. Mention my name if you like. It is a
+wonderful country America."
+
+The Prince came over to them, fair and bland with no trace upon his
+smooth features or in his half-jesting tone of any evil things.
+
+"Souspennier," he said, holding out his hand, "welcome back once more to
+your old place. I am happy to say that there appears to be no reason why
+your claim should not be fully admitted."
+
+Mr. Sabin rose to his feet.
+
+"I presume," he said, "that no very active demands are likely to be made
+upon my services. In this country more than any other I fear that the
+possibilities of my aid are scanty."
+
+The Prince smiled.
+
+"It is a fact," he said, "which we all appreciate. Upon you at present
+we make no claim."
+
+There was a moment's intense silence. A steely light glittered in Mr.
+Sabin's eyes. He and the Prince alone remained standing. The Duchess of
+Dorset watched them through her lorgnettes; Lady Carey watched too
+with an intense eagerness, her eyes alight with mingled cruelty and
+excitement. Lucille's eyes were so bright that one might readily believe
+the tears to be glistening beneath.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+"I will not pretend," Mr. Sabin said, "to misunderstand you. My help is
+not required by you in this enterprise, whatever it may be, in which you
+are engaged. On the contrary, you have tried by many and various ways to
+keep me at a distance. But I am here, Prince--here to be dealt with and
+treated according to my rights."
+
+The Prince stroked his fair moustache.
+
+"I am a little puzzled," he admitted, "as to this--shall I not call it
+self-assertiveness?--on the part of my good friend Souspennier."
+
+"I will make it quite clear then," Mr. Sabin answered. "Lucille, will
+you favour me by ringing for your maid. The carriage is at the door."
+
+The Prince held out his hand.
+
+"My dear Souspennier," he said, "you must not think of taking Lucille
+away from us."
+
+"Indeed," Mr. Sabin answered coolly. "Why not?"
+
+"It must be obvious to you," the Prince answered, "that we did not
+send to America for Lucille without an object. She is now engaged in an
+important work upon our behalf. It is necessary that she should remain
+under this roof."
+
+"I demand," Mr. Sabin said, "that the nature of that necessity should be
+made clear to me."
+
+The Prince smiled with the air of one disposed to humour a wilful child.
+
+"Come!" he said. "You must know very well that I cannot stand here
+and tell you the bare outline, much less the details of an important
+movement. To-morrow, at any hour you choose, one from amongst us
+shall explain the whole matter--and the part to be borne in it by the
+Countess!"
+
+"And to-night?" Mr. Sabin asked.
+
+The Prince shrugged his shoulders and glanced at the clock.
+
+"To-night, my dear friend," he said, "all of us, I believe, go on to a
+ball at Carmarthen House. It would grieve me also, I am sure, Duke, to
+seem inhospitable, but I am compelled to mention the fact that the hour
+for which the carriages have been ordered is already at hand."
+
+Mr. Sabin reflected for a few moments.
+
+"Did I understand you to say," he asked, "that the help to be given to
+you by my wife, Lucille, Duchess of Souspennier, entailed her remaining
+under this roof?"
+
+The Prince smiled seraphically.
+
+"It is unfortunate," he murmured, "since you have been so gallant as
+to follow her, but it is true! You will understand this
+perfectly--to-morrow."
+
+"And why should I wait until to-morrow?" Mr. Sabin asked coolly.
+
+"I fear," the Prince said, "that it is a matter of necessity."
+
+Mr. Sabin glanced for a moment in turn at the faces of all the little
+company as though seeking to discover how far the attitude of his
+opponent met with their approval. Lady Carey's thin lips were curved
+in a smile, and her eyes met his mockingly. The others remained
+imperturbable. Last of all he looked at Lucille.
+
+"It seems," he said, smiling towards her, "that I am called upon to pay
+a heavy entrance fee on my return amongst your friends. But the Prince
+of Saxe Leinitzer forgets that he has shown me no authority, or given me
+no valid reason why I should tolerate such flagrant interference with my
+personal affairs."
+
+"To-morrow--to-morrow, my good sir!" the Prince interrupted.
+
+"No! To-night!" Mr. Sabin answered sharply. "Lucille, in the absence of
+any reasonable explanation, I challenge the right of the Prince of Saxe
+Leinitzer to rob me even for an hour of my dearest possession. I appeal
+to you. Come with me and remain with me until it has been proved, if
+ever it can be proved, that greater interests require our separation. If
+there be blame I will take it. Will you trust yourself to me?"
+
+Lucille half rose, but Lady Carey's hand was heavy upon her shoulder.
+As though by a careless movement General Dolinski and Raoul de Brouillac
+altered their positions slightly so as to come between the two. The
+Duke of Dorset had left the room. Then Mr. Sabin knew that they were all
+against him.
+
+"Lucille," he said, "have courage! I wait for you."
+
+She looked towards him, and her face puzzled him. For there flashed
+across the shoulders of these people a glance which was wholly out of
+harmony with his own state of barely subdued passion--a glance half
+tender, half humorous, full of subtle promise. Yet her words were a blow
+to him.
+
+"Victor, how is it possible? Believe me, I should come if I could.
+To-morrow--very soon, it may be possible. But now. You hear what the
+Prince says. I fear that he is right!"
+
+To Mr. Sabin the shock was an unexpected one. He had never doubted but
+that she at least was on his side. Her words found him unprepared, and
+a moment he showed his discomfiture. His recovery however, was swift and
+amazing. He bowed to Lucille, and by the time he raised his head even
+the reproach had gone from his eyes.
+
+"Dear lady," he said, "I will not venture to dispute your decision.
+Prince, will you appoint a time to-morrow when this matter shall be more
+fully explained to me?"
+
+The Prince's smile was sweetness itself, and his tone very gentle. But
+Mr. Sabin, who seldom yielded to any passionate impulse, kept his teeth
+set and his hand clenched, lest the blow he longed to deal should escape
+him.
+
+"At midday to-morrow I shall be pleased to receive you," he said.
+"The Countess, with her usual devotion and good sense, has, I trust,
+convinced you that our action is necessary!"
+
+"To-morrow at midday," Mr. Sabin said, "I will be here. I have the
+honour to wish you all good-night."
+
+His farewell was comprehensive. He did not even single out Lucille for a
+parting glance. But down the broad stairs and across the hall of Dorset
+House he passed with weary steps, leaning heavily upon his stick. It was
+a heavy blow which had fallen upon him. As yet he scarcely realised it.
+
+His carriage was delayed for a few moments, and just as he was entering
+it a young woman, plainly dressed in black, came hurrying out and
+slipped a note into his hand.
+
+"Pardon, monsieur," she exclaimed, with a smile. "I feared that I was
+too late."
+
+Mr. Sabin's fingers closed over the note, and he stepped blithely
+into the carriage. But when he tore it open and saw the handwriting he
+permitted himself a little groan of disappointment. It was not from her.
+He read the few lines and crushed the sheet of paper in his hand.
+
+  "I am having supper at the Carlton with some friends on our way
+  to C. H.  I want to speak to you for a moment.  Be in the Palm
+  Court at 12.15, but do not recognise me until I come to you.  If
+  possible keep out of sight.  If you should have left my maid will
+  bring this on to your hotel.
+                                                           "M. C."
+
+Mr. Sabin leaned back in his carriage, and a frown of faint perplexity
+contracted his forehead.
+
+"If I were a younger man," he murmured to himself, "I might believe
+that this woman was really in earnest, as well as being Saxe Leinitzer's
+jackal. We were friendly enough in Paris that year. She is unscrupulous
+enough, of course. Always with some odd fancy for the grotesque or
+unlikely. I wonder--"
+
+He pulled the check-string, and was driven to Camperdown House. A great
+many people were coming and going. Mr. Sabin found Helene's maid, and
+learnt that her mistress was just going to her room, and would be alone
+for a few minutes. He scribbled a few words on the back of a card, and
+was at once taken up to her boudoir.
+
+"My dear UNCLE," Helene exclaimed, "you have arrived most opportunely.
+We have just got rid of a few dinner people, and we are going on to
+Carmarthen House presently. Take that easy-chair, please, and, light a
+cigarette. Will you have a liqueur? Wolfendon has some old brandy which
+every one seems to think wonderful."
+
+"You are very kind, Helene," Mr. Sabin said. "I cannot refuse anything
+which you offer in so charming a manner. But I shall not keep you more
+than a few minutes."
+
+"We need not leave for an hour," Helene said, "and I am dressed except
+for my jewels. Tell me, have you seen Lucille? I am so anxious to know."
+
+"I have seen Lucille this evening," Mr. Sabin answered.
+
+"At Dorset House!"
+
+"Yes."
+
+Helene sat down, smiling.
+
+"Do tell me all about it."
+
+"There is very little to tell," Mr. Sabin answered.
+
+"She is with you--she returns at least!"
+
+Mr. Sabin shook his head.
+
+"No," he answered. "She remains at Dorset House."
+
+Helene was silent. Mr. Sabin smoked pensively a moment or two, and
+sipped the liqueur which Camperdown's own servant had just brought him.
+
+"It is very hard, Helene," he said, "to make you altogether understand
+the situation, for there are certain phases of it which I cannot discuss
+with you at all. I have made my first effort to regain Lucille, and it
+has failed. It is not her fault. I need not say that it is not mine. But
+the struggle has commenced, and in the end I shall win."
+
+"Lucille herself--" Helene began hesitatingly.
+
+"Lucille is, I firmly believe, as anxious to return to me as I am
+anxious to have her," Mr. Sabin said.
+
+Helene threw up her hands.
+
+"It is bewildering," she exclaimed.
+
+"It must seem so to you," Mr. Sabin admitted.
+
+"I wish that Lucille were anywhere else," Helene said. "The Dorset House
+set, you know, although they are very smart and very exclusive, have
+a somewhat peculiar reputation. Lady Carey, although she is such a
+brilliant woman, says and does the most insolent, the most amazing
+things, and the Prince of Saxe Leinitzer goes everywhere in Europe by
+the name of the Royal libertine. They are powerful enough almost to
+dominate society, and we poor people who abide by the conventions are
+absolutely nowhere beside them. They think that we are bourgeois because
+we have virtue, and prehistoric because we are not decadent."
+
+"The Duke--" Mr. Sabin remarked.
+
+"Oh, the Duke is quite different, of course," Helene admitted. "He is a
+fanatical Tory, very stupid, very blind to anything except his beloved
+Primrose League. How he came to lend himself to the vagaries of such a
+set I cannot imagine."
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled.
+
+"C'est la femme toujours!" he remarked. "His Grace is, I fear,
+henpecked, and the Duchess herself is the sport of cleverer people. And
+now, my dear niece, I see that the time is going. I came to know if you
+could get me a card for the ball at Carmarthen House to-night."
+
+Helene laughed softly.
+
+"Very easily, my dear UNCLE. Lady Carmarthen is Wolfendon's cousin, you
+know, and a very good friend of mine. I have half a dozen blank cards
+here. Shall I really see you there?"
+
+"I believe so," Mr. Sabin answered.
+
+"And Lucille?"
+
+"It is possible."
+
+"There is nothing I suppose which I can do in the way of intervention,
+or anything of that sort?"
+
+Mr. Sabin shook his head.
+
+"Lucille and I are the best of friends," he answered. "Talk to her, if
+you will. By the bye, is that twelve o'clock? I must hurry. Doubtless we
+shall meet again at the ball."
+
+But Carmarthen House saw nothing of Mr. Sabin that night.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+Mr. Sabin from his seat behind a gigantic palm watched her egress from
+the supper-room with a little group of friends.
+
+They came to a halt in the broad carpeted way only a few feet from him.
+Lady Carey, in a wonderful green gown, her neck and bosom ablaze with
+jewels, seemed to be making her farewells.
+
+"I must go in and see the De Lausanacs," she exclaimed. "They are in
+the blue room supping with the Portuguese Ambassador. I shall be
+at Carmarthen House within half an hour--unless my headache becomes
+unbearable. Au revoir, all of you. Good-bye, Laura!"
+
+Her friends passed on towards the great swing doors. Lady Carey
+retraced her steps slowly towards the supper-room, and made some languid
+inquiries of the head waiter as to a missing handkerchief. Then she came
+again slowly down the broad way and reached Mr. Sabin. He rose to his
+feet.
+
+"I thank you very much for your note," he said. "You have something, I
+believe, to say to me."
+
+She stood before him for a moment in silence, as though not unwilling
+that he should appreciate the soft splendour of her toilette. The jewels
+which encircled her neck were priceless and dazzling; the soft material
+of her gown, the most delicate shade of sea green, seemed to foam about
+her feet, a wonderful triumph of allegoric dressmaking. She saw that
+he was studying her, and she laughed a little uneasily, looking all the
+time into his eyes.
+
+"Shockingly overdressed, ain't I?" she said. "We were going straight to
+Carmarthen House, you know. Come and sit in this corner for a moment,
+and order me some coffee. I suppose there isn't any less public place!"
+
+"I fear not," he answered. "You will perhaps be unobserved behind this
+palm."
+
+She sank into a low chair, and he seated himself beside her. She sighed
+contentedly.
+
+"Dear me!" she said. "Do men like being run after like this?"
+
+Mr. Sabin raised his eyebrows.
+
+"I understood," he said, "that you had something to say to me of
+importance."
+
+She shot a quick look up at him.
+
+"Don't be horrid," she said in a low tone. "Of course I wanted to see
+you. I wanted to explain. Give me one of your cigarettes."
+
+He laid his case silently before her. She took one and lit it, watching
+him furtively all the time. The man brought their coffee. The place was
+almost empty now, and some of the lights were turned down.
+
+"It is very kind of you," he said slowly, "to honour me by so much
+consideration, but if you have much to say perhaps it would be better
+if you permitted me to call upon you to-morrow. I am afraid of depriving
+you of your ball--and your friends will be getting impatient."
+
+"Bother the ball--and my friends," she exclaimed, a certain strained
+note in her tone which puzzled him. "I'm not obliged to go to the thing,
+and I don't want to. I've invented a headache, and they won't even
+expect me. They know my headaches."
+
+"In that case," Mr. Sabin said, "I am entirely at your service."
+
+She sighed, and looked up at him through a little cloud of tobacco
+smoke.
+
+"What a wonderful man you are," she said softly. "You accept defeat with
+the grace of a victor. I believe that you would triumph as easily with
+a shrug of the shoulders. Haven't you any feeling at all? Don't you know
+what it is like to feel?"
+
+He smiled.
+
+"We both come," he said, "of a historic race. If ancestry is worth
+anything it should at least teach us to go about without pinning our
+hearts upon our sleeves."
+
+"But you," she murmured, "you have no heart."
+
+He looked down upon her then with still cold face and steady eyes.
+
+"Indeed," he said, "you are mistaken."
+
+She moved uneasily in her chair. She was very pale, except for a faint
+spot of pink colour in her cheeks.
+
+"It is very hard to find, then," she said, speaking quickly, her bosom
+rising and falling, her eyes always seeking to hold his. "To-night you
+see what I have done--I have, sent away my friends--and my carriage.
+They may know me here--you see what I have risked. And I don't care.
+You thought to-night that I was your enemy--and I am not. I am not your
+enemy at all."
+
+Her hand fell as though by accident upon his, and remained there. Mr.
+Sabin was very nearly embarrassed. He knew quite well that if she were
+not his enemy at that moment she would be very shortly.
+
+"Lucille," she continued, "will blame me too. I cannot help it. I want
+to tell you that for the present your separation from her is a certain
+thing. She acquiesces. You heard her. She is quite happy. She is at the
+ball to-night, and she has friends there who will make it pleasant for
+her. Won't you understand?"
+
+"No," Mr. Sabin answered.
+
+She beat the ground with her foot.
+
+"You must understand," she murmured. "You are not like these fools
+of Englishmen who go to sleep when they are married, and wake in the
+divorce court. For the present at least you have lost Lucille. You heard
+her choose. She's at the ball to-night--and I have come here to be with
+you. Won't you, please," she added, with a little nervous laugh, "show
+some gratitude?"
+
+The interruption which Mr. Sabin had prayed for came at last. The
+musicians had left, and many of the lights had been turned down. An
+official came across to them.
+
+"I beg your pardon, sir," he said, addressing Mr. Sabin, "but we are
+closing now, unless you are a guest in the hotel."
+
+"I am staying here," Mr. Sabin answered, rising, "but the lady--"
+
+Lady Carey interrupted him.
+
+"I am staying here also," she said to the man.
+
+He bowed at once and withdrew. She rose slowly to her feet and laid her
+fingers upon his arm. He looked steadily away from her.
+
+"Fortunately," he said, "I have not yet dismissed my own carriage.
+Permit me."
+
+      *          *            *           *           *
+
+Mr. Sabin leaned heavily upon his stick as he slowly made his way along
+the corridor to his rooms. Things were going ill with him indeed. He was
+not used to the fear of an enemy, but the memory of Lady Carey's white
+cheeks and indrawn lips as she had entered his carriage chilled him.
+Her one look, too, was a threat worse than any which her lips could
+have uttered. He was getting old indeed, he thought, wearily, when
+disappointment weighed so heavily upon him. And Lucille? Had he any
+real fears of her? He felt a little catch in his throat at the bare
+thought--in a moment's singular clearness of perception he realised that
+if Lucille were indeed lost the world was no longer a place for him. So
+his feet fell wearily upon the thickly carpeted floor of the corridor,
+and his face was unusually drawn and haggard as he opened the door of
+his sitting-room.
+
+And then--a transformation, amazing, stupefying. It was Lucille who
+was smiling a welcome upon him from the depths of his favourite
+easy-chair--Lucille sitting over his fire, a novel in her hand, and
+wearing a delightful rose-pink dressing-gown. Some of her belongings
+were scattered about his room, giving it a delicate air of femininity.
+The faint odour of her favourite and only perfume gave to her undoubted
+presence a wonderful sense of reality.
+
+She held out her hands to him, and the broad sleeves of her
+dressing-gown fell away from her white rounded arms. Her eyes were
+wonderfully soft, the pink upon her cheeks was the blush of a girl.
+
+"Victor," she murmured, "do not look so stupefied. Did you not believe
+that I would risk at least a little for you, who have risked so much for
+me? Only come to me! Make the most of me. All sorts of things are sure
+to happen directly I am found out."
+
+He took her into his arms. It was one of the moments of his lifetime.
+
+"Tell me," he murmured, "how have you dared to do this?"
+
+She laughed.
+
+"You know the Prince and his set. You know the way they bribe. Intrigues
+everywhere, new and old overlapping. They have really some reason for
+keeping you and me apart, but as regards my other movements, I am free
+enough. And they thought, Victor--don't be angry--but I let them
+think it was some one else. And I stole away from the ball, and they
+think--never mind what they think. But you, Victor, are my intrigue,
+you, my love, my husband!"
+
+Then all the fatigue and all the weariness, died away from Mr. Sabin's
+face. Once more the fire of youth burned in his heart. And Lucille
+laughed softly as her lips met his, and her head sank upon his shoulder.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+Lady Carey suddenly dropped her partner's arm. She had seen a man
+standing by himself with folded arms and moody face at the entrance
+to the ball-room. She raised her lorgnettes. His identity was
+unquestionable.
+
+"Will you excuse me for a moment, Captain Horton," she said to her
+escort. "I want particularly to speak to Mr. Brott."
+
+Captain Horton bowed with the slight disappointment of a hungry man on
+his way to the supper-room.
+
+"Don't be long," he begged. "The places are filling up."
+
+Lady Carey nodded and walked swiftly across to where Brott was standing.
+He moved eagerly forward to meet her.
+
+"Not dancing, Mr. Brott?"
+
+He shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"This sort of thing isn't much in my way," he answered. "I was rather
+hoping to see the Countess here. I trust that she is not indisposed."
+
+She looked at him steadily.
+
+"Do you mean," she said, "that you do not know where she is?"
+
+"I?" he answered in amazement. "How should I? I have not seen her at all
+this evening. I understood that she was to be here."
+
+Lady Carey hesitated. The man was too honest to be able to lie like
+this, even in a good cause. She stood quite still for a moment thinking.
+Several of her dearest friends had already told her that she was looking
+tired and ill this evening. At that moment she was positively haggard.
+
+"I have been down at Ranelagh this afternoon," she said slowly, "and
+dining out, so I have not seen Lucille. She was complaining of a
+headache yesterday, but I quite thought that she was coming here. Have
+you seen the Duchess?"
+
+He shook his head.
+
+"No. There is such a crowd."
+
+Lady Carey glanced towards her escort and turned away.
+
+"I will try and find out what has become of her," she said. "Don't go
+away yet."
+
+She rejoined her escort.
+
+"When we have found a table," she said, "I want you to keep my place for
+a few moments while I try and find some of my party."
+
+They passed into the supper-room, and appropriated a small table. Lady
+Carey left her partner, and made her way to the farther end of the
+apartment, where the Prince of Saxe Leinitzer was supping with half a
+dozen men and women. She touched him on the shoulder.
+
+"I want to speak to you for a moment, Ferdinand," she whispered.
+
+He rose at once, and she drew him a little apart.
+
+"Brott is here," she said slowly.
+
+"Brott here!" he repeated. "And Lucille?"
+
+"He is asking for her--expected to find her here. He is downstairs now,
+looking the picture of misery."
+
+He looked at her inquiringly. There was a curious steely light in
+her eyes, and she was showing her front teeth, which were a little
+prominent.
+
+"Do you think," he asked, "that she has deceived us?"
+
+"What else? Where are the Dorsets?"
+
+"The Duchess is with the Earl of Condon, and some more people at the
+round table under the balcony."
+
+"Give me your arm," she whispered. "We must go and ask her."
+
+They crossed the room together. Lady Carey sank into a vacant chair by
+the side of the Duchess and talked for a few minutes to the people whom
+she knew. Then she turned and whispered in the Duchess's ear.
+
+"Where is Lucille?"
+
+The Duchess looked at her with a meaning smile.
+
+"How should I know? She left when we did."
+
+"Alone?"
+
+"Yes. It was all understood, wasn't it?"
+
+Lady Carey laughed unpleasantly.
+
+"She has fooled us," she said. "Brott is here alone. Knows nothing of
+her."
+
+The Duchess was puzzled.
+
+"Well, I know nothing more than you do," she answered. "Are you sure the
+man is telling the truth?"
+
+"Of course. He is the image of despair."
+
+"I am sure she was in earnest," the Duchess said. "When I asked her
+whether she should come on here she laughed a little nervously, and said
+perhaps or something of that sort."
+
+"The fool may have bungled it," Lady Carey said thoughtfully. "I will
+go back to him. There's that idiot of a partner of mine. I must go and
+pretend to have some supper."
+
+Captain Horton found his vis-a-vis a somewhat unsatisfactory companion.
+She drank several glasses of champagne, ate scarcely anything, and
+rushed him away before he had taken the edge off his appetite. He
+brought her to the Duchess and went back in a huff to finish his supper
+alone. Lady Carey went downstairs and discovered Mr. Brott, who had
+scarcely moved.
+
+"Have you seen anything of her?" she asked.
+
+He shook his head gloomily.
+
+"No! It is too late for her to come now, isn't it?"
+
+"Take me somewhere where we can talk," she said abruptly. "One of those
+seats in the recess will do."
+
+He obeyed her, and they found a retired corner. Lady Carey wasted no
+time in fencing.
+
+"I am Lucille's greatest friend, Mr. Brott, and her confidante," she
+said.
+
+He nodded.
+
+"So I have understood."
+
+"She tells me everything."
+
+He glanced towards her a little uneasily.
+
+"That is comprehensive!" he remarked.
+
+"It is true," she answered. "Lucille has told me a great deal about your
+friendship! Come, there is no use in our mincing words. Lucille has
+been badly treated years ago, and she has a perfect right to seek any
+consolation she may find. The old fashioned ideas, thank goodness, do
+not hold any longer amongst us. It is not necessary to tie yourself for
+life to a man in order to procure a little diversion."
+
+"I will not pretend to misunderstand you, Lady Carey," he said gravely,
+"but I must decline to discuss the Countess of Radantz in connection
+with such matters."
+
+"Oh, come!" she declared impatiently; "remember that I am her friend.
+Yours is quite the proper attitude, but with me it doesn't matter. Now
+I am going to ask you a plain question. Had you any engagement with
+Lucille to-night?"
+
+She watched him mercilessly. He was colouring like a boy. Lady Carey's
+thin lips curled. She had no sympathy with such amateurish love-making.
+Nevertheless, his embarrassment was a great relief to her.
+
+"She promised to be here," he answered stiffly.
+
+"Everything depends upon your being honest with me," she continued.
+"You will see from my question that I know. Was there not something said
+about supper at your rooms before or after the dance?"
+
+"I cannot discuss this matter with you or any living person," he
+answered. "If you know so much why ask me?"
+
+Lady Carey could have shaken the man, but she restrained herself.
+
+"It is sufficient!" she declared. "What I cannot understand is why you
+are here--when Lucille is probably awaiting for you at your rooms."
+
+He started from his chair as though he had been shot.
+
+"What do you mean?" he exclaimed. "She was to--"
+
+He stopped short. Lady Carey shrugged her shoulders.
+
+"Oh, written you or something, I suppose!" she exclaimed. "Trust an
+Englishman for bungling a love affair. All I can tell you is that she
+left Dorset House in a hansom without the others, and said some thing
+about having supper with some friends."
+
+Brott sprang to his feet and took a quick step towards the exit.
+
+"It is not possible!" he exclaimed.
+
+She took his arm. He almost dragged her along.
+
+"Well, we are going to see," she said coolly. "Tell the man to call a
+hansom."
+
+They drove almost in silence through the Square to Pall Mall. Brott
+leaped out onto the pavement directly the cab pulled up.
+
+"I will wait here," Lady Carey said. "I only want to know that Lucille
+is safe."
+
+He disappeared, and she sat forward in the cab drumming idly with
+her forefingers upon the apron. In a few minutes he came back. His
+appearance was quite sufficient. He was very pale. The change in him was
+so ludicrous that she laughed.
+
+"Get in," she said. "I am going round to Dorset House. We must find out
+if we can what has become of her."
+
+He obeyed without comment. At Dorset House Lady Carey summoned the
+Duchess's own maid.
+
+"Marie," she said, "you were attending upon the Countess Radantz
+to-night?"
+
+"Yes, my lady."
+
+"At what time did she leave?"
+
+"At about, eleven, my lady."
+
+"Alone?"
+
+"Yes, my lady."
+
+Lady Carey looked steadily at the girl.
+
+"Did she take anything with her?"
+
+The girl hesitated. Lady Carey frowned.
+
+"It must be the truth, remember, Marie."
+
+"Certainly, my lady! She took her small dressing-case."
+
+Lady Carey set her teeth hard. Then with a movement of her head she
+dismissed the maid. She walked restlessly up and down the room. Then she
+stopped short with a hard little laugh.
+
+"If I give way like this," she murmured, "I shall be positively hideous,
+and after all, if she was there it was not possible for him--"
+
+She stopped short, and suddenly tearing the handkerchief which she had
+been carrying into shreds threw the pieces upon the floor, and stamped
+upon them. Then she laughed shortly, and turned towards the door.
+
+"Now I must go and get rid of that poor fool outside," she said. "What a
+bungler!"
+
+Brott was beside himself with impatience.
+
+"Lucille is here," she announced, stepping in beside him. "She has a
+shocking headache and has gone to bed. As a matter of fact, I believe
+that she was expecting to hear from you."
+
+"Impossible!" he answered shortly. He was beginning to distrust this
+woman.
+
+"Never mind. You can make it up with her to-morrow. I was foolish to be
+anxious about her at all. Are you coming in again?"
+
+They were at Carmarthen House. He handed her out.
+
+"No, thanks! If you will allow me I will wish you good-night."
+
+She made her way into the ball-room, and found the Prince of Saxe
+Leinitzer, who was just leaving.
+
+"Do you know where Lucille is?" she asked.
+
+He looked up at her sharply. "Where?"
+
+"At the Carlton Hotel--with him."
+
+He rose to his feet with slow but evil promptitude. His face just then
+was very unlike the face of an angel. Lady Carey laughed aloud.
+
+"Poor man," she said mockingly. "It is always the same when you and
+Souspennier meet."
+
+He set his teeth.
+
+"This time," he muttered, "I hold the trumps."
+
+She pointed at the clock. It was nearly four. "She was there at eleven,"
+she remarked drily.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+"His Highness, the Prince of Saxe Leinitzer!"
+
+Duson stood away from the door with a low bow. The Prince--in the
+buttonhole of whose frock-coat was a large bunch of Russian violets,
+passed across the threshold. Mr. Sabin rose slowly from his chair.
+
+"I fear," the Prince said suavely, "that I am an early visitor. I can
+only throw myself upon your indulgence and plead the urgency of my
+mission."
+
+His arrival appeared to have interrupted a late breakfast of the
+Continental order. The small table at which Lucille and Mr. Sabin were
+seated was covered with roses and several dishes of wonderful fruit. A
+coffee equipage was before Lucille. Mr. Sabin, dressed with his usual
+peculiar care and looking ten years younger, had just lit a cigarette.
+
+"We have been anticipating your visit, Prince," Mr. Sabin remarked, with
+grim courtesy. "Can we offer you coffee or a liqueur?"
+
+"I thank you, no," the Prince answered. "I seldom take anything
+before lunch. Let me beg that you do not disturb yourselves. With your
+permission I will take this easy-chair. So! That is excellent. We can
+now talk undisturbed."
+
+Mr. Sabin bowed.
+
+"You will find me," he said, "an excellent listener."
+
+The Prince smiled in an amiable manner. His eyes were fixed upon
+Lucille, who had drawn her chair a little away from the table. What
+other woman in the world who had passed her first youth could sit thus
+in the slanting sunlight and remain beautiful?
+
+"I will ask you to believe," the Prince said slowly, "how sincerely
+I regret this unavoidable interference in a domestic happiness so
+touching. Nevertheless, I have come for the Countess. It is necessary
+that she returns to Dorset House this morning."
+
+"You will oblige me," Mr. Sabin remarked, "by remembering that my wife
+is the Duchesse de Souspennier, and by so addressing her."
+
+The Prince spread out his hands--a deprecating gesture.
+
+"Alas!" he said, "for the present it is not possible. Until the little
+affair upon which we are now engaged is finally disposed of it is
+necessary that Lucille should be known by the title which she bears
+in her own right, or by the name of her late husband, Mr. James B.
+Peterson."
+
+"That little affair," Mr. Sabin remarked, "is, I presume, the matter
+which you have come to explain to me."
+
+The Prince smiled and shook his head.
+
+"Explain! My dear Duke, that is not possible. It is not within your
+rights to ask questions or to require any explanation as to anything
+which Lucille is required to do by us. You must remember that our claim
+upon her comes before yours. It is a claim which she cannot evade or
+deny. And in pursuance of it, Countess, I deeply regret having to
+tell you that your presence at Dorset House within the next hour is
+demanded."
+
+Lucille made no answer, but looked across the table at Mr. Sabin with a
+little grimace.
+
+"It is a comedy," she murmured. "After all, it is a comedy!"
+
+Mr. Sabin fingered his cigarette thoughtfully.
+
+"I believe," he said, "that the Duchess realises her responsibilities in
+this matter. I myself have no wish to deny them. As ordinary members
+we are both pledged to absolute obedience. I therefore place no embargo
+upon the return of my wife to Dorset House. But there are certain
+conditions, Prince, that considering the special circumstances of the
+case I feel impelled to propose."
+
+"I can recognise," the Prince said, "no conditions."
+
+"They are very harmless," Mr. Sabin continued calmly. "The first is that
+in a friendly way, and of course under the inviolable law of secrecy,
+you explain to me for what part Lucille is cast in this little comedy;
+the next that I be allowed to see her at reasonable intervals,
+and finally that she is known by her rightful name as Duchesse de
+Souspennier."
+
+The forced urbanity which the Prince had assumed fell away from him
+without warning. The tone of his reply was almost a sneer.
+
+"I repeat," he said, "that I can recognise no conditions."
+
+"It is perhaps," Mr. Sabin continued, "the wrong word to use. We submit
+to your authority, but you and I are well aware that your discretionary
+powers are large. I ask you to use them."
+
+"And I," the Prince said, "refuse. Let me add that I intend to prevent
+any recurrence of your little adventure of last night. Lucille shall not
+see you again until her task is over. And as for you, my dear Duke, I
+desire only your absence. I do not wish to hurt your feelings, but your
+name has been associated in the past with too many failures to inspire
+us with any confidence in engaging you as an ally. Countess, a carriage
+from Dorset House awaits you."
+
+But Lucille sat still, and Mr. Sabin rose slowly to his feet.
+
+"I thank you, Prince," he said, "for throwing away the mask. Fighting
+is always better without the buttons. It is true that I have failed
+more than once, but it is also true that my failures have been more
+magnificent than your waddle across the plain of life. As for your
+present authority, I challenge you to your face that you are using it to
+gain your private ends. What I have said to you I shall repeat to those
+whose place is above yours. Lucille shall go to Dorset House, but I warn
+you that I hold my life a slight thing where her welfare is concerned.
+Your hand is upon the lever of a great organization, I am only a unit
+in the world. Yet I would have you remember that more than once, Prince,
+when you and I have met with the odds in your favour the victory has
+been mine. Play the game fairly, and you have nothing to fear from me
+but the open opposition I have promised you. Bring but the shadow of
+evil upon her, misuse your power but ever so slightly against her, and
+I warn you that I shall count the few years of life left to me a
+trifle--of less than no account--until you and I cry quits."
+
+The Prince smiled, a fat, good-natured smile, behind which the malice
+was indeed well hidden.
+
+"Come, come, my dear Souspennier," he declared. "This is unworthy of
+you. It is positively melodramatic. It reminds me of the plays of my
+Fatherland, and of your own Adelphi Theatre. We should be men of the
+world, you and I. You must take your defeats with your victories. I can
+assure you that the welfare of the Countess Lucille shall be my special
+care."
+
+Lucille for the first time spoke. She rose from her chair and rested her
+hands affectionately upon her husband's shoulder.
+
+"Dear Victor," she said, "remember that we are in London, and, need
+I add, have confidence in me. The Prince of Saxe Leinitzer and I
+understand one another, I believe. If we do not it is not my fault. My
+presence here at this moment should prove to you how eagerly I shall
+look forward to the time when our separation is no longer necessary."
+
+She passed away into the inner room with a little farewell gesture
+tender and regretful. Mr. Sabin resumed his seat.
+
+"I believe, Prince," he said, "that no good can come of any further
+conference between you and me. We understand one another too well. Might
+I suggest therefore that you permit me to ring?"
+
+The Prince rose to his feet.
+
+"You are right," he said. "The bandying of words between you and me is a
+waste of time. We are both of us too old at the game. But come, before
+I go I will do you a good turn. I will prove that I am in a generous
+mood."
+
+Mr. Sabin shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"If anything in this world could inspire me with fear," he remarked, "it
+would be the generosity of the Prince of Saxe Leinitzer."
+
+The Prince sighed.
+
+"You always misunderstand me," he murmured. "However, I will prove my
+words. You spoke of an appeal."
+
+"Certainly," Mr. Sabin answered. "I intend to impeach you for making
+use of the powers entrusted to you for your own private ends--in other
+words, for making an arbitrary misuse of your position."
+
+The Prince nodded.
+
+"It is very well put," he said. "I shall await the result of your appeal
+in fear and trembling. I confess that I am very much afraid. But, come
+now, I am going to be generous. I am going to help you on a little. Do
+you know to whom your appeal must be made?"
+
+"To the Grand Duke!" Mr. Sabin replied.
+
+The Prince shook his head.
+
+"Ah me!" he said, "how long indeed you have been absent from the world.
+The Grand Duke is no longer the head of our little affair. Shall I tell
+you who has succeeded him?"
+
+"I can easily find out," Mr. Sabin answered.
+
+"Ah, but I warned you that I was in a generous mood," the Prince said,
+with a smile. "I will save you the trouble. With your permission I will
+whisper the name in your ear. It is not one which we mention lightly."
+
+He stepped forward and bent his head for a moment. Afterwards, as he
+drew back, the smile upon his lips broadened until he showed all his
+teeth. It was a veritable triumph. Mr. Sabin, taken wholly by surprise,
+had not been able to conceal his consternation.
+
+"It is not possible," he exclaimed hoarsely. "He would not dare."
+
+But in his heart he knew that the Prince had spoken the truth.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+"After all," said the Prince, looking up from the wine list, "why cannot
+I be satisfied with you? And why cannot you be satisfied with me? It
+would save so much trouble."
+
+Lady Carey, who was slowly unwinding the white veil from her picture
+hat, shrugged her shoulders.
+
+"My dear man," she said, "you could not seriously expect me to fall in
+love with you."
+
+The Prince sipped his wine--a cabinet hock of rare vintage--and found it
+good. He leaned over towards his companion.
+
+"Why not?" he asked. "I wish that you would try--in earnest, I mean.
+You are capable of great things, I believe--perhaps of the great passion
+itself."
+
+"Perhaps," she murmured derisively.
+
+"And yet," he continued, "there has always been in our love-making a
+touch of amateurishness. It is an awkward word, but I do not know how
+better to explain myself."
+
+"I understand you perfectly," she answered. "I can also, I think,
+explain it. It is because I never cared a rap about you."
+
+The Prince did not appear altogether pleased. He curled his fair
+moustache, and looked deprecatingly at his companion. She had so much
+the air of a woman who has spoken the truth.
+
+"My dear Muriel!" he protested.
+
+She looked at him insolently.
+
+"My good man," she said, "whatever you do don't try and be sentimental.
+You know quite well that I have never in my life pretended to care a rap
+about you--except to pass the time. You are altogether too obvious. Very
+young girls and very old women would rave about you. You simply don't
+appeal to me. Perhaps I know you too well. What does it matter!"
+
+He sighed and examined a sauce critically. They were lunching at
+Prince's alone, at a small table near the wall.
+
+"Your taste," he remarked a little spitefully, "would be considered a
+trifle strange. Souspennier carries his years well, but he must be an
+old man."
+
+She sipped her wine thoughtfully.
+
+"Old or young," she said, "he is a man, and all my life I have loved
+men,--strong men. To have him here opposite to me at this moment, mine,
+belonging to me, the slave of my will, I would give--well, I would
+give--a year of my life--my new tiara--anything!"
+
+"What a pity," he murmured, "that we cannot make an exchange, you and I,
+Lucille and he!"
+
+"Ah, Lucille!" she murmured. "Well, she is beautiful. That goes for
+much. And she has the grand air. But, heavens, how stupid!"
+
+"Stupid!" he repeated doubtfully.
+
+She drummed nervously upon the tablecloth with her fingers.
+
+"Oh, not stupid in the ordinary way, of course, but yet a fool. I should
+like to see man or devil try and separate us if I belonged to him--until
+I was tired of him. That would come, of course. It comes always. It is
+the hideous part of life."
+
+"You look always," he said, "a little too far forward. It is a mistake.
+After all, it is the present only which concerns us."
+
+"Admirable philosophy," she laughed scornfully, "but when one is
+bored to death in the present one must look forward or backward for
+consolation."
+
+He continued his lunch in silence for a while.
+
+"I am rebuked!" he said.
+
+There came a pause in the courses. He looked at her critically. She was
+very handsomely dressed in a walking costume of dove-coloured grey. The
+ostrich feathers which drooped from her large hat were almost priceless.
+She had the undeniable air of being a person of breeding. But she
+was paler even than usual, her hair, notwithstanding its careful
+arrangement, gave signs of being a little thin in front. There were
+wrinkles at the corners of her eyes. She knew these things, but she bore
+his inspection with indifference.
+
+"I wonder," he said reflectively, "what we men see in you. You have
+plenty of admirers. They say that Grefton got himself shot out at the
+front because you treated him badly. Yet--you are not much to look at,
+are you?"
+
+She laughed at him. Hers was never a pleasant laugh, but this time it
+was at least natural.
+
+"How discriminating," she declared. "I am an ugly woman, and men of
+taste usually prefer ugly women. Then I am always well dressed. I know
+how to wear my clothes. And I have a shocking reputation. A really
+wicked woman, I once heard pious old Lady Surbiton call me! Dear old
+thing! It did me no end of good. Then I have the very great advantage
+of never caring for any one more than a few days together. Men find that
+annoying."
+
+"You have violent fancies," he remarked, "and strange ones."
+
+"Perhaps," she admitted. "They concern no one except myself."
+
+"This Souspennier craze, for instance!"
+
+She nodded.
+
+"Well, you can't say that I'm not honest. It is positively my only
+virtue. I adore the truth. I loathe a lie. That is one reason, I
+daresay, why I can only barely tolerate you. You are a shocking--a gross
+liar."
+
+"Muriel!"
+
+"Oh, don't look at me like that," she exclaimed irritably. "You must
+hear the truth sometimes. And now, please remember that I came to lunch
+with you to hear about your visit this morning."
+
+The Prince gnawed his moustache, and the light in his eyes was not
+a pleasant thing to see. This woman with her reckless life, her odd
+fascination, her brusque hatred of affectations, was a constant torment
+to him. If only he could once get her thoroughly into his power.
+
+"My visit," he said, "was wholly successful. It could not well be
+otherwise. Lucille has returned to Dorset House. Souspennier is
+confounded altogether by a little revelation which I ventured to make.
+He spoke of an appeal. I let him know with whom he would have to deal.
+I left him nerveless and crushed. He can do nothing save by open revolt.
+And if he tries that--well, there will be no more of this wonderful Mr.
+Sabin."
+
+"Altogether a triumph to you," she remarked scornfully. "Oh, I know the
+sort of thing. But, after all, my dear Ferdinand, what of last night.
+I hate the woman, but she played the game, and played it well. We were
+fooled, both of us. And to think that I--"
+
+She broke off with a short laugh. The Prince looked at her curiously.
+
+"Perhaps," he said, "you had some idea of consoling the desolate
+husband?"
+
+"Perhaps I had," she answered coolly. "It didn't come off, did it? Order
+me some coffee, and give me a cigarette, my friend. I have something
+else to say to you."
+
+He obeyed her, and she leaned back in the high chair.
+
+"Listen to me," she said. "I have nothing whatever to do with you and
+Lucille. I suppose you will get your revenge on Souspennier through her.
+It won't be like you if you don't try, and you ought to have the game
+pretty well in your own hands. But I won't have Souspennier harmed. You
+understand?"
+
+He shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"Souspennier," he said, "must take care. If he oversteps the bounds he
+must pay the penalty."
+
+She leaned forward. There was a look in her face which he knew very
+well.
+
+"You and I understand one another," she said coolly. "If you want me for
+an enemy you can have me. Very likely I shall tell you before long that
+you can do what you like with the man. But until I do it will be very
+dangerous for you if harm comes to him."
+
+"It is no use," he answered doggedly. "If he attacks he must be
+silenced."
+
+"If he attacks," she answered, "you must give me twenty-four hours clear
+notice before you move a hand against him. Afterwards--well, we will
+discuss that."
+
+"You had better," he said, looking at her with an ugly gleam in his
+eyes, "persuade him to take you for a little tour on the Continent. It
+would be safer."
+
+"If he would come," she said coolly, "I would go to-morrow. But he
+won't--just yet. Never mind. You have heard what I wanted to say. Now
+shall we go? I am going to get some sleep this afternoon. Everybody
+tells me that I look like a ghost."
+
+"Why not come to Grosvenor Square with me?" he leaning a little across
+the table. "Patoff shall make you some Russian tea, and afterwards you
+shall sleep as long as you like."
+
+"How idyllic!" she answered, with a faint sarcastic smile. "It goes
+to my heart to decline so charming an invitation. But, to tell you the
+truth, it would bore me excessively."
+
+He muttered something under his breath which startled the waiter at
+his elbow. Then he followed her out of the room. She paused for a few
+moments in the portico to finish buttoning her gloves.
+
+"Many thanks for my lunch," she said, nodding to him carelessly. "I'm
+sure I've been a delightful companion."
+
+"You have been a very tormenting one," he answered gloomily as he
+followed her out on to the pavement.
+
+"You should try Lucille," she suggested maliciously.
+
+He stood by her side while they waited for her carriage, and looked
+at her critically. Her slim, elegant figure had never seemed more
+attractive to him. Even the insolence of her tone and manner had an odd
+sort of fascination. He tried to hold for a moment the fingers which
+grasped her skirt.
+
+"I think," he whispered, "that after you Lucille would be dull!"
+
+She laughed.
+
+"That is because Lucille has morals and a conscience," she said, "and
+I have neither. But, dear me, how much more comfortably one gets on
+without them. No, thank you, Prince. My coupe is only built for one.
+Remember."
+
+She flung him a careless nod from the window. The Prince remained on the
+pavement until after the little brougham had driven away. Then he smiled
+softly to himself as he turned to follow it.
+
+"No!" he said. "I think not! I think that she will not get our good
+friend Souspennier. We shall see!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+A barely furnished man's room, comfortable, austere, scholarly. The
+refuge of a busy man, to judge by the piles of books and papers which
+littered the large open writing-table. There were despatch boxes turned
+upside down, a sea of parchment and foolscap. In the midst of it all a
+man deep in thought.
+
+A visitor, entering with the freedom of an old acquaintance, laid
+his hand upon his shoulder and greeted him with an air of suppressed
+enthusiasm.
+
+"Planning the campaign, eh, Brott? Or is that a handbook to Court
+etiquette? You will need it within the week. There are all sorts of
+rumours at the clubs."
+
+Brott shook himself free from his fit of apathetic reflection. He would
+not have dared to tell his visitor where his thoughts had been for the
+last half hour.
+
+"Somehow," he said, "I do not think that little trip to Windsor will
+come just yet. The King will never send for me unless he is compelled."
+
+His visitor, an ex-Cabinet Minister, a pronounced Radical and a lifelong
+friend of Brott's, shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"That time," he said, "is very close at hand. He will send for
+Letheringham first, of course, and great pressure will be brought to
+bear upon him to form a ministry. But without you he will be helpless.
+He has not the confidence of the people."
+
+"Without me," Brott repeated slowly. "You think then that I should not
+accept office with Letheringham?"
+
+His visitor regarded him steadily for a moment, open-mouthed, obviously
+taken aback.
+
+"Brott, are you in your right senses?" he asked incredulously. "Do you
+know what you are saying?"
+
+Brott laughed a little nervously.
+
+"This is a great issue, Grahame," he said. "I will confess that I am in
+an undecided state. I am not sure that the country is in a sufficiently
+advanced state for our propaganda. Is this really our opportunity, or is
+it only the shadow of what is to come thrown before? If we show our hand
+too soon all is lost for this generation. Don't look at me as though I
+were insane, Grahame. Remember that the country is only just free from a
+long era of Conservative rule."
+
+"The better our opportunity," Grahame answered vigorously. "Two decades
+of puppet government are enervating, I admit, but they only pave the
+way more surely to the inevitable reaction. What is the matter with
+you, Brott? Are you ill? This is the great moment of our lives. You must
+speak at Manchester and Birmingham within this week. Glasgow is already
+preparing for you. Everything and everybody waits for your judgment.
+Good God, man, it's magnificent! Where's your enthusiasm? Within a month
+you must be Prime Minister, and we will show the world the way to a new
+era."
+
+Brott sat quite still. His friend's words had stirred him for the
+moment. Yet he seemed the victim of a curious indecision. Grahame leaned
+over towards him.
+
+"Brott, old friend," he said, "you are not ill?"
+
+Brott shook his head.
+
+"I am perfectly well," he said.
+
+Grahame hesitated.
+
+"It is a delicate thing to mention," he said. "Perhaps I shall pass even
+the bounds of our old comradeship. But you have changed. Something is
+wrong with you. What is it?"
+
+"There is nothing," Brott answered, looking up. "It is your fancy. I am
+well enough."
+
+Grahame's face was dark with anxiety.
+
+"This is no idle curiosity of mine," he said. "You know me better than
+that. But the cause which is nearer my heart than life itself is at
+stake. Brott, you are the people's man, their promised redeemer. Think
+of them, the toilers, the oppressed, God's children, groaning under the
+iniquitous laws of generations of evil statesmanship. It is the dawn of
+their new day, their faces are turned to you. Man, can't you hear them
+crying? You can't fail them. You mustn't. I don't know what is the
+matter with you, Brott, but away with it. Free yourself, man."
+
+Brott sighed wearily, but already there was a change in him. His
+face was hardening--the lines in his face deepened. Grahame continued
+hastily--eagerly.
+
+"Public men," he said, "are always at the mercy of the halfpenny press,
+but you know, Brott, your appearance so often in Society lately has set
+men's tongues wagging. There is no harm done, but it is time to stop
+them. You are right to want to understand these people. You must go down
+amongst them. It has been slumming in Mayfair for you, I know. But have
+done with it now. It is these people we are going to fight. Let it be
+open war. Let them hear your programme at Glasgow. We don't want another
+French Revolution, but it is going to be war against the drones, fierce,
+merciless war! You must break with them, Brott, once and for ever. And
+the time is now."
+
+Brott held out his hand across the table. No one but this one man could
+have read the struggle in his face.
+
+"You are right, Grahame. I thank you. I thank you as much for what you
+have left unsaid as for what you have said. I was a fool to think of
+compromising. Letheringham is a nerveless leader. We should have gone
+pottering on for another seven years. Thank God that you came when you
+did. See here!"
+
+He tossed him over a letter. Grahame's cheek paled as he read.
+
+"Already!" he murmured.
+
+Brott nodded.
+
+"Read it!"
+
+Grahame devoured every word. His eyes lit up with excitement.
+
+"My prophecy exactly," he exclaimed, laying it down. "It is as I said.
+He cannot form the ministry without you. His letter is abject. He gives
+himself away. It is an entreaty. And your answer?"
+
+"Has not yet gone," Brott said. "You shall write it yourself if you
+like. I am thankful that you came when you did."
+
+"You were hesitating?" Grahame exclaimed.
+
+"I was."
+
+Grahame looked at him in wonder, and Brott faced him sturdily.
+
+"It seems like treason to you, Grahame!" he said. "So it does to me
+now. I want nothing in the future to come between us," he continued
+more slowly, "and I should like if I can to expunge the memory of this
+interview. And so I am going to tell you the truth." Grahame held out
+his hand.
+
+"Don't!" he said. "I can forget without."
+
+Brott shook his head.
+
+"No," he said. "You had better understand everything. The halfpenny
+press told the truth. Yet only half the truth. I have been to all
+these places, wasted my time, wasted their time, from a purely selfish
+reason--to be near the only woman I have ever cared for, the woman,
+Grahame!"
+
+"I knew it," Grahame murmured. "I fought against the belief, I thought
+that I had stifled it. But I knew it all the time."
+
+"If I have seemed lukewarm sometimes of late," Brott said, "there is the
+cause. She is an aristocrat, and my politics are hateful to her. She has
+told me so seriously, playfully, angrily. She has let me feel it in a
+hundred ways. She has drawn me into discussions and shown the utmost
+horror of my views. I have cared for her all my life, and she knows
+it. And I think, Grahame, that lately she has been trying constantly,
+persistently, to tone down my opinions. She has let me understand that
+they are a bar between us. And it is a horrible confession, Grahame, but
+I believe that I was wavering. This invitation from Letheringham seemed
+such a wonderful opportunity for compromise."
+
+"This must never go out of the room," Grahame said hoarsely. "It would
+ruin your popularity. They would never trust you again."
+
+"I shall tell no one else," Brott said.
+
+"And it is over?" Grahame demanded eagerly.
+
+"It is over."
+
+     *           *           *           *           *
+
+The Duke of Dorset, who entertained for his party, gave a great dinner
+that night at Dorset House, and towards its close the Prince of Saxe
+Leinitzer, who was almost the only non-political guest, moved up to his
+host in response to an eager summons. The Duke was perturbed.
+
+"You have heard the news, Saxe Leinitzer?"
+
+"I did not know of any news," the Prince answered. "What is it?"
+
+"Brott has refused to join with Letheringham in forming a ministry. It
+is rumoured even that a coalition was proposed, and that Brott would
+have nothing to do with it."
+
+The Prince looked into his wineglass.
+
+"Ah!" he said.
+
+"This is disturbing news," the Duke continued. "You do not seem to
+appreciate its significance."
+
+The Prince looked up again.
+
+"Perhaps not," he said. "You shall explain to me."
+
+"Brott refuses to compromise," the Duke said. "He stands for a ministry
+of his own selection. Heaven only knows what mischief this may mean.
+His doctrines are thoroughly revolutionary. He is an iconoclast with a
+genius for destruction. But he has the ear of the people. He is to-day
+their Rienzi."
+
+The Prince nodded.
+
+"And Lucille?" he remarked. "What does she say?"
+
+"I have not spoken to her," the Duke answered. "The news has only just
+come."
+
+"We will speak to her," the Prince said, "together."
+
+Afterwards in the library there was a sort of informal meeting, and
+their opportunity came.
+
+"So you have failed, Countess," her host said, knitting his grey brows
+at her.
+
+She smilingly acknowledged defeat.
+
+"But I can assure you," she said, "that I was very near success. Only
+on Monday he had virtually made up his mind to abandon the extreme party
+and cast in his lot with Letheringham. What has happened to change him I
+do not know."
+
+The Prince curled his fair moustache.
+
+"It is a pity," he said, "that he changed his mind. For one thing is
+very certain. The Duke and I are agreed upon it. A Brott ministry must
+never be formed."
+
+She looked up quickly.
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+The Prince answered her without hesitation.
+
+"If one course fails," he said, "another must be adopted. I regret
+having to make use of means which are somewhat clumsy and obvious. But
+our pronouncement on this one point is final. Brott must not be allowed
+to form a ministry."
+
+She looked at him with something like horror in her soft full eyes.
+
+"What would you do?" she murmured.
+
+The Prince shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"Well," he said, "we are not quite medieval enough to adopt the only
+really sensible method and remove Mr. Brott permanently from the face of
+the earth. We should stop a little short of that, but I can assure you
+that Mr. Brott's health for the next few months is a matter for grave
+uncertainty. It is a pity for his sake that you failed."
+
+She bit her lip.
+
+"Do you know if he is still in London?" she asked.
+
+"He must be on the point of leaving for Scotland," the Duke answered.
+"If he once mounts the platform at Glasgow there will be no further
+chance of any compromise. He will be committed irretrievably to his
+campaign of anarchy."
+
+"And to his own disaster," the Prince murmured.
+
+Lucille remained for a moment deep in thought. Then she looked up.
+
+"If I can find him before he starts," she said hurriedly, "I will make
+one last effort."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV
+
+He peered forward over his desk at the tall graceful figure whose
+entrance had been so noiseless, and whose footsteps had been so light
+that she stood almost within a few feet of him before he was even aware
+of her presence. Then his surprise was so great that he could only gasp
+out her name.
+
+"You! Lucille!"
+
+She smiled upon him delightfully.
+
+"Me! Lucille! Don't blame your servant. I assured him that I was
+expected, so he allowed me to enter unannounced. His astonishment was
+a delightful testimony to your reputation, by the bye. He was evidently
+not used to these invasions."
+
+Brott had recovered himself by this time, and if any emotion still
+remained he was master of it.
+
+"You must forgive my surprise!" he said. "You have of course something
+important to say to me. Will you not loosen your cloak?"
+
+She unfastened the clasp and seated herself in his most comfortable
+chair. The firelight flashed and glittered on the silver ornaments of
+her dress; her neck and arms, with their burden of jewels, gleamed like
+porcelain in the semi-darkness outside the halo of his student lamp. And
+he saw that her dark hair hung low behind in graceful folds as he had
+once admired it. He stood a little apart, and she noted his traveling
+clothes and the various signs of a journey about the room.
+
+"You may be glad to see me," she remarked, looking at him with a smile.
+"You don't look it."
+
+"I am anxious to hear your news," he answered. "I am convinced that you
+have something important to say to me."
+
+"Supposing," she answered, still looking at him steadily, "supposing
+I were to say that I had no object in coming here at all--that it was
+merely a whim? What should you say then?"
+
+"I should take the liberty," he answered quietly, "of doubting the
+evidence of my senses."
+
+There was a moment's silence. She felt his aloofness. It awoke in her
+some of the enthusiasm with which this mission itself had failed to
+inspire her. This man was measuring his strength against hers.
+
+"It was not altogether a whim," she said, her eyes falling from his,
+"and yet--now I am here--it does not seem easy to say what was in my
+mind."
+
+He glanced towards the clock.
+
+"I fear," he said, "that it may sound ungallant, but in case this
+somewhat mysterious mission of yours is of any importance I had better
+perhaps tell you that in twenty minutes I must leave to catch the Scotch
+mail."
+
+She rose at once to her feet, and swept her cloak haughtily around her.
+
+"I have made a mistake," she said. "Be so good as to pardon my
+intrusion. I shall not trouble you again."
+
+She was half-way across the room. She was at the door, her hand was upon
+the handle. He was white to the lips, his whole frame was shaking with
+the effort of intense repression. He kept silence, till only a flutter
+of her cloak was to be seen in the doorway. And then the cry which he
+had tried so hard to stifle broke from his lips.
+
+"Lucille! Lucille!"
+
+She hesitated, and came back--looking at him, so he thought, with
+trembling lips and eyes soft with unshed tears.
+
+"I was a brute," he murmured. "I ought to be grateful for this chance of
+seeing you once more, of saying good-bye to you."
+
+"Good-bye!" she repeated.
+
+"Yes," he said gravely. "It must be good-bye. I have a great work before
+me, and it will cut me off completely from all association with your
+world and your friends. Something wider and deeper than an ocean will
+divide us. Something so wide that our hands will never reach across."
+
+"You can talk about it very calmly," she said, without looking at him.
+
+"I have been disciplining myself," he answered.
+
+She rested her face upon her hand, and looked into the fire.
+
+"I suppose," she said, "this means that you have refused Mr.
+Letheringham's offer."
+
+"I have refused it," he answered.
+
+"I am sorry," she said simply.
+
+She rose from her chair with a sudden start, began to draw on her cloak,
+and then let it fall altogether from her shoulders.
+
+"Why do you do this?" she asked earnestly. "Is it that you are so
+ambitious? You used not to be so--in the old days."
+
+He laughed bitterly.
+
+"You too, then," he said, "can remember. Ambitious! Well, why not? To
+be Premier of England, to stand for the people, to carry through to its
+logical consummation a bloodless revolution, surely this is worth while.
+Is there anything in the world better worth having than power?"
+
+"Yes," she answered, looking him full in the eyes.
+
+"What is it then? Let me know before it is too late."
+
+"Love!"
+
+He threw his arms about her. For a moment she was powerless in his
+grasp.
+
+"So be it then," he cried fiercely. "Give me the one, and I will deny
+the other. Only no half measures! I will drink to the bottom of the cup
+or not at all."
+
+She shook herself free from him, breathless, consumed with an anger to
+which she dared not give voice. For a moment or two she was speechless.
+Her bosom rose and fell, a bright streak of colour flared in her cheeks.
+Brott stood away from her, white and stern.
+
+"You--are clumsy!" she said. "You frighten me!"
+
+Her words carried no conviction. He looked at her with a new suspicion.
+
+"You talk like a child," he answered roughly, "or else your whole
+conduct is a fraud. For months I have been your slave. I have abandoned
+my principles, given you my time, followed at your heels like a tame
+dog. And for what? You will not marry me, you will not commit yourself
+to anything. You are a past mistress in the art of binding fools to your
+chariot wheels. You know that I love you--that there breathes on this
+earth no other woman for me but you. I have told you this in all save
+words a hundred times. And now--now it is my turn. I have been played
+with long enough. You are here unbidden--unexpected. You can consider
+that door locked. Now tell me why you came."
+
+Lucille had recovered herself. She stood before him, white but calm.
+
+"Because," she said, "I am a woman."
+
+"That means that you came without reason--on impulse?" he asked.
+
+"I came," she said, "because I heard that you were about to take a step
+which must separate us for ever."
+
+"And that," he asked, "disturbed you?"
+
+"Yes!"
+
+"Come, we are drawing nearer together," he said, a kindling light in
+his eyes. "Now answer me this. How much do you care if this eternal
+separation does come? Here am I on the threshold of action. Unless I
+change my mind within ten minutes I must throw in my lot with those whom
+you and your Order loathe and despise. There can be no half measures.
+I must be their leader, or I must vanish from the face of the
+political world. This I will do if you bid me. But the price must be
+yourself--wholly, without reservation--yourself, body and soul."
+
+"You care--as much as that?" she murmured.
+
+"Ask me no questions, answer mine!" he cried fiercely. "You shall stay
+with me here--or in five minutes I leave on my campaign."
+
+She laughed musically.
+
+"This is positively delicious," she exclaimed. "I am being made love to
+in medieval fashion. Other times other manners, sir! Will you listen to
+reason?"
+
+"I will listen to nothing--save your answer, yes or no," he declared,
+drawing on his overcoat.
+
+She laid her hand upon his shoulder.
+
+"Reginald," she said, "you are like the whirlwind--and how can I answer
+you in five minutes!"
+
+"You can answer me in one," he declared fiercely. "Will you pay my price
+if I do your bidding? Yes or no! The price is yourself. Now! Yes or no?"
+
+She drew on her own cloak and fastened the clasp with shaking fingers.
+Then she turned towards the door.
+
+"I wish you good-bye and good fortune, Reginald," she said. "I daresay
+we may not meet again. It will be better that we do not."
+
+"This then is your answer?" he cried.
+
+She looked around at him. Was it his fancy, or were those tears in her
+eyes? Or was she really so wonderful an actress?
+
+"Do you think," she said, "that if I had not cared I should have come
+here?"
+
+"Tell me that in plain words," he cried. "It is all I ask."
+
+The door was suddenly opened. Grahame stood upon the threshold. He
+looked beyond Lucille to Brott.
+
+"You must really forgive me," he said, "but there is barely time to
+catch the train, Brott. I have a hansom waiting, and your luggage is
+on."
+
+Brott answered nothing. Lucille held out her hands to him.
+
+"Yes or no?" he asked her in a low hoarse tone.
+
+"You must--give me time! I don't want to lose you. I--"
+
+He caught up his coat.
+
+"Coming, Grahame," he said firmly. "Countess, I must beg your pardon
+ten thousand times for this abrupt departure. My servants will call your
+carriage."
+
+She leaned towards him, beautiful, anxious, alluring.
+
+"Reginald!"
+
+"Yes or no," he whispered in her ear.
+
+"Give me until to-morrow," she faltered.
+
+"Not one moment," he answered. "Yes--now, this instant--or I go!"
+
+"Brott! My dear man, we have not a second to lose."
+
+"You hear!" he muttered. "Yes or no?"
+
+She trembled.
+
+"Give me until to-morrow," she begged. "It is for your own sake. For
+your own safety."
+
+He turned on his heel! His muttered speech was profane, but
+inarticulate. He sprang into the hansom by Grahame's side.
+
+"Euston!" the latter cried through the trap-door. "Double fare, cabby.
+We must catch the Scotchman."
+
+Lucille came out a few moments later, and looked up and down the street
+as her brougham drove smartly up. The hansom was fast disappearing in
+the distance. She looked after it and sighed.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI
+
+Lucille gave a little start of amazement as she realised that she was
+not alone in the brougham. She reached out for the check-cord, but a
+strong hand held hers.
+
+"My dear Lucille," a familiar voice exclaimed, "why this alarm? Is it
+your nerves or your eyesight which is failing you?"
+
+Her hand dropped. She turned towards him.
+
+"It is you, then, Prince!" she said. "But why are you here? I do not
+understand."
+
+The Prince shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"It is so simple," he said. "We are all very anxious indeed to hear the
+result of your interview with Brott--and apart from that, I personally
+have too few opportunities to act as your escort to let a chance go by.
+I trust that my presence is not displeasing to you?"
+
+She laughed a little uneasily.
+
+"It is at any rate unnecessary," she answered. "But since you are here I
+may as well make my confession. I have failed."
+
+"It is incredible," the Prince murmured.
+
+"As you will--but it is true," she answered. "I have done my very best,
+or rather my worst, and the result has been failure. Mr. Brott has a
+great friend--a man named Grahame, whose influence prevailed against
+mine. He has gone to Scotland."
+
+"That is serious news," the Prince said quietly.
+
+Lucille leaned back amongst the cushions.
+
+"After all," she declared, "we are all out of place in this country.
+There is no scope whatever for such schemes and intrigues as you and all
+the rest of them delight in. In France and Russia, even in Austria,
+it is different. The working of all great organisation there is
+underground--it is easy enough to meet plot by counterplot, to suborn,
+to deceive, to undermine. But here all the great games of life seem to
+be played with the cards upon the table. We are hopelessly out of place.
+I cannot think, Prince, what ill chance led you to ever contemplate
+making your headquarters in London."
+
+The Prince stroked his long moustache.
+
+"That is all very well, Lucille," he said, "but you must remember that
+in England we have very large subscriptions to the Order. These people
+will not go on paying for nothing. There was a meeting of the London
+branch a few months ago, and it was decided that unless some practical
+work was done in this country all English subscriptions should cease. We
+had no alternative but to come over and attempt something. Brott is of
+course the bete noire of our friends here. He is distinctly the man to
+be struck at."
+
+"And what evil stroke of fortune," Lucille asked, "induced you to send
+for me?"
+
+"That is a very cruel speech, dear lady," the Prince murmured.
+
+"I hope," Lucille said, "that you have never for a moment imagined that
+I find any pleasure in what I am called upon to do."
+
+"Why not? It must be interesting. You can have had no sympathy with
+Brott--a hopeless plebeian, a very paragon of Anglo-Saxon stupidity?"
+
+Lucille laughed scornfully.
+
+"Reginald Brott is a man, at any rate, and an honest one," she answered.
+"But I am too selfish to think much of him. It is myself whom I pity. I
+have a home, Prince, and a husband. I want them both."
+
+"You amaze me," the Prince said slowly. "Lucille, indeed, you amaze me.
+You have been buried alive for three years. Positively we believed that
+our summons would sound to you like a message from Heaven."
+
+Lucille was silent for a moment. She rubbed the mist from the carriage
+window and looked out into the streets.
+
+"Well," she said, "I hope that you realise now how completely you
+have misunderstood me. I was perfectly happy in America. I have been
+perfectly miserable here. I suppose that I have grown too old for
+intrigues and adventures."
+
+"Too old, Lucille," the Prince murmured, leaning a little towards her.
+"Lucille, you are the most beautiful woman in London. Many others may
+have told you so, but there is no one, Lucille, who is so devotedly, so
+hopelessly your slave as I."
+
+She drew her hand away, and sat back in her corner. The man's hot
+breath fell upon her cheek, his eyes seemed almost phosphorescent in the
+darkness. Lucille could scarcely keep the biting words from her tongue.
+
+"You do not answer me, Lucille. You do not speak even a single kind
+word to me. Come! Surely we are old friends. We should understand one
+another. It is not a great deal that I ask from your kindness--not a
+great deal to you, but it is all the difference between happiness and
+misery for me."
+
+"This is a very worn-out game, Prince," Lucille said coldly. "You have
+been making love to women in very much the same manner for twenty years,
+and I--well, to be frank, I am utterly weary of being made love to
+like a doll. Laugh at me as you will, my husband is the only man who
+interests me in the slightest. My failure to-day is almost welcome to
+me. It has at least brought my work here to a close. Come, Prince, if
+you want to earn my eternal gratitude, tell me now that I am a free
+woman."
+
+"You give me credit," the Prince said slowly, "for great generosity. If
+I let you go it seems to me that I shall lose you altogether. You will
+go to your husband. He will take you away!"
+
+"Why not?" Lucille asked. "I want to go. I am tired of London. You
+cannot lose what you never possessed--what you never had the slightest
+chance of possessing."
+
+The Prince laughed softly--not a pleasant laugh, not even a mirthful
+one.
+
+"Dear lady," he said, "you speak not wisely. For I am very much in
+earnest when I say that I love you, and until you are kinder to me I
+shall not let you go."
+
+"That is rather a dangerous threat, is it not?" Lucille asked. "You dare
+to tell me openly that you will abuse your position, that you will
+keep me bound a servant to the cause, because of this foolish fancy of
+yours?"
+
+The Prince smiled at her through the gloom--a white, set smile.
+
+"It is no foolish fancy, Lucille. You will find that out before long.
+You have been cold to me all your life. Yet you would find me a better
+friend than enemy."
+
+"If I am to choose," she said steadily, "I shall choose the latter."
+
+"As you will," he answered. "In time you will change your mind."
+
+The carriage had stopped. The Prince alighted and held out his hand.
+Lucille half rose, and then with her foot upon the step she paused and
+looked around.
+
+"Where are we?" she exclaimed. "This is not Dorset House."
+
+"No, we are in Grosvenor Square," the Prince answered. "I forgot to tell
+you that we have a meeting arranged for here this evening. Permit me."
+But Lucille resumed her seat in the carriage.
+
+"It is your house, is it not?" she asked.
+
+"Yes. My house assuredly."
+
+"Very well," Lucille said. "I will come in when the Duchess of Dorset
+shows herself at the window or the front door--or Felix, or even De
+Brouillae."
+
+The Prince still held open the carriage door.
+
+"They will all be here," he assured her. "We are a few minutes early."
+
+"Then I will drive round to Dorset House and fetch the Duchess. It is
+only a few yards."
+
+The Prince hesitated. His cheeks were very white, and something like a
+scowl was blackening his heavy, insipid face.
+
+"Lucille," he said, "you are very foolish. It is not much I ask of you,
+but that little I will have or I pledge my word to it that things shall
+go ill with you and your husband. There is plain speech for you. Do not
+be absurd. Come within, and let us talk. What do you fear? The house is
+full of servants, and the carriage can wait for you here."
+
+Lucille smiled at him--a maddening smile.
+
+"I am not a child," she said, "and such conversations as I am forced to
+hold with you will not be under your own roof. Be so good as to tell the
+coachman to drive to Dorset House."
+
+The Prince turned on his heel with a furious oath.
+
+"He can drive you to Hell," he answered thickly.
+
+Lucille found the Duchess and Lady Carey together at Dorset House. She
+looked from one to the other.
+
+"I thought that there was a meeting to-night," she remarked.
+
+The Duchess shook her head.
+
+"Not to-night," she answered. "It would not be possible. General
+Dolinski is dining at Marlborough House, and De Broullae is in Paris.
+Now tell us all about Mr. Brott."
+
+"He has gone to Scotland," Lucille answered. "I have failed."
+
+Lady Carey looked up from the depths of the chair in which she was
+lounging.
+
+"And the prince?" she asked. "He went to meet you!"
+
+"He also failed," Lucille answered.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII
+
+Mr. SABIN drew a little breath, partly of satisfaction because he
+had discovered the place he sought, and partly of disgust at the
+neighbourhood in which he found himself. Nevertheless, he descended
+three steps from the court into which he had been directed, and pushed
+open the swing door, behind which Emil Sachs announced his desire
+to supply the world with dinners at eightpence and vin ordinaire at
+fourpence the small bottle.
+
+A stout black-eyed woman looked up at his entrance from behind the
+counter. The place was empty.
+
+"What does monsieur require she asked, peering forward through the gloom
+with some suspicion. For the eightpenny dinners were the scorn of the
+neighbourhood, and strangers were rare in the wine shop of Emil Sachs."
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled.
+
+"One of your excellent omelettes, my good Annette," he answered, "if
+your hand has not lost its cunning!"
+
+She gave a little cry.
+
+"It is monsieur!" she exclaimed. "After all these years it is monsieur!
+Ah, you will pardon that I did not recognise you. This place is a
+cellar. Monsieur has not changed. In the daylight one would know him
+anywhere."
+
+The woman talked fast, but even in that dim light Mr. Sabin knew quite
+well that she was shaking with fear. He could see the corners of her
+mouth twitch. Her black eyes rolled incessantly, but refused to meet
+his. Mr. Sabin frowned.
+
+"You are not glad to see me, Annette!"
+
+She leaned over the counter.
+
+"For monsieur's own sake," she whispered, "go!"
+
+Mr. Sabin stood quite still for a short space of time.
+
+"Can I rest in there for a few minutes?" he asked, pointing to the door
+which led into the room beyond.
+
+The woman hesitated. She looked up at the clock and down again.
+
+"Emil will return," she said, "at three. Monsieur were best out of the
+neighbourhood before then. For ten minutes it might be safe."
+
+Mr. Sabin passed forward. The woman lifted the flap of the counter
+and followed him. Within was a smaller room, far cleaner and better
+appointed than the general appearance of the place promised. Mr. Sabin
+seated himself at one of the small tables. The linen cloth, he noticed,
+was spotless, the cutlery and appointments polished and clean.
+
+"This, I presume," he remarked, "is not where you serve the eightpenny
+table d'hote?"
+
+The woman shrugged her shoulders.
+
+"But it would not be possible," she answered. "We have no customers for
+that. If one arrives we put together a few scraps. But one must make a
+pretense. Monsieur understands?"
+
+Mr. Sabin nodded.
+
+"I will take," he said, "a small glass of fin champagne."
+
+She vanished, and reappeared almost immediately with the brandy in a
+quaintly cut liqueur glass. A glance at the clock as she passed seemed
+to have increased her anxiety.
+
+"If monsieur will drink his liqueur and depart," she prayed. "Indeed, it
+will be for the best."
+
+Mr. Sabin set down his glass. His steadfast gaze seemed to reduce
+Annette into a state of nervous panic.
+
+"Annette," he said, "they have placed me upon the list."
+
+"It is true, monsieur," she answered. "Why do you come here?"
+
+"I wanted to know first for certain that they had ventured so far," Mr.
+Sabin said. "I believe that I am only the second person in this country
+who has been so much honoured."
+
+The woman drew nearer to him.
+
+"Monsieur," she said, "your only danger is to venture into such parts
+as these. London is so safe, and the law is merciless. They only watch.
+They will attempt nothing. Do not leave England. There is here no
+machinery of criminals. Besides, the life of monsieur is insured."
+
+"Insured?" Mr. Sabin remarked quietly. "That is good news. And who pays
+the premium?"
+
+"A great lady, monsieur! I know no more. Monsieur must go indeed. He has
+found his way into the only place in London where he is not safe."
+
+Mr. Sabin rose.
+
+"You are expecting, perhaps," he said, "one of my friends from the--"
+
+She interrupted him.
+
+"It is true," she declared. "He may be here at any instant. The time is
+already up. Oh, monsieur, indeed, indeed it would not do for him to find
+you."
+
+Mr. Sabin moved towards the door.
+
+"You are perhaps right," he said regretfully, "although I should much
+like to hear about this little matter of life insurance while I am
+here."
+
+"Indeed, monsieur," Annette declared, "I know nothing. There is nothing
+which I can tell monsieur."
+
+Mr. Sabin suddenly leaned forward. His gaze was compelling. His tone was
+low but terrible.
+
+"Annette," he said, "obey me. Send Emil here."
+
+The woman trembled, but she did not move. Mr. Sabin lifted his
+forefinger and pointed slowly to the door. The woman's lips parted, but
+she seemed to have lost the power of speech.
+
+"Send Emil here!" Mr. Sabin repeated slowly.
+
+Annette turned and left the room, groping her way to the door as though
+her eyesight had become uncertain. Mr. Sabin lit a cigarette and looked
+for a moment carefully into the small liqueur glass out of which he had
+drunk.
+
+"That was unwise," he said softly to himself. "Just such a blunder might
+have cost me everything."
+
+He held it up to the light and satisfied himself that no dregs remained.
+Then he took from his pocket a tiny little revolver, and placing it
+on the table before him, covered it with his handkerchief. Almost
+immediately a door at the farther end of the room opened and closed.
+A man in dark clothes, small, unnaturally pale, with deep-set eyes and
+nervous, twitching mouth, stood before him. Mr. Sabin smiled a welcome
+at him.
+
+"Good-morning, Emil Sachs," he said. "I am glad that you have shown
+discretion. Stand there in the light, please, and fold your arms.
+Thanks. Do not think that I am afraid of you, but I like to talk
+comfortably."
+
+"I am at monsieur's service," the man said in a low tone.
+
+"Exactly. Now, Emil, before starting to visit you I left a little note
+behind addressed to the chief of the police here--no, you need not
+start--to be sent to him only if my return were unduly delayed. You can
+guess what that note contained. It is not necessary for us to revert
+to--unpleasant subjects."
+
+The man moistened his dry lips.
+
+"It is not necessary," he repeated. "Monsieur is as safe here--from
+me--as at his own hotel."
+
+"Excellent!" Mr. Sabin said. "Now listen, Emil. It has pleased me
+chiefly, as you know, for the sake of your wife, the good Annette, to be
+very merciful to you as regards the past. But I do not propose to allow
+you to run a poison bureau for the advantage of the Prince of Saxe
+Leinitzer and his friends--more especially, perhaps, as I am at present
+upon his list of superfluous persons."
+
+The man trembled.
+
+"Monsieur," he said, "the Prince knows as much as you know, and he has
+not the mercy that one shows to a dog."
+
+"You will find," Mr. Sabin said, "that if you do not obey me, I myself
+can develop a similar disposition. Now answer me this! You have within
+the last few days supplied several people with that marvelous powder for
+the preparation of which you are so justly famed."
+
+"Several--no, monsieur! Two only."
+
+"Their names?"
+
+The man trembled.
+
+"If they should know!"
+
+"They will not, Emil. I will see to that."
+
+"The first I supplied to the order of the Prince."
+
+"Good! And the second?"
+
+"To a lady whose name I do not know."
+
+Mr. Sabin raised his eyebrows.
+
+"Is not that," he remarked, "a little irregular?"
+
+"The lady wrote her request before me in the yellow crayon. It was
+sufficient."
+
+"And you do not know her name, Emil?"
+
+"No, monsieur. She was dark and tall, and closely veiled. She was here
+but a few minutes since."
+
+"Dark and tall!" Mr. Sabin repeated to himself thoughtfully. "Emil, you
+are telling me the truth?"
+
+"I do not dare to tell you anything else, monsieur," the man answered.
+
+Mr. Sabin did not continue his interrogations for a few moments.
+Suddenly he looked up.
+
+"Has that lady left the place yet, Emil?"
+
+"No, monsieur!"
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled.
+
+"Have you a back exit?" he asked.
+
+"None that the lady would know of," Emil answered. "She must pass along
+the passage which borders this apartment, and enter the bar by a door
+from behind. If monsieur desires it, it is impossible for her to leave
+unobserved."
+
+"That is excellent, Emil," Mr. Sabin said. "Now there is one more
+question--quite a harmless one. Annette spoke of my life being in some
+way insured."
+
+"It is true, monsieur," Emil admitted. "A lady who also possessed
+the yellow crayon came here the day that--that monsieur incurred the
+displeasure of--of his friends. She tried to bribe me to blow up my
+laboratory and leave the country, or that I should substitute a harmless
+powder for any required by the Prince. I was obliged to refuse."
+
+"And then?"
+
+"Then she promised me a large sum if you were alive in six months, and
+made me at once a payment.
+
+"Dear me," Mr. Sabin said, "this is quite extraordinary."
+
+"I can tell monsieur the lady's name," Emil continued, "for she raised
+her veil, and everywhere the illustrated papers have been full of her
+picture. It was the lady who was besieged in a little town of South
+Africa, and who carried despatches for the general, disguised as a man."
+
+"Lady Carey!" Mr. Sabin remarked quietly.
+
+"That was the lady's name," Emil agreed.
+
+Mr. Sabin was thoughtful for a few moments. Then he looked up.
+
+"Emil Sachs," he said sternly, "you have given out at least one portion
+of your abominable concoction which is meant to end my days. Whether I
+shall escape it or not remains to be seen. I am forced at the best to
+discharge my servant, and to live the life of a hunted man. Now you have
+done enough mischief in the world. To-morrow morning a messenger will
+place in your hands two hundred pounds. A larger sum will await you at
+Baring's Bank in New York. You will go there and buy a small restaurant
+in the business quarter. This is your last chance, Emil. I give it to
+you for the sake of Annette."
+
+"And I accept it, monsieur, with gratitude."
+
+"For the present--"
+
+Mr. Sabin stopped short. His quick ears had caught the swish of woman's
+gown passing along the passage outside. Emil too had heard it.
+
+"It is the dark lady," he whispered, "who purchased from me the other
+powder. See, I open gently this door. Monsieur must both see and hear."
+
+The door at the end of the passage was opened. A woman stepped out into
+the little bar and made her way towards the door. Here she was met by
+a man entering. Mr. Sabin held up his forefinger to stop the terrified
+exclamation which trembled on Emil's lips. The woman was Lucille, the
+man the Prince. It was Lucille who was speaking.
+
+"You have followed me, Prince. It is intolerable."
+
+"Dear Lucille, it is for your own sake. These are not fit parts for you
+to visit alone."
+
+"It is my own business," she answered coldly.
+
+The Prince appeared to be in a complaisant mood.
+
+"Come," he said, "the affair is not worth a quarrel. I ask you no
+questions. Only since we are here I propose that we test the cooking of
+the good Annette. We will lunch together."
+
+"What, here?" she answered. "Absurd."
+
+"By no means," he answered. "As you doubtless know, the exterior of the
+place is entirely misleading. These people are old servants of mine. I
+can answer for the luncheon."
+
+"You can also eat it," came the prompt reply. "I am returning to the
+carriage."
+
+"But--"
+
+Mr. Sabin emerged through the swing door. "Your discretion, my dear
+Lucille," he said, smiling, "is excellent. The place is indeed better
+than it seems, and Annette's cookery may be all that the Prince
+claims. Yet I think I know better places for a luncheon party, and the
+ventilation is not of the best. May I suggest that you come with me
+instead to the Milan?"
+
+"Victor! You here?"
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled as he admitted the obvious fact. The Prince's face was
+as black as night.
+
+"Believe me," Mr. Sabin said, turning to the Prince, "I sympathise
+entirely with your feelings at the present moment. I myself have
+suffered in precisely the same manner. The fact is, intrigue in this
+country is almost an impossibility. At Paris, Vienna, Pesth, how
+different! You raise your little finger, and the deed is done.
+Superfluous people--like myself--are removed like the hairs from your
+chin. But here intrigue seems indeed to exist only within the pages of a
+shilling novel, or in a comic opera. The gentleman with a helmet there,
+who regards us so benignly, will presently earn a shilling by calling me
+a hansom. Yet in effect he does me a far greater service. He stands
+for a multitude of cold Anglo-Saxon laws, adamant, incorruptible,
+inflexible--as certain as the laws of Nature herself. I am quite aware
+that by this time I ought to be lying in a dark cellar with a gag in my
+mouth, or perhaps in the river with a dagger in my chest. But here in
+England, no!"
+
+The Prince smiled--to all appearance a very genial smile.
+
+"You are right, my dear friend," he said, "yet what you say possesses,
+shall we call it, a somewhat antediluvian flavour. Intrigue is no longer
+a clumsy game of knife and string and bowl. It becomes to-day a game of
+finesse. I can assure you that I have no desire to give a stage whistle
+and have you throttled at my feet. On the contrary, I beg you to use my
+carriage, which you will find in the street. You will lunch at the Milan
+with Lucille, and I shall retire discomfited to eat alone at my club.
+But the game is a long one, my dear friend. The new methods take time."
+
+"This conversation," Mr. Sabin said to Lucille, "is interesting, but
+it is a little ungallant. I think that we will resume it at some future
+occasion. Shall we accept the Prince's offer, or shall we be truly
+democratic and take a hansom."
+
+Lucille passed her arm through his and laughed.
+
+"You are robbing the Prince of me," she declared. "Let us leave him his
+carriage."
+
+She nodded her farewells to Saxe Leinitzer, who took leave of them with
+a low bow. As they waited at the corner for a hansom Mr. Sabin glanced
+back. The Prince had disappeared through the swing doors.
+
+"I want you to promise me one thing," Lucille said earnestly.
+
+"It is promised," Mr. Sabin answered.
+
+"You will not ask me the reason of my visit to this place?"
+
+"I have no curiosity," Mr. Sabin answered. "Come!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII
+
+Mr. Sabin, contrary to his usual custom, engaged a private room at the
+Milan. Lucille was in the highest spirits.
+
+"If only this were a game instead of reality!" she said, flashing
+a brilliant smile at him across the table, "I should find it most
+fascinating. You seem to come to me always when I want you most. And
+do you know, it is perfectly charming to be carried off by you in this
+manner."
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled at her, and there was a look in his eyes which shone
+there for no other woman.
+
+"It is in effect," he said, "keeping me young. Events seem to have
+enclosed us in a curious little cobweb. All the time we are struggling
+between the rankest primitivism and the most delicate intrigue. To-day
+is the triumph of primitivism."
+
+"Meaning that you, the medieval knight, have carried me off, the
+distressed maiden, on your shoulder."
+
+"Having confounded my enemy," he continued, smiling, "by an embarrassing
+situation, a little argument, and the distant view of a policeman's
+helmet."
+
+"This," she remarked, with a little satisfied sigh as she selected an
+ortolan, "is a very satisfactory place to be carried off to. And you,"
+she added, leaning across the table and touching his fingers for a
+moment tenderly, "are a very delightful knight-errant."
+
+He raised the fingers to his lips--the waiter had left the room. She
+blushed, but yielded her hand readily enough.
+
+"Victor," she murmured, "you would spoil the most faithless woman on
+earth for all her lovers. You make me very impatient."
+
+"Impatience, then," he declared, "must be the most infectious of fevers.
+For I too am a terrible sufferer."
+
+"If only the Prince," she said, "would be reasonable."
+
+"I am afraid," Mr. Sabin answered, "that from him we have not much to
+hope for."
+
+"Yet," she continued, "I have fulfilled all the conditions. Reginald
+Brott remains the enemy of our cause and Order. Yet some say that his
+influence upon the people is lessened. In any case, my work is over.
+He began to mistrust me long ago. To-day I believe that mistrust is the
+only feeling he has in connection with me. I shall demand my release."
+
+"I am afraid," Mr. Sabin said, "that Saxe Leinitzer has other reasons
+for keeping you at Dorset House."
+
+She shrugged her shoulders.
+
+"He has been very persistent even before I left Vienna. But he must know
+that it is hopeless. I have never encouraged him."
+
+"I am sure of it," Mr. Sabin said. "It is the incorrigible vanity of
+the man which will not be denied. He has been taught to believe himself
+irresistible. I have never doubted you for a single moment, Lucille. I
+could not. But you have been the slave of these people long enough.
+As you say, your task is over. Its failure was always certain. Brott
+believes in his destiny, and it will be no slight thing which will keep
+him from following it. They must give you back to me."
+
+"We will go back to America," she said. "I have never been so happy as
+at Lenox."
+
+"Nor I," Mr. Sahin said softly.
+
+"Besides," she continued, "the times have changed since I joined the
+Society. In Hungary you know how things were. The Socialists were
+carrying all before them, a united solid body. The aristocracy were
+forced to enter into some sort of combination against them. We saved
+Austria, I am not sure that we did not save Russia. But England is
+different. The aristocracy here are a strong resident class. They have
+their House of Lords, they own the land, and will own it for many years
+to come, their position is unassailable. It is the worst country in
+Europe for us to work in. The very climate and the dispositions of the
+people are inimical to intrigue. It is Muriel Carey who brought the
+Society here. It was a mistake. The country is in no need of it. There
+is no scope for it."
+
+"If only one could get beyond Saxe Leinitzer," Mr. Sabin said.
+
+She shook her head.
+
+"Behind him," she said, "there is only the one to whom all reference is
+forbidden. And there is no man in the world who would be less likely to
+listen to an appeal from you--or from me."
+
+"After all," Mr. Sabin said, "though Saxe Leinitzer is our enemy, I
+am not sure that he can do us any harm. If he declines to release
+you--well, when the twelve months are up you are free whether he wishes
+it or not. He has put me outside the pale. But this is not, or never
+was, a vindictive Society. They do not deal in assassinations. In this
+country at least anything of the sort is rarely attempted. If I were
+a young man with my life to live in the capitals of Europe I should be
+more or less a social outcast, I suppose. But I am proof against that
+sort of thing."
+
+Lucille looked a little doubtful.
+
+"The Prince," she said, "is an intriguer of the old school. I know that
+in Vienna he has more than once made use of more violent means than he
+would dare to do here. And there is an underneath machinery very seldom
+used, I believe, and of which none of us who are ordinary members know
+anything at all, which gives him terrible powers."
+
+Mr. Sabin nodded grimly.
+
+"It was worked against me in America," he said, "but I got the best of
+it. Here in England I do not believe that he would dare to use it. If
+so, I think that before now it would have been aimed at Brott. I have
+just read his Glasgow speech. If he becomes Premier it will lead to
+something like a revolution."
+
+She sighed.
+
+"Brott is a clever man, and a strong man," she said. "I am sorry for
+him, but I do not believe that he will never become Prime Minister of
+England."
+
+Mr. Sabin sipped his wine thoughtfully.
+
+"I believe," he said, "that intrigue is the resource of those who have
+lived their lives so quickly that they have found weariness. For these
+things to-day interest me very little. I am only anxious to have you
+back again, Lucille, to find ourselves on our way to our old home."
+
+She laughed softly.
+
+"And I used to think," she said, "that after all I could only keep you a
+little time--that presently the voices from the outside world would come
+whispering in your ears, and you would steal back again to where the
+wheels of life were turning."
+
+"A man," he answered, "is not easily whispered out of Paradise."
+
+She laughed at him.
+
+"Ah, it is so easy," she said, "to know that your youth was spent at a
+court."
+
+"There is only one court," he answered, "where men learn to speak the
+truth."
+
+She leaned back in her chair.
+
+"Oh, you are incorrigible," she said softly. "The one role in life in
+which I fancied you ill at ease you seem to fill to perfection."
+
+"And that?"
+
+"You are an adorable husband!"
+
+"I should like," he said, "a better opportunity to prove it!"
+
+"Let us hope," she murmured, "that our separation is nearly over. I
+shall appeal to the Prince to-night. My remaining at Dorset House is no
+longer necessary."
+
+"I shall come," he said, "and demand you in person."
+
+She shook her head.
+
+"No! They would not let you in, and it would make it more difficult. Be
+patient a little longer."
+
+He came and sat by her side. She leaned over to meet his embrace.
+
+"You make patience," he murmured, "a torture!"
+
+      *           *           *           *           *
+
+Mr. Sabin walked home to his rooms late in the afternoon, well content
+on the whole with his day. He was in no manner prepared for the shock
+which greeted him on entering his sitting-room. Duson was leaning back
+in his most comfortable easy-chair.
+
+"Duson!" Mr. Sabin said sharply. "What does this mean?"
+
+There was no answer. Mr. Sabin moved quickly forward, and then stopped
+short. He had seen dead men, and he knew the signs. Duson was stone
+dead.
+
+Mr. Sabin's nerve answered to this demand upon it. He checked his first
+impulse to ring the bell, and looked carefully on the table for some
+note or message from the dead man. He found it almost at once--a large
+envelope in Duson's handwriting. Mr. Sabin hastily broke the seal and
+read:
+
+  "Monsieur,--I kill myself because it is easiest and best.  The
+  poison was given me for you, but I have not the courage to become
+  a murderer, or afterwards to conceal my guilt.  Monsieur has been
+  a good master to me, and also Madame la Comtesse was always
+  indulgent and kind.  The mistake of my life has been the joining
+  the lower order of the Society.  The money which I have received
+  has been but a poor return for the anxiety and trouble which have
+  come upon me since Madame la Comtesse left America.  Now that I
+  seek shelter in the grave I am free to warn Monsieur that the
+  Prince of S. L. is his determined and merciless enemy, and that
+  he has already made an unlawful use of his position in the Society
+  for the sake of private vengeance.  If monsieur would make a
+  powerful friend he should seek the Lady Muriel Carey.
+
+  "Monsieur will be so good as to destroy this when read.  My will
+  is in my trunk.
+                                 "Your Grace's faithful servant,
+                                         "Jules Duson."
+
+Mr. Sabin read this letter carefully through to the end. Then he put it
+into his pocket-book and quickly rang the bell.
+
+"You had better send for a doctor at once," he said to the waiter who
+appeared. "My servant appears to have suffered from some sudden illness.
+I am afraid that he is quite dead."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX
+
+"You spoke, my dear Lucille," the Duchess of Dorset said, "of your
+departure. Is not that a little premature?"
+
+Lucille shrugged her beautiful shoulders, and leaned back in her
+corner of the couch with half-closed eyes. The Duchess, who was very
+Anglo-Saxon, was an easy person to read, and Lucille was anxious to know
+her fate.
+
+"Why premature?" she asked. "I was sent for to use my influence with
+Reginald Brott. Well, I did my best, and I believe that for days it
+was just a chance whether I did not succeed. However, as it happened,
+I failed. One of his friends came and pulled him away just as he was
+wavering. He has declared himself now once and for all. After his speech
+at Glasgow he cannot draw back. I was brought all the way from America,
+and I want to go back to my husband."
+
+The Duchess pursed her lips.
+
+"When one has the honour, my dear," she said, "of belonging to so
+wonderful an organisation as this we must not consider too closely the
+selfish claims of family. I am sure that years ago I should have laughed
+at any one who had told me that I, Georgina Croxton, should ever belong
+to such a thing as a secret society, even though it had some connection
+with so harmless and excellent an organisation as the Primrose League."
+
+"It does seem remarkable," Lucille murmured.
+
+"But look what terrible times have come upon us," the Duchess continued,
+without heeding the interruption. "When I was a girl a Radical was a
+person absolutely without consideration. Now all our great cities are
+hot-beds of Socialism and--and anarchism. The whole country seems banded
+together against the aristocracy and the landowners. Combination amongst
+us became absolutely necessary in some shape or form. When the Prince
+came and began to drop hints about the way the spread of Socialism had
+been checked in Hungary and Austria, and even Germany, I was interested
+from the first. And when he went further, and spoke of the Society, it
+was I who persuaded Dorset to join. Dear man, he is very earnest, but
+very slow, and very averse to anything at all secretive. I am sure the
+reflection that he is a member of a secret society, even although it
+is simply a linking together of the aristocracy of Europe in their own
+defence, has kept him awake for many a night."
+
+Lucille was a little bored.
+
+"The Society," she said, "is an admirable one enough, but just now I am
+beginning to feel it a little exacting. I think that the Prince expects
+a good deal of one. I shall certainly ask for my release to-night."
+
+The Duchess looked doubtful.
+
+"Release!" she repeated. "Come, is that not rather an exaggerated
+expression? I trust that your stay at Dorset House has not in any way
+suggested an imprisonment."
+
+"On the contrary," Lucille answered; "you and the Duke have been most
+kind. But you must remember that I have home of my own--and a husband of
+my own."
+
+"I have no doubt," the Duchess said, "that you will be able to return
+to them some day. But you must not be impatient. I do not think that the
+Prince has given up all hopes of Reginald Brott yet."
+
+Lucille was silent. So her emancipation was to be postponed. After all,
+it was what she had feared. She sat watching idly the Duchess's knitting
+needles. Lady Carey came sweeping in, wonderful in a black velvet gown
+and a display of jewels almost barbaric.
+
+"On my way to the opera," she announced. "The Maddersons sent me their
+box. Will any of you good people come? What do you say, Lucille?"
+
+Lucille shook her head.
+
+"My toilette is deficient," she said; "and besides, I am staying at home
+to see the Prince. We expect him this evening."
+
+"You'll probably be disappointed then," Lady Carey remarked, "for he's
+going to join us at the opera. Run and change your gown. I'll wait."
+
+"Are you sure that the Prince will be there?" Lucille asked.
+
+"Certain."
+
+"Then I will come," she said, "if the Duchess will excuse me."
+
+The Duchess and Lady Carey were left alone for a few minutes. The former
+put down her knitting.
+
+"Why do we keep that woman here," she asked, "now that Brott has broken
+away from her altogether?"
+
+Lady Carey laughed meaningly.
+
+"Better ask the Prince," she remarked.
+
+The Duchess frowned.
+
+"My dear Muriel," she said, "I think that you are wrong to make such
+insinuations. I am sure that the Prince is too much devoted to our cause
+to allow any personal considerations to intervene."
+
+Lady Carey yawned.
+
+"Rats!" she exclaimed.
+
+The Duchess took up her knitting, and went on with it without remark.
+Lady Carey burst out laughing.
+
+"Don't look so shocked," she exclaimed. "It's funny. I can't help being
+a bit slangy. You do take everything so seriously. Of course you can see
+that the Prince is waiting to make a fool of himself over Lucille. He
+has been trying more or less all his life."
+
+"He may admire her," the Duchess said. "I am sure that he would not
+allow that to influence him in his present position. By the bye, she is
+anxious to leave us now that the Brott affair is over. Do you think that
+the Prince will agree?"
+
+Lady Carey's face hardened.
+
+"I am sure that he will not," she said coolly. "There are reasons why
+she may not at present be allowed to rejoin her husband."
+
+The Duchess used her needles briskly.
+
+"For my part," she said, "I can see no object in keeping her here any
+longer. Mr. Brott has shown himself quite capable of keeping her at
+arm's length. I cannot see what further use she is."
+
+Lady Carey heard the flutter of skirts outside and rose.
+
+"There are wheels within wheels," she remarked. "My dear Lucille, what
+a charming toilette. We shall have the lady journalists besieging us
+in our box. Paquin, of course. Good-night, Duchess. Glad to see you're
+getting on with the socks, or stockings, do you call them?"
+
+Insolent aristocratic, now and then attractive in some strange
+suggestive way, Lady Carey sat in front of the box and exchanged
+greetings with her friends. Presently the Prince came in and took the
+chair between the two women. Lady Carey greeted him with a nod.
+
+"Here's Lucille dying to return to her lawful husband," she remarked.
+"Odd thing, isn't it? Most of the married women I ever knew are dying
+to get away from theirs. You can make her happy or miserable in a few
+moments."
+
+The Prince leaned over between them, but he looked only at Lucille.
+
+"I wish that I could," he murmured. "I wish that that were within my
+power."
+
+"It is," she answered coolly. "Muriel is quite right. I am most anxious
+to return to my husband."
+
+The Prince said nothing. Lady Carey, glancing towards him at that
+moment, was surprised at certain signs of disquietude in his face which
+startled her.
+
+"What is the matter with you?" she asked almost roughly.
+
+"Matter with me? Nothing," he answered. "Why this unaccustomed
+solicitude?"
+
+Lady Carey looked into his face fiercely. He was pale, and there was
+a strained look about his eyes. He seemed, too, to be listening. From
+outside in the street came faintly to their ears the cry of a newsboy.
+
+"Get me an evening paper," she whispered in his ear.
+
+He got up and left the box. Lucille was watching the people below and
+had not appreciated the significance of what had been passing between
+the two. Lady Carey leaned back in the box with half-closed eyes. Her
+fingers were clenched nervously together, her bosom was rising and
+falling quickly. If he had dared to defy her! What was it the newsboys
+were calling? What a jargon! Why did not Saxe Leinitzer return?
+Perhaps he was afraid! Her heart stood still for a moment, and a little
+half-stifled cry broke from her lips. Lucille looked around quickly.
+
+"What is the matter, Muriel?" she asked. "Are you faint?"
+
+"Faint, no," Lady Carey answered roughly. "I'm quite well. Don't take
+any notice of me. Do you hear? Don't look at me."
+
+Lucille obeyed. Lady Carey sat quite still with her hand pressed to her
+side. It was a stifling pain. She was sure that she had heard at
+last. "Sudden death of a visitor at the Carlton Hotel." The place was
+beginning to go round.
+
+Saxe Leinitzer returned. His face to her seemed positively ghastly. He
+carried an evening paper in his hand. She snatched it away from him. It
+was there before her in bold, black letters:
+
+"Sudden death in the Carlton Hotel."
+
+Her eyes, dim a moment ago, suddenly blazed fire upon him.
+
+"It shall be a life for a life," she whispered. "If you have killed him
+you shall die."
+
+Lucille looked at them bewildered. And just then came a sharp tap at the
+box door. No one answered it, but the door was softly opened. Mr. Sabin
+stood upon the threshold.
+
+"Pray, don't let me disturb you," he said. "I was unable to refrain from
+paying you a brief visit. Why, Prince, Lady Carey! I can assure you that
+I am no ghost."
+
+He glanced from one to the other with a delicate smile of mockery
+parting his thin lips. For upon the Prince's forehead the perspiration
+stood out like beads, and he shrank away from Mr. Sabin as from some
+unholy thing. Lady Carey had fallen back across her chair. Her hand was
+still pressed to her side, and her face was very pale. A nervous little
+laugh broke from her lips.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX
+
+Mr. Sabin found a fourth chair, and calmly seated himself by Lucille's
+side. But his eyes were fixed upon Lady Carey. She was slowly recovering
+herself, but Mr. Sabin, who had never properly understood her attitude
+towards him, was puzzled at the air of intense relief which almost shone
+in her face.
+
+"You seem--all of you," he remarked suavely, "to have found the music
+a little exciting. Wagner certainly knew how to find his way to the
+emotions. Or perhaps I interrupted an interesting discussion?"
+
+Lucille smiled gently upon him.
+
+"These two," she said, looking from the Prince to Lady Carey, "seem to
+have been afflicted with a sudden nervous excitement, and yet I do not
+think that they are, either of them, very susceptible to music."
+
+Lady Carey leaned forward, and looked at him from behind the large fan
+of white feathers which she was lazily fluttering before her face.
+
+"Your entrance," she murmured, "was most opportune, besides being very
+welcome. The Prince and I were literally--on the point of flying at one
+another's throats."
+
+Mr. Sabin glanced at his neighbour and smiled.
+
+"You are certainly a little out of sorts, Saxe Leinitzer," he remarked.
+"You look pale, and your hands are not quite steady. Nerves, I suppose.
+You should see Dr. Carson in Brook Street."
+
+The Prince shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"My health," he said, "was never better. It is true that your coming
+was somewhat of a surprise," he added, looking steadily at Mr. Sabin.
+"I understood that you had gone for a short journey, and I was not
+expecting to see you back again so soon."
+
+"Duson," Mr. Sabin said, "has taken that short journey instead. It
+was rather a liberty, but he left a letter for me fully explaining his
+motives. I cannot blame him."
+
+The Prince stroked his moustache.
+
+"Ah!" he remarked. "That is a pity. You may, however, find it politic,
+even necessary, to join him very shortly."
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled grimly.
+
+"I shall go when I am ready," he said, "not before!"
+
+Lucille looked from one to the other with protesting eyebrows.
+
+"Come," she said, "it is very impolite of you to talk in riddles before
+my face. I have been flattering myself, Victor, that you were here to
+see me. Do not wound my vanity."
+
+He whispered something in her ear, and she laughed softly back at him.
+The Prince, with the evening paper in his hand, escaped from the box,
+and found a retired spot where he could read the little paragraph at his
+leisure. Lady Carey pretended to be absorbed by the music.
+
+"Has anything happened, Victor?" Lucille whispered.
+
+He hesitated.
+
+"Well, in a sense, yes," he admitted. "I appear to have become unpopular
+with our friend, the Prince. Duson, who has always been a spy upon my
+movements, was entrusted with a little sleeping draught for me, which he
+preferred to take himself. That is all."
+
+"Duson is--"
+
+He nodded.
+
+"He is dead!"
+
+Lucille went very pale.
+
+"This is horrible!" she murmured
+
+"The Prince is a little annoyed, naturally," Mr. Sabin said. "It is
+vexing to have your plans upset in such a manner."
+
+She shuddered.
+
+"He is hateful! Victor, I fear that he does not mean to let me leave
+Dorset House just yet. I am almost inclined to become, like you, an
+outcast. Who knows--we might go free. Bloodshed is always avoided as
+much as possible, and I do not see how else they could strike at me.
+Social ostracism is their chief weapon. But in America that could not
+hurt us."
+
+He shook his head.
+
+"Not yet," he said. "I am sure that Saxe Leinitzer is not playing the
+game. But he is too well served here to make defiance wise."
+
+"You run the risk yourself," she protested.
+
+He smiled.
+
+"It is a different matter. By the bye, we are overheard."
+
+Lady Carey had forgotten to listen any more to the music. She was
+watching them both, a steely light in her eyes, her fingers nervously
+entwined. The Prince was still absent.
+
+"Pray do not consider me," she begged. "So far as I am concerned, your
+conversation is of no possible interest. But I think you had better
+remember that the Prince is in the corridor just outside."
+
+"We are much obliged to you," Mr. Sabin said. "The Prince may hear every
+word I have to say about him. But all the same, I thank you for your
+warning."
+
+"I fear that we are very unsociable, Muriel," Lucille said, "and, after
+all, I should never have been here but for you."
+
+Lady Carey turned her left shoulder upon them.
+
+"I beg," she said, "that you will leave me alone with the music. I
+prefer it."
+
+The Prince suddenly stood upon the threshold. His hand rested lightly
+upon the arm of another man.
+
+"Come in, Brott," he said. "The women will be charmed to see you. And I
+don't suppose they've read your speeches. Countess, here is the man who
+counts all equal under the sun, who decries class, and recognises no
+social distinctions. Brott was born to lead a revolution. He is our
+natural enemy. Let us all try to convert him."
+
+Brott was pale, and deep new lines were furrowed on his face.
+Nevertheless he smiled faintly as he bowed over Lucille's fingers.
+
+"My introduction," he remarked, "is scarcely reassuring. Yet here at
+least, if anywhere in the world, we should all meet upon equal ground.
+Music is a universal leveler."
+
+"And we haven't a chance," Lady Carey remarked with uplifted eyebrows,
+"of listening to a bar of it."
+
+Lucille welcomed the newcomer coldly. Nevertheless, he manoeuvred
+himself into the place by her side. She took up her fan and commenced
+swinging it thoughtfully.
+
+"You are surprised to see me here?" he murmured.
+
+"Yes!" she admitted.
+
+He looked wearily away from the stage up into her face.
+
+"And I too," he said. "I am surprised to find myself here!"
+
+"I pictured you," she remarked, "as immersed in affairs. Did I not hear
+something of a Radical ministry with you for Premier?"
+
+"It has been spoken of," he admitted.
+
+"Then I really cannot see," she said, "what you are doing here."
+
+"Why not?" he asked doggedly.
+
+She shrugged her shoulders.
+
+"In the first place," she said, "you ought to be rushing about amongst
+your supporters, keeping them up to the mark, and all that sort of
+thing. And in the second--"
+
+"Well?"
+
+"Are we not the very people against whom you have declared war?"
+
+"I have declared war against no people," he answered. "It is systems and
+classes, abuses, injustice against which I have been forced to speak.
+I would not deprive your Order of a single privilege to which they are
+justly entitled. But you must remember that I am a people's man. Their
+cause is mine. They look to me as their mouthpiece."
+
+Lucille shrugged her shoulders.
+
+"You cannot evade the point," she said. "If you are the, what do you
+call it, the mouthpiece of the people, I do not see how you can be
+anything else than the enemy of the aristocracy."
+
+"The aristocracy? Who are they?" he asked. "I am the enemy of all those
+who, because they possess an ancient name and inherited wealth, consider
+themselves the God-appointed bullies of the poor, dealing them out
+meagre charities, lordly patronage, an unspoken but bitter contempt. But
+the aristocracy of the earth are not of such as these. Your class are
+furnishing the world with advanced thinkers every year, every month!
+Inherited prejudices can never survive the next few generations. The
+fusion of classes must come."
+
+She shook her head.
+
+"You are sanguine, my friend," she said. "Many generations have come and
+gone since the wonderful pages of history were opened to us. And during
+all these years how much nearer have the serf and the aristocrat come
+together? Nay, have they not rather drifted apart?... But listen! This
+is the great chorus. We must not miss it."
+
+"So the Prince has brought back the wanderer," Lady Carey whispered to
+Mr. Sabin behind her fan. "Hasn't he rather the air of a sheep who has
+strayed from the fold?"
+
+Mr. Sabin raised the horn eyeglass, which he so seldom used, and
+contemplated Brott steadily.
+
+"He reminds me more than ever," he remarked, "of Rienzi. He is like a
+man torn asunder by great causes. They say that his speech at Glasgow
+was the triumph of a born orator."
+
+Lady Carey shrugged her shoulders.
+
+"It was practically the preaching a revolution to the people," she said.
+"A few more such, and we might have the red flag waving. He left Glasgow
+in a ferment. If he really comes into power, what are we to expect?"
+
+"To the onlookers," Mr. Sabin remarked, "a revolution in this country
+would possess many interesting features. The common people lack the
+ferocity of our own rabble, but they are even more determined. I may yet
+live to see an English Duke earning an honest living in the States."
+
+"It depends very much upon Brott," Lady Carey said. "For his own sake it
+is a pity that he is in love with Lucille."
+
+Mr. Sabin agreed with her blandly.
+
+"It is," he affirmed, "a most regrettable incident."
+
+She leaned a little towards him. The box was not a large one, and their
+chairs already touched.
+
+"Are you a jealous husband?" she asked.
+
+"Horribly," he answered.
+
+"Your devotion to Lucille, or rather the singleness of your devotion to
+Lucille," she remarked, "is positively the most gauche thing about you.
+It is--absolutely callow!"
+
+He laughed gently.
+
+"Did I not always tell you," he said, "that when I did marry I should
+make an excellent husband?"
+
+"You are at least," she answered sharply, "a very complaisant one."
+
+The Prince leaned forward from the shadows of the box.
+
+"I invite you all," he said, "to supper with me. It is something of an
+occasion, this! For I do not think that we shall all meet again just as
+we are now for a very long time."
+
+"Your invitation," Mr. Sabin remarked, "is most agreeable. But your
+suggestion is, to say the least of it, nebulous. I do not see what is to
+prevent your all having supper with me to-morrow evening."
+
+Lady Carey laughed as she rose, and stretched out her hand for her
+cloak.
+
+"To-morrow evening," she said, "is a long way off. Let us make sure of
+to-night--before the Prince changes his mind."
+
+Mr. Sabin bowed low.
+
+"To-night by all means," he declared. "But my invitation remains--a
+challenge!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI
+
+The Prince, being host, arranged the places at his supper-table. Mr.
+Sabin found himself, therefore, between Lady Carey and a young German
+attache, whom they had met in the ante-room of the restaurant. Lucille
+had the Prince and Mr. Brott on either side of her.
+
+Lady Carey monopolised at first the greater part of the conversation.
+Mr. Sabin was unusually silent. The German attache, whose name was Baron
+von Opperman, did not speak until the champagne was served, when he
+threw a bombshell into the midst of the little party.
+
+"I hear," he said, with a broad and seraphic smile, "that in this hotel
+there has to-day a murder been committed."
+
+Baron von Opperman was suddenly the cynosure of several pairs of eyes.
+He was delighted with the success of his attempt towards the general
+entertainment.
+
+"The evening papers," he continued, "they have in them news of a sudden
+death. But in the hotel here now they are speaking of something--what
+you call more--mysterious. There has been ordered an examination
+post-mortem!"
+
+"It is a case of poisoning then, I presume?" the Prince asked, leaning
+forward.
+
+"It is so supposed," the attache answered. "It seems that the doctors
+could find no trace of disease, nothing to have caused death. They
+were not able to decide anything. The man, they said, was in perfect
+health--but dead."
+
+"It must have been, then," the Prince remarked, "a very wonderful
+poison."
+
+"Without doubt," Baron Opperman answered.
+
+The Prince sighed gently.
+
+"There are many such," he murmured. "Indeed the science of toxicology
+was never so ill-understood as now. I am assured that there are many
+poisons known only to a few chemists in the world, a single grain of
+which is sufficient to destroy the strongest man and leave not the
+slightest trace behind. If the poisoner be sufficiently accomplished he
+can pursue his--calling without the faintest risk of detection."
+
+Mr. Sabin sipped his wine thoughtfully.
+
+"The Prince is, I believe, right," he remarked. "It is for that reason,
+doubtless, that I have heard of men whose lives have been threatened,
+who have deposited in safe places a sealed statement of the danger in
+which they find themselves, with an account of its source, so that if
+they should come to an end in any way mysterious there may be evidence
+against their murderers."
+
+"A very reasonable and judicious precaution," the Prince remarked with
+glittering eyes. "Only if the poison was indeed of such a nature that it
+was not possible to trace it nothing worse than suspicion could ever be
+the lot of any one."
+
+Mr. Sabin helped himself carefully to salad, and resumed the discussion
+with his next course.
+
+"Perhaps not," he admitted. "But you must remember that suspicion is of
+itself a grievous embarrassment. No man likes to feel that he is being
+suspected of murder. By the bye, is it known whom the unfortunate person
+was?"
+
+"The servant of a French nobleman who is staying in the hotel," Mr.
+Brott remarked. "I heard as much as that."
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled. Lady Carey glanced at him meaningly.
+
+"You have worried the Prince quite sufficiently," she whispered. "Change
+the subject."
+
+Mr. Sabin bowed.
+
+"You are very considerate--to the Prince," he said.
+
+"It is perhaps for your sake," she answered. "And as for the
+Prince--well, you know, or you should know, for how much he counts with
+me."
+
+Mr. Sabin glanced at her curiously. She was a little flushed as though
+with some inward excitement. Her eyes were bright and soft. Despite a
+certain angularity of figure and her hollow cheeks she was certainly one
+of the most distinguished-looking women in the room.
+
+"You are so dense," she whispered in his ear, "wilfully dense, perhaps.
+You will not understand that I wish to be your friend."
+
+He smiled with gentle deprecation.
+
+"Do you blame me," he murmured, "if I seem incredulous? For I am an old
+man, and you are spoken of always as the friend of my enemy, the friend
+of the Prince."
+
+"I wonder," she said thoughtfully, "if this is really the secret of your
+mistrust? Do you indeed fear that I have no other interest in life save
+to serve Saxe Leinitzer?"
+
+"As to that," he answered, "I cannot say. Yet I know that only a few
+months ago you were acting under orders from him. It is you who brought
+Lucille from America. It was through you that the first blow was struck
+at my happiness."
+
+"Cannot I atone?" she murmured under her breath. "If I can I will.
+And as for the present, well, I am outside his schemes now. Let us be
+friends. You would find me a very valuable ally."
+
+"Let it be so," he answered without emotion. "You shall help me, if you
+will, to regain Lucille. I promise you then that my gratitude shall not
+disappoint you."
+
+She bit her lip.
+
+"And are you sure," she whispered, "that Lucille is anxious to be won
+back? She loves intrigue, excitement, the sense of being concerned
+in important doings. Besides--you must have heard what they say about
+her--and Brott. Look at her now. She wears her grass widowhood lightly
+enough."
+
+Mr. Sabin looked across the table. Lucille had indeed all the appearance
+of a woman thoroughly at peace with the world and herself. Brott was
+talking to her in smothered and eager undertones. The Prince was waiting
+for an opportunity to intervene. Mr. Sabin looked into Brott's white
+strong face, and was thoughtful.
+
+"It is a great power--the power of my sex," Lady Carey continued, with
+a faint, subtle smile. "A word from Lucille, and the history book of the
+future must be differently written."
+
+"She will not speak that word," Mr. Sabin said. Lady Carey shrugged
+her shoulders. The subtlety of her smile faded away. Her whole face
+expressed a contemptuous and self-assured cynicism.
+
+"You know her very well," she murmured. "Yet she and I are no strangers.
+She is one who loves to taste--no, to drink--deeply of all the
+experiences of life. Why should we blame her, you and I? Have we not the
+same desire?"
+
+Mr. Sabin lit a cigarette.
+
+"Once, perhaps," he remarked. "You must not forget that I am no longer a
+young man."
+
+She leaned towards him.
+
+"You will die young," she murmured. "You are not of the breed of men who
+grow old."
+
+"Do you mean to turn my head?" he asked her, with a humorous smile.
+
+"It would be easier," she answered, "than to touch your heart."
+
+Then Lucille looked across at them--and Mr. Sabin suddenly remembered
+that Reginald Brott knew them both only as strangers.
+
+"Muriel," she said, "you are behaving disgracefully."
+
+"I am doing my best," Lady Carey answered, "to keep you in countenance."
+
+The eyes of the two women met for a moment, and though the smiles
+lingered still upon their faces Lady Carey at any rate was not able to
+wholly conceal her hatred. Lucille shrugged her shoulders.
+
+"I am doing my best," she said, "to convert Mr. Brott."
+
+"To what?" Lady Carey asked.
+
+"To a sane point of view concerning the holiness of the aristocracy,"
+Lucille answered. "I am afraid though that I have made very little
+impression. In his heart I believe Mr. Brott would like to see us all
+working for our living, school-teachers and dressmakers, and that sort
+of thing, you know."
+
+Mr. Brott protested.
+
+"I am not even," he declared, "moderately advanced in my views as
+regards matters of your sex. To tell you the truth, I do not like women
+to work at all outside their homes."
+
+Lady Carey laughed.
+
+"My dear," she said to Lucille, "you and I may as well retire in
+despair. Can't you see the sort of woman Mr. Brott admires? She isn't
+like us a bit. She is probably a healthy, ruddy-cheeked young person who
+lives in the country, gets up to breakfast to pour out the coffee for
+some sort of a male relative, goes round the garden snipping off roses
+in big gloves and a huge basket, interviews the cook, orders the dinner,
+makes fancy waistcoats for her husband, and failing a sewing maid, does
+the mending for the family. You and I, Lucille, are not like that."
+
+"Well, you have mentioned nothing which I couldn't do, if it seemed
+worth while," Lucille objected. "It sounds very primitive and
+delightful. I am sure we are all too luxurious and too lazy. I think we
+ought to turn over a new leaf."
+
+"For you, dear Lucille," Lady Carey said with suave and deadly satire,
+"what improvement is possible? You have all that you could desire. It
+is much less fortunate persons, such as myself, to whom Utopia must seem
+such a delightful place."
+
+A frock-coated and altogether immaculate young man approached their
+table and accosted Mr. Sabin.
+
+"I beg your pardon, sir," he said, "but the manager would be much
+obliged if you would spare him a moment or two in his private room as
+soon as possible."
+
+Mr. Sabin nodded.
+
+"In a few minutes," he answered.
+
+The little party broke up almost immediately. Coffee was ordered in the
+palm court, where the band was playing. Mr. Sabin and the Prince fell a
+little behind the others on the way out of the room.
+
+"You heard my summons?" Mr. Sabin asked.
+
+"Yes!"
+
+"I am going to be cross-examined as regards Duson. I am no longer a
+member of the Order. What is to prevent my setting them upon the right
+track?"
+
+"The fact," the Prince said coolly, "that you are hoping one day to
+recover Lucille."
+
+"I doubt," Mr. Sabin said, "whether you are strong enough to keep her
+from me."
+
+The Prince smiled. All his white teeth were showing.
+
+"Come," he said, "you know better than--much better than that. Lucille
+must wait her release. You know that."
+
+"I will buy it," Mr. Sabin said, "with a lie to the manager here, or I
+will tell the truth and still take her from you."
+
+The Prince stood upon the topmost step of the balcony. Below was the
+palm court, with many little groups of people dotted about.
+
+"My dear friend," he said, "Duson died absolutely of his own free will.
+You know that quite well. We should have preferred that the matter had
+been otherwise arranged. But as it is we are safe, absolutely safe."
+
+"Duson's letter!" Mr. Sabin remarked.
+
+"You will not show it," the Prince answered. "You cannot. You have kept
+it too long. And, after all, you cannot escape from the main fact. Duson
+committed suicide."
+
+"He was incited to murder. His letter proves it."
+
+The Prince shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"By whom? Ah, how your story would excite ridicule. I seem to hear the
+laughter now. No, my dear Souspennier, you would bargain for me with
+Lucille. Look below. Are we likely to part with her just yet?"
+
+In a corner, behind a gigantic palm, Lucille and Brott were talking
+together. Lady Carey had drawn Opperman a little distance away. Brott
+was talking eagerly, his cheeks flushed, his manner earnest. Mr. Sabin
+turned upon his heel and walked away.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII
+
+Mr. Sabin, although he had registered at the hotel under his accustomed
+pseudonym, had taken no pains to conceal his identity, and was well
+known to the people in authority about the place. He was received with
+all the respect due to his rank.
+
+"Your Grace will, I trust, accept my most sincere apologies for
+disturbing you," Mr. Hertz, the manager, said, rising and bowing at his
+entrance. "We have here, however, an emissary connected with the police
+come to inquire into the sad incident of this afternoon. He expressed a
+wish to ask your Grace a question or two with a view to rendering your
+Grace's attendance at the inquest unnecessary."
+
+Mr. Sabin nodded.
+
+"I am perfectly willing," he said, "to answer any questions you may
+choose to put to me."
+
+A plain, hard-featured little man, in a long black overcoat, and holding
+a bowler hat in his hand, bowed respectfully to Mr. Sabin.
+
+"I am much obliged to you, sir," he said. "My name is John Passmore.
+We do not of course appear in this matter unless the post-mortem should
+indicate anything unusual in the circumstances of Duson's death, but it
+is always well to be prepared, and I ventured to ask Mr. Hertz here to
+procure for me your opinion as regards the death of your servant."
+
+"You have asked me," Mr. Sabin said gravely, "a very difficult
+question."
+
+The eyes of the little detective flashed keenly.
+
+"You do not believe then, sir, that he died a natural death?"
+
+"I do not," Mr. Sabin answered.
+
+Mr. Hertz was startled. The detective controlled his features admirably.
+
+"May I ask your reasons, sir?"
+
+Mr. Sabin lightly shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"I have never known the man to have a day's illness in his life," he
+said. "Further, since his arrival in England he has been acting in a
+strange and furtive manner, and I gathered that he had some cause for
+fear which he was indisposed to talk about."
+
+"This," the detective said, "is very interesting."
+
+"Doubtless," Mr. Sabin answered. "But before I say anything more I
+must clearly understand my position. I am giving you personally a few
+friendly hints, in the interests of justice perhaps, but still quite
+informally. I am not in possession of any definite facts concerning
+Duson, and what I say to you here I am not prepared to say at the
+inquest, before which I presume I may have to appear as a witness.
+There, I shall do nothing more save identify Duson and state the
+circumstances under which I found him."
+
+"I understand that perfectly, sir," the man answered. "The less said at
+the inquest the better in the interests of justice."
+
+Mr. Sabin nodded.
+
+"I am glad," he said, "that you appreciate that. I do not mind going so
+far then as to tell you that I believe Duson died of poison."
+
+"Can you give me any idea," the detective asked, "as to the source?"
+
+"None," Mr. Sabin answered. "That you must discover for yourselves.
+Duson was a man of silent and secretive habits, and it has occurred to
+me more than once that he might possibly be a member of one of those
+foreign societies who have their headquarters in Soho, and concerning
+which you probably know more than I do."
+
+The detective smiled. It was a very slight flicker of the lips, but it
+attracted Mr. Sabin's keen attention.
+
+"Your suggestions," the detective said, "are making this case a very
+interesting one. I have always understood, however, that reprisals of
+this extreme nature are seldom resorted to in this country. Besides,
+the man's position seems scarcely to indicate sufficient
+importance--perhaps--"
+
+"Well?" Mr. Sabin interjected.
+
+"I notice that Duson was found in your sitting-room. It occurs to me
+as a possibility that he may have met with a fate intended for some one
+else--for yourself, for instance, sir!"
+
+"But I," Mr. Sabin said smoothly, "am a member of no secret society,
+nor am I conscious of having enemies sufficiently venomous to desire my
+life."
+
+The detective sat for a moment with immovable face.
+
+"We, all of us, know our friends, sir," he said. "There are few of us
+properly acquainted with our enemies."
+
+Mr. Sabin lit a cigarette. His fingers were quite steady, but this man
+was making him think.
+
+"You do not seriously believe," he asked, "that Duson met with a death
+which was intended for me?"
+
+"I am afraid," the detective said thoughtfully, "that I know no more
+about it than you do."
+
+"I see," Mr. Sabin said, "that I am no stranger to you."
+
+"You are very far from being that, sir," the man answered. "A few years
+ago I was working for the Government--and you were not often out of my
+sight."
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled.
+
+"It was perhaps judicious," he remarked, "though I am afraid it proved
+of very little profit to you. And what about the present time?"
+
+"I see no harm in telling you, sir, that a general watch is kept upon
+your movements. Duson was useful to us... but now Duson is dead."
+
+"It is a fact," Mr. Sabin said impressively, "that Duson was a genius.
+My admiration for him continually increases."
+
+"Duson made harmless reports to us as we desired them," the detective
+said. "I have an idea, however, that if this course had at any time been
+inimical to your interests that Duson would have deceived us."
+
+"I am convinced of it," Mr. Sabin declared.
+
+"And Duson is dead!"
+
+Mr. Sabin nodded gravely.
+
+The little hard-visaged man looked steadily for a moment upon the
+carpet.
+
+"Duson died virtually whilst accepting pay from if not actually in the
+employ of our Secret Service Department. You will understand, therefore,
+that we, knowing of this complication in his life, naturally incline
+towards the theory of murder. Shall I be taking a liberty, sir, if I
+give you an unprofessional word of warning?"
+
+Mr. Sabin raised his eyebrows.
+
+"By no means," he answered. "But surely you cannot--"
+
+The man smiled.
+
+"No, sir," he said drily. "I do not for one moment suspect you. The man
+was our spy upon your movements, but I am perfectly aware that there has
+been nothing worth reporting, and I also know that you would never run
+such a risk for the removal of so insignificant a person. No, my warning
+comes to you from a different point of view. It is, if you will pardon
+my saying so, none the less personal, but wholly friendly. The case of
+Duson will be sifted to the dregs, but unless I am greatly mistaken,
+and I do not see room for the possibility of a mistake, I know the truth
+already."
+
+"You will share your knowledge?" Mr. Sabin asked quietly.
+
+The detective shook his head.
+
+"You shall know," he said, "before the last moment. But I want to warn
+you that when you do know it--it will be a shock to you."
+
+Mr. Sabin stood perfectly still for several moments. This little man
+believed what he was saying. He was certainly deceived. Yet none the
+less Mr. Sabin was thoughtful.
+
+"You do not feel inclined," he said slowly, "to give me your entire
+confidence."
+
+"Not at present, sir," the man answered. "You would certainly intervene,
+and my case would be spoilt."
+
+Mr. Sabin glanced at the clock.
+
+"If you care to call on me to-morrow," he said, "I could perhaps show
+you something which might change your opinion."
+
+The detective bowed.
+
+"I am always open, sir," he said, "to conviction. I will come about
+twelve o'clock."
+
+Mr. Sabin went back to the palm lounge. Lucille and Reginald Brott were
+sitting together at a small table, talking earnestly to one another.
+The Prince and Lady Carey had joined another party who were all talking
+together near the entrance. The latter, directly she saw them coming,
+detached herself from them and came to him.
+
+"Your coffee is almost cold," she said, "but the Prince has found some
+brandy of wonderful age, somewhere in the last century, I believe."
+
+Mr. Sabin glanced towards Lucille. She appeared engrossed in her
+conversation, and had not noticed his approach. Lady Carey shrugged.
+
+"You have only a few minutes," she said, "before that dreadful person
+comes and frowns us all out. I have kept you a chair."
+
+Mr. Sabin sat down. Lady Carey interposed herself between him and the
+small table at which Lucille was sitting.
+
+"Have they discovered anything?" she asked.
+
+"Nothing!" Mr. Sabin answered.
+
+She played with her fan for a moment. Then she looked him steadily in
+the face.
+
+"My friend?"
+
+He glanced towards her.
+
+"Lady Carey!"
+
+"Why are you so obstinate?" she exclaimed in a low, passionate whisper.
+"I want to be your friend, and I could be very useful to you. Yet you
+keep me always at arm's length. You are making a mistake. Indeed you
+are. I suppose you do not trust me. Yet reflect. Have I ever told you
+anything that was not true? Have I ever tried to deceive you? I don't
+pretend to be a paragon of the virtues. I live my life to please myself.
+I admit it. Why not? It is simply applying the same sort of philosophy
+to my life as you have applied to yours. My enemies can find plenty to
+say about me--but never that I have been false to a friend. Why do you
+keep me always at arm's length, as though I were one of those who wished
+you evil?"
+
+"Lady Carey," Mr. Sabin said, "I will not affect to misunderstand
+you, and I am flattered that you should consider my good will of any
+importance. But you are the friend of the Prince of Saxe Leinitzer. You
+are one of those even now who are working actively against me. I am not
+blaming you, but we are on opposite sides."
+
+Lady Carey looked for a moment across at the Prince, and her eyes were
+full of venom.
+
+"If you knew," she murmured, "how I loathe that man. Friends! That is
+all long since past. Nothing would give me so much pleasure as never to
+see his face again."
+
+"Nevertheless," Mr. Sabin reminded her, "whatever your private feelings
+may be, he has claims upon you which you cannot resist."
+
+"There is one thing in the world," she said in a low tone, "for which I
+would risk even the abnegation of those claims."
+
+"You would perjure your honour?"
+
+"Yes--if it came to that."
+
+Mr. Sabin moved uneasily in his chair. The woman was in earnest. She
+offered him an invaluable alliance; she could show him the way to
+hold his own against even the inimical combination by which he was
+surrounded. If only he could compromise. But her eyes were seeking his
+eagerly, even fiercely.
+
+"You doubt me still," she whispered. "And I thought that you had genius.
+Listen, I will prove myself. The Prince has one of his foolish passions
+for Lucille. You know that. So far she has shown herself able to resist
+his fascinations. He is trying other means. Lucille is in danger!
+Duson!--but after all, I was never really in danger, except the time
+when I carried the despatches for the colonel and rode straight into a
+Boer ambush."
+
+Mr. Sabin saw nothing, but he did not move a muscle of his face. A
+moment later they heard the Prince's voice from behind them.
+
+"I am very sorry," he said, "to interrupt these interesting
+reminiscences, but you see that every one is going. Lucille is already
+in the cloak-room."
+
+Lady Carey rose at once, but the glance she threw at the Prince was a
+singularly malicious one. They walked down the carpeted way together,
+and Lady Carey left them without a word. In the vestibule Mr. Sabin and
+Reginald Brott came face to face.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII
+
+The greeting between the two men was cold, and the Prince almost
+immediately stepped between them. Nevertheless, Brott seemed to have a
+fancy to talk with Mr. Sabin.
+
+"I was at Camperdown House yesterday," he remarked. "Her Ladyship was
+regretting that she saw you so seldom."
+
+"I have been a little remiss," Mr. Sabin answered. "I hope to lunch
+there to-morrow."
+
+"You have seen the evening paper, Brott?" the Prince asked.
+
+"I saw the early editions," Brott answered. "Is there anything fresh?"
+
+The Prince dropped his voice a little. He drew Brott on one side.
+
+"The Westminster declared that you had left for Windsor by an early
+train this afternoon, and gives a list of your Cabinet. The Pall Mall,
+on the other hand, declares that Letheringham will assuredly be sent for
+to-morrow."
+
+Brott shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"There are bound to be a crop of such reports at a time like this," he
+remarked.
+
+The Prince dropped his voice almost to a whisper.
+
+"Brott," he said, "there is something which I have had it in my mind to
+say to you for the last few days. I am not perhaps a great politician,
+but, like many outsiders, I see perhaps a good deal of the game. I know
+fairly well what the feeling is in Vienna and Berlin. I can give you a
+word of advice."
+
+"You are very kind, Prince," Brott remarked, looking uneasily over his
+shoulder. "But--"
+
+"It is concerning Brand. There is no man more despised and disliked
+abroad, not only because he is a Jew and ill-bred, but because of his
+known sympathy with some of these anarchists who are perfect firebrands
+in Europe."
+
+"I am exceedingly obliged to you," Brott answered hurriedly. "I am
+afraid, however, that you anticipate matters a good deal. I have not yet
+been asked to form a Cabinet. It is doubtful whether I ever shall. And,
+beyond that, it is also doubtful whether even if I am asked I shall
+accept."
+
+"I must confess," the Prince said, "that you puzzle me. Every one says
+that the Premiership of the country is within your reach. It is surely
+the Mecca of all politicians."
+
+"There are complications," Brott muttered. "You--"
+
+He stopped short and moved towards the door. Lucille, unusually pale
+and grave, had just issued from the ladies' ante-room, and joined Lady
+Carey, who was talking to Mr. Sabin. She touched the latter lightly on
+the arm.
+
+"Help us to escape," she said quickly. "I am weary of my task. Can we
+get away without their seeing us?"
+
+Mr. Sabin offered his arm. They passed along the broad way, and as
+they were almost the last to leave the place, their carriage was easily
+found. The Prince and Mr. Brott appeared only in time to see Mr. Sabin
+turning away, hat in hand, from the curb-stone. Brott's face darkened.
+
+"Prince," he said, "who is that man?"
+
+The Prince shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"A man," he said, "who has more than once nearly ruined your country.
+His life has been a splendid failure. He would have given India to the
+Russians, but they mistrusted him and trifled away their chance. Once
+since then he nearly sold this country to Germany; it was a trifle only
+which intervened. He has been all his life devoted to one cause."
+
+"And that?" Brott asked.
+
+"The restoration of the monarchy to France. He, as you of course know,
+is the Duc de Souspennier, the sole living member in the direct line of
+one of the most ancient and historical houses in England. My friend,"
+he added, turning to Mr. Sabin, "you have stolen a march upon us. We had
+not even an opportunity of making our adieux to the ladies."
+
+"I imagine," Mr. Sabin answered, "that the cause of quarrel may rest
+with them. You were nowhere in sight when they came out."
+
+"These fascinating politics," the Prince remarked. "We all want to talk
+politics to Mr. Brott just now."
+
+"I will wish you good-night, gentlemen," Mr. Sabin said, and passed into
+the hotel.
+
+The Prince touched Brott on the arm.
+
+"Will you come round to the club, and take a hand at bridge?" he said.
+
+Brott laughed shortly.
+
+"I imagine," he said, "that I should be an embarrassing guest to you
+just now at, say the Mallborough, or even at the St. James. I believe
+the aristocracy are looking forward to the possibility of my coming into
+power with something like terror."
+
+"I am not thoroughly versed; in the politics of this country," the
+Prince said, "but I have always understood that your views were
+very much advanced. Dorset solemnly believes that you are pledged to
+exterminate the large landed proprietors, and I do not think he would be
+surprised to hear that you had a guillotine up your sleeve."
+
+The two men were strolling along Pall Mall. The Prince had lit a large
+cigar, and was apparently on the best of terms with himself and the
+world in general. Brott, on the contrary, was most unlike himself,
+preoccupied, and apparently ill at ease.
+
+"The Duke and his class are, of course, my natural opponents," Brott
+said shortly. "By the bye, Prince," he added, suddenly turning towards
+him, and with a complete change of tone, "it is within your power to do
+me a favour."
+
+"You have only to command," the Prince assured him good-naturedly.
+
+"My rooms are close here," Brott continued. "Will you accompany me
+there, and grant me the favour of a few minutes' conversation?"
+
+"Assuredly!" the Prince answered, flicking the end off his cigar. "It
+will be a pleasure."
+
+They walked on towards their destination in silence. Brott's secretary
+was in the library with a huge pile of letters and telegrams before him.
+He welcomed Brott with relief.
+
+"We have been sending all over London for you, sir," he said.
+
+Brott nodded.
+
+"I am better out of the way for the present," he answered. "Deny me to
+everybody for an hour, especially Letheringham. There is nothing here, I
+suppose, which cannot wait so long as that?"
+
+The secretary looked a little doubtful.
+
+"I think not, sir," he decided.
+
+"Very good. Go and get something to eat. You look fagged. And tell Hyson
+to bring up some liqueurs, will you! I shall be engaged for a short
+time."
+
+The secretary withdrew. A servant appeared with a little tray of
+liqueurs, and in obedience to an impatient gesture from his master, left
+them upon the table. Brott closed the door firmly.
+
+"Prince," he said, resuming his seat, "I wished to speak with you
+concerning the Countess."
+
+Saxe Leinitzer nodded.
+
+"All right," he said. "I am listening!"
+
+"I understand," Brott continued, "that you are one of her oldest
+friends, and also one of the trustees of her estates. I presume that you
+stand to her therefore to some extent in the position of an adviser?"
+
+"It is perfectly true," the Prince admitted.
+
+"I, too, am an old friend, as she has doubtless told you," Brott said.
+"All my life she has been the one woman whom I have desired to call my
+wife. That desire has never been so strong as at the present moment."
+
+The Prince removed his cigar from his mouth and looked grave.
+
+"But, my dear Brott," he said, "have you considered the enormous gulf
+between your--views? The Countess owns great hereditary estates, she
+comes from a family which is almost Royal, she herself is an aristocrat
+to the backbone. It is a class against which you have declared war. How
+can you possibly come together on common ground?"
+
+Brott was silent for a moment. Looking at him steadily the Prince was
+surprised at the change in the man's appearance. His cheeks seemed
+blanched and his skin drawn. He had lost flesh, his eyes were hollow,
+and he frequently betrayed in small mannerisms a nervousness wholly new
+and unfamiliar to him.
+
+"You speak as a man of sense, Prince," he said after a while. "You are
+absolutely correct. This matter has caused me a great deal of anxious
+thought. To falter at this moment is to lose, politically, all that I
+have worked for all my life. It is to lose the confidence of the
+people who have trusted me. It is a betrayal, the thought of which is
+a constant shame to me. But, on the other hand, Lucille is the dearest
+thing to me in life."
+
+The Prince's expression was wholly sympathetic. The derision which
+lurked behind he kept wholly concealed. A strong man so abjectly in the
+toils, and he to be chosen for his confidant! It was melodrama with a
+dash of humour.
+
+"If I am to help you," the Prince said, "I must know everything. Have
+you made any proposals to Lucille? In plain words, how much of your
+political future are you disposed to sacrifice?"
+
+"All!" Brott said hoarsely. "All for a certainty of her. Not one jot
+without."
+
+"And she?"
+
+Brott sprang to his feet, white and nervous.
+
+"It is where I am at fault," he exclaimed. "It is why I have asked for
+your advice, your help perhaps. I do not find it easy to understand
+Lucille. Perhaps it is because I am not well versed in the ways of her
+sex. I find her elusive. She will give me no promise. Before I went
+to Glasgow I talked with her. If she would have married me then my
+political career was over--thrown on one side like an old garment. But
+she would give me no promise. In everything save the spoken words I
+crave she has promised me her love. Again there comes a climax. In a few
+hours I must make my final choice. I must decline to join Letheringham,
+in which case the King must send for me, or accept office with him,
+and throw away the one great chance of this generation. Letheringham's
+Cabinet, of course, would be a moderate Liberal one, a paragon of milk
+and water in effectiveness. If I go in alone we make history. The moment
+of issue has come. And, Prince, although I have pleaded with all the
+force and all the earnestness I know, Lucille remains elusive. If I
+choose for her side--she promises me--reward. But it is vague to me. I
+don't, I can't understand! I want her for my wife, I want her for the
+rest of my life--nothing else. Tell me, is there any barrier to this?
+There are no complications in her life which I do not know of? I want
+your assurance. I want her promise. You understand me?"
+
+"Yes, I understand you," the Prince said gravely. "I understand more
+than you do. I understand Lucille's position."
+
+Brott leaned forward with bright eyes.
+
+"Ah!"
+
+"Lucille, the Countess of Radantz, is at the present moment a married
+woman."
+
+Brott was speechless. His face was like a carved stone image, from which
+the life had wholly gone.
+
+"Her husband--in name only, let me tell you, is the Mr. Sabin with whom
+we had supper this evening."
+
+"Great God!"
+
+"Their marriage had strange features in it which are not my concern, or
+even yours," the Prince said deliberately. "The truth is, that they have
+not lived together for years, they never will again, for their divorce
+proceedings would long ago have been concluded but for the complications
+arising from the difference between the Hungarian and the American laws.
+Here, without doubt, is the reason why the Countess has hesitated to
+pledge her word directly."
+
+"It is wonderful," Brott said slowly. "But it explains everything."
+
+There was a loud knock at the door. The secretary appeared upon the
+threshold. Behind him was a tall, slim young man in traveling costume.
+
+"The King's messenger!" Brott exclaimed, rising to his feet.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIV
+
+The Prince presented himself with a low bow. Lucille had a copy of the
+morning paper in her hand.
+
+"I congratulate you, Countess," he said. "You progress admirably. It is
+a great step gained."
+
+Lucille, who was looking pale and nervous, regarded him with anxiety.
+
+"A step! But it is everything. If these rumours are true, he refuses
+the attempt to form a Cabinet. He takes a subordinate position under
+Letheringham. Every paper this morning says that if this is so his
+political career is over. It is true, is it not?"
+
+"It is a great gain," the Prince said slowly.
+
+"But it is everything," Lucille declared, with a rising note of passion
+in her tone. "It was my task. It is accomplished. I demand my release."
+
+The Prince was silent for a moment.
+
+"You are in a great hurry, Lucille," he said.
+
+"What if I am!" she replied fiercely. "Do you suppose that this life of
+lies and deceit is pleasant to me? Do you suppose that it is a pleasant
+task to lure a brave man on to his ruin?"
+
+The Prince raised his eyebrows.
+
+"Come," he said, "you can have no sympathy with Reginald Brott, the
+sworn enemy of our class, a Socialist, a demagogue who would parcel out
+our lands in allotments, a man who has pledged himself to nothing more
+nor less than a revolution."
+
+"The man's views are hateful enough," she answered, "but he is in
+earnest, and however misguided he may be there is something noble in his
+unselfishness, in his, steady fixedness of purpose."
+
+The Prince's face indicated his contempt.
+
+"Such men," he declared, "are only fit to be crushed like vermin under
+foot. In any other country save England we should have dealt with him
+differently."
+
+"This is all beside the question," she declared. "My task was to prevent
+his becoming Prime Minister, and I have succeeded."
+
+The Prince gave vent to a little gesture of dissent. "Your task," he
+said, "went a little farther than that. We require his political ruin."
+
+She pointed to the pile of newspapers upon the table.
+
+"Read what they say!" she exclaimed. "There is not one who does not use
+that precise term. He has missed his opportunity. The people will never
+trust him again."
+
+"That, at any rate, is not certain," the Prince said. "You must remember
+that before long he will realise that he has been your tool. What
+then? He will become more rabid than ever, more also to be feared. No,
+Lucille, your task is not yet over. He must be involved in an open and
+public scandal, and with you."
+
+She was white almost to the lips with passion.
+
+"You expect a great deal!" she exclaimed. "You expect me to ruin my
+life, then, to give my honour as well as these weary months, this
+constant humiliation."
+
+"You are pleased to be melodramatic," he said coldly. "It is quite
+possible to involve him without actually going to extremes."
+
+"And what of my husband?" she asked.
+
+The Prince laughed unpleasantly.
+
+"If you have not taught him complaisance," he said, "it is possible, of
+course, that Mr. Sabin might be unkind. But what of it? You are your
+own mistress. You are a woman of the world. Without him there is an
+infinitely greater future before you than as his wife you could ever
+enjoy."
+
+"You are pleased," she said, "to be enigmatic."
+
+The Prince looked hard at her. Her face was white and set. He sighed.
+
+"Lucille," he said, "I have been very patient for many years. Yet you
+know very well my secret, and in your heart you know very well that I am
+one of those who generally win the thing upon which they have set their
+hearts. I have always loved you, Lucille, but never more than now.
+Fidelity is admirable, but surely you have done your duty. He is an old
+man, and a man who has failed in the great things of life. I, on the
+other hand, can offer you a great future. Saxe Leinitzer, as you know,
+is a kingdom of its own, and, Lucille, I stand well with the Emperor.
+The Socialist party in Berlin are strong and increasing. He needs us.
+Who can say what honours may not be in store for us? For I, too, am of
+the Royal House, Lucille. I am his kinsman. He never forgets that. Come,
+throw aside this restlessness. I will tell you how to deal with Brott,
+and the publicity, after all, will be nothing. We will go abroad
+directly afterwards."
+
+"Have you finished?" she asked.
+
+"You will be reasonable!" he begged.
+
+"Reasonable!" She turned upon him with flashing eyes. "I wonder how
+you ever dared to imagine that I could tolerate you for one moment as a
+lover or a husband. Wipe it out of your mind once and for all. You are
+repellent to me. Positively the only wish I have in connection with
+you is never to see your face again. As for my duty, I have done it. My
+conscience is clear. I shall leave this house to-day."
+
+"I hope," the Prince said softly, "that you will do nothing rash!"
+
+"In an hour," she said, "I shall be at the Carlton with my husband. I
+will trust to him to protect me from you."
+
+The Prince shook his head.
+
+"You talk rashly," he said. "You do not think. You are forbidden to
+leave this house. You are forbidden to join your husband."
+
+She laughed scornfully, but underneath was a tremor of uneasiness.
+
+"You summoned me from America," she said, "and I came... I was forced to
+leave my husband without even a word of farewell. I did it! You set me
+a task--I have accomplished it. I claim that I have kept my bond, that
+I have worked out my own freedom. If you require more of me, I say that
+you are overstepping your authority, and I refuse. Set the black cross
+against my name if you will. I will take the risk."
+
+The Prince came a little nearer to her. She held her own bravely enough,
+but there was a look in his face which terrified her.
+
+"Lucille," he said, "you force me to disclose something which I have
+kept so far to myself. I wished to spare you anxiety, but you must
+understand that your safety depends upon your remaining in this house,
+and in keeping apart from all association with--your husband."
+
+"You will find it difficult," she said, "to convince me of that."
+
+"On the contrary," he said, "I shall find it easy--too easy, believe me.
+You will remember my finding you at the wine-shop of Emil Sachs?"
+
+"Yes!"
+
+"You refused to tell me the object of your visit. It was foolish, for
+of course I was informed. You procured from Emil a small quantity of the
+powder prepared according to the recipe of Herr Estentrauzen, and for
+which we paid him ten thousand marks. It is the most silent, the most
+secret, the most swift poison yet discovered."
+
+"I got it for myself," she said coldly. "There have been times when I
+have felt that the possession of something of that sort was an absolute
+necessity."
+
+"I do not question you as to the reason for your getting it," he
+answered. "Very shortly afterwards you left your carriage in Pall Mall,
+and without even asking for your husband you called at his hotel--you
+stole up into his room."
+
+"I took some roses there and left them," she said "What of that?"
+
+"Only that you were the last person seen to enter Mr. Sabin's rooms
+before Duson was found there dead. And Duson died from a dose of that
+same poison, a packet of which you procured secretly from Emil Sachs. An
+empty wineglass was by his side--it was one generally used by Mr. Sabin.
+I know that the English police, who are not so foolish as people would
+have one believe, are searching now for the woman who was seen to enter
+the sitting-room shortly before Mr. Sabin returned and found Duson there
+dead."
+
+She laughed scornfully.
+
+"It is ingenious," she admitted, "and perhaps a little unfortunate for
+me. But the inference is ridiculous. What interest had I in the man's
+death?"
+
+"None, of course!" the Prince said. "But, Lucille, in all cases of
+poisoning it is the wife of whom one first thinks!"
+
+"The wife? I did not even know that the creature had a wife."
+
+"Of course not! But Duson drank from Mr. Sabin's glass, and you are
+Mr. Sabin's wife. You are living apart from him. He is old and you are
+young. And for the other man--there is Reginald Brott. Your names have
+been coupled together, of course. See what an excellent case stands
+there. You procure the poison--secretly. You make your way to your
+husband's room--secretly. The fatal dose is taken from your husband's
+wineglass. You leave no note, no message. The poison of which the man
+died is exactly the same as you procured from Sachs. Lucille, after all,
+do you wonder that the police are looking for a woman in black with an
+ermine toque? What a mercy you wore a thick veil!"
+
+She sat down suddenly.
+
+"This is hideous," she said.
+
+"Think it over," he said, "step by step. It is wonderful how all the
+incidents dovetail into one another."
+
+"Too wonderful," she cried. "It sounds like some vile plot to
+incriminate me. How much had you to do with this, Prince?"
+
+"Don't be a fool!" he answered roughly. "Can't you see for yourself that
+your arrest would be the most terrible thing that could happen for us?
+Even Sachs might break down in cross-examination, and you--well, you
+are a woman, and you want to live. We should all be in the most deadly
+peril. Lucille, I would have spared you this anxiety if I could, but
+your defiance made it necessary. There was no other way of getting you
+away from England to-night except by telling you the truth."
+
+"Away from England to-night," she repeated vaguely. "But I will not go.
+It is impossible."
+
+"It is imperative," the Prince declared, with a sharp ring of authority
+in his tone. "It is your own folly, for which you have to pay. You went
+secretly to Emil Sachs. You paid surreptitious visits to your husband,
+which were simply madness. You have involved us all in danger. For our
+own sakes we must see that you are removed."
+
+"It is the very thing to excite suspicion--flight abroad," she objected.
+
+"Your flight," he said coolly, "will be looked upon from a different
+point of view, for Reginald Brott must follow you. It will be an
+elopement, not a flight from justice."
+
+"And in case I should decline?" Lucille asked quietly.
+
+The Prince shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"Well, we have done the best we can for ourselves," he said. "Come, I
+will be frank with you. There are great interests involved here, and,
+before all things, I have had to consider the welfare of our friends.
+That is my duty! Emil Sachs by this time is beyond risk of detection.
+He has left behind a letter, in which he confesses that he has for
+some time supplemented the profits of his wine-shop by selling secretly
+certain deadly poisons of his own concoctions. Alarmed at reading of the
+death of Duson immediately after he had sold a poison which the symptoms
+denoted he had fled the country. That letter is in the hands of the
+woman who remains in the wine-shop, and will only be used in case of
+necessity. By other means we have dissociated ourselves from Duson and
+all connection with him. I think I could go so far as to say that it
+would be impossible to implicate us. Our sole anxiety now, therefore, is
+to save you."
+
+Lucille rose to her feet.
+
+"I shall go at once to my husband," she said. "I shall tell him
+everything. I shall act on his advice."
+
+The Prince stood over by the door, and she heard the key turn.
+
+"You will do nothing of the sort," he said quietly. "You are in my power
+at last, Lucille. You will do my bidding, or--"
+
+"Or what?"
+
+"I shall myself send for the police and give you into custody!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXV
+
+The Prince crossed the hall and entered the morning-room. Felix was
+there and Raoul de Brouillac. The Duchess sat at her writing-table,
+scribbling a note. Lady Carey, in a wonderful white serge costume, and
+a huge bunch of Neapolitan violets at her bosom, was lounging in an
+easy-chair, swinging her foot backwards and forwards. The Duke, in a
+very old tweed coat, but immaculate as to linen and the details of
+his toilet, stood a little apart, with a frown upon his forehead, and
+exactly that absorbed air which in the House of Lords usually indicated
+his intention to make a speech. The entrance of the Prince, who
+carefully closed the door behind him, was an event for which evidently
+they were all waiting.
+
+"My good people," he said blandly, "I wish you all a very good-morning."
+
+There was a little murmur of greetings, and before they had all subsided
+the Duke spoke.
+
+"Saxe Leinitzer," he said, "I have a few questions to ask you."
+
+The Prince looked across the room at him.
+
+"By all means, Duke," he said. "But is the present an opportune time?"
+
+"Opportune or no, it is the time which I have selected," the Duke
+answered stiffly. "I do not altogether understand what is going on in
+this house. I am beginning to wonder whether I have been misled."
+
+The Prince, as he twirled his fair moustache, glanced carelessly enough
+across at the Duchess. She was looking the other way.
+
+"I became a--er--general member of this Society," the Duke continued,
+"sympathising heartily with its objects as explained to me by you,
+Prince, and believing, although to confess it is somewhat of a
+humiliation, that a certain amount of--er--combination amongst the
+aristocracy has become necessary to resist the terrible increase of
+Socialism which we must all so much deplore."
+
+"You are not making a speech, dear," the Duchess remarked, looking
+coldly across the room at him. "We are all anxious to hear what the
+Prince has to say to us."
+
+"Your anxiety," the Duke continued, "and the anxiety of our friends must
+be restrained for a few minutes, for there are certain things which I
+am determined to say, and to say them now. I must confess that it was
+at first a painful shock to me to realise that the time had come when it
+was necessary for us to take any heed of the uneducated rabble who seem
+born into the world discontented with their station in life, and instead
+of making honest attempts to improve it waste their time railing against
+us who are more fortunately placed, and in endeavours to mislead in
+every possible way the electorate of the country."
+
+The Prince sighed softly, and lit a cigarette. Lady Carey and Felix were
+already smoking.
+
+"However," the Duke continued, "I was convinced. I have always believed
+in the principle of watching closely the various signs of the times,
+and I may say that I came to the conclusion that a combination of the
+thinking members of the aristocratic party throughout the world was an
+excellent idea. I therefore became what is, I believe, called a general
+member of the Order, of which I believe you, Prince, are the actual
+head."
+
+"My dear James," the Duchess murmured, "the Prince has something to say
+to us."
+
+"The Prince," her husband answered coldly, "can keep back his
+information for a few minutes. I am determined to place my position
+clearly before all of you who are present here now. It is only since I
+have joined this Society that I have been made aware that in addition to
+the general members, of which body I believe that the Duchess and I are
+the sole representatives here, there are special members, and members of
+the inner circle. And I understand that in connection with these there
+is a great machinery of intrigue going on all the time, with branches
+all over the world, spies everywhere with unlimited funds, and with huge
+opportunities of good or evil. In effect I have become an outside member
+of what is nothing more nor less than a very powerful and, it seems to
+me, daring secret society."
+
+"So far as you are concerned, Duke," the Prince said, "your
+responsibility ceases with ordinary membership. You can take no count of
+anything beyond. The time may come when the inner circle may be opened
+to you."
+
+The Duke coughed.
+
+"You misapprehend me," he said. "I can assure you I am not anxious for
+promotion. On the contrary, I stand before you an aggrieved person. I
+have come to the conclusion that my house, and the shelter of my wife's
+name, have been used for a plot, the main points of which have been kept
+wholly secret from me."
+
+The Prince flicked his cigarette ash into the grate.
+
+"My dear Dorset," he said gently, "if you will allow me to explain--"
+
+"I thank you, Saxe Leinitzer," the Duke said coldly, "but it is
+beginning to occur to me that I have had enough of your explanations.
+It seemed natural enough to me, and I must say well conceived, that some
+attempt should be made to modify the views of, if not wholly convert,
+Reginald Brott by means of the influence of a very charming woman. It
+was my duty as a member of the Order to assist in this, and the shelter
+of my house and name were freely accorded to the Countess. But it is
+news to me to find that she was brought here practically by force.
+That because she was an inner member and therefore bound to implicit
+obedience that she was dragged away from her husband, kept apart from
+him against her will, forced into endeavours to make a fool of Brott
+even at the cost of her good name. And now, worst of all, I am told that
+a very deeply laid plot on the part of some of you will compel her
+to leave England almost at once, and that her safety depends upon her
+inducing Reginald Brott to accompany her."
+
+"She has appealed to you," the Prince muttered.
+
+"She has done nothing so sensible," the Duke answered drily. "The facts
+which I have just stated are known to every one in this room. I perhaps
+know less than any one. But I know enough for this. I request, Saxe
+Leinitzer, that you withdraw the name of myself and my wife from your
+list of members, and that you understand clearly that my house is to
+be no more used for meetings of the Society, formal or informal. And,
+further, though I regret the apparent inhospitality of my action, my
+finger is now, as you see, upon the bell, and I venture to wish you all
+a very good-morning. Groves," he added to the servant who answered the
+door, "the Prince of Saxe Leinitzer's carriage is urgently required."
+
+The Prince and Lady Carey descended the broad steps side by side. She
+was laughing softly but immoderately. The Prince was pale with fury.
+
+"Pompous old ass," he muttered savagely. "He may have a worse scandal in
+his house now than he dreams of."
+
+She wiped her eyes.
+
+"Have I not always told you," she said, "that intrigue in this country
+was a sheer impossibility? You may lay your plans ever so carefully, but
+you cannot foresee such a contretemps as this."
+
+"Idiot!" the Prince cried. "Oh, the dolt! Why, even his wife was
+amazed."
+
+"He may be all those pleasant things," Lady Carey, said, "but he is a
+gentleman."
+
+He stopped short. The footman was standing by the side of Lady Carey's
+victoria with a rug on his arm.
+
+"Lucille," he said thoughtfully, "is locked in the morning-room. She is
+prostrate with fear. If the Duke sees her everything is over. Upon
+my word, I have a good mind to throw this all up and cross to Paris
+to-night. Let England breed her own revolutions. What do you say,
+Muriel? Will you come with me?"
+
+She laughed scornfully.
+
+"I'd as soon go with my coachman," she said.
+
+His eyebrows narrowed. A dull, purple flush crept to his forehead.
+
+"Your wit," he said, "is a little coarse. Listen! You wish our first
+plan to go through?"
+
+"Of course!"
+
+"Then you must get Lucille out of that house. If she is left there she
+is absolutely lost to us. Apart from that, she is herself not safe.
+Our plan worked out too well. She is really in danger from this Duson
+affair."
+
+The laughter died away from Lady Carey's face. She hesitated with her
+foot upon the step of her carriage.
+
+"You can go back easily enough," the Prince said. "You are the Duke's
+cousin, and you were not included in his tirade. Lucille is in the
+morning-room, and here is the key. I brought it away with me. You must
+tell her that all our plans are broken, that we have certain knowledge
+that the police are on the track of this Duson affair. Get her to your
+house in Pont Street, and I will be round this afternoon. Or better
+still, take her to mine."
+
+Lady Carey stepped back on to the pavement. She was still, however,
+hesitating.
+
+"Leave her with the Duke and Duchess," the Prince said, "and she will
+dine with her husband to-night."
+
+Lady Carey took the key from his hand.
+
+"I will try," she said. "How shall you know whether I succeed?"
+
+"I will wait in the gardens," he answered. "I shall be out of sight, but
+I shall be able to see you come out. If you are alone I shall come
+to you. If she is with you I shall be at your house in an hour, and I
+promise you that she shall leave England to-night with me."
+
+"Poor Brott!" she murmured ironically.
+
+The Prince smiled.
+
+"He will follow her. Every one will believe that they left London
+together. That is all that is required."
+
+Lady Carey re-entered the house. The Prince made his way into the
+gardens. Ten minutes passed--a quarter of an hour. Then Lady Carey with
+Lucille reappeared, and stepping quickly into the victoria were driven
+away. The Prince drew a little sigh of relief. He looked at his watch,
+called a hansom, and drove to his club for lunch.
+
+Another man, who had also been watching Dorset House from the gardens
+for several hours, also noted Lucille's advent with relief. He followed
+the Prince out and entered another hansom.
+
+"Follow that victoria which has just driven off," he ordered. "Don't
+lose sight of it. Double fare."
+
+The trap-door fell, and the man whipped up his horse.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVI
+
+Mr. Sabin received an early visitor whilst still lingering over a slight
+but elegant breakfast. Passmore seated himself in an easy-chair and
+accepted the cigar which his host himself selected for him.
+
+"I am glad to see you," Mr. Sabin said. "This affair of Duson's remains
+a complete mystery to me. I am looking to you to help me solve it."
+
+The little man with the imperturbable face removed his cigar from his
+mouth and contemplated it steadfastly.
+
+"It is mysterious," he said. "There are circumstances in connection
+with it which even now puzzle me very much, very much indeed. There are
+circumstances in connection with it also which I fear may be a shock to
+you, sir."
+
+"My life," Mr. Sabin said, with a faint smile, "has been made up of
+shocks. A few more or less may not hurt me."
+
+"Duson," the detective said, "was at heart a faithful servant!"
+
+"I believe it," Mr. Sabin said.
+
+"He was much attached to you!"
+
+"I believe it."
+
+"It is possible that unwittingly he died for you."
+
+Mr. Sabin was silent. It was his way of avoiding a confession of
+surprise. And he was surprised. "You believe then," he said, after a
+moment's pause, "that the poison was intended for me?"
+
+"Certainly I do," the detective answered. "Duson was, after all, a
+valet, a person of little importance. There is no one to whom his
+removal could have been of sufficient importance to justify such extreme
+measures. With you it is different."
+
+Mr. Sabin knocked the ash from his cigarette.
+
+"Why not be frank with me, Mr. Passmore?" he said. "There is no need
+to shelter yourself under professional reticence. Your connection with
+Scotland Yard ended, I believe, some time ago. You are free to speak or
+to keep silence. Do one or the other. Tell me what you think, and I will
+tell you what I know. That surely will be a fair exchange. You shall
+have my facts for your surmises."
+
+Passmore's thin lips curled into a smile. "You know that I have left
+Scotland Yard then, sir?"
+
+"Quite well! You are employed by them often, I believe, but you are not
+on the staff, not since the affair of Nerman and the code book."
+
+If Passmore had been capable of reverence, his eyes looked it at that
+moment.
+
+"You knew this last night, sir?"
+
+"Certainly!"
+
+"Five years ago, sir," he said, "I told my chief that in you the
+detective police of the world had lost one who must have been their
+king. More and more you convince me of it. I cannot believe that you are
+ignorant of the salient points concerning Duson's death."
+
+"Treat me as being so, at any rate," Mr. Sabin said.
+
+"I am pardoned," Passmore said, "for speaking plainly of family
+matters--my concern in which is of course purely professional?"
+
+Mr. Sabin looked up for a moment, but he signified his assent.
+
+"You left America," Passmore said, "in search of your wife, formerly
+Countess of Radantz, who had left you unexpectedly."
+
+"It is true!" Mr. Sabin answered.
+
+"Madame la Duchesse on reaching London became the guest of the Duchess
+of Dorset, where she has been staying since. Whilst there she has
+received many visits from Mr. Reginald Brott."
+
+Mr. Sabin's face was as the face of a sphinx. He made no sign.
+
+"You do not waste your time, sir, over the Society papers. Yet you have
+probably heard that Madame la Duchesse and Mr. Reginald Brott have been
+written about and spoken about as intimate friends. They have been seen
+together everywhere. Gossip has been busy with their names. Mr. Brott
+has followed the Countess into circles which before her coming he
+zealously eschewed. The Countess is everywhere regarded as a widow, and
+a marriage has been confidently spoken of."
+
+Mr. Sabin bowed his head slightly. But of expression there was in his
+face no sign.
+
+"These things," Passmore continued, "are common knowledge. I have
+spoken up to now of nothing which is not known to the world. I proceed
+differently."
+
+"Good!" Mr. Sabin said.
+
+"There is," Passmore continued, "in the foreign district of London a
+man named Emil Sachs, who keeps a curious sort of a wine-shop, and
+supplements his earnings by disposing at a high figure of certain rare
+and deadly poisons. A few days ago the Countess visited him and secured
+a small packet of the most deadly drug the man possesses."
+
+Mr. Sabin sat quite still. He was unmoved.
+
+"The Countess," Passmore continued, "shortly afterwards visited these
+rooms. An hour after her departure Duson was dead. He died from drinking
+out of your liqueur glass, into which a few specks of that powder,
+invisible almost to the naked eye, had been dropped. At Dorset House
+Reginald Brott was waiting for her. He left shortly afterwards in a
+state of agitation."
+
+"And from these things," Mr. Sabin said, "you draw, I presume, the
+natural inference that Madame la Duchesse, desiring to marry her old
+admirer, Reginald Brott, first left me in America, and then, since I
+followed her here, attempted to poison me."
+
+"There is," Passmore said, "a good deal of evidence to that effect."
+
+"Here," Mr. Sabin said, handing him Duson's letter, "is some evidence to
+the contrary."
+
+Passmore read the letter carefully.
+
+"You believe this," he asked, "to be genuine?"
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled.
+
+"I am sure of it!" he answered.
+
+"You recognise the handwriting?"
+
+"Certainly!"
+
+"And this came into your possession--how?"
+
+"I found it on the table by Duson's side."
+
+"You intend to produce it at the inquest?"
+
+"I think not," Mr. Sabin answered.
+
+There was a short silence. Passmore was revolving a certain matter in
+his mind--thinking hard. Mr. Sabin was apparently trying to make rings
+of the blue smoke from his cigarette.
+
+"Has it occurred to you," Passmore asked, "to wonder for what reason
+your wife visited these rooms on the morning of Duson's death?"
+
+Mr. Sabin shook his head.
+
+"I cannot say that it has."
+
+"She knew that you were not here," Passmore continued. "She left no
+message. She came closely veiled and departed unrecognised." Mr. Sabin
+nodded.
+
+"There were reasons," he said, "for that. But when you say that she left
+no message you are mistaken."
+
+Passmore nodded.
+
+"Go on," he said.
+
+Mr. Sabin nodded towards a great vase of La France roses upon a side
+table.
+
+"I found these here on my return," he said, "and attached to them the
+card which I believe is still there. Go and look at it."
+
+Passmore rose and bent over the fragrant blossoms. The card still
+remained, and on the back of it, in a delicate feminine handwriting:
+
+                            "For my husband,
+                            "with love from
+                               "Lucille."
+
+
+Mr. Passmore shrugged his shoulders. He had not the vice of obstinacy,
+and he knew when to abandon a theory.
+
+"I am corrected," he said. "In any case, a mystery remains as well worth
+solving. Who are these people at whose instigation Duson was to have
+murdered you--these people whom Duson feared so much that suicide was
+his only alternative to obeying their behests?"
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled faintly.
+
+"Ah, my dear Passmore," he said, "you must not ask me that question.
+I can only answer you in this way. If you wish to make the biggest
+sensation which has ever been created in the criminal world, to render
+yourself immortal, and your fame imperishable--find out! I may not help
+you, I doubt whether you will find any to help you. But if you want
+excitement, the excitement of a dangerous chase after a tremendous
+quarry, take your life in your hands, go in and win."
+
+Passmore's withered little face lit up with a gleam of rare excitement.
+
+"These are your enemies, sir," he said. "They have attempted your life
+once, they may do it again. Assume the offensive yourself. Give me a
+hint."
+
+Mr. Sabin shook his head.
+
+"That I cannot do," he said. "I have saved you from wasting your time on
+a false scent. I have given you something definite to work upon. Further
+than that I can do nothing."
+
+Passmore looked his disappointment, but he knew Mr. Sabin better than to
+argue the matter.
+
+"You will not even produce that letter at the inquest?" he asked.
+
+"Not even that," Mr. Sabin answered.
+
+Passmore rose to his feet.
+
+"You must remember," he said, "that supposing any one else stumbles
+upon the same trail as I have been pursuing, and suspicion is afterwards
+directed towards madame, your not producing that letter at the inquest
+will make it useless as evidence in her favour."
+
+"I have considered all these things," Mr. Sabin said. "I shall deposit
+the letter in a safe place. But its use will never be necessary. You are
+the only man who might have forced me to produce it, and you know the
+truth."
+
+Passmore rose reluctantly.
+
+"I want you," Mr. Sabin said, "to leave me not only your address, but
+the means of finding you at any moment during the next four-and-twenty
+hours. I may have some important work for you."
+
+The man smiled as he tore leaf from his pocketbook and a made a few
+notes.
+
+"I shall be glad to take any commission from you, sir," he said. "To
+tell you the truth, I scarcely thought that you would be content to sit
+down and wait."
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled.
+
+"I think," he said, "that very shortly I can find you plenty to do."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVII
+
+Mr. Sabin a few minutes afterwards ordered his carriage, and was driven
+to Dorset House. He asked for Lucille, but was shown at once into the
+library, where the Duke was awaiting him. Then Mr. Sabin knew that
+something had happened.
+
+The Duke extended his hand solemnly.
+
+"My dear Souspennier," he said, "I am glad to see you. I was in fact on
+the point of despatching a messenger to your hotel."
+
+"I am glad," Mr. Sabin remarked, "that my visit is opportune. To tell
+you the truth, Duke, I am anxious to see my wife."
+
+The Duke coughed.
+
+"I trust," he said, "that you will not for a moment consider me guilty
+of any discourtesy to the Countess, for whom I have a great respect and
+liking. But it has come to my knowledge that the shelter of my roof and
+name were being given to proceedings of which I heartily disapproved.
+I therefore only a few hours ago formally broke off all connection
+with Saxe Leinitzer and his friends, and to put the matter plainly, I
+expelled them from the house."
+
+"I congratulate you heartily, Duke, upon a most sensible proceeding,"
+Mr. Sabin said. "But in the meantime where is my wife?"
+
+"Your wife was not present at the time," the Duke answered, "and I had
+not the slightest intention of including her in the remarks I made.
+Whether she understood this or not I cannot say, but I have since been
+given to understand that she left with them."
+
+"How long ago?" Mr. Sabin asked.
+
+"Several hours, I fear," the Duke answered. "I should like, Souspennier,
+to express to you my regrets that I was ever induced to become connected
+in any way with proceedings which must have caused you a great deal of
+pain. I beg you to accept my apologies."
+
+"I do not blame you, Duke," Mr. Sabin said. "My one desire now is to
+wrest my wife away from this gang. Can you tell me whether she left
+alone or with any of them?"
+
+"I will endeavour to ascertain," the Duke said, ringing the bell.
+
+But before the Duke's somewhat long-winded series of questions had gone
+very far Mr. Sabin grasped the fact that the servants had been tampered
+with. Without wasting any more time he took a somewhat hurried leave
+and drove back to the hotel. One of the hall porters approached him,
+smiling.
+
+"There is a lady waiting for you in your rooms, sir," he announced. "She
+arrived a few minutes ago."
+
+Mr. Sabin rang for the elevator, got out at his floor and walked down
+the corridor, leaning a little more heavily than usual upon his stick.
+If indeed it were Lucille who had braved all and come to him the way
+before them might still be smooth sailing. He would never let her go
+again. He was sure of that. They would leave England--yes, there was
+time still to catch the five o'clock train. He turned the handle of
+his door and entered. A familiar figure rose from the depths of his
+easy-chair. Her hat lay on the table, her jacket was open, one of his
+cigarettes was between her lips. But it was not Lucille.
+
+"Lady Carey!" he said slowly. "This is an unexpected pleasure. Have you
+brought Lucille with you?"
+
+"I am afraid," she answered, "that I have no ropes strong enough."
+
+"You insinuate," he remarked, "that Lucille would be unwilling to come."
+
+"There is no longer any need," she declared, with a hard little laugh,
+"for insinuations. We have all been turned out from Dorset House
+neck and crop. Lucille has accepted the inevitable. She has gone to
+Reginald's Brott's rooms."
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled.
+
+"Indeed. I have just come from Dorset House myself. The Duke has
+supplied me with a highly entertaining account of his sudden awakening.
+The situation must have been humorous."
+
+Her eyes twinkled.
+
+"It was really screamingly funny. The Duke had on his house of Lords
+manner, and we all sat round like a lot of naughty children. If only you
+had been there."
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled. Suddenly she laid her hand upon his arm.
+
+"Victor," she said, "I have come to prove that I am your friend. You do
+not believe that Lucille is with Reginald Brott. It is true! Not only
+that, but she is leaving England with him to-night. The man's devotion
+is irresistible--he has been gaining on her slowly but surely all the
+time."
+
+"I have noticed," Mr. Sabin remarked calmly, "that he has been
+wonderfully assiduous. I am sure I congratulate him upon his success, if
+he has succeeded."
+
+"You doubt my word of course," she said. "But I have not come here to
+tell you things. I have come to prove them. I presume that what you see
+with your own eyes will be sufficient."
+
+Mr. Sabin shook his head.
+
+"Certainly not," he answered. "I make it a rule to believe nothing that
+I see, and never to trust my ears."
+
+She stamped her foot lightly upon the floor.
+
+"How impossible you are," she exclaimed. "I can tell you by what train
+Lucille and Reginald Brott will leave London to-night. I can tell you
+why Lucille is bound to go."
+
+"Now," Mr. Sabin said, "you are beginning to get interesting."
+
+"Lucille must go--or run the risk of arrest for complicity in the murder
+of Duson."
+
+"Are you serious?" Mr. Sabin asked, with admirably assumed gravity.
+
+"Is it a jesting matter?" she answered fiercely. "Lucille bought poison,
+the same poison which it will be proved that Duson died of. She came
+here, she was the last person to enter your room before Duson was found
+dead. The police are even now searching for her. Escape is her only
+chance."
+
+"Dear me," Mr. Sabin said. "Then it is not only for Brott's sake that
+she is running away."
+
+"What does that matter? She is going, and she is going with him."
+
+"And why," he asked, "do you come to give me warning? I have plenty of
+time to interpose."
+
+"You can try if you will. Lucille is in hiding. She will not see you if
+you go to her. She is determined. Indeed, she has no choice. Lucille is
+a brave woman in many ways, but you know that she fears death. She is in
+a corner. She is forced to go."
+
+"Again," he said, "I feel that I must ask you why do you give me
+warning?"
+
+She came and stood close to him.
+
+"Perhaps," she said earnestly, "I am anxious to earn your gratitude.
+Perhaps, too, I know that no interposition of yours would be of any
+avail."
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled.
+
+"Still," he said, "I do not think that it is wise of you. I might appear
+at the station and forcibly prevent Lucille's departure. After all, she
+is my wife, you know."
+
+She shrugged her shoulders.
+
+"I am not afraid," she said. "You will make inquiries when I have gone,
+and you will find out that I have spoken the truth. If you keep Lucille
+in England you will expose her to a terrible risk. It is not like you to
+be selfish. You will yield to necessity."
+
+"Will you tell me where Lucille is now?" he asked.
+
+"For your own sake and hers, no," she answered. "You also are watched.
+Besides, it is too late. She was with Brott half an hour after the Duke
+turned us out of Dorset House. Don't you understand, Victor--won't you?
+It is too late."
+
+He sat down heavily in his easy-chair. His whole appearance was one of
+absolute dejection.
+
+"So I am to be left alone in my old age," he murmured. "You have your
+revenge now at last. You have come to take it."
+
+She sank on her knees by the side of his chair, and her arms fell upon
+his shoulders.
+
+"How can you think so cruelly of me, Victor," she murmured. "You were
+always a little mistaken in Lucille. She loved you, it is true, but all
+her life she has been fond of change and excitement. She came to Europe
+willingly--long before this Brott would have been her slave save for
+your reappearance. Can't you forget her--for a little while?"
+
+Mr. Sabin sat quite still. Her hair brushed his cheeks, her arms were
+about his neck, her whole attitude was an invitation for his embrace.
+But he sat like a figure of stone, neither repulsing nor encouraging
+her.
+
+"You need not be alone unless you like," she whispered.
+
+"I am an old man," he said slowly, "and this is a hard blow for me to
+bear. I must be sure, absolutely sure that she has gone."
+
+"By this time to-morrow," she murmured, "all the world will know it."
+
+"Come to me then," he said. "I shall need consolation."
+
+Her eyes were bright with triumph. She leaned over him and kissed him on
+the lips. Then she sprang lightly to her feet.
+
+"Wait here for me," she said, "and I will come to you. You shall know,
+Victor, that Lucille is not the only woman in the world who has cared
+for you."
+
+There was a tap at the door. Lady Carey was busy adjusting her hat.
+Passmore entered, and stood hesitating upon the threshold. Mr. Sabin had
+risen to his feet. He took one of her hands and raised it to his lips.
+She gave him a swift, wonderful look and passed out.
+
+Mr. Sabin's manner changed as though by magic. He was at once alert and
+vigorous.
+
+"My dear Passmore," he said, "come to the table. We shall want those
+Continental time-tables and the London A.B.C. You will have to take a
+journey to-night."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVIII
+
+The two women were alone in the morning-room of Lady Carey's house in
+Pont Street. Lucille was walking restlessly up and down twisting her
+handkerchief between her fingers. Lady Carey was watching her, more
+composed, to all outward appearance, but with closely compressed lips,
+and boding gleam in her eyes.
+
+"I think," Lady Carey said, "that you had better see him."
+
+Lucille turned almost fiercely upon her.
+
+"And why?"
+
+"Well, for one thing he will not understand your refusal. He may be
+suspicious."
+
+"What does it matter? I have finished with him. I have done all that I
+pledged myself to. What more can be expected of me? I do not wish to see
+him again."
+
+Lady Carey laughed.
+
+"At least," she said, "I think that the poor man has a right to
+receive his cong� from you. You cannot break with him without a word of
+explanation. Perhaps--you may not find it so easy as it seems."
+
+Lucille swept around.
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+Lady Carey shrugged her shoulders.
+
+"You are in a curious mood, my dear Lucille. What I mean is obvious
+enough. Brott is a strong man and a determined man. I do not think that
+he will enjoy being made a fool of."
+
+Lucille was indifferent.
+
+"At any rate," she said, "I shall not see him. I have quite made up my
+mind about that."
+
+"And why not, Countess?" a deep voice asked from the threshold. "What
+have I done? May I not at least know my fault?"
+
+Lady Carey rose and moved towards the door.
+
+"You shall have it out between yourselves," she declared, looking up,
+and nodding at Brott as she passed. "Don't fight!"
+
+"Muriel!"
+
+The cry was imperative, but Lady Carey had gone. Mr. Brott closed the
+door behind him and confronted Lucille. A brilliant spot of colour
+flared in her pale cheeks.
+
+"But this is a trap!" she exclaimed. "Who sent for you? Why did you
+come?"
+
+He looked at her in surprise.
+
+"Lucille!"
+
+His eyes were full of passionate remonstrance. She looked nervously from
+him towards the door. He intercepted her glance.
+
+"What have I done?" he asked fiercely. "What have I failed to do? Why
+do you look as though I had forced myself upon you? Haven't I the right?
+Don't you wish to see me?"
+
+In Brott's face and tone was all the passionate strenuousness of a great
+crisis. Lucille felt suddenly helpless before the directness of his
+gaze, his storm of questions. In all their former intercourse it had
+been she who by virtue of her sex and his blind love for her had kept
+the upper hand. And now the position was changed. All sorts of feeble
+explanations, of appeals to him, occurred to her dimly, only to
+be rejected by reason of their ridiculous inadequacy. She was
+silent-abjectly silent.
+
+He came a little closer to her, and the strength of the man was manifest
+in his intense self-restraint. His words were measured, his tone quiet.
+Yet both somehow gave evidence of the smouldering fires beneath.
+
+"Lucille," he said, "I find you hard to understand to-day. You have
+made me your slave, you came once more into my life at its most critical
+moment, and for your sake I have betrayed a great trust. My conscience,
+my faith, and although that counts for little, my political career, were
+in the balance against my love for you. You know which conquered. At
+your bidding I have made myself the jest of every man who buys the
+halfpenny paper and calls himself a politician. My friends heap abuse
+upon me, my enemies derision. I cannot hold my position in this new
+Cabinet. I had gone too far for compromise. I wonder if you quite
+understand what has happened?"
+
+"Oh, I have heard too much," she cried. "Spare me the rest."
+
+He continued as though he had not heard her.
+
+"Men who have been my intimate associates for many years, and whose
+friendship was dear to me, cross the road to avoid: meeting me, day by
+day I am besieged with visitors and letters from the suffering people
+to whom my word had been pledged, imploring me for some explanation, for
+one word of denial. Life has become a hell for me, a pestilent, militant
+hell! Yet, Lucille, unless you break faith with me I make no complaint.
+I am content."
+
+"I am very sorry," she said. "I do not think that you have properly
+understood me. I have never made you any promise."
+
+For a moment he lost control of himself. She shrank back at the blaze
+of indignation, half scornful, half incredulous, which lit up his clear,
+grey eyes.
+
+"It is a lie!" he answered. "Between you and me it can be no question
+of words. You were always very careful of your pledges, but there are
+limits even to your caution--as to my forbearance. A woman does not ask
+a man who is pleading to her for her love to give up everything else
+he cares for in life without hope of reward. It is monstrous! I never
+sought you under false pretenses. I never asked you for your friendship.
+I wanted you. I told you so plainly. You won't deny that you gave me
+hope--encouraged me? You can't even deny that I am within my rights if I
+claim now at this instant the reward for my apostasy."
+
+Her hands were suddenly locked in his. She felt herself being drawn into
+his arms. With a desperate effort she avoided his embrace. He still held
+her left wrist, and his face was dark with passion.
+
+"Let me go!" she pleaded.
+
+"Not I!" he answered, with an odd, choked little laugh. "You belong to
+me. I have paid the price. I, too, am amongst the long list of those
+poor fools who have sold their gods and their honour for a woman's kiss.
+But I will not be left wholly destitute. You shall pay me for what I
+have lost."
+
+"Oh, you are mad!" she answered. "How could you have deceived yourself
+so? Don't you know that my husband is in London?"
+
+"The man who calls himself Mr. Sabin?" he answered roughly. "What has
+that to do with it? You are living apart. Saxe Leinitzer and the Duchess
+have both told me the history of your married life. Or is the whole
+thing a monstrous lie?" he cried, with a sudden dawning sense of the
+truth. "Nonsense! I won't believe it. Lucille! You're not afraid! I
+shall be good to you. You don't doubt that. Sabin will divorce you of
+course. You won't lose your friends. I--"
+
+There was a sudden loud tapping at the door. Brott dropped her wrist
+and turned round with an exclamation of anger. To Lucille it was a
+Heaven-sent interposition. The Prince entered, pale, and with signs of
+hurry and disorder about his usually immaculate person.
+
+"You are both here," he exclaimed. "Good! Lucille, I must speak with you
+urgently in five minutes. Brott, come this way with me."
+
+Lucille sank into a chair with a little murmur of relief. The Prince led
+Brott into another room, and closed the door carefully behind him.
+
+"Mr. Brott," he said, "can I speak to you as a friend of Lucille's?"
+
+Brott, who distrusted the Prince, looked him steadily in the face. Saxe
+Leinitzer's agitation was too apparent to be wholly assumed. He had all
+the appearance of being a man desperately in earnest.
+
+"I have always considered myself one," Brott answered. "I am
+beginning to doubt, however, whether the Countess holds me in the same
+estimation."
+
+"You found her hysterical, unreasonable, overwrought!" the Prince
+exclaimed. "That is so, eh?"
+
+The Prince drew a long breath.
+
+"Brott," he said, "I am forced to confide in you. Lucille is in terrible
+danger. I am not sure that there is anybody who can effectually help
+her but you. Are you prepared to make a great sacrifice for her sake--to
+leave England at once, to take her to the uttermost part of the world?"
+
+Brott's eyes were suddenly bright. The Prince quailed before the
+fierceness of his gaze.
+
+"She would not go!" he exclaimed sharply.
+
+"She will," the Prince answered. "She must! Not only that, but you will
+earn her eternal gratitude. Listen, I must tell you the predicament in
+which we find ourselves. It places Lucille's life in your hands."
+
+"What?"
+
+The exclamation came like a pistol shot. The Prince held up his hand.
+
+"Do not interrupt. Let me speak. Every moment is very valuable. You
+heard without doubt of the sudden death at the Carlton Hotel. It took
+place in Mr. Sabin's sitting-room. The victim was Mr. Sabin's servant.
+The inquest was this afternoon. The verdict was death from the effect
+of poison. The police are hot upon the case. There was no evidence as
+to the person by whom the poison was administered, but by a hideous
+combination of circumstances one person before many hours have passed
+will be under the surveillance of the police."
+
+"And that person?" Brott asked.
+
+The Prince looked round and lowered his voice, although the room was
+empty.
+
+"Lucille," he whispered hoarsely.
+
+Brott stepped backwards as though he were shot.
+
+"What damned folly!" he exclaimed.
+
+"It is possible that you may not think so directly," Saxe Leinitzer
+continued. "The day it happened Lucille bought this same poison, and it
+is a rare one, from a man who has absconded. An hour before this man was
+found dead, she called at the hotel, left no name, but went upstairs
+to Mr. Sabin's room, and was alone there for five minutes, The man died
+from a single grain of poison which had been introduced into Mr. Sabin's
+special liqueur glass, out of which he was accustomed to drink three or
+four times a day. All these are absolute facts, which at any moment may
+be discovered by the police. Added to that she is living apart from her
+husband, and is known to be on bad terms with him."
+
+Brott as gripping the back of a chair. He was white to the lips.
+
+"You don't think," he cried hoarsely. "You can't believe--"
+
+"No" the Prince answered quickly, "I don't believe anything of the sort.
+I will tell you as man to man that I believe she wished Mr. Sabin dead.
+You yourself should know why. But no, I don't believe she went so far
+as that. It was an accident. But what we have to do is to save her. Will
+you help?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"She must cross to the Continent to-night before the police get on the
+scent. Afterwards she must double back to Havre and take the Bordlaise
+for New York on Saturday. Once there I can guarantee her protection."
+
+"Well?"
+
+"She cannot go alone."
+
+"You mean that I should go with her?"
+
+"Yes! Get her right away, and I will employ special detectives and have
+the matter cleared up, if ever it can be. But if she remains here I
+fear that nothing can save her from the horror of an arrest, even if
+afterwards we are able to save her. You yourself risk much, Brott. The
+only question that remains is, will you do it?"
+
+"At her bidding--yes!" Brott declared.
+
+"Wait here," the Prince answered.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIX
+
+Saxe Leinitzer returned to the morning-room, and taking the key from his
+pocket unlocked the door. Inside Lucille was pale with fury.
+
+"What! I am a prisoner, then!" she exclaimed. "How dare you lock me
+in? This is not your house. Let me pass! I am tired of all this stupid
+espionage."
+
+The Prince stood with his back to the door.
+
+"It is for your own sake, Lucille. The house is watched."
+
+She sank into a low chair, trembling. The Prince had all the appearance
+of a man himself seriously disturbed.
+
+"Lucille," he said, "we will do what we can for you. The whole thing is
+horribly unfortunate. You must leave England to-night. Muriel will go
+with you. Her presence will help to divert suspicion. Once you can
+reach Paris I can assure you of safety. But in this country I am almost
+powerless."
+
+"I must see Victor," she said in a low tone. "I will not go without."
+
+The Prince nodded.
+
+"I have thought of that. There is no reason, Lucille, why he should not
+be the one to lead you into safety."
+
+"You mean that?" she cried.
+
+"I mean it," the Prince answered. "After what has happened you are of
+course of no further use to us. I am inclined to think, too, that we
+have been somewhat exacting. I will send a messenger to Souspennier to
+meet you at Charing Cross to-night."
+
+She sprang up.
+
+"Let me write it myself."
+
+"Very well," he agreed, with a shrug of the shoulders. "But do not
+address or sign it. There is danger in any communication between you."
+
+She took a sheet of note-paper and hastily wrote a few words.
+
+"I have need of your help. Will you be at Charing Cross at twelve
+o'clock prepared for a journey.--Lucille."
+
+The Prince took the letter from her and hastily folded it up.
+
+"I will deliver it myself," he announced. "It will perhaps be safest.
+Until I return, Lucille, do not stir from the house or see any one.
+Muriel has given the servants orders to admit no one. All your life," he
+added, after a moment's pause, "you have been a little cruel to me,
+and this time also. I shall pray that you will relent before our next
+meeting."
+
+She rose to her feet and looked him full in the face. She seemed to be
+following out her own train of thought rather than taking note of his
+words.
+
+"Even now," she said thoughtfully, "I am not sure that I can trust you.
+I have a good mind to fight or scream my way out of this house, and go
+myself to see Victor."
+
+He shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"The fighting or the screaming will not be necessary, dear Countess," he
+said. "The doors are open to you. But it is as clear as day that if
+you go to the hotel or near it you will at once be recognised, and
+recognition means arrest. There is a limit beyond which one cannot help
+a wilful woman. Take your life in your hands and go your own way, or
+trust in us who are doing our best to save you."
+
+"And what of Reginald Brott?" she asked.
+
+"Brott?" the Prince repeated impatiently. "Who cares what becomes of
+him? You have made him seem a fool, but, Lucille, to tell you the truth,
+I am sorry that we did not leave this country altogether alone. There
+is not the soil for intrigue here, or the possibility. Then, too, the
+police service is too stolid, too inaccessible. And even our friends,
+for whose aid we are here--well, you heard the Duke. The cast-iron Saxon
+idiocy of the man. The aristocracy here are what they call bucolic. It
+is their own fault. They have intermarried with parvenus and Americans
+for generations. They are a race by themselves. We others may shake
+ourselves free from them. I would work in any country of the globe for
+the good of our cause, but never again in England."
+
+Lucille shivered a little.
+
+"I am not in the humour for argument," she declared. "If you would earn
+my gratitude take that note to my husband. He is the only man I feel
+sure of--whom I know can protect me."
+
+The Prince bowed low.
+
+"It is our farewell, Countess," he said.
+
+"I cannot pretend," she answered, "to regret it."
+
+Saxe Leinitzer left the room. There was a peculiar smile upon his lips
+as he crossed the hall. Brott was still awaiting for him.
+
+"Mr. Brott," he said, "the Countess is, as I feared, too agitated to see
+you again for the present, or any one else. She sends you, however, this
+message."
+
+He took the folded paper from his waistcoat pocket and handed it to the
+other man. Brott read it through eagerly. His eyes shone.
+
+"She accepts the situation, then?" he exclaimed.
+
+"Precisely! Will you pardon me, my friend, if I venture upon one other
+word. Lucille is not an ordinary woman. She is not in the least like the
+majority of her sex, especially, I might add, amongst us. The fact that
+her husband was living would seriously influence her consideration of
+any other man--as her lover. The present crisis, however, has changed
+everything. I do not think that you will have cause to complain of her
+lack of gratitude."
+
+Brott walked out into the streets with the half sheet of note-paper
+twisted up between his fingers. For the first time for months he was
+conscious of a distinct and vivid sense of happiness. The terrible
+period of indecision was past. He knew now where he stood. Nor was
+his immediate departure from England altogether unpleasant to him. His
+political career was shattered--friends and enemies were alike cold to
+him. Such an act of cowardice as his, such pitiful shrinking back at the
+last fateful moment, was inexplicable and revolting. Even Letheringham
+was barely civil. It was certain that his place in the Cabinet would be
+intolerable. He yearned for escape from it all, and the means of escape
+were now at hand. In after years he knew very well that the shadow of
+his broken trust, the torture of his misused opportunities, would stand
+for ever between him and the light. But at that moment he was able
+to clear his mind of all such disquieting thoughts. He had won
+Lucille--never mind at what cost, at what peril! He had won Lucille!
+
+He was deeply engrossed, and his name was spoken twice in his ear before
+he turned round. A small, somewhat shabby-looking man, with tired eyes
+and more than a day's growth of beard upon his chin, had accosted him.
+
+"Mr. Brott, sir. A word with you, please."
+
+Brott held out his hand. Nevertheless his tone when he spoke lacked
+heartiness.
+
+"You, Hedley! Why, what brings you to London?"
+
+The little man did not seem to see the hand. At any rate he made no
+motion to take it.
+
+"A few minutes' chat with Mr. Brott. That's what I've come for."
+
+Brott raised his eyebrows, and nodded in somewhat constrained fashion.
+
+"Well," he said, "I am on my way to my rooms. We can talk as we go, if
+you like. I am afraid the good people up in your part of the world are
+not too well pleased with me."
+
+The little man smiled rather queerly.
+
+"That is quite true," he answered calmly. "They hate a liar and a
+turn-coat. So do I!"
+
+Brott stopped short upon the pavement.
+
+"If you are going to talk like that to me, Hedley," he said, "the less
+you have to say the better."
+
+The man nodded.
+
+"Very well," he said. "What I have to say won't take me very long. But
+as I've tramped most of the way up here to say it, you'll have to listen
+here or somewhere else. I thought you were always one who liked the
+truth."
+
+"So I do!" Brott answered. "Go on!"
+
+The man shuffled along by his side. They were an odd-looking pair, for
+Brott was rather a careful man as regards his toilet, and his companion
+looked little better than a tramp.
+
+"All my life," he continued, "I've been called 'Mad Hedley,' or 'Hedley,
+the mad tailor.' Sometimes one and sometimes the other. It don't matter
+which. There's truth in, it. I am a bit mad. You, Mr. Brott, were one
+of those who understood me a little. I have brooded a good deal perhaps,
+and things have got muddled up in my brain. You know what has been at
+the bottom of it all.
+
+"I began making speeches when I was a boy. People laughed at me, but
+I've set many a one a-thinking. I'm no anarchist, although people call
+me one. I'll admit that I admire the men who set the French Revolution
+going. If such a thing happened in this country I'd be one of the first
+to join in. But I've never had a taste for bloodshed. I'd rather the
+thing had been done without. From the first you seemed to be the man who
+might have brought it about. We listened to you, we watched your career,
+and we began to have hopes. Mr. Brott, the bodies and souls of millions
+of your fellow-creatures were in the hollow of your hand. It was you
+who might have set them free. It was you who might have made this the
+greatest, the freest, the happiest country in the world. Not so much for
+us perhaps as for our children, and our children's children. We didn't
+expect a huge social upheaval in a week, or even a decade of years. But
+we did expect to see the first blow struck. Oh, yes, we expected that."
+
+"I have disappointed you, I know, you and many others," Brott said
+bitterly. "I wish I could explain. But I can't!"
+
+"Oh, it doesn't matter," the man answered. "You have broken the hearts
+of thousands of suffering men and women--you who might have led them
+into the light, have forged another bolt in the bars which stand between
+them and liberty. So they must live on in the darkness, dull, dumb
+creatures with just spirit enough to spit and curse at the sound of your
+name. It was the greatest trust God ever placed in one man's hand--and
+you--you abused it. They were afraid of you--the aristocrats, and they
+bought you. Oh, we are not blind up there--there are newspapers in our
+public houses, and now and then one can afford a half-penny. We have
+read of you at their parties and their dances. Quite one of them you
+have become, haven't you? But, Mr. Brott, have you never been afraid?
+Have you never said to yourself, there is justice in the earth? Suppose
+it finds me out?"
+
+"Hedley, you are talking rubbish," Brott said. "Up here you would see
+things with different eyes. Letheringham is pledged."
+
+"If any man ever earned hell," Hedley continued, "it is you, Brott,
+you who came to us a deliverer, and turned out to be a lying prophet.
+'Hell,'" he repeated fiercely, "and may you find it swiftly."
+
+The man's right hand came out of his long pocket. They were in the thick
+of Piccadilly, but his action was too swift for any interference. Four
+reports rang suddenly out, and the muzzle of the revolver was held
+deliberately within an inch or so of Brett's heart. And before even
+the nearest of the bystanders could realise what had happened Brott lay
+across the pavement a dead man, and Hedley was calmly handing over the
+revolver to a policeman who had sprang across the street.
+
+"Be careful, officer," he said, "there are still two chambers loaded.
+I will come with you quite quietly. That is Mr. Reginald Brott, the
+Cabinet Minister, and I have killed him."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XL
+
+"For once," Lady Carey said, with a faint smile, "your 'admirable
+Crichton' has failed you."
+
+Lucille opened her eyes. She had been leaning back amongst the railway
+cushions.
+
+"I think not," she said. "Only I blame myself that I ever trusted the
+Prince even so far as to give him that message. For I know very well
+that if Victor had received it he would have been here."
+
+Lady Carey took up a great pile of papers and looked them carelessly
+through.
+
+"I am afraid," she said, "that I do not agree with you. I do not think
+that Saxe Leinitzer had any desire except to see you safely away. I
+believe that he will be quite as disappointed as you are that your
+husband is not here to aid you. Some one must see you safely on the
+steamer at Havre. Perhaps he will come himself."
+
+"I shall wait in Paris," Lucille said quietly, "for my husband."
+
+"You may wait," Lady Carey said, "for a very long time."
+
+Lucille looked at her steadily. "What do you mean?"
+
+"What a fool you are, Lucille. If to other people it seems almost
+certain on the face of it that you were responsible for that drop of
+poison in your husband's liqueur glass, why should it not seem so to
+himself?"
+
+Lucille laughed, but there was a look of horror in her dark eyes.
+
+"How absurd. I know Victor better than to believe him capable of such a
+suspicion. Just as he knows me better than to believe me capable of such
+an act."
+
+"Really. But you were in his rooms secretly just before."
+
+"I went to leave some roses for him," Lucille answered. "And if you
+would like to know it, I will tell you this. I left my card tied to them
+with a message for him."
+
+Lady Carey yawned.
+
+"A remarkably foolish thing to do," she said. "That may cause you
+trouble later on. Great heavens, what is this?"
+
+She held the evening paper open in her hand. Lucille leaned over with
+blanched face.
+
+"What has happened?" she cried. "Tell me, can't you!"
+
+"Reginald Brott has been shot in Piccadilly," Lady Carey said.
+
+"Is he hurt?" Lucille asked.
+
+"He is dead!"
+
+They read the brief announcement together. The deed had been committed
+by a man whose reputation for sanity had long been questioned, one of
+Brott's own constituents. He was in custody, and freely admitted his
+guilt. The two women looked at one another in horror. Even Lady Carey
+was affected.
+
+"What a hateful thing," she said. "I am glad that we had no hand in it."
+
+"Are you so sure that we hadn't?" Lucille asked bitterly. "You see what
+it says. The man killed him because of his political apostasy. We had
+something to do with that at least."
+
+Lady Carey was recovering her sang froid.
+
+"Oh, well," she said, "indirect influences scarcely count, or one might
+trace the causes of everything which happens back to an absurd extent.
+If this man was mad he might just as well have shot Brott for anything."
+
+Lucille made no answer. She leaned back and closed her eyes. She did not
+speak again till they reached Dover.
+
+They embarked in the drizzling rain. Lady Carey drew a little breath of
+relief as they reached their cabin, and felt the boat move beneath them.
+
+"Thank goodness that we are really off. I have been horribly nervous all
+the time. If they let you leave England they can have no suspicion as
+yet."
+
+Lucille was putting on an ulster and cap to go out on deck.
+
+"I am not at all sure," she said, "that I shall not return to England.
+At any rate, if Victor does not come to me in Paris I shall go to him."
+
+"What beautiful trust!" Lady Carey answered. "My dear Lucille, you are
+more like a school-girl than a woman of the world."
+
+
+A steward entered with a telegram for Lucille. It was banded in at the
+Haymarket, an hour before their departure. Lucille read it, and her face
+blanched. "I thank you for your invitation, but I fear that it would not
+be good for my health.--S."
+
+Lady Carey looked over her shoulder. She laughed hardly.
+
+"How brutal!" she murmured. "But, then, Victor can be brutal sometimes,
+can't he?"
+
+Lucille tore it into small pieces without a word. Lady Carey waited for
+a remark from her in vain.
+
+"I, too," she said at last, "have had some telegrams. I have been
+hesitating whether to show them to you or not. Perhaps you had better
+see them."
+
+She produced them and spread them out. The first was dated about the
+same time as the one Lucille had received.
+
+"Have seen S. with message from Lucille. Fear quite useless, as he
+believes worst."
+
+The second was a little longer.
+
+"Have just heard S. has left for Liverpool, and has engaged berth in
+Campania, sailing to-morrow. Break news to Lucille if you think well.
+Have wired him begging return, and promising full explanation."
+
+"If these," Lucille said calmly, "belonged to me I should treat them as
+I have my own."
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"I should tear them up."
+
+Lady Carey shrugged her shoulders with the air of one who finds further
+argument hopeless.
+
+"I shall have no more to say to you, Lucille, on this subject," she
+said. "You are impossible. In a few days you will be forced to come
+round to my point of view. I will wait till then. And in the meantime,
+if you think I am going to tramp up and down those sloppy decks and gaze
+at the sea you are very much mistaken. I am going to lie down like a
+civilized being, and try and get a nap. You had better do the same."
+
+Lucille laughed.
+
+"For my part," she said, "I find any part of the steamer except the deck
+intolerable. I am going now in search of some fresh air. Shall I send
+your woman along?"
+
+Lady Carey nodded, for just then the steamer gave a violent lurch, and
+she was not feeling talkative. Lucille went outside and walked up and
+down until the lights of Calais were in sight. All the time she felt
+conscious of the observation of a small man clad in a huge mackintosh,
+whose peaked cap completely obscured his features. As they were entering
+the harbour she purposely stood by his side. He held on to the rail with
+one hand and turned towards her.
+
+"It has been quite a rough passage, has it not?" he remarked.
+
+She nodded.
+
+"I have crossed," she said, "when it has been much worse. I do not mind
+so long as one may come on deck."
+
+"Your friend," he remarked, "is perhaps not so good a sailor?"
+
+"I believe," Lucille said, "that she suffers a great deal. I just looked
+in at her, and she was certainly uncomfortable."
+
+The little man gripped the rail and held on to his cap with the other
+hand.
+
+"You are going to Paris?" he asked.
+
+Lucille nodded.
+
+"Yes."
+
+They were in smoother water now. He was able to relax his grip of the
+rail. He turned towards Lucille, and she saw him for the first time
+distinctly--a thin, wizened-up little man, with shrewd kindly eyes, and
+a long deeply cut mouth.
+
+"I trust," he said, "that you will not think me impertinent, but it
+occurred to me that you have noticed some apparent interest of mine in
+your movements since you arrived on the boat."
+
+Lucille nodded.
+
+"It is true," she answered. "That is why I came and stood by your side.
+What do you want with me?"
+
+"Nothing, madam," he answered. "I am here altogether in your interests.
+If you should want help I shall be somewhere near you for the next few
+hours. Do not hesitate to appeal to me. My mission here is to be your
+protector should you need one."
+
+Lucille's eyes grew bright, and her heart beat quickly.
+
+"Tell me," she said, "who sent you?"
+
+He smiled.
+
+"I think that you know," he answered. "One who I can assure you will
+never allow you to suffer any harm. I have exceeded my instructions in
+speaking to you, but I fancied that you were looking worried. You need
+not. I can assure you that you need have no cause."
+
+Her eyes filled with tears.
+
+"I knew," she said, "that those telegrams were forgeries."
+
+He looked carefully around.
+
+"I know nothing about any telegrams," he said, "but I am here to see
+that no harm comes to you, and I promise you that it shall not. Your
+friend is looking out of the cabin door. I think we may congratulate
+ourselves, madam, on an excellent passage."
+
+Lady Carey disembarked, a complete wreck, leaning on the arm of her
+maid, and with a bottle of smelling salts clutched in her hand. She
+slept all the way in the train, and only woke up when they were nearing
+Paris. She looked at Lucille in astonishment.
+
+"Why, what on earth have you been doing to yourself?" she exclaimed.
+"You look disgustingly fit and well."
+
+Lucille laughed softly.
+
+"Why not? I have had a nap, and we are almost at Paris. I only want a
+bath and a change of clothes to feel perfectly fresh."
+
+But Lady Carey was suspicious.
+
+"Have you seen any one you know upon the train?" she asked.
+
+Lucille shook her head.
+
+"Not a soul. A little man whom I spoke to on the steamer brought me some
+coffee. That is all."
+
+Lady Carey yawned and shook out her skirts. "I suppose I'm getting old,"
+she said. "I couldn't look as you do with as much on my mind as you must
+have, and after traveling all night too."
+
+Lucille laughed.
+
+"After all," she said, "you know that I am a professional optimist, and
+I have faith in my luck. I have been thinking matters over calmly, and,
+to tell you the truth, I am not in the least alarmed."
+
+Lady Carey looked at her curiously.
+
+"Has the optimism been imbibed," she asked, "or is it spontaneous?"
+
+Lucille smiled.
+
+"Unless the little man in the plaid mackintosh poured it into the coffee
+with the milk," she said, "I could not possibly have imbibed it, for I
+haven't spoken to another soul since we left."
+
+"Paris! Here we are, thank goodness. Celeste can see the things through
+the customs. She is quite used to it. We are going to the Ritz, I
+suppose!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLI
+
+At eight o'clock in the evening Lucille knocked at the door of Lady
+Carey's suite of rooms at the hotel. There was no answer. A chambermaid
+who was near came smiling up.
+
+"Miladi has, I think, descended for dinner," she said.
+
+Lucille looked at her watch. She saw that she was a few minutes late, so
+she descended to the restaurant. The small table which they had reserved
+was, however, still unoccupied. Lucille told the waiter that she would
+wait for a few moments, and sent for an English newspaper.
+
+Lady Carey did not appear. A quarter of an hour passed. The head waiter
+came up with a benign smile.
+
+"Madam will please to be served?" he suggested, with a bow.
+
+"I am waiting for my friend Lady Carey," Lucille answered. "I understood
+that she had come down. Perhaps you will send and see if she is in the
+reading-room."
+
+"With much pleasure, madam," the man answered.
+
+In a few minutes he returned.
+
+"Madam's friend was the Lady Carey?" he asked.
+
+Lucille nodded.
+
+The man was gently troubled.
+
+"But, Miladi Carey," he said, "has left more than an hour ago."
+
+Lucille looked up, astonished.
+
+"Left the hotel?" she exclaimed.
+
+"But yes, madam," he exclaimed. "Miladi Carey left to catch the boat
+train at Calais for England."
+
+"It is impossible," Lucille answered. "We only arrived at midday."
+
+"I will inquire again," the man declared. "But it was in the office that
+they told me so."
+
+"They told you quite correctly," said a familiar voice. "I have come
+to take her place. Countess, I trust that in me you will recognise an
+efficient substitute."
+
+It was the Prince of Saxe Leinitzer who was calmly seating himself
+opposite to her. The waiter, with the discretion of his class, withdrew
+for a few paces and stood awaiting orders. Lucille looked across at him
+in amazement.
+
+"You here?" she exclaimed, "and Muriel gone? What does this mean?"
+
+The Prince leaned forward.
+
+"It means," he said, "that after you left I was in torment. I felt that
+you had no one with you who could be of assistance supposing the worst
+happened. Muriel is all very well, but she is a woman, and she has no
+diplomacy, no resource. I felt, Lucille, that I should not be happy
+unless I myself saw you into safety."
+
+"So you followed us here," Lucille remarked quietly.
+
+"Exactly! You do not blame me. It was for your sake--as well as my own."
+
+"And Muriel--why has she left me without farewell--without warning of
+any sort?"
+
+The Prince smiled and stroked his fair moustache.
+
+"Well," he said, "it is rather an awkward thing for me to explain, but
+to tell you the truth, Muriel was a little--more than a little--annoyed
+at my coming. She has no right to be, but--well, you know, she is what
+you call a monopolist. She and I have been friends for many years."
+
+"I understand perfectly what you have wished to convey," Lucille said.
+"But what I do not understand are the exact reasons which brought you
+here."
+
+The Prince took up the carte de jour.
+
+"As we dine," he said, "I will tell you. You will permit me to order?"
+
+Lucille rose to her feet.
+
+"For yourself, certainly," she answered. "As for me, I have accepted no
+invitation to dine with you, nor do I propose to do so."
+
+The Prince frowned.
+
+"Be reasonable, Lucille," he pleaded. "I must talk with you. There
+are important plans to be made. I have a great deal to say to you. Sit
+down."
+
+Lucille looked across at him with a curious smile upon her lips.
+
+"You have a good deal to say to me?" she remarked. "Yes, I will believe
+that. But of the truth how much, I wonder?"
+
+"By and bye," he said, "you will judge me differently. For hors
+d'oeuvres what do you say to oeufs de pluvier? Then--"
+
+"Pardon me," she interrupted, "I am not interested in your dinner!"
+
+"In our dinner," he ventured gently.
+
+"I am not dining with you," she declared firmly. "If you insist upon
+remaining here I shall have something served in my room. You know quite
+well that we are certain to be recognised. One would imagine that this
+was a deliberate attempt on your part to compromise me."
+
+"Lucille," he said, "do not be foolish! Why do you persist in treating
+me as though I were your persecutor?"
+
+"Because you are," she said coolly.
+
+"It is ridiculous," he declared. "You are in the most serious danger,
+and I have come only to save you. I can do it, and I will. But
+listen--not unless you change your demeanour towards me."
+
+She laughed scornfully. She had risen to her feet now, and he was
+perforce compelled to follow her example.
+
+"Is that a challenge?" she asked.
+
+"You may take it as such if you will," he answered, with a note of
+sullenness in his tone. "You know very well that I have but to lift my
+finger and the gendarmes will be here. Yes, we will call it a challenge.
+All my life I have wanted you. Now I think that my time has come. Even
+Souspennier has deserted you. You are alone, and let me tell you that
+danger is closer at your heels than you know of. I can save you, and I
+will. But I have a price, and it must be paid."
+
+"If I refuse?" she asked.
+
+"I send for the chief of the police."
+
+She looked him up and down, a measured, merciless survey. He was a tall,
+big man, but he seemed to shrink into insignificance.
+
+"You are a coward and a bully," she said slowly. "You know quite well
+that I am innocent of any knowledge even concerning Duson's death. But
+I would sooner meet my fate, whatever it might be, than suffer even the
+touch of your fingers upon my hand. Your presence is hateful to me. Send
+for your chief of the police. String your lies together as you will. I
+am satisfied."
+
+She left him and swept from the room, a spot of colour burning in her
+cheeks, her eyes lit with fire. The pride of her race had asserted
+itself. She felt no longer any fear. She only desired to sever herself
+at once and completely from all association with this man. In the hall
+she sent for her maid.
+
+"Fetch my cloak and jewel case, Celeste," she ordered. "I am going
+across to the Bristol. You can return for the other luggage."
+
+"But, madam--"
+
+"Do as I say at once," Lucille ordered.
+
+The girl hesitated and then obeyed. Lucille found herself suddenly
+addressed in a quiet tone by a man who had been sitting in an
+easy-chair, half hidden by a palm tree.
+
+"Will you favour me, madam, with a moment's conversation?"
+
+Lucille turned round. She recognised at once the man with whom she had
+conversed upon the steamer. In the quietest form of evening dress, there
+was something noticeable in the man's very insignificance. He seemed a
+little out of his element. Lucille had a sudden inspiration, The man was
+a detective.
+
+"What do you wish to say?" she asked, half doubtfully.
+
+"I overheard," he remarked, "your order to your maid. She had something
+to say to you, but you gave her no opportunity."
+
+"And you?" she asked, "what do you wish to say?"
+
+"I wish to advise you," he said, "not to leave the hotel."
+
+She looked at him doubtfully.
+
+"You cannot understand," she said, "why I wish to leave it. I have no
+alternative."
+
+"Nevertheless," he said, "I hope that you will change your mind."
+
+"Are you a detective?" she asked abruptly.
+
+"Madam is correct!"
+
+The flush of colour faded from her cheeks.
+
+"I presume, then," she said, "that I am under your surveillance?"
+
+"In a sense," he admitted, "it is true."
+
+"On the steamer," she remarked, "you spoke as though your interest in me
+was not inimical."
+
+"Nor is it," he answered promptly. "You are in a difficult position, but
+you may find things not so bad as you imagine. At present my advice to
+you is this: Go upstairs to your room and stay there."
+
+The little man had a compelling manner. Lucille made her way towards the
+elevator.
+
+"As a matter of fact," she murmured bitterly, "I am not, I suppose,
+permitted to leave the hotel?"
+
+"Madam puts the matter bluntly," he answered; "but certainly if you
+should insist upon leaving, it would be my duty to follow you."
+
+She turned away from him and entered the elevator. The door of her room
+was slightly ajar, and she saw that a waiter was busy at a small round
+table. She looked at him in surprise. He was arranging places for two.
+
+"Who gave you your orders?" she asked.
+
+"But it was monsieur," the man answered, with a low bow. "Dinner for
+two."
+
+"Monsieur?" she repeated. "What monsieur?"
+
+"I am the culprit," a familiar voice answered from the depths of an
+easy-chair, whose back was to her. "I was very hungry, and it occurred
+to me that under the circumstances you would probably not have dined
+either. I hope that you will like what I have ordered. The plovers' eggs
+look delicious."
+
+She gave a little cry of joy. It was Mr. Sabin.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLII
+
+The Prince dined carefully, but with less than his usual appetite.
+Afterwards he lit a cigarette and strolled for a moment into the lounge.
+Celeste, who was waiting for him, glided at once to his side.
+
+"Monsieur!" she whispered. "I have been here for one hour."
+
+He nodded.
+
+"Well?"
+
+"Monsieur le Duc has arrived."
+
+The Prince turned sharply round.
+
+"Who?"
+
+"Monsieur le Duc de Souspennier. He calls himself no longer Mr. Sabin."
+
+A dull flush of angry colour rose almost to his temples.
+
+"Why did you not tell me before?" he exclaimed.
+
+"Monsieur was in the restaurant," she answered. "It was impossible for
+me to do anything but wait."
+
+"Where is he?"
+
+"Alas! he is with madam," the girl answered.
+
+The Prince was very profane. He started at once for the elevator. In a
+moment or two he presented himself at Lucille's sitting-room. They were
+still lingering over their dinner. Mr. Sabin welcomed him with grave
+courtesy.
+
+"The Prince is in time to take his liqueur with us," he remarked,
+rising. "Will you take fin champagne, Prince, or Chartreuse? I recommend
+the fin champagne."
+
+The Prince bowed his thanks. He was white to the lips with the effort
+for self-mastery.
+
+"I congratulate you, Mr. Sabin," he said, "upon your opportune arrival.
+You will be able to help Lucille through the annoyance to which I deeply
+regret that she should be subjected."
+
+Mr. Sabin gently raised his eyebrows.
+
+"Annoyance!" he repeated. "I fear that I do not quite understand."
+
+The Prince smiled.
+
+"Surely Lucille has told you," he said, "of the perilous position in
+which she finds herself."
+
+"My wife," Mr. Sabin said, "has told me nothing. You alarm me."
+
+The Prince shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"I deeply regret to tell you," he said, "that the law has proved too
+powerful for me. I can no longer stand between her and what I fear may
+prove a most unpleasant episode. Lucille will be arrested within the
+hour."
+
+"Upon what charge?" Mr. Sabin asked.
+
+"The murder of Duson."
+
+Mr. Sabin laughed very softly, very gently, but with obvious
+genuineness.
+
+"You are joking, Prince," he exclaimed.
+
+"I regret to say," the Prince answered, "that you will find it very far
+from a joking matter."
+
+Mr. Sabin was suddenly stern.
+
+"Prince of Saxe Leinitzer," he said, "you are a coward and a bully."
+
+The Prince started forward with clenched fist. Mr. Sabin had no weapon,
+but he did not flinch.
+
+"You can frighten women," he said, "with a bogie such as this, but you
+have no longer a woman to deal with. You and I know that such a charge
+is absurd--but you little know the danger to which you expose yourself
+by trifling with this subject. Duson left a letter addressed to me in
+which he announced his reasons for committing suicide."
+
+"Suicide?"
+
+"Yes. He preferred suicide to murder, even at the bidding of the Prince
+of Saxe Leinitzer. He wrote and explained these things to me--and the
+letter is in safe hands. The arrest of Lucille, my dear Prince, would
+mean the ruin of your amiable society."
+
+"This letter," the Prince said slowly, "why was it not produced at the
+inquest? Where is it now?"
+
+"It is deposited in a sealed packet with the Earl of Deringham," Mr.
+Sabin answered. "As to producing it at the inquest--I thought it more
+discreet not to. I leave you to judge of my reasons. But I can assure
+you that your fears for my wife's safety have been wholly misplaced.
+There is not the slightest reason for her to hurry off to America. We
+may take a little trip there presently, but not just yet."
+
+The Prince made a mistake. He lost his temper.
+
+"You!" he cried, "you can go to America when you like, and stay there.
+Europe has had enough of you with your hare-brained schemes and foolish
+failures. But Lucille does not leave this country. We have need of her.
+I forbid her to leave. Do you hear? In the name of the Order I command
+her to remain here."
+
+Mr. Sabin was quite calm, but his face was full of terrible things.
+
+"Prince," he said, "if I by any chance numbered myself amongst your
+friends I would warn you that you yourself are a traitor to your Order.
+You prostitute a great cause when you stoop to use its machinery to
+assist your own private vengeance. I ask you for your own sake to
+consider your words. Lucille is mine--mine she will remain, even though
+you should descend to something more despicable, more cowardly than
+ordinary treason, to wrest her from me. You reproach me with the
+failures of my life. Great they may have been, but if you attempt this
+you will find that I am not yet an impotent person."
+
+The Prince was white with rage. The sight of Lucille standing by Mr.
+Sabin's side, her hand lightly resting upon his, her dark eyes full of
+inscrutable tenderness, maddened him. He was flouted and ignored. He was
+carried away by a storm of passion. He tore a sheet of paper from his
+pocket book, and unlocking a small gold case at the end of his watch
+chain, shook from it a pencil with yellow crayon. Mr. Sabin leaned over
+towards him.
+
+"You sign it at your peril, Prince," he said. "It will mean worse things
+than that for you."
+
+For a second he hesitated. Lucille also leaned towards him.
+
+"Prince," she said, "have I not kept my vows faithfully? Think! I came
+from America at a moment's notice; I left my husband without even a word
+of farewell; I entered upon a hateful task, and though to think of it
+now makes me loathe myself--I succeeded. I have kept my vows, I have
+done my duty. Be generous now, and let me go."
+
+The sound of her voice maddened him. A passionate, arbitrary man, to
+whom nothing in life had been denied, to be baulked in this great desire
+of his latter days was intolerable. He made no answer to either of them.
+He wrote a few lines with the yellow crayon and passed them silently
+across to Lucille.
+
+Her face blanched. She stretched out an unwilling hand. But Mr. Sabin
+intervened. He took the paper from the Prince's hand, and calmly tore it
+into fragments. There was a moment's breathless silence.
+
+"Victor!" Lucille cried. "Oh, what have you done!"
+
+The Prince's face lightened with an evil joy.
+
+"We now, I think," he said, "understand one another. You will permit me
+to wish you a very pleasant evening, and a speedy leave-taking."
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled.
+
+"Many thanks, my dear Prince," he said lightly. "Make haste and complete
+your charming little arrangements. Let me beg of you to avoid bungling
+this time. Remember that there is not in the whole of Europe to-day a
+man more dangerous to you than I."
+
+The Prince had departed. Mr. Sabin lit a cigarette and stood on the
+hearthrug. His eyes were bright with the joy of fighting.
+
+"Lucille," he said, "I see that you have not touched your liqueur.
+Oblige me by drinking it. You will find it excellent."
+
+She came over to him and hung upon his arm. He threw his cigarette away
+and kissed her upon the lips.
+
+"Victor," she murmured, "I am afraid. You have been rash!"
+
+"Dearest," he answered, "it is better to die fighting than to stand
+aside and watch evil things. But after all, there is no fear. Come! Your
+cloak and dressing case!"
+
+"You have plans?" she exclaimed, springing up.
+
+"Plans?" He laughed at her a little reproachfully. "My dear Lucille! A
+carriage awaits us outside, a special train with steam up at the Gard de
+L'ouest. This is precisely the contingency for which I have planned."
+
+"Oh, you are wonderful, Victor," she murmured as she drew on her coat.
+"But what corner of the earth is there where we should be safe?"
+
+"I am going," Mr. Sabin said, "to try and make every corner of the earth
+safe."
+
+She was bewildered, but he only laughed and held open the door for her.
+Mr. Sabin made no secret of his departure. He lingered for a moment in
+the doorway to light a cigarette, he even stopped to whisper a few
+words to the little man in plain dinner clothes who was lounging in the
+doorway. But when they had once left the hotel they drove fast.
+
+In less than half an hour Paris was behind them. They were traveling in
+a royal saloon and at a fabuulous cost, for in France they are not fond
+of special trains. But Mr. Sabin was very happy. At least he had escaped
+an ignominious defeat. It was left to him to play the great card.
+
+"And now," Lucille said, coming out from her little bed-chamber which
+the femme de chambre was busy preparing, "suppose you tell me where we
+are going."
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled.
+
+"Do not be alarmed," he said, "even though it will sound to you the
+least likely place in the world. We are going to Berlin."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIII
+
+The great room was dimly enough lit, for the windows looking out upon
+the street were high and heavily curtained, The man who sat at the desk
+was almost in the shadow. Yet every now and then a shaft of sunlight
+fell across his pale, worn face. A strange combination this of the
+worker, the idealist, the man of affairs. From outside came the hum of
+a great city. At times, too, there came to his ears as he sat here the
+roar of nations at strife, the fierce underneath battle of the great
+countries of the world struggling for supremacy. And here at this
+cabinet this man sat often, and listened, strenuous, romantic, with
+the heart of a lion and the lofty imagination of an eagle, he steered
+unswervingly on to her destiny a great people. Others might rest, but
+never he.
+
+He looked up from the letter spread out before him. Lucille was seated
+at his command, a few yards away. Mr. Sabin stood respectfully before
+him.
+
+"Monsieur le Duc," he said, "this letter, penned by my illustrious
+father to you, is sufficient to secure my good offices. In what manner
+can I serve you?"
+
+"Your Majesty," Mr. Sabin answered, "in the first place by receiving me
+here. In the second by allowing me to lay before you certain grave and
+very serious charges against the Order of the Yellow Crayon, of which
+your Majesty is the titular head."
+
+"The Order of the Yellow Crayon," the Emperor said thoughtfully,
+"is society composed of aristocrats pledged to resist the march of
+socialism. It is true that I am the titular head of this organisation.
+What have you to say about it?"
+
+"Only that your Majesty has been wholly deceived," Mr. Sabin said
+respectfully, "concerning the methods and the working of this society.
+Its inception and inauguration were above reproach. I myself at once
+became a member. My wife, Countess of Radantz, and sole representative
+of that ancient family, has been one all her life."
+
+The Emperor inclined his head towards Lucille.
+
+"I see no reason," he said, "when our capitals are riddled with secret
+societies, all banded together against us, why the great families of
+Europe should not in their turn come together and display a united front
+against this common enemy. The Order of the Yellow Crayon has had more
+than my support. It has had the sanction of my name. Tell me what you
+have against it."
+
+"I have grave things to say concerning it," Mr. Sahin answered, "and
+concerning those who have wilfully deceived your Majesty. The influences
+to be wielded by the society were mainly, I believe, wealth, education,
+and influence. There was no mention made of murder, of an underground
+alliance with the 'gamins' of Paris, the dregs of humanity, prisoners,
+men skilled in the art of secret death."
+
+The Emperor's tone was stern, almost harsh.
+
+"Duc de Souspennier, what are these things which you are saying?" he
+asked.
+
+"Your Majesty, I speak the truth," Mr. Sabin answered firmly. "There
+are in the Order of the Yellow Crayon three degrees of membership. The
+first, which alone your Majesty knows of, simply corresponds with
+what in England is known as the Primrose League. The second knows that
+beneath is another organisation pledged to frustrate the advance of
+socialism, if necessary by the use of their own weapons. The third,
+whose meetings and signs and whose whole organisation is carried on
+secretly, is allied in every capital in Europe with criminals and
+murderers. With its great wealth it has influence in America as well
+as in every city of the world where there are police to be suborned,
+or desperate men to be bought for tools. At the direction of this third
+order Lavinski died suddenly in the Hungarian House of Parliament,
+Herr Krettingen was involved in a duel, the result of which was assured
+beforehand, and Reginald Brott, the great English statesman, was ruined
+and disgraced. I myself have just narrowly escaped death at his hands,
+and in my place my servant has been driven to death. Of all these
+things, your Majesty, I have brought proofs."
+
+The Emperor's face was like a carven image, but his tone was cold and
+terrible.
+
+"If these things have been sanctioned," he said, "by those who are
+responsible for my having become the head of the Order; they shall feel
+my vengeance."
+
+"Your Majesty," Mr. Sabin said earnestly, "a chance disclosure, and all
+might come to light. I myself could blazon the story through Europe.
+Those who are responsible for the third degree of the Order of
+the Yellow Crayon, and for your Majesty's ignorance concerning its
+existence, have trifled with the destiny of the greatest sovereign of
+modern times."
+
+"The Prince of Saxe Leinitzer," the Emperor said, "is the acting head of
+the Order."
+
+"The Prince of Saxe Leinitzer," Mr. Sabin said firmly, "is responsible
+for the existence of the third degree. It is he who has connected the
+society with a system of corrupt police or desperate criminals in every
+great city. It is the Prince of Saxe Leinitzer, your Majesty, and
+his horde of murderers from whom I have come to seek your Majesty's
+protection. I have yet another charge to make against him. He has made,
+and is making still, use of the society to further his own private
+intrigues. In the name of the Order he brought my wife from America.
+She faithfully carried out the instructions of the Council. She brought
+about the ruin of Reginald Brott. By the rules of the society she was
+free then to return to her home. The Prince, who had been her suitor,
+declined to let her go. My life was attempted. The story of the Prince's
+treason is here, with the necessary proofs. I know that orders have been
+given to the hired murderers of the society for my assassination. My
+life even here is probably an uncertain thing. But I have told your
+Majesty the truth, and the papers which I have brought with me contain
+proof of my words."
+
+The Emperor struck a bell and gave a few orders to the young officer who
+immediately answered it. Then he turned again to Mr. Sabin.
+
+"I have summoned Saxe Leinitzer to Berlin," he said. "These matters
+shall be gone into most thoroughly. In the meantime what can I do for
+you?"
+
+"We will await the coming of the Prince," Mr. Sabin answered grimly.
+
+     *           *           *           *           *
+
+Lady Carey passed from her bath-room into a luxurious little
+dressing-room. Her letters and coffee were on a small table near the
+fire, an easy-chair was drawn up to the hearthrug. She fastened the
+girdle of her dressing-gown, and dismissed her maid.
+
+"I will ring for you in half an hour, Annette," she said. "See that I am
+not disturbed."
+
+On her way to the fireplace she paused for a moment in front of a tall
+looking-glass, and looked steadily at her own reflection.
+
+"I suppose," she murmured to herself, "that I am looking at my best now.
+I slept well last night, and a bath gives one colour, and white is so
+becoming. Still, I don't know why I failed. She may be a little better
+looking, but my figure is as good. I can talk better, I have learnt how
+to keep a man from feeling dull, and there is my reputation. Because I
+played at war correspondence, wore a man's clothes, and didn't shriek
+when I was under fire, people have chosen to make a heroine of me. That
+should have counted for something with him--and it didn't. I could
+have taken my choice of any man in London--and I wanted him. And I have
+failed!"
+
+She threw herself back in her easy-chair and laughed softly.
+
+"Failed! What an ugly word! He is old, and he limps, and I--well, I was
+never a very bashful person. He was beautifully polite, but he wouldn't
+have anything to say to me."
+
+She began to tear open her letters savagely.
+
+"Well, it is over. If ever anybody speaks to me about it I think that
+I shall kill them. That fool Saxe Leinitzer will stroke his beastly
+moustache, and smile at me out of the corners of his eyes. The Dorset
+woman, too--bah, I shall go away. What is it, Annette?"
+
+"His Highness the Prince of Saxe Leinitzer has called, milady."
+
+"Called! Does he regard this as a call?" she exclaimed, glancing towards
+the clock. "Tell him, Annette, that your mistress does not receive
+at such an hour. Be quick, child. Of course I know that he gave you a
+sovereign to persuade me that it was important, but I won't see him, so
+be off."
+
+"But yes, milady," Annette answered, and disappeared.
+
+Lady Carey sipped her coffee.
+
+"I think," she said reflectively, "that it must be Melton."
+
+Annette reappeared.
+
+"Milady," she exclaimed, "His Highness insisted upon my bringing you
+this card. He was so strange in his manner, milady, that I thought it
+best to obey."
+
+Lady Carey stretched out her hand. A few words were scribbled on the
+back of his visiting card in yellow crayon. She glanced at it, tore the
+card up, and threw the pieces into the fire.
+
+"My shoes and stockings, Annette," she said, "and just a morning
+wrap--anything will do."
+
+The Prince was walking restlessly up and down the room, when Lady Carey
+entered. He welcomed her with a little cry of relief.
+
+"Heavens!" he exclaimed. "I thought that you were never coming."
+
+"I was in no hurry," she answered calmly. "I could guess your news, so I
+had not even the spur of curiosity."
+
+He stopped short.
+
+"You have heard nothing! It is not possible?"
+
+She shrugged her shoulders.
+
+"No, but I know you, and I know him. I am quite prepared to hear that
+you are outwitted. Indeed, to judge from your appearance there can be no
+doubt about it. Remember I warned you."
+
+The Prince was pale with fury.
+
+"No one could foresee this," he exclaimed. "He has walked into the
+lion's den."
+
+"Then," Lady Carey said, "I am quite prepared to hear that he tamed the
+lion."
+
+"If there was one person living whom I could have sworn that this man
+dared not visit, it was our Emperor," the Prince said. "It is only a few
+years since, through this man's intrigues, Germany was shamed before the
+world."
+
+"And yet," Lady Carey said sweetly, "the Emperor has received him."
+
+"I have private intelligence from Berlin," Saxe Leinitzer answered.
+"Mr. Sabin was in possession of a letter written to him by the Emperor
+Frederick, thanking him for some service or other; and the letter was a
+talisman."
+
+"How like him," Lady Carey murmured, "to have the letter."
+
+"What a pity," the Prince sneered, "that such devotion should remain
+unrewarded."
+
+Lady Carey sighed.
+
+"He has broken my heart," she replied.
+
+The Prince threw out his hands.
+
+"You and I," he cried, "why do we behave like children! Let us start
+afresh. Listen! The Emperor has summoned me to Berlin."
+
+"Dear me," Lady Carey murmured. "I am afraid you will have a most
+unpleasant visit."
+
+"I dare not go," the Prince said slowly. "It was I who induced the
+Emperor to become the titular head of this cursed Order. Of course he
+knew nothing about the second or third degree members and our methods.
+Without doubt he is fully informed now. I dare not face him."
+
+"What shall you do?" Lady Carey asked curiously.
+
+"I am off to South America," he said. "It is a great undeveloped
+country, and there is room for us to move there. Muriel, you know what I
+want of you."
+
+"My good man," she answered, "I haven't the faintest idea."
+
+"You will come with me," he begged. "You will not send me into exile so
+lonely, a wanderer! Together there may be a great future before us. You
+have ambition, you love intrigue, excitement, danger. None of these can
+you find here. You shall come with me. You shall not say no. Have I not
+been your devoted slave? Have--"
+
+She stopped him. Her lips were parted in a smile of good-natured scorn.
+
+"Don't be absurd, Saxe Leinitzer. It is true that I love intrigue,
+excitement and danger. That is what made me join your Order, and really
+I have had quite a little excitement out of it, for which I suppose I
+ought to thank you. But as for the rest, why, you are talking rubbish.
+I would go to South America to-morrow with the right man, but with you,
+why, it won't bear talking about. It makes me angry to think that you
+should believe me capable of such shocking taste as to dream of going
+away with you."
+
+He flung himself from the room. Lady Carey went back to her coffee and
+letters. She sent for Annette.
+
+"Annette," she directed, "we shall go to Melton to-morrow. Wire Haggis
+to have the Lodge in order, and carriages to meet the midday train. I
+daresay I shall take a few people down with me. Let George go around
+to Tattershalls at once and make an appointment for me there at three
+o'clock this afternoon. Look out my habits and boots, too, Annette."
+
+Lady Carey leaned back in her chair for a moment with half-closed eyes.
+
+"I think," she murmured, "that some of us in our youth must have
+drunk from some poisoned cup, something which turned our blood into
+quicksilver. I must live, or I must die. I must have excitement every
+hour, every second, or break down. There are others too--many others.
+No wonder that that idiot of a man in Harley Street talked to me gravely
+about my heart. No excitement. A quiet life! Bah! Such wishy-washy
+coffee and only one cigarette."
+
+She lit it and stood up on the hearthrug. Her eyes were half closed,
+every vestige of colour had left her cheeks, her hand was pressed hard
+to her side. For a few minutes she seemed to struggle for breath. Then
+with a little lurch as though still giddy, she stooped, and picking up
+her fallen cigarette, thrust it defiantly between her teeth.
+
+"Not this way," she muttered. "From a horse's back if I can with the air
+rushing by, and the hot joy of it in one's heart... Only I hope it won't
+hurt the poor old gee... Come in, Annette. What a time you've been,
+child."
+
+******
+
+The Emperor sent for Mr. Sabin. He declined to recognise his incognito.
+
+"Monsieur le Duc," he said, "if proof of your story were needed it is
+here. The Prince of Saxe Leinitzer has ignored my summons. He has fled
+to South America."
+
+Mr. Sabin bowed.
+
+"A most interesting country," he murmured, "for the Prince."
+
+"You yourself are free to go when and where you will. You need no longer
+have any fears. The Order does not exist. I have crushed it."
+
+Mr. Sabin bowed.
+
+"Your Majesty," he said, "has shown exemplary wisdom."
+
+"From its inception," the Emperor said, "I believe that the idea was a
+mistaken one. I must confess that its originality pleased me; my calmer
+reflections, however, show me that I was wrong. It is not for the nobles
+of the earth to copy the methods of socialists and anarchists. These men
+are a pest upon humanity, but they may have their good uses. They may
+help us to govern alertly, vigorously, always with our eyes and ears
+strained to catch the signs of the changing times. Monsieur le Duc,
+should you decide to take up your residence in this country I shall at
+all times be glad to receive you. But your future is entirely your own."
+
+Mr. Sabin accepted his dismissal from audience, and went back to
+Lucille.
+
+"The Prince," he told her, "has gone--to South America. The Order does
+not exist any longer. Will you dine in Vienna, or in Frankfort?"
+
+She held out her arms.
+
+"You wonderful man!" she cried.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's The Yellow Crayon, by E. Phillips Oppenheim
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+   "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" >
+
+<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en">
+  <head>
+    <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" />
+    <title>
+      The Yellow Crayon, by E. Phillips Oppenheim
+    </title>
+    <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve">
+
+    body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify}
+    P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; }
+    H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; }
+    hr  { width: 50%; text-align: center;}
+    .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; }
+    blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;}
+    .mynote    {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;}
+    .toc       { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;}
+    .toc2      { margin-left: 20%;}
+    div.fig    { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; }
+    div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; }
+    .figleft   {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;}
+    .figright  {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;}
+    .pagenum   {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal;
+               margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%;
+               text-align: right;}
+    pre        { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;}
+
+</style>
+  </head>
+  <body>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Yellow Crayon, by E. Phillips Oppenheim
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Yellow Crayon
+
+Author: E. Phillips Oppenheim
+
+Release Date: November 25, 2008 [EBook #1849]
+Last Updated: October 11, 2016
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE YELLOW CRAYON ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by An Anonymous Project Gutenberg Volunteer, and David Widger
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <h1>
+      THE YELLOW CRAYON
+    </h1>
+    <p>
+      <br />
+    </p>
+    <h2>
+      By E. Phillips Oppenheim
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+    <blockquote>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big>
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        <br />
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER XX </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER XXI </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER XXII </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0023"> CHAPTER XXIII </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0024"> CHAPTER XXIV </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0025"> CHAPTER XXV </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0026"> CHAPTER XXVI </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0027"> CHAPTER XXVII </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0028"> CHAPTER XXVIII </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0029"> CHAPTER XXIX </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0030"> CHAPTER XXX </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0031"> CHAPTER XXXI </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0032"> CHAPTER XXXII </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0033"> CHAPTER XXXIII </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0034"> CHAPTER XXXIV </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0035"> CHAPTER XXXV </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0036"> CHAPTER XXXVI </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0037"> CHAPTER XXXVII </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0038"> CHAPTER XXXVIII </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0039"> CHAPTER XXXIX </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0040"> CHAPTER XL </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0041"> CHAPTER XLI </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0042"> CHAPTER XLII </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0043"> CHAPTER XLIII </a>
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        <br />
+      </p>
+    </blockquote>
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br /> <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER I
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      It was late summer-time, and the perfume of flowers stole into the
+      darkened room through the half-opened window. The sunlight forced its way
+      through a chink in the blind, and stretched across the floor in strange
+      zigzag fashion. From without came the pleasant murmur of bees and many
+      lazier insects floating over the gorgeous flower beds, resting for a while
+      on the clematis which had made the piazza a blaze of purple splendour. And
+      inside, in a high-backed chair, there sat a man, his arms folded, his eyes
+      fixed steadily upon vacancy. As he sat then, so had he sat for a whole day
+      and a whole night. The faint sweet chorus of glad living things, which
+      alone broke the deep silence of the house, seemed neither to disturb nor
+      interest him. He sat there like a man turned to stone, his forehead riven
+      by one deep line, his straight firm mouth set close and hard. His servant,
+      the only living being who had approached him, had set food by his side,
+      which now and then he had mechanically taken. Changeless as a sphinx, he
+      had sat there in darkness and in light, whilst sunlight had changed to
+      moonlight, and the songs of the birds had given place to the low murmuring
+      of frogs from a lake below the lawns.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At last it seemed that his unnatural fit had passed away. He stretched out
+      his hand and struck a silver gong which had been left within his reach.
+      Almost immediately a man, pale-faced, with full dark eyes and olive
+      complexion, dressed in the sombre garb of an indoor servant, stood at his
+      elbow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Duson.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your Grace!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bring wine&mdash;Burgundy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It was before him, served with almost incredible despatch&mdash;a small
+      cobwebbed bottle and a glass of quaint shape, on which were beautifully
+      emblazoned a coronet and fleur-de-lis. He drank slowly and deliberately.
+      When he set the glass down it was empty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Duson!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your Grace!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will pack my things and your own. We shall leave for New York this
+      evening. Telegraph to the Holland House for rooms.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For how many days, your Grace?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We shall not return here. Pay off all the servants save two of the most
+      trustworthy, who will remain as caretakers.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man&rsquo;s face was as immovable as his master&rsquo;s.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And Madame?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madame will not be returning. She will have no further use for her maid.
+      See, however, that her clothes and all her personal belongings remain
+      absolutely undisturbed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Has your Grace any further orders?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Take pencil and paper. Send this cablegram. Are you ready?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man&rsquo;s head moved in respectful assent.
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;To Felix,
+       &ldquo;No 27, Rue de St.  Pierre,
+         &ldquo;Avenue de L&rsquo;Opera, Paris.
+    &ldquo;Meet me at Sherry&rsquo;s Restaurant, New York, one month to-day, eleven
+     p.m.&mdash;V.  S.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It shall be sent immediately, your Grace. The train for New York leaves
+      at seven-ten. A carriage will be here in one hour and five minutes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man moved towards the door. His master looked up.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Duson!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your Grace!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Duc de Souspennier remains here&mdash;or at the bottom of the lake&mdash;what
+      matters! It is Mr. Sabin who travels to New York, and for whom you engage
+      rooms at the Holland House. Mr. Sabin is a cosmopolitan of English
+      proclivities.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very good, sir!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lock this door. Bring my coat and hat five minutes before the carriage
+      starts. Let the servants be well paid. Let none of them attempt to see
+      me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man bowed and disappeared. Left to himself, Mr. Sabin rose from his
+      chair, and pushing open the windows, stood upon the verandah. He leaned
+      heavily upon his stick with both hands, holding it before him. Slowly his
+      eyes traveled over the landscape.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was a very beautiful home which he was leaving. Before him stretched
+      the gardens&mdash;Italian in design, brilliant with flowers, with here and
+      there a dark cedar-tree drooping low upon the lawn. A yew hedge bordered
+      the rose-garden, a fountain was playing in the middle of a lake. A wooden
+      fence encircled the grounds, and beyond was a smooth rolling park, with
+      little belts of pine plantations and a few larger trees here and there. In
+      the far distance the red flag was waving on one of the putting greens.
+      Archie Green was strolling up the hillside,&mdash;his pipe in his mouth,
+      and his driver under his arm. Mr. Sabin watched, and the lines in his face
+      grew deeper and deeper.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am an old man,&rdquo; he said softly, &ldquo;but I will live to see them suffer who
+      have done this evil thing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He turned slowly back into the room, and limping rather more than was
+      usual with him, he pushed aside a portiere and passed into a charmingly
+      furnished country drawing-room. Only the flowers hung dead in their vases;
+      everything else was fresh and sweet and dainty. Slowly he threaded his way
+      amongst the elegant Louis Quinze furniture, examining as though for the
+      first time the beautiful old tapestry, the Sevres china, the Chippendale
+      table, which was priceless, the exquisite portraits painted by Greuze, and
+      the mysterious green twilights and grey dawns of Corot. Everywhere
+      treasures of art, yet everywhere the restraining hand of the artist. The
+      faint smell of dead rose leaves hung about the room. Already one seemed
+      conscious of a certain emptiness as though the genius of the place had
+      gone. Mr. Sabin leaned heavily upon his stick, and his head drooped lower
+      and lower. A soft, respectful voice came to him from the other room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In five minutes, sir, the carriage will be at the door. I have your coat
+      and hat here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin looked up.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am quite ready, Duson!&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      The servants in the hall stood respectfully aside to let him pass. On the
+      way to the depot he saw nothing of those who saluted him. In the car he
+      sat with folded arms in the most retired seat, looking steadfastly out of
+      the window at the dying day. There were mountains away westwards, touched
+      with golden light; sometimes for long minutes together the train was
+      rushing through forests whose darkness was like that of a tunnel. Mr.
+      Sabin seemed indifferent to these changes. The coming of night did not
+      disturb him. His brain was at work, and the things which he saw were
+      hidden from other men.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Duson, with a murmur of apology, broke in upon his meditations.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will pardon me, sir, but the second dinner is now being served. The
+      restaurant car will be detached at the next stop.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What of it?&rdquo; Mr. Sabin asked calmly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have taken the liberty of ordering dinner for you, sir. It is thirty
+      hours since you ate anything save biscuits.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin rose to his feet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are quite right, Duson,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I will dine.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In half-an-hour he was back again. Duson placed before him silently a box
+      of cigarettes and matches. Mr. Sabin smoked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Soon the lights of the great city flared in the sky, the train stopped
+      more frequently, the express men and newspaper boys came into evidence.
+      Mr. Sabin awoke from his long spell of thought. He bought a newspaper, and
+      glanced through the list of steamers which had sailed during the week.
+      When the train glided into the depot he was on his feet and ready to leave
+      it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will reserve our rooms, Duson, for one month,&rdquo; he said on the way to
+      the hotel. &ldquo;We shall probably leave for Europe a month to-morrow.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very good, sir.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You were Mrs. Peterson&rsquo;s servant, Duson, before you were mine!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have been with her, I believe, for many years. You are doubtless much
+      attached to her!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Indeed I am, sir!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You may have surmised, Duson, that she has left me. I desire to ensure
+      your absolute fidelity, so I take you into my confidence to this extent.
+      Your mistress is in the hands of those who have some power over her. Her
+      absence is involuntary so far as she is concerned. It has been a great
+      blow to me. I am prepared to run all risks to discover her whereabouts. It
+      is late in my life for adventures, but it is very certain that adventures
+      and dangers are before us. In accompanying me you will associate yourself
+      with many risks. Therefore&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Duson held up his hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I beg, sir,&rdquo; he exclaimed, &ldquo;that you will not suggest for a moment my
+      leaving your service on that account. I beg most humbly, sir, that you
+      will not do me that injustice.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin paused. His eyes, like lightning, read the other&rsquo;s face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is settled then, Duson,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Kindly pay this cabman, and follow
+      me as quickly as possible.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin passed across the marble hall, leaning heavily upon his stick.
+      Yet for all his slow movements there was a new alertness in his eyes and
+      bearing. He was once more taking keen note of everybody and everything
+      about him. Only a few days ago she had been here.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He claimed his rooms at the office, and handed the keys to Duson, who by
+      this time had rejoined him. At the moment of turning away he addressed an
+      inquiry to the clerk behind the counter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Can you tell me if the Duchess of Souspennier is staying here?&rdquo; he
+      inquired.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The young man glanced up.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Been here, I guess. Left on Tuesday.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin turned away. He did not speak again until Duson and he were
+      alone in the sitting-room. Then he drew out a five dollar bill.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Duson,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;take this to the head luggage porter. Tell him to bring
+      his departure book up here at once, and there is another waiting for him.
+      You understand?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly, sir!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin turned to enter his bed-chamber. His attention was attracted,
+      however, by a letter lying flat upon the table. He took it up. It was
+      addressed to Mr. Sabin.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is very clever,&rdquo; he mused, hesitating for a moment before opening
+      it. &ldquo;I wired for rooms only a few hours ago&mdash;and I find a letter. It
+      is the commencement.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He tore open the envelope, and drew out a single half-sheet of note-paper.
+      Across it was scrawled a single sentence only.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go back to Lenox.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was no signature, nor any date. The only noticeable thing about this
+      brief communication was that it was written in yellow pencil of a peculiar
+      shade. Mr. Sabin&rsquo;s eyes glittered as he read.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The yellow crayon!&rdquo; he muttered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Duson knocked softly at the door. Mr. Sabin thrust the letter and envelope
+      into his breast coat pocket.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER II
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is the luggage porter, sir,&rdquo; Duson announced. &ldquo;He is prepared to
+      answer any questions.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man took out his book. Mr. Sabin, who was sitting in an easy-chair,
+      turned sideways towards him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Duchess of Souspennier was staying here last week,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;She
+      left, I believe, on Thursday or Friday. Can you tell me whether her
+      baggage went through your hands?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man set down his hat upon a vacant chair, and turned over the leaves
+      of his book.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Guess I can fix that for you,&rdquo; he remarked, running his forefinger down
+      one of the pages. &ldquo;Here we are. The Duchess left on Friday, and we checked
+      her baggage through to Lenox by the New York, New Haven &amp; Hartford.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;She would probably take a carriage to the station.
+      It will be worth another ten dollars to you if you can find me the man who
+      drove her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, we ought to manage that for you,&rdquo; the man remarked encouragingly.
+      &ldquo;It was one of Steve Hassell&rsquo;s carriages, I guess, unless the lady took a
+      hansom.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very good,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said. &ldquo;See if you can find him. Keep my inquiries
+      entirely to yourself. It will pay you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That&rsquo;s all right,&rdquo; the man remarked. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t you go to bed for
+      half-an-hour, and I guess you&rsquo;ll hear from me again.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Duson busied himself in the bed-chamber, Mr. Sabin sat motionless in his
+      easy chair. Soon there came a tap at the door. The porter reappeared
+      ushering in a smart-looking young man, who carried a shiny coachman&rsquo;s hat
+      in his hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Struck it right fust time,&rdquo; the porter remarked cheerfully. &ldquo;This is the
+      man, sir.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin turned his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You drove a lady from here to the New York, New Haven &amp; Hartford
+      Depot last Friday?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, not exactly, sir,&rdquo; the man answered. &ldquo;The Duchess took my cab, and
+      the first address she gave was the New York, New Haven &amp; Hartford
+      Depot, but before we&rsquo;d driven a hundred yards she pulled the check-string
+      and ordered me to go to the Waldorf. She paid me there, and went into the
+      hotel.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have not seen her since?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, sir!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You knew her by sight, you say. Was there anything special about her
+      appearance?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man hesitated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She&rsquo;d a pretty thick veil on, sir, but she raised it to pay me, and I
+      should say she&rsquo;d been crying. She was much paler, too, than last time I
+      drove her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When was that?&rdquo; Mr. Sabin asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In the spring, sir,&mdash;with you, begging your pardon. You were at the
+      Netherlands, and I drove you out several times.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You seem,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;to be a person with some powers of
+      observation. It would pay you very well indeed if you would ascertain from
+      any of your mates at the Waldorf when and with whom the lady in question
+      left that hotel.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll have a try, sir,&rdquo; the man answered. &ldquo;The Duchess was better known
+      here, but some of them may have recognised her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She had no luggage, I presume?&rdquo; Mr. Sabin asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Her dressing-case and jewel-case only, sir.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So you see,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin continued, &ldquo;it is probable that she did not remain
+      at the Waldorf for the night. Base your inquiries on that supposition.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very good, sir.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;From your manners and speech,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, raising his head, &ldquo;I
+      should take you to be an Englishman.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Quite correct, sir,&rdquo; the man answered. &ldquo;I drove a hansom in London for
+      eight years.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will understand me then,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin continued, &ldquo;when I say that I
+      have no great confidence in the police of this country. I do not wish to
+      be blackmailed or bullied. I would ask you, therefore, to make your
+      inquiries with discretion.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll be careful, sir,&rdquo; the man answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin handed to each of them a roll of notes. The cabdriver lingered
+      upon the threshold. Mr. Sabin looked up.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Could I speak a word to you&mdash;in private, sir?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin motioned Duson to leave the room. The baggage porter had already
+      departed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When I cleaned out my cab at night, sir, I found this. I didn&rsquo;t reckon it
+      was of any consequence at first, but from the questions you have been
+      asking it may be useful to you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin took the half-sheet of note-paper in silence. It was the
+      ordinary stationery of the Waldorf Astoria Hotel, and the following words
+      were written upon it in a faint delicate handwriting, but in yellow
+      pencil:&mdash;
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+                                                  &ldquo;Sept.  10th.
+  &ldquo;To LUCILLE, Duchesse de SOUSPENNIER.&mdash;
+  &ldquo;You will be at the Waldorf Astoria Hotel in the main corridor
+   at four o&rsquo;clock this afternoon.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      The thin paper shook in Mr. Sabin&rsquo;s fingers. There was no signature, but
+      he fancied that the handwriting was not wholly unfamiliar to him. He
+      looked slowly up towards the cabman.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am much obliged to you,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;This is of interest to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He stretched out his hand to the little wad of notes which Duson had left
+      upon the table, but the cabdriver backed away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Beg pardon, sir,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;You&rsquo;ve given me plenty. The letter&rsquo;s of no
+      value to me. I came very near tearing it up, but for the peculiar colour
+      pencil it&rsquo;s written with. Kinder took my fancy, sir.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The letter is of value,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said. &ldquo;It tells me much more than I
+      hoped to discover. It is our good fortune.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man accepted the little roll of bills and departed. Mr. Sabin touched
+      the bell.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Duson, what time is it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nearly midnight, sir!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will go to bed!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very good, sir!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mix me a sleeping draught, Duson. I need rest. See that I am not
+      disturbed until ten o&rsquo;clock to-morrow morning.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER III
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      At precisely ten o&rsquo;clock on the following morning Duson brought chocolate,
+      which he had prepared himself, and some dry toast to his master&rsquo;s bedside.
+      Upon the tray was a single letter. Mr. Sabin sat up in bed and tore open
+      the envelope. The following words were written upon a sheet of the Holland
+      House notepaper in the same peculiar coloured crayon.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The first warning addressed to you yesterday was a friendly one. Profit
+      by it. Go back to Lenox. You are only exposing yourself to danger and the
+      person you seek to discomfort. Wait there, and some one shall come to you
+      shortly who will explain what has happened, and the necessity for it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin smiled, a slow contemplative smile. He sipped his chocolate and
+      lit a cigarette.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Our friends, then,&rdquo; he said softly, &ldquo;do not care about pursuit and
+      inquiries. It is ridiculous to suppose that their warning is given out of
+      any consideration to me. Duson!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My bath. I shall rise now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin made his toilet with something of the same deliberation which
+      characterised all his movements. Then he descended into the hall, bought a
+      newspaper, and from a convenient easy-chair kept a close observation upon
+      every one who passed to and fro for about an hour. Later on he ordered a
+      carriage, and made several calls down town.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At a few minutes past twelve he entered the bar of the Fifth Avenue Hotel,
+      and ordering a drink sat down at one of the small tables. The room was
+      full, but Mr. Sabin&rsquo;s attention was directed solely to one group of men
+      who stood a short distance away before the counter drinking champagne. The
+      central person of the group was a big man, with an unusually large neck, a
+      fat pale face, a brown moustache tinged with grey, and a voice and laugh
+      like a fog-horn. It was he apparently who was paying for the champagne,
+      and he was clearly on intimate terms with all the party. Mr. Sabin watched
+      for his opportunity, and then rising from his seat touched him on the
+      shoulder.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Skinner, I believe?&rdquo; he said quietly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The big man looked down upon Mr. Sabin with the sullen offensiveness of
+      the professional bully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You&rsquo;ve hit it first time,&rdquo; he admitted. &ldquo;Who are you, anyway?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin produced a card.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I called this morning,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;upon the gentleman whose name you will
+      see there. He directed me to you, and told me to come here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man tore the card into small pieces.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So long, boys,&rdquo; he said, addressing his late companions. &ldquo;See you
+      to-night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They accepted his departure in silence, and one and all favoured Mr. Sabin
+      with a stare of blatant curiosity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I should be glad to speak with you,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;in a place where we
+      are likely to be neither disturbed nor overheard.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You come right across to my office,&rdquo; was the prompt reply. &ldquo;I guess we
+      can fix it up there.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin motioned to his coachman, and they crossed Broadway. His
+      companion led him into a tall building, talking noisily all the time about
+      the pals whom he had just left. An elevator transported them to the
+      twelfth floor in little more than as many seconds, and Mr. Skinner ushered
+      his visitor into a somewhat bare-looking office, smelling strongly of
+      stale tobacco smoke. Mr. Skinner at once lit a cigar, and seating himself
+      before his desk, folded his arms and leaned over towards Mr. Sabin.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Smoke one?&rdquo; he asked, pointing to the open box.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin declined.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Get right ahead then.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am an Englishman,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said slowly, &ldquo;and consequently am not
+      altogether at home with your ways over here. I have always understood,
+      however, that if you are in need of any special information such as we
+      should in England apply to the police for, over here there is a quicker
+      and more satisfactory method of procedure.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You&rsquo;ve come a long way round,&rdquo; Mr. Skinner remarked, spitting upon the
+      floor, &ldquo;but you&rsquo;re dead right.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am in need of some information,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin continued, &ldquo;and accordingly
+      I called this morning on Mr.&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Skinner held up his hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All right,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;We don&rsquo;t mention names more than we can help. Call
+      him the boss.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He assured me that the information I was in need of was easily to be
+      obtained, and gave me a card to you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go right on,&rdquo; Mr. Skinner said. &ldquo;What is it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;On Friday last,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;at four o&rsquo;clock, the Duchess of
+      Souspennier, whose picture I will presently show you, left the Holland
+      House Hotel for the New York, New Haven &amp; Hartford Depot, presumably
+      for her home at Lenox, to which place her baggage had already been
+      checked. On the way she ordered the cabman to set her down at the
+      Waldorf-Astoria Hotel, which he did at a few minutes past four. The
+      Duchess has not returned home or been directly heard from since. I wish to
+      ascertain her movements since she arrived at the Waldorf.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sounds dead easy,&rdquo; Mr. Skinner remarked reassuringly. &ldquo;Got the picture?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin touched the spring of a small gold locket which he drew from an
+      inside waistcoat pocket, and disclosed a beautifully painted miniature.
+      Mr. Skinner&rsquo;s thick lips were pursed into a whistle. He was on the point
+      of making a remark when he chanced to glance into Mr. Sabin&rsquo;s face. The
+      remark remained unspoken.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He drew a sheet of note-paper towards him and made a few notes upon it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Duchess many friends in New York?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At present none. The few people whom she knows here are at Newport or in
+      Europe just now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Any idea whom she went to the Waldorf to see? More we know the better.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin handed him the letter which had been picked up in the cab. Mr.
+      Skinner read it through, and spat once more upon the floor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What the h&mdash;-&rsquo;s this funny coloured pencil mean?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do not know,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered. &ldquo;You will see that the two anonymous
+      communications which I have received since arriving in New York yesterday
+      are written in the same manner.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin handed him the other two letters, which Mr. Skinner carefully
+      perused.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I guess you&rsquo;d better tell me who you are,&rdquo; he suggested.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am the husband of the Duchess of Souspennier,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Duchess send any word home at all?&rdquo; Mr. Skinner asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin produced a worn telegraph form. It was handed in at Fifth
+      Avenue, New York, at six o&rsquo;clock on Friday. It contained the single word
+      &lsquo;Good-bye.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;H&rsquo;m,&rdquo; Mr. Skinner remarked. &ldquo;We&rsquo;ll find all you want to know by to-morrow
+      sure.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you make of the two letters which I received?&rdquo; Mr. Sabin asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bunkum!&rdquo; Mr. Skinner replied confidently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin nodded his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have no secret societies over here, I suppose?&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Skinner laughed loudly and derisively.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I guess not,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;They keep that sort of rubbish on the other
+      side of the pond.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin was thoughtful for a moment. &ldquo;You expect to find, then,&rdquo; he
+      remarked, &ldquo;some other cause for my wife&rsquo;s disappearance?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There don&rsquo;t seem much room for doubt concerning that, sir,&rdquo; Mr. Skinner
+      said; &ldquo;but I never speculate. I will bring you the facts to-night between
+      eight and eleven. Now as to the business side of it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin was for a moment puzzled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What&rsquo;s the job worth to you?&rdquo; Mr. Skinner asked. &ldquo;I am willing to pay,&rdquo;
+       Mr. Sabin answered, &ldquo;according to your demands.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It&rsquo;s a simple case,&rdquo; Mr. Skinner admitted, &ldquo;but our man at the Waldorf is
+      expensive. If you get all your facts, I guess five hundred dollars will
+      about see you through.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will pay that,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will bring you the letters back to-night,&rdquo; Mr. Skinner said. &ldquo;I guess
+      I&rsquo;ll borrow that locket of yours, too.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That,&rdquo; he said firmly, &ldquo;I do not part with.&rdquo; Mr. Skinner scratched his
+      ear with his penholder. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s the only scrap of identifying matter we&rsquo;ve
+      got,&rdquo; he remarked. &ldquo;Of course it&rsquo;s a dead simple case, and we can probably
+      manage without it. But I guess it&rsquo;s as well to fix the thing right down.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you will give me a piece of paper,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;I will make you a
+      sketch of the Duchess. The larger the better. I can give you an idea of
+      the sort of clothes she would probably be wearing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Skinner furnished him with a double sheet of paper, and Mr. Sabin,
+      with set face and unflinching figures, reproduced in a few simple strokes
+      a wonderful likeness of the woman he loved. He pushed it away from him
+      when he had finished without remark. Mr. Skinner was loud in its praises.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I guess you&rsquo;re an artist, sir, for sure,&rdquo; he remarked. &ldquo;This&rsquo;ll fix the
+      thing. Shall I come to your hotel?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you please,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered. &ldquo;I shall be there for the rest of the
+      day.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Skinner took up his hat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Guess I&rsquo;ll take my dinner and get right to work,&rdquo; he remarked. &ldquo;Say, you
+      come along, Mr. Sabin. I&rsquo;ll take you where they&rsquo;ll fix you such a
+      beefsteak as you never tasted in your life.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I thank you very much,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;but I must beg to be excused. I
+      am expecting some despatches at my hotel. If you are successful this
+      afternoon you will perhaps do me the honour of dining with me to-night. I
+      will wait until eight-thirty.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The two men parted upon the pavement. Mr. Skinner, with his small bowler
+      hat on the back of his head, a fresh cigar in the corner of his mouth, and
+      his thumbs in the armholes of his waistcoat, strolled along Broadway with
+      something akin to a smile parting his lips, and showing his yellow teeth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Darned old fool,&rdquo; he muttered. &ldquo;To marry a slap-up handsome woman like
+      that, and then pretend not to know what it means when she bolts. Guess
+      I&rsquo;ll spoil his supper to-night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin, however, was recovering his spirits. He, too, was leaning back
+      in the corner of his carriage with a faint smile brightening his hard,
+      stern face. But, unlike Mr. Skinner, he did not talk to himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER IV
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      R. Sabin, who was never, for its own sake, fond of solitude, had ordered
+      dinner for two at eight-thirty in the general dining-room. At a few
+      minutes previous to that hour Mr. Skinner presented himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Skinner was not in the garb usually affected by men of the world who
+      are invited to dine out. The long day&rsquo;s exertion, too, had had its effect
+      upon his linen. His front, indeed, through a broad gap, confessed to a
+      foundation of blue, and one of his cuffs showed a marked inclination to
+      escape from his wrist over his knuckles. His face was flushed, and he
+      exhaled a strong odour of cigars and cocktails. Nevertheless, Mr. Sabin
+      was very glad to see him, and to receive the folded sheet of paper which
+      he at once produced.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have taken the liberty,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin remarked, on his part, &ldquo;of adding a
+      trifle to the amount we first spoke of, which I beg you will accept from
+      me as a mark of my gratitude for your promptness.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sure!&rdquo; Mr. Skinner answered tersely, receiving the little roll of bills
+      without hesitation, and retreating into a quiet corner, where he carefully
+      counted and examined every one. &ldquo;That&rsquo;s all right!&rdquo; he announced at the
+      conclusion of his task. &ldquo;Come and have one with me now before you read
+      your little billet-doux, eh?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shall not read your report until after dinner,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;and I
+      think if you are ready that we might as well go in. At the head-waiter&rsquo;s
+      suggestion I have ordered a cocktail with the oysters, and if we are much
+      later he seemed to fear that it might affect the condition of the&mdash;I
+      think it was terrapin, he said.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Skinner stopped short. His tone betrayed emotion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did you say terrapin, sir?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin nodded. Mr. Skinner at once took his arm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Guess we&rsquo;ll go right in,&rdquo; he declared. &ldquo;I hate to have a good meal
+      spoiled.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They were an old-looking couple. Mr. Sabin quietly but faultlessly attired
+      in the usual evening dinner garb, Mr. Skinner ill-dressed, untidy,
+      unwashed and frowsy. But here at least Mr. Sabin&rsquo;s incognito had been
+      unavailing, for he had stayed at the hotel several times&mdash;as he
+      remembered with an odd little pang&mdash;with Lucille, and the
+      head-waiter, with a low bow, ushered them to their table. Mr. Skinner saw
+      the preparations for their repast, the oysters, the cocktails in tall
+      glasses, the magnum of champagne in ice, and chuckled. To take supper with
+      a duke was a novelty to him, but he was not shy. He sat down and tucked
+      his serviette into his waistcoat, raised his glass, and suddenly set it
+      down again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The boss!&rdquo; he exclaimed in amazement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin turned his head in the direction which his companion had
+      indicated. Coming hastily across the room towards them, already out of
+      breath as though with much hurrying, was a thick-set, powerful man, with
+      the brutal face and coarse lips of a prizefighter; a beard cropped so
+      short as to seem the growth of a few days only covered his chin, and his
+      moustache, treated in the same way, was not thick enough to conceal a
+      cruel mouth. He was carefully enough dressed, and a great diamond flashed
+      from his tie. There was a red mark round his forehead where his hat had
+      been, and the perspiration was streaming from his forehead. He strode
+      without hesitation to the table where Mr. Sabin and his guest were
+      sitting, and without even a glance at the former turned upon his myrmidon.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where&rsquo;s that report?&rdquo; he cried roughly. &ldquo;Where is it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Skinner seemed to have shrunk into a smaller man. He pointed across
+      the table.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve given it to him,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;What&rsquo;s wrong, boss?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The newcomer raised his hand as though to strike Skinner. He gnashed his
+      teeth with the effort to control himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You damned blithering idiot,&rdquo; he said hoarsely, gripping the side of the
+      table. &ldquo;Why wasn&rsquo;t it presented to me first?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Guess it didn&rsquo;t seem worth while,&rdquo; Skinner answered. &ldquo;There&rsquo;s nothing in
+      the darned thing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You ignorant fool, hold your tongue,&rdquo; was the fierce reply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The newcomer sank into a chair and wiped the perspiration from his
+      streaming forehead. Mr. Sabin signaled to a waiter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You seem upset, Mr. Horser,&rdquo; he remarked politely. &ldquo;Allow me to offer you
+      a glass of wine.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Horser did not immediately reply, but he accepted the glass which the
+      waiter brought him, and after a moment&rsquo;s hesitation drained its contents.
+      Then he turned to Mr. Sabin.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You said nothing about those letters you had had when you came to see me
+      this morning!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was you yourself,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin reminded him, &ldquo;who begged me not to enter
+      into particulars. You sent me on to Mr. Skinner. I told him everything.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Horser leaned over the table. His eyes were bloodshot, his tone was
+      fierce and threatening. Mr. Sabin was coldly courteous. The difference
+      between the demeanour of the two men was remarkable.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You knew what those letters meant! This is a plot! Where is Skinner&rsquo;s
+      report?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin raised his eyebrows. He signaled to the head-waiter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Be so good as to continue the service of my dinner,&rdquo; he ordered. &ldquo;The
+      champagne is a trifle too chilled. You can take it out of the cooler.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man bowed, with a curious side glance at Horser.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly, your Grace!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Horser was almost speechless with anger.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you going to answer my questions?&rdquo; he demanded thickly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have no particular objection to doing so,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered, &ldquo;but
+      until you can sit up and compose yourself like an ordinary individual, I
+      decline to enter into any conversation with you at all.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Again Mr. Horser raised his voice, and the glare in his eyes was like the
+      glare of a wild beast.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you know who I am?&rdquo; he asked. &ldquo;Do you know who you&rsquo;re talking to?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin looked at him coolly, and fingered his wineglass.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve a shocking memory for names, but yours is&mdash;Mr.
+      Horser, isn&rsquo;t it? I heard it for the first time this morning, and my
+      memory will generally carry me through four-and-twenty hours.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a moment&rsquo;s silence. Horser was no fool. He accepted his defeat
+      and dropped the bully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You&rsquo;re a stranger in this city, Mr. Sabin, and I guess you aren&rsquo;t
+      altogether acquainted with our ways yet,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;But I want you to
+      understand this. The report which is in your pocket has got to be returned
+      to me. If I&rsquo;d known what I was meddling with I wouldn&rsquo;t have touched your
+      business for a hundred thousand dollars. It&rsquo;s got to be returned to me, I
+      say!&rdquo; he repeated in a more threatening tone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin helped himself to fish, and made a careful examination of the
+      sauce.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;After all,&rdquo; he said meditatively, &ldquo;I am not sure that I was wise in
+      insisting upon a sauce piquante. I beg your pardon, Mr. Horser. Please do
+      not think me inattentive, but I am very hungry. So, I believe, is my
+      friend, Mr. Skinner. Will you not join us&mdash;or perhaps you have
+      already dined?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was an ugly flush in Mr. Horser&rsquo;s cheeks, but he struggled to keep
+      his composure.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will you give me back that report?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When I have read it, with pleasure,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered. &ldquo;Before, no.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Horser swallowed an exceedingly vicious oath. He struck the table
+      lightly with his forefinger.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Look here,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;If you&rsquo;d lived in New York a couple of years, even
+      a couple of months, you wouldn&rsquo;t talk like that. I tell you that I hold
+      the government of this city in my right hand. I don&rsquo;t want to be
+      unpleasant, but if that paper is not in my hands by the time you leave
+      this table I shall have you arrested as you leave this room, and the
+      papers taken from you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dear me,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;this is serious. On what charge may I ask
+      should I be exposed to this inconvenience?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Charge be damned!&rdquo; Mr. Horser answered. &ldquo;The police don&rsquo;t want
+      particulars from me. When I say do a thing they do it. They know that if
+      they declined it would be their last day on the force.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin filled his glass and leaned back in his chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This,&rdquo; he remarked, &ldquo;is interesting. I am always glad to have the
+      opportunity of gaining an insight into the customs of different countries.
+      I had an idea that America was a country remarkable for the amount of
+      liberty enjoyed by its inhabitants. Your proposed course of action seems
+      scarcely in keeping with this.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What are you going to do? Come, I&rsquo;ve got to have an answer.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t quite understand,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin remarked, with a puzzled look, &ldquo;what
+      your official position is in connection with the police.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Horser&rsquo;s face was a very ugly sight. &ldquo;Oh, curse my official position,&rdquo;
+       he exclaimed thickly. &ldquo;If you want proof of what I say you shall have it
+      in less than five minutes. Skinner, be off and fetch a couple of
+      constables.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I really must protest,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said. &ldquo;Mr. Skinner is my guest, and I
+      will not have him treated in this fashion, just as the terrapin is coming
+      in, too. Sit down, Mr. Skinner, sit down. I will settle this matter with
+      you in my room, Mr. Horser, after I have dined. I will not even discuss it
+      before.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Horser opened his mouth twice, and closed it again. He knew that his
+      opponent was simply playing to gain time, but, after all, he held the
+      trump card. He could afford to wait. He turned to a waiter and ordered a
+      cigar. Mr. Sabin and Mr. Skinner continued their dinner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Conversation was a little difficult, though Mr. Sabin showed no signs of
+      an impaired appetite. Skinner was white with fear, and glanced every now
+      and then nervously at his chief. Mr. Horser smoked without ceasing, and
+      maintained an ominous silence. Mr. Sabin at last, with a sigh, rose, and
+      lighting a cigarette, took his stick from the waiter and prepared to
+      leave.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I fear, Mr. Horser,&rdquo; he remarked, &ldquo;that your presence has scarcely
+      contributed to the cheerfulness of our repast. Mr. Skinner, am I to be
+      favoured with your company also upstairs?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Horser clutched that gentleman&rsquo;s arm and whispered a few words in his ear.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Skinner,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;will join us presently. What is your number?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;336,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered. &ldquo;You will excuse my somewhat slow progress.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They crossed the hall and entered the elevator. Mr. Horser&rsquo;s face began to
+      clear. In a moment or two they would be in Mr. Sabin&rsquo;s sitting-room-alone.
+      He regarded with satisfaction the other&rsquo;s slim, delicate figure and the
+      limp with which he moved. He felt that the danger was already over.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER V
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      BUT, after all, things did not exactly turn out as Mr. Horser had
+      imagined. The sight of the empty room and the closed door were
+      satisfactory enough, and he did not hesitate for a moment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Look here, sir,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;you and I are going to settle this matter
+      quick. Whatever you paid Skinner you can have back again. But I&rsquo;m going to
+      have that report.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He took a quick step forward with uplifted hand&mdash;and looked into the
+      shining muzzle of a tiny revolver. Behind it Mr. Sabin&rsquo;s face, no longer
+      pleasant and courteous, had taken to itself some very grim lines.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am a weak man, Mr. Horser, but I am never without the means of
+      self-defence,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said in a still, cold tone. &ldquo;Be so good as to sit
+      down in that easy-chair.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Horser hesitated. For one moment he stood as though about to carry out
+      his first intention. He stood glaring at his opponent, his face contracted
+      into a snarl, his whole appearance hideous, almost bestial. Mr. Sabin
+      smiled upon him contemptuously&mdash;the maddening, compelling smile of
+      the born aristocrat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sit down!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Horser sat down, whereupon Mr. Sabin followed suit.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now what have you to say to me?&rdquo; Mr. Sabin asked quietly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I want that report,&rdquo; was the dogged answer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will not have it,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered. &ldquo;You can take that for
+      granted. You shall not take it from me by force, and I will see that you
+      do not charm it out of my pocket by other means. The information which it
+      contains is of the utmost possible importance to me. I have bought it and
+      paid for it, and I shall use it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Horser moistened his dry lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will give you,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;twenty thousand dollars for its return.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin laughed softly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You bid high,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I begin to suspect that our friends on the other
+      side of the water have been more than ordinarily kind to you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will give you&mdash;forty thousand dollars.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin raised his eyebrows.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So much? After all, that sounds more like fear than anything. You cannot
+      hope to make a profitable deal out of that. Dear me! It seems only a few
+      minutes ago that I heard your interesting friend, Mr. Skinner, shake with
+      laughter at the mention of such a thing as a secret society.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Skinner is a blasted fool,&rdquo; Horser exclaimed fiercely. &ldquo;Listen here, Mr.
+      Sabin. You can read that report if you must, but, as I&rsquo;m a living man
+      you&rsquo;ll not stir from New York if you do. I&rsquo;ll make your life a hell for
+      you. Don&rsquo;t you understand that no one but a born fool would dare to
+      quarrel with me in this city? I hold the prison keys, the police are mine.
+      I shall make my own charge, whatever I choose, and they shall prove it for
+      me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This sounds very shocking,&rdquo; he remarked. &ldquo;I had no idea that the largest
+      city of the most enlightened country in the world was in such a sorry
+      plight.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, curse your sarcasm,&rdquo; Mr. Horser said. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m talking facts, and you&rsquo;ve
+      got to know them. Will you give up that report? You can find out all there
+      is in it for yourself. But I&rsquo;m going to give it you straight. If I don&rsquo;t
+      have that report back unread, you&rsquo;ll never leave New York.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin was genuinely amused.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My good fellow,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;you have made yourself a notorious person in
+      this country by dint of incessant bullying and bribing and corruption of
+      every sort. You may possess all the powers you claim. Your only mistake
+      seems to be that you are too thick-headed to know when you are
+      overmatched. I have been a diplomatist all my life,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said,
+      rising slowly to his feet, and with a sudden intent look upon his face,
+      &ldquo;and if I were to be outwitted by such a novice as you I should deserve to
+      end my days&mdash;in New York.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Horser rose also to his feet. A smile of triumph was on his lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;we&mdash; Come in! Come in!&rdquo; The door was thrown open.
+      Skinner and two policemen entered. Mr. Sabin leaned towards the wall, and
+      in a second the room was plunged in darkness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Turn on the lights!&rdquo; Skinner shouted. &ldquo;Seize him! He&rsquo;s in that corner.
+      Use your clubs!&rdquo; Horser bawled. &ldquo;Stand by the door one of you. Damnation,
+      where is that switch?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He found it with a shout of triumph. Lights flared out in the room. They
+      stared around into every corner. Mr. Sabin was not there. Then Horser saw
+      the door leading into the bed-chamber, and flung himself against it with a
+      hoarse cry of rage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Break it open!&rdquo; he cried to the policemen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They hammered upon it with their clubs. Mr. Sabin&rsquo;s quiet voice came to
+      them from the other side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pray do not disturb me, gentlemen,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I am reading.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Break it open, you damned fools!&rdquo; Horser cried. They battered at it
+      sturdily, but the door was a solid one. Suddenly they heard the key turn
+      in the lock. Mr. Sabin stood upon the threshold.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Gentlemen!&rdquo; he exclaimed. &ldquo;These are my private apartments. Why this
+      violence?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He held out the paper.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is mine,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;The information which it contains is bought and
+      paid for. But if the giving it up will procure me the privilege of your
+      departure, pray take it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Horser was purple with rage. He pointed with shaking fist to the still,
+      calm figure.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Arrest him,&rdquo; he ordered. &ldquo;Take him to the cells.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin shrugged his shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am ready,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;but it is only fair to give you this warning. I am
+      the Duke of Souspennier, and I am well known in England and France. The
+      paper which you saw me hand to the porter in the hall as we stepped into
+      the elevator was a despatch in cipher to the English Ambassador at
+      Washington, claiming his protection. If you take me to prison to-night you
+      will have him to deal with to-morrow.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Horser bore himself in defeat better than at any time during the
+      encounter. He turned to the constables.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go down stairs and wait for me in the hall,&rdquo; he ordered. &ldquo;You too,
+      Skinner.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They left the room. Horser turned to Mr. Sabin, and the veins on his
+      forehead stood out like whipcord.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know when I&rsquo;m beaten,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Keep your report, and be damned to
+      you. But remember that you and I have a score to settle, and you can ask
+      those who know me how often Dick Horser comes out underneath in the long
+      run.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He followed the others. Mr. Sabin sat down in his easy-chair with a quiet
+      smile upon his lips. Once more he glanced through the brief report. Then
+      his eyes half closed, and he sat quite still&mdash;a tired, weary-looking
+      man, almost unnaturally pale.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They have kept their word,&rdquo; he said softly to himself, &ldquo;after many years.
+      After many years!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      Duson came in to undress him shortly afterwards. He saw signs of the
+      struggle, but made no comment. Mr. Sabin, after a moment&rsquo;s hesitation,
+      took a phial from his pocket and poured a few drops into a wineglassful of
+      water.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Duson,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;bring me some despatch forms and a pencil.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin wrote for several moments. Then he placed the forms in an
+      envelope, sealed it, and handed it to Duson.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Duson,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;that fellow Horser is annoyed with me. If I should be
+      arrested on any charge, or should fail to return to the hotel within
+      reasonable time, break that seal and send off the telegrams.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin yawned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I need sleep,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Do not call me to-morrow morning until I ring.
+      And, Duson!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Campania will sail from New York somewhere about the tenth of
+      October. I wish to secure the whole of stateroom number twenty-eight. Go
+      round to the office as soon as they open, secure that room if possible,
+      and pay a deposit. No other will do. Also one for yourself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very good, sir.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER VI
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here&rsquo;s a lady inquiring for you, sir&mdash;just gone up to your room in
+      the elevator,&rdquo; the hotel clerk remarked to Mr. Sabin as he paused on his
+      way to the door to hand in his key. &ldquo;Shall I send a boy up?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin hesitated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A lady?&rdquo; he remarked tentatively.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The hotel clerk nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. I didn&rsquo;t notice the name, but she was an Englishwoman. I&rsquo;ll send
+      up.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you, I will return,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said. &ldquo;If I should miss her on the
+      way perhaps you will kindly redirect her to my rooms.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He rang for the elevator, and was swiftly transported to his own floor.
+      The door of his sitting-room was open. Duson was talking to a tall fair
+      woman, who turned swiftly round at the sound of his approach.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, they found you, then!&rdquo; she exclaimed, coming towards him with
+      outstretched hands. &ldquo;Isn&rsquo;t this a strange place and a strange country for
+      us to meet once more in?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He greeted her gallantly, but with a certain reserve, of which she was at
+      once aware.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are there any countries in the world left which are strange to so great a
+      traveler as Lady Muriel Carey?&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;The papers here have been full
+      of your wonderful adventures in South Africa.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Everything shockingly exaggerated, of course,&rdquo; she declared. &ldquo;I have
+      really been plagued to death since I got here with interviewers, and that
+      sort of person. I wonder if you know how glad I am to see you again?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are very kind, indeed,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Certainly there was no one whom I
+      expected less to see over here. You have come for the yacht races, I
+      suppose?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She looked at him with a faint smile and raised eyebrows.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;shall we lie to one another? Is it worth while? Candour
+      is so much more original.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Candour by all means then, I beg,&rdquo; he answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have come over with the Dalkeiths, ostensibly to see the yacht races.
+      Really I have come to see you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin bowed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am delightfully flattered,&rdquo; he murmured.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t exactly mean for the pleasure of gazing into your face once
+      more,&rdquo; she continued. &ldquo;I have a mission!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin looked up quickly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Great heavens! You, too!&rdquo; he exclaimed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why not?&rdquo; she asked coolly. &ldquo;I have been in it for years, you know, and
+      when I got back from South Africa everything seemed so terribly slow that
+      I begged for some work to do.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And they sent you here&mdash;to me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; she answered, &ldquo;and I was here also a few weeks ago, but you must
+      not ask me anything about that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin&rsquo;s eyebrows contracted, his face darkened. She shrank a little
+      away from him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So it is you who have robbed me of her, then,&rdquo; he said slowly. &ldquo;Yes, the
+      description fits you well enough. I ask you, Lady Carey, to remember the
+      last time when chance brought you and me together. Have I deserved this
+      from you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She made a little gesture of impotence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do be reasonable!&rdquo; she begged. &ldquo;What choice had I?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He looked at her steadfastly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The folly of women&mdash;of clever women such as you,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;is
+      absolutely amazing. You have deliberately made a slave of yourself&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;One must have distraction,&rdquo; she murmured.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Distraction! And so you play at this sort of thing. Is it worth while?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her eyes for a moment clouded over with weariness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When one has filled the cup of life to the brim for many years,&rdquo; she
+      said, &ldquo;what remains that is worth while?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He bowed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are a young woman,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;You should not yet have learned to
+      speak with such bitterness. As for me&mdash;well, I am old indeed. In
+      youth and age the affections claim us. I am approaching my second
+      childhood.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She laughed derisively, yet not unkindly. &ldquo;What folly!&rdquo; she exclaimed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are right,&rdquo; he admitted. &ldquo;I suppose it is the fault of old
+      associations.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In a few minutes,&rdquo; she said, smiling at him, &ldquo;we should have become
+      sentimental.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I,&rdquo; he admitted, &ldquo;was floundering already.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She shrugged her shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You talk as though sentiment were a bog.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There have been worse similes,&rdquo; he declared.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How horrid! And do you know, sir, for all your indignation you have not
+      yet even inquired after your wife&rsquo;s health.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I trust,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;that she is well.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She is in excellent health.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your second visit to this country,&rdquo; he remarked, &ldquo;follows very swiftly
+      upon your first.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am here,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;on your account.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You excite my interest,&rdquo; he declared. &ldquo;May I know your mission?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have to remind you of your pledge,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;to assure you of
+      Lucille&rsquo;s welfare, and to prevent your leaving the country.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Marvelous!&rdquo; he exclaimed, with a slight mocking smile. &ldquo;And may I ask
+      what means you intend to employ to keep me here?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;I have large discretionary powers. We have a very
+      strong branch over on this side, but I would very much rather induce you
+      to stay here without applying to them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And the inducements?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She took a cigarette from a box which stood on the table and lit one.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;I might appeal to your hospitality, might I not? I am
+      in a strange country which you have made your home. I want to be shown
+      round. Do you remember dining with me one night at the Ambassador&rsquo;s? It
+      was very hot, even for Paris, and we drove afterwards in the Bois. Ask me
+      to dine with you here, won&rsquo;t you? I have never quite forgotten the last
+      time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin laughed softly, but with undisguised mirth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;this is an excellent start. You are to play the Circe up
+      to date, and I am to be beguiled. How ought I to answer you? I do remember
+      the Ambassador&rsquo;s, and I do remember driving down the Bois in your
+      victoria, and holding&mdash;I believe I am right&mdash;your hand. You have
+      no right to disturb those charming memories by attempting to turn them
+      into bathos.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She blew out a little cloud of tobacco smoke, and watched it thoughtfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; she remarked. &ldquo;I wonder who is better at that, you or I? I may not
+      be exactly a sentimental person, but you&mdash;you are a flint.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;On the contrary,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin assured her earnestly, &ldquo;I am very much in
+      love with my wife.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dear me!&rdquo; she exclaimed. &ldquo;You carry originality to quixoticism. I have
+      met several men before in my life whom I have suspected of such a thing,
+      but I never heard any one confess it. This little domestic contretemps is
+      then, I presume, disagreeable to you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To the last degree,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin asserted. &ldquo;So much so that I leave for
+      England by the Campania.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She shook her head slowly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wouldn&rsquo;t if I were you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why not?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey threw away the end of her cigarette, and looked for a moment
+      thoughtfully at her long white fingers glittering with rings. Then she
+      began to draw on her gloves.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, in the first place,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;Lucille will have no time to spare
+      for you. You will be de trop in decidedly an uncomfortable position. You
+      wouldn&rsquo;t find London at all a good place to live in just now, even if you
+      ever got there&mdash;which I am inclined to doubt. And secondly, here am I&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Circe!&rdquo; he murmured.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Waiting to be entertained, in a strange country, almost friendless. I
+      want to be shown everything, taken everywhere. And I am dying to see your
+      home at Lenox. I do not think your attitude towards me in the least
+      hospitable.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come, you are judging me very quickly,&rdquo; he declared. &ldquo;What opportunities
+      have I had?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What opportunities can there be if you sail by the Campania?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You might dine with me to-night at least.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Impossible! The Dalkeiths have a party to meet me. Come too, won&rsquo;t you?
+      They love dukes&mdash;even French ones.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is no attraction for me in a large party,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;I am
+      getting to an age when to make conversation in return for a dinner seems
+      scarcely a fair exchange.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;From your host&rsquo;s point of view, or yours?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;From both! Besides, one&rsquo;s digestion suffers.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are certainly getting old,&rdquo; she declared. &ldquo;Come, I must go. You
+      haven&rsquo;t been a bit nice to me. When shall I see you again?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is,&rdquo; he answered, &ldquo;for you to say.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She looked at him for a moment thoughtfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Supposing,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;that I cried off the yacht race to-day. Would you
+      take me out to lunch?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear lady,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;it is for Circe to command&mdash;and for me to
+      obey.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you&rsquo;ll come and have tea with me afterwards at the Waldorf?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin declared, &ldquo;will add still further to my happiness.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will you call for me, then&mdash;and where shall we have lunch, and at
+      what time? I must go and develop a headache at once, or that tiresome
+      Dalkeith boy will be pounding at my door.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will call for you at the Waldorf at half-past one,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said.
+      &ldquo;Unless you have any choice, I will take you to a little place downtown
+      where we can imagine ourselves back on the Continent, and where we shall
+      be spared the horror of green corn.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Delightful,&rdquo; she murmured, buttoning her glove. &ldquo;Then you shall take me
+      for a drive to Fifth Avenue, or to see somebody&rsquo;s tomb, and my woman shall
+      make some real Russian tea for us in my sitting-room. Really, I think I&rsquo;m
+      doing very well for the first day. Is the spell beginning to work?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hideously,&rdquo; he assured her. &ldquo;I feel already that the only thing I dread
+      in life are these two hours before luncheon.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is quite as it should be. Don&rsquo;t trouble to come down with me. I
+      believe that Dalkeith pere is hanging round somewhere, and in view of my
+      headache perhaps you had better remain in the background for the moment.
+      At one-thirty, then!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin smiled as she passed out of the room, and lit a cigarette.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think,&rdquo; he said to himself, &ldquo;that the arrival of Felix is opportune.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER VII
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      They sat together at a small table, looking upon a scene which was
+      probably unique in the history of the great restaurant. The younger man
+      was both frankly interested and undoubtedly curious. Mr. Sabin, though his
+      eyes seemed everywhere, retained to the full extent that nonchalance of
+      manner which all his life he had so assiduously cultivated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is wonderful, my dear Felix,&rdquo; he said, leisurely drawing his
+      cigarette-case from his pocket, &ldquo;wonderful what good fellowship can be
+      evolved by a kindred interest in sport, and a bottle or so of good
+      champagne. But, after all, this is not to be taken seriously.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shamrock the fourth! Shamrock the fourth!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A tall young American, his thick head of hair, which had once been
+      carefully parted in the middle, a little disheveled, his hard, clean-cut
+      face flushed with enthusiasm, had risen to his feet and stood with a
+      brimming glass of champagne high over his head. Almost every one in the
+      room rose to their feet. A college boy sprang upon a table with extended
+      arms. The Yale shout split the room. The very glasses on the table
+      rattled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Columbia! Columbia!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It was an Englishman now who had leaped upon a vacant table with upraised
+      glass. There was an answering roar of enthusiasm. Every one drank, and
+      every one sat down again with a pleasant thrill of excitement at this
+      unique scene. Felix leaned back in his chair and marveled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;One would have imagined,&rdquo; he murmured, &ldquo;that America and England together
+      were at war with the rest of the world and had won a great victory. To
+      think that this is all the result of a yacht race. It is incredible!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All your life, my dear Felix,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin remarked, &ldquo;you have underrated
+      the sporting instinct. It has a great place amongst the impulses of the
+      world. See how it has brought these people together.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But they are already of the same kin,&rdquo; Felix remarked. &ldquo;Their interests
+      and aims are alike. Their destinies are surely identical.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin, who had lit his cigarette, watched the blue smoke curl upwards,
+      and was thoughtful for a moment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear Felix!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;You are very, very young. The interests of two
+      great nations such as America and England can never be alike. It is the
+      language of diplomacy, but it is also the language of fools.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Their conversation was for the moment interrupted by a fresh murmur of
+      applause, rising above the loved hum of conversation, the laughter of
+      women, and the popping of corks. A little troop of waiters had just
+      wheeled into the room two magnificent models of yachts hewn out of blocks
+      of solid ice and crowned with flowers. On the one were the Stars and
+      Stripes, on the other the Shamrock and Thistle. There was much clapping of
+      hands and cheering. Lady Carey, who was sitting at the next table with her
+      back to them, joined in the applause so heartily that a tiny gold pencil
+      attached to her bracelet became detached and rolled unobserved to Mr.
+      Sabin&rsquo;s side. Felix half rose to pick it up, but was suddenly checked by a
+      quick gesture from his companion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Leave it,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin whispered. &ldquo;I wish to return it myself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He stooped and picked it up, a certain stealthiness apparent in his
+      movement. Felix watched him in amazement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is Lady Carey&rsquo;s, is it not?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. Be silent. I will give it back to her presently.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A waiter served them with coffee. Mr. Sabin was idly sketching something
+      on the back of his menu card. Felix broke into a little laugh as the man
+      retired.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mysterious as ever,&rdquo; he remarked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin smiled quietly. He went on with his sketch.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do not want,&rdquo; Felix said, &ldquo;to seem impatient, but you must remember
+      that I have come all the way from Europe in response to a very urgent
+      message. As yet I have done nothing except form a very uncomfortable third
+      at a luncheon and tea party, and listen to a good deal of enigmatic
+      conversation between you and the charming Lady Carey. This evening I made
+      sure that I should be enlightened. But no! You have given me a wonderful
+      dinner&mdash;from you I expected it. We have eaten terrapin, canvas-back
+      duck, and many other things the names of which alone were known to me. But
+      of the reason for which you have summoned me here&mdash;I know nothing.
+      Not one word have you spoken. I am beginning to fear from your avoidance
+      of the subject that there is some trouble between you and Lucille. I beg
+      that you will set my anxiety at rest.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is reasonable,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Look here!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He turned the menu card round. On the back he had sketched some sort of a
+      device with the pencil which he had picked up, and which instead of
+      black-lead contained a peculiar shade of yellow crayon. Felix sat as
+      though turned to stone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Try,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said smoothly, &ldquo;and avoid that air of tragedy. Some of
+      these good people might be curious.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Felix leaned across the table. He pointed to the menu card.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What does that mean?&rdquo; he muttered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin contemplated it himself thoughtfully. &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I rather
+      thought that you might be able to explain that to me. I have an idea that
+      there is a society in Europe&mdash;sort of aristocratic odd-fellows, you
+      know&mdash;who had adopted it for their crest. Am I not right?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Felix looked at him steadfastly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tell me two things,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;First, why you sent for me, and secondly,
+      what do you mean&mdash;by that?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lucille,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;has been taken away from me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lucille! Great God!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She has been taken away from me,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;without a single word
+      of warning.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Felix pointed to the menu card.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By them?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By them. It was a month ago. Two days before my cable.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Felix was silent for several moments. He had not the self-command of his
+      companion, and he feared to trust himself to speech.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She has been taken to Europe,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin continued. &ldquo;I do not know, I
+      cannot even guess at the reason. She left no word. I have been warned not
+      to follow her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You obey?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I sail to-morrow.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I?&rdquo; Felix asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin looked for, a moment at the drawing on the back of the menu
+      card, and up at Felix. Felix shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You must know,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;that I am powerless.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You may be able to help me,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;without compromising
+      yourself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Impossible!&rdquo; Felix declared. &ldquo;But what did they want with Lucille?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;is what I am desirous of knowing. It is what I
+      trust that you, my dear Felix, may assist me to discover.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are determined, then, to follow her?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin helped himself to a liqueur from the bottle by his side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear Felix,&rdquo; he said reproachfully, &ldquo;you should know me better than to
+      ask me such a question.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Felix moved uneasily in his chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;it depends upon how much they want to keep you
+      apart. But you know that you are running great risks?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, no,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said. &ldquo;I scarcely thought that. I have understood
+      that the society was by no means in its former flourishing condition.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Felix laughed scornfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They have never been,&rdquo; he answered, &ldquo;richer or more powerful. During the
+      last twelve months they have been active in every part of Europe.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin&rsquo;s face hardened.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;We will try their strength.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We!&rdquo; Felix laughed shortly. &ldquo;You forget that my hands are tied. I cannot
+      help you or Lucille. You must know that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You cannot interfere directly,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin admitted. &ldquo;Yet you are
+      Lucille&rsquo;s brother, and I am forced to appeal to you. If you will be my
+      companion for a little while I think I can show you how you can help
+      Lucille at any rate, and yet run no risk.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The little party at the next table were breaking up at last. Lady Carey,
+      pale and bored, with tired, swollen eyes&mdash;they were always a little
+      prominent&mdash;rose languidly and began to gather together her
+      belongings. As she did so she looked over the back of her chair and met
+      Mr. Sabin&rsquo;s eyes. He rose at once and bowed. She cast a quick sidelong
+      glance at her companions, which he at once understood.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have the honour, Lady Carey,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;of recalling myself to your
+      recollection. We met in Paris and London not so very many years ago. You
+      perhaps remember the cardinal&rsquo;s dinner?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A slight smile flickered upon her lips. The man&rsquo;s adroitness always
+      excited her admiration.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I remember it perfectly, and you, Duke,&rdquo; she answered. &ldquo;Have you made
+      your home on this side of the water?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin shook his head slowly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Home!&rdquo; he repeated. &ldquo;Ah, I was always a bird of passage, you remember.
+      Yet I have spent three very delightful years in this country.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I,&rdquo; she said, lowering her tone and leaning towards him, &ldquo;one very
+      stupid, idiotic day.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin assumed the look of a man who denies any personal responsibility
+      in an unfortunate happening.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was regrettable,&rdquo; he murmured, &ldquo;but I assure you that it was
+      unavoidable. Lucille&rsquo;s brother must have a certain claim upon me, and it
+      was his first day in America.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She was silent for a moment. Then she turned abruptly towards the door.
+      Her friends were already on the way.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come with me,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I want to speak to you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He followed her out into the lobby. Felix came a few paces behind. The
+      restaurant was still full of people, the hum of conversation almost
+      drowning the music. Every one glanced curiously at Lady Carey, who was a
+      famous woman. She carried herself with a certain insolent indifference,
+      the national deportment of her sex and rank. The women whispered together
+      that she was &ldquo;very English.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In the lobby she turned suddenly upon Mr. Sabin.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will you take me back to my hotel?&rdquo; she asked pointedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I regret that I cannot,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;I have promised to show Felix some
+      of the wonders of New York by night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You can take him to-morrow.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To-morrow,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;he leaves for the West.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She looked closely into his impassive face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I suppose that you are lying,&rdquo; she said shortly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your candour,&rdquo; he answered coldly, &ldquo;sometimes approaches brutality.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She leaned towards him, her face suddenly softened.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We are playing a foolish game with one another,&rdquo; she murmured. &ldquo;I offer
+      you an alliance, my friendship, perhaps my help.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What can I do,&rdquo; he answered gravely, &ldquo;save be grateful&mdash;and accept?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She stopped short. It was Mr. Sabin&rsquo;s luck which had intervened. Herbert
+      Daikeith stood at her elbow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lady Carey,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;they&rsquo;re all gone but the mater and I. Forgive my
+      interrupting you,&rdquo; he added hastily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You can go on, Herbert,&rdquo; she added. &ldquo;The Duc de Souspennier will bring
+      me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin, who had no intention of doing anything of the sort, turned
+      towards the young man with a smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lady Carey has not introduced us,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;but I have seen you at
+      Ranelagh quite often. If you are still keen on polo you should have a try
+      over here. I fancy you would find that these American youngsters can hold
+      their own. All right, Felix, I am ready now. Lady Carey, I shall do myself
+      the honour of waiting upon you early to-morrow morning, as I have a little
+      excursion to propose. Good-night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She shrugged her shoulders ever so slightly as she turned away. Mr. Sabin
+      smiled&mdash;faintly amused. He turned to Felix.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;we have no time to lose.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER VIII
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I regret,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said to Felix as they sat side by side in the small
+      coupe, &ldquo;that your stay in this country will be so brief.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Indeed,&rdquo; Felix answered. &ldquo;May I ask what you call brief?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin looked out of the carriage window.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We are already,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;on the way to England.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Felix laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;is like old times.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The system of espionage here,&rdquo; he remarked, &ldquo;is painfully primitive. It
+      lacks finesse and judgment. The fact that I have taken expensive rooms on
+      the Campania, and that I have sent many packages there, that my own
+      belongings are still in my rooms untouched, seems to our friends
+      conclusive evidence that I am going to attempt to leave America by that
+      boat. They have, I believe, a warrant for my arrest on some ridiculous
+      charge which they intend to present at the last moment. They will not have
+      the opportunity.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But there is no other steamer sailing to-morrow, is there?&rdquo; Felix asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not from New York,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered, &ldquo;but it was never my intention to
+      sail from New York. We are on our way to Boston now, and we sail in the
+      Saxonia at six o&rsquo;clock to-morrow morning.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We appear to be stopping at the Waldorf,&rdquo; Felix remarked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is quite correct,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered. &ldquo;Follow me through the hall as
+      quickly as possible. There is another carriage waiting at the other
+      entrance, and I expect to find in it Duson and my dressing-case.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They alighted and made their way though the crowded vestibules. At the
+      Thirty-fourth Street entrance a carriage was drawn up. Duson was standing
+      upon the pavement, his pale, nervous face whiter than ever under the
+      electric light. Mr. Sabin stopped short.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Felix,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;one word. If by any chance things have gone wrong they
+      will not have made any arrangements to detain you. Catch the midnight
+      train to Boston and embark on the Saxonia. There will be a cable for you
+      at Liverpool. But the moment you leave me send this despatch.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Felix nodded and put the crumpled-up piece of paper in his pocket. The two
+      men passed on. Duson took off his hat, but his fingers were trembling. The
+      carriage door was opened and a tall, spare man descended.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is Mr. Sabin?&rdquo; he remarked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin bowed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is my name,&rdquo; he admitted, &ldquo;by which I have been generally called in
+      this democratic country. What is your business with me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I rather guess that you&rsquo;re my prisoner,&rdquo; the man answered. &ldquo;If you&rsquo;ll
+      step right in here we can get away quietly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The suggestion,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin remarked, &ldquo;sounds inviting, but I am somewhat
+      pressed for time. Might I inquire the nature of the charge you have
+      against me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They&rsquo;ll tell you that at the office,&rdquo; the man answered. &ldquo;Get in, please.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin looked around for Felix, but he had disappeared. He took out his
+      cigarette-case.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will permit me first to light a cigarette,&rdquo; he remarked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All right! Only look sharp.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin kept silence in the carriage. The drive was a long one. When
+      they descended he looked up at Duson, who sat upon the box.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Duson,&rdquo; he said, and his voice, though low, was terrible, &ldquo;I see that I
+      can be mistaken in men. You are a villain.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man sprung to his feet, hat in hand. His face was wrung with emotion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your Grace,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;it is true that I betrayed you. But I did it
+      without reward. I am a ruined man. I did it because the orders which came
+      to me were such as I dare not disobey. Here are your keys, your Grace, and
+      money.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin looked at him steadily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You, too, Duson?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I too, alas, your Grace!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin considered for a moment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Duson,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I retain you in my service. Take my luggage on board
+      the Campania to-morrow afternoon, and pay the bill at the hotel. I shall
+      join you on the boat.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Duson was amazed. The man who was standing by laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you take my advice, sir,&rdquo; he remarked, &ldquo;you&rsquo;ll order your clothes to
+      be sent here. I&rsquo;ve a kind of fancy the Campania will sail without you
+      to-morrow.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have my orders, Duson,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said. &ldquo;You can rely upon seeing
+      me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The detective led the way into the building, and opened the door leading
+      into a large, barely furnished office.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Chief&rsquo;s gone home for the night, I guess,&rdquo; he remarked. &ldquo;We can fix up a
+      shakedown for you in one of the rooms behind.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I thank you,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, sitting down in a high-backed wooden chair;
+      &ldquo;I decline to move until the charge against me is properly explained.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is no one here to do it just now,&rdquo; the man answered. &ldquo;Better make
+      yourself comfortable for a bit.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You detain me here, then,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;without even a sight of your
+      warrant or any intimation as to the charge against me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, the chief&rsquo;ll fix all that,&rdquo; the man answered. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t you worry.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In a magnificently furnished apartment somewhere in the neighbourhood of
+      Fifth Avenue a small party of men were seated round a card table piled
+      with chips and rolls of bills. On the sideboard there was a great
+      collection of empty bottles, spirit decanters and Vichy syphons. Mr.
+      Horser was helping himself to brandy and water with one hand and holding
+      himself up with the other. There was a knock at the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A man who was still playing looked up. He was about fifty years of age,
+      clean shaven, with vacuous eyes and a weak mouth. He was the host of the
+      party.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come in!&rdquo; he shouted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A young man entered in a long black overcoat and soft hat. He looked about
+      him without surprise, but he seemed to note Mr. Horser&rsquo;s presence with
+      some concern. The man at the table threw down his cards.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What the devil do you want, Smith?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;An important despatch from Washington has just arrived, sir. I have
+      brought it up with the codebook.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;From Washington at this time of the night,&rdquo; he exclaimed thickly. &ldquo;Come
+      in here, Smith.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He raised the curtains leading into a small anteroom, and turned up the
+      electric light. His clerk laid the message down on the table before him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here is the despatch, Mr. Mace,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;and here is the translation.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;English Ambassador demands immediate explanation of arrest of Duke
+      Souspennier at Waldorf to-night. Reply immediately what charge and
+      evidence. Souspennier naturalised Englishman.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Mace sprang to his feet with an oath. He threw aside the curtain which
+      shielded the room from the larger apartment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Horser, come here, you damned fool!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Horser, with a stream of magnificent invectives, obeyed the summons. His
+      host pointed to the message.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Read that!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Horser read and his face grew even more repulsive. A dull purple flush
+      suffused his cheeks, his eyes were bloodshot, and the veins on his
+      forehead stood out like cords. He leaned for several moments against the
+      table and steadily cursed Mr. Sabin, the government at Washington, and
+      something under his breath which he did not dare to name openly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, shut up!&rdquo; his host said at last. &ldquo;How the devil are we going to get
+      out of this?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Horser left the room and returned with a tumbler full of brandy and a
+      very little water.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Take a drink yourself,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;It&rsquo;ll steady you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I&rsquo;m steady enough,&rdquo; Mr. Mace replied impatiently. &ldquo;I want to know how
+      you&rsquo;re going to get us out of this. What was the charge, anyhow?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Passing forged bills,&rdquo; Horser answered. &ldquo;Parsons fixed it up.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Mace turned a shade paler.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where the devil&rsquo;s the sense in a charge like that?&rdquo; he answered fiercely.
+      &ldquo;The man&rsquo;s a millionaire. He&rsquo;ll turn the tables on us nicely.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We&rsquo;ve got to keep him till after the Campania sails, anyhow,&rdquo; Horser said
+      doggedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We&rsquo;re not going to keep him ten minutes,&rdquo; Mace replied. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m going to
+      sign the order for his release.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Horser&rsquo;s speech was thick with drunken fury. &ldquo;By &mdash;- I&rsquo;ll see that
+      you don&rsquo;t!&rdquo; he exclaimed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mace turned upon him angrily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You selfish fool!&rdquo; he muttered. &ldquo;You&rsquo;re not in the thing, anyhow. If you
+      think I&rsquo;m going to risk my position for the sake of one little job you&rsquo;re
+      wrong. I shall go down myself and release him, with an apology.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He&rsquo;ll have his revenge all the same,&rdquo; Horser answered. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s too late now
+      to funk the thing. They can&rsquo;t budge you. We&rsquo;ll see to that. We hold New
+      York in our hands. Be a man, Mace, and run a little risk. It&rsquo;s fifty
+      thousand.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mace looked up at him curiously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you get out of it, Horser?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Horser&rsquo;s face hardened.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not one cent!&rdquo; he declared fiercely. &ldquo;Only if I fail it might be
+      unpleasant for me next time I crossed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know!&rdquo; Mace declared weakly. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know what to do. It&rsquo;s
+      twelve hours, Horser, and the charge is ridiculous.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have me behind you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I can&rsquo;t tell them that at Washington,&rdquo; Mace said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It&rsquo;s a fact, all the same. Don&rsquo;t be so damned nervous.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mace dismissed his clerk, and found his other guests, too, on the point of
+      departure. But the last had scarcely left before a servant entered with
+      another despatch.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Release Souspennier.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mace handed it to his companion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This settles it,&rdquo; he declared. &ldquo;I shall go round and try and make my
+      peace with the fellow.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Horser stood in the way, burly, half-drunk and vicious. He struck his host
+      in the face with clenched fist. Mace went down with scarcely a groan. A
+      servant, hearing the fall, came hurrying back.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your master is drunk and he has fallen down,&rdquo; Horser said. &ldquo;Put him to
+      bed&mdash;give him a sleeping draught if you&rsquo;ve got one.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The servant bent over the unconscious man.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hadn&rsquo;t I better fetch a doctor, sir?&rdquo; he asked. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m afraid he&rsquo;s hurt.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not he!&rdquo; Horser answered contemptuously. &ldquo;He&rsquo;s cut his cheek a little,
+      that&rsquo;s all. Put him to bed. Say I shall be round again by nine o&rsquo;clock.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Horser put on his coat and left the house. The morning sunlight was
+      flooding the streets. Away down town Mr. Sabin was dozing in his
+      high-backed chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER IX
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Felix, after an uneventful voyage, landed duly at Liverpool. To his
+      amazement the first person he saw upon the quay was Mr. Sabin, leaning
+      upon his stick and smoking a cigarette.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come, come, Felix!&rdquo; he exclaimed. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t look at me as though I were a
+      ghost. You have very little confidence in me, after all, I see.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But&mdash;how did you get here?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Campania, of course. I had plenty of time. It was easy enough for
+      those fellows to arrest me, but they never had a chance of holding me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But how did you get away in time?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin sighed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was very simple,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;One day, while one of those wonderful
+      spies was sleeping on my doormat I slipped away and went over to
+      Washington, saw the English Ambassador, convinced him of my bonafides,
+      told him very nearly the whole truth. He promised if I wired him that I
+      was arrested to take my case up at once. You sent the despatch, and he
+      kept his word. I breakfasted on Saturday morning at the Waldorf, and
+      though a great dray was driven into my carriage on the way to the boat, I
+      escaped, as I always do&mdash;and here I am.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Unhurt!&rdquo; Felix remarked with a smile, &ldquo;as usual!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The driver of my carriage was killed, and Duson had his arm broken,&rdquo; he
+      said. &ldquo;I stepped out of the debris without a scratch. Come into the
+      Customs House now and get your baggage through. I have taken a coupe on
+      the special train and ordered lunch.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Before long they were on the way to London. Mr. Sabin, whilst luncheon was
+      being served, talked only of the lightest matters. But afterwards, when
+      coffee was served and he had lit a cigarette, he leaned over towards
+      Felix.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Felix,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;your sister is dear to you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She is the only creature on earth,&rdquo; Felix said, &ldquo;whom I care for. She is
+      very dear to me, indeed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Am I right,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin asked, &ldquo;in assuming that the old enmity between us
+      is dead, that the last few years has wiped away the old soreness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; Felix answered. &ldquo;I know that she was happy with you. That is enough
+      for me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You and I,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin continued, &ldquo;must work out her salvation. Do not be
+      afraid that I am going to ask you impossibilities. I know that our ways
+      must lie apart. You can go to her at once. It may be many, many months
+      before I can catch even a glimpse of her. Never mind. Let me feel that she
+      has you within the circle, and I without, with our lives devoted to her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You may rely upon that,&rdquo; Felix answered. &ldquo;Wherever she is I am going. I
+      shall be there. I will watch over her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin sighed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The more difficult task is mine,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;but I have no fear of
+      failure. I shall find her surrounded by spies, by those who are now my
+      enemies. Still, they will find it hard to shake me off. It may be that
+      they took her from me only out of revenge. If that be so my task will be
+      easier. If there are other dangers which she is called upon to face, it is
+      still possible that they might accept my service instead.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You would give it?&rdquo; Felix exclaimed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To the last drop of blood in my body,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered. &ldquo;Save for my
+      love for her I am a dead man upon the earth. I have no longer politics or
+      ambition. So the past can easily be expunged. Those who must be her
+      guiding influence shall be mine.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will win her back,&rdquo; Felix said. &ldquo;I am sure of it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am willing to pay any price on earth,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered. &ldquo;If they can
+      forget the past I can. I want you to remember this. I want her to know it.
+      I want them to know it. That is all, Felix.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin leaned back in his seat. He had left this country last a
+      stricken and defeated man, left it with the echoes of his ruined schemes
+      crashing in his ears. He came back to it a man with one purpose only, and
+      that such a purpose as never before had guided him&mdash;the love of a
+      woman. Was it a sign of age, he wondered, this return to the humanities?
+      His life had been full of great schemes, he had wielded often a gigantic
+      influence, more than once he had made history. And now the love of these
+      things had gone from him. Their fascination was powerless to quicken by a
+      single beat his steady pulse. Monarchy or republic&mdash;what did he care?
+      It was Lucille he wanted, the woman who had shown him how sweet even
+      defeat might be, who had made these three years of his life so happy that
+      they seemed to have passed in one delightful dream. Were they dead,
+      annihilated, these old ambitions, the old love of great doings, or did
+      they only slumber? He moved in his seat uneasily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At Euston the two men separated with a silent handshake. Mr. Sabin drove
+      to one of the largest and newest of the modern hotels de luxe. He entered
+      his name as Mr. Sabin&mdash;the old exile&rsquo;s hatred of using his title in a
+      foreign country had become a confirmed habit with him&mdash;and mingled
+      freely with the crowds who thronged into the restaurant at night. There
+      were many faces which he remembered, there were a few who remembered him.
+      He neither courted nor shunned observation. He sat at dinner-time at a
+      retired table, and found himself watching the people with a stir of
+      pleasure. Afterwards he went round to a famous club, of which he had once
+      been made a life member, but towards midnight he was wearied of the dull
+      decorum of his surroundings, and returning to the hotel, sought the
+      restaurant once more. The stream of people coming in to supper was greater
+      even than at dinner-time. He found a small table, and ordered some
+      oysters. The sight of this bevy of pleasure-seekers, all apparently with
+      multitudes of friends, might have engendered a sense of loneliness in a
+      man of different disposition. To Mr. Sabin his isolation was a luxury. He
+      had an uninterrupted opportunity of pursuing his favourite study.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There entered a party towards midnight, to meet whom the head-waiter
+      himself came hurrying from the further end of the room, and whose arrival
+      created a little buzz of interest. The woman who formed the central figure
+      of the little group had for two years known no rival either at Court or in
+      Society. She was the most beautiful woman in England, beautiful too with
+      all the subtle grace of her royal descent. There were women upon the stage
+      whose faces might have borne comparison with hers, but there was not one
+      who in a room would not have sunk into insignificance by her side. Her
+      movements, her carriage were incomparable&mdash;the inherited gifts of a
+      race of women born in palaces.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin, who neither shunned nor courted observation, watched her with a
+      grim smile which was not devoid of bitterness. Suddenly she saw him. With
+      a little cry of wonder she came towards him with outstretched hands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is marvelous,&rdquo; she exclaimed. &ldquo;You? Really you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He bowed low over her hands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is I, dear Helene,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;A moment ago I was dreaming. I
+      thought that I was back once more at Versailles, and in the presence of my
+      Queen.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She laughed softly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There may be no Versailles,&rdquo; she murmured, &ldquo;but you will be a courtier to
+      the end of your days.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At least,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;believe me that my congratulations come from my
+      heart. Your happiness is written in your face, and your husband must be
+      the proudest man in England.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He was standing now by her side, and he held out his hand to Mr. Sabin.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I hope, sir,&rdquo; he said pleasantly, &ldquo;that you bear me no ill-will.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It would be madness,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered. &ldquo;To be the most beautiful
+      peeress in England is perhaps for Helene a happier fate than to be the
+      first queen of a new dynasty.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you, uncle?&rdquo; Helene said. &ldquo;You are back from your exile then. How
+      often I have felt disposed to smile when I thought of you, of all men, in
+      America.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I went into exile,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered, &ldquo;and I found paradise. The three
+      years which have passed since I saw you last have been the happiest of my
+      life.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lucille!&rdquo; Helene exclaimed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is my wife,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Delightful!&rdquo; Helene murmured. &ldquo;She is with you then, I hope. Indeed, I
+      felt sure that I saw her the other night at the opera.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At the opera!&rdquo; Mr. Sabin for a moment was silent. He would have been
+      ashamed to confess that his heart was beating strongly, that a crowd of
+      eager questions trembled upon his lips. He recovered himself after a
+      moment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lucille is not with me for the moment,&rdquo; he said in measured tones. &ldquo;I am
+      detaining you from your guests, Helene. If you will permit me I will call
+      upon you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Won&rsquo;t you join us?&rdquo; Lord Camperdown asked courteously. &ldquo;We are only a
+      small party&mdash;the Portuguese Ambassador and his wife, the Duke of
+      Medchester, and Stanley Phillipson.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin rose at once.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shall be delighted,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Camperdown hesitated for a moment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I present Monsieur le Due de Souspennier, I presume?&rdquo; he remarked,
+      smiling.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin bowed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am Mr. Sabin,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;at the hotels and places where one travels. To
+      my friends I have no longer an incognito. It is not necessary.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It was a brilliant little supper party, and Mr. Sabin contributed at least
+      his share to the general entertainment. Before they dispersed he had to
+      bring out his tablets to make notes of his engagements. He stood on the
+      top of the steps above the palm-court to wish them good-bye, leaning on
+      his stick. Helene turned back and waved her hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is unchanged,&rdquo; she murmured, &ldquo;yet I fear that there must be trouble.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why? He seemed cheerful enough,&rdquo; her husband remarked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She dropped her voice a little.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lucille is in London. She is staying at Dorset House.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER X
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin was deep in thought. He sat in an easy-chair with his back to
+      the window, his hands crossed upon his stick, his eyes fixed upon the
+      fire. Duson was moving noiselessly about the room, cutting the morning&rsquo;s
+      supply of newspapers and setting them out upon the table. His master was
+      in a mood which he had been taught to respect. It was Mr. Sabin who broke
+      the silence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Duson!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your Grace!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have always, as you know, ignored your somewhat anomalous position as
+      the servant of one man and the slave of a society. The questions which I
+      am about to ask you you can answer or not, according to your own
+      apprehensions of what is due to each.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I thank your Grace!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My departure from America seemed to incite the most violent opposition on
+      the part of your friends. As you know, it was with a certain amount of
+      difficulty that I reached this country. Now, however, I am left altogether
+      alone. I have not received a single warning letter. My comings and goings,
+      although purposely devoid of the slightest secrecy, are absolutely
+      undisturbed. Yet I have some reason to believe that your mistress is in
+      London.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your Grace will pardon me,&rdquo; Duson said, &ldquo;but there is outside a gentleman
+      waiting to see you to whom you might address the same questions with
+      better results, for compared with him I know nothing. It is Monsieur
+      Felix.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why have you kept him waiting?&rdquo; Mr. Sabin asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your Grace was much absorbed,&rdquo; Duson answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Felix was smoking a cigarette, and Mr. Sabin greeted him with a certain
+      grim cordiality.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is this permitted&mdash;this visit?&rdquo; he asked, himself selecting a
+      cigarette and motioning his guest to a chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is even encouraged,&rdquo; Felix answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have perhaps some message?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;None.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am glad to see you,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said. &ldquo;Just now I am a little puzzled. I
+      will put the matter to you. You shall answer or not, at your own
+      discretion.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am ready,&rdquo; Felix declared.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You know the difficulty with which I escaped from America,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin
+      continued. &ldquo;Every means which ingenuity could suggest seemed brought to
+      bear against me. And every movement was directed, if not from here, from
+      some place in Europe. Well, I arrived here four days ago. I live quite
+      openly, I have even abjured to some extent my incognito. Yet I have not
+      received even a warning letter. I am left absolutely undisturbed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Felix looked at him thoughtfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And what do you deduce from this?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do not like it,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered drily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;After all,&rdquo; Felix remarked, &ldquo;it is to some extent natural. The very
+      openness of your life here makes interference with you more difficult, and
+      as to warning letters&mdash;well, you have proved the uselessness of
+      them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered. &ldquo;At the same time, if I were a
+      superstitious person I should consider this inaction ominous.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You must take account also,&rdquo; Felix said, &ldquo;of the difference in the
+      countries. In England the police system, if not the most infallible in the
+      world, is certainly the most incorruptible. There was never a country in
+      which security of person and life was so keenly watched over as here. In
+      America, up to a certain point, a man is expected to look after himself.
+      The same feeling does not prevail here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin assented.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And therefore,&rdquo; he remarked, &ldquo;for the purposes of your friends I should
+      consider this a difficult and unpromising country in which to work.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Other countries, other methods!&rdquo; Felix remarked laconically.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Exactly! It is the new methods which I am anxious to discover,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin
+      said. &ldquo;No glimmering of them as yet has been vouchsafed to me. Yet I
+      believe that I am right in assuming that for the moment London is the
+      headquarters of your friends, and that Lucille is here?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If that is meant for a question,&rdquo; Felix said, &ldquo;I may not answer it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yet,&rdquo; he suggested, &ldquo;your visit has an object. To discover my plans
+      perhaps! You are welcome to them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Felix thoughtfully knocked the ashes off his cigarette.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My visit had an object,&rdquo; he admitted, &ldquo;but it was a personal one. I am
+      not actually concerned in the doings of those whom you have called my
+      friends.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We are alone,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin reminded him. &ldquo;My time is yours.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You and I,&rdquo; Felix said, &ldquo;have had our periods of bitter enmity. With your
+      marriage to Lucille these, so far as I am concerned, ended for ever. I
+      will even admit that in my younger days I was prejudiced against you. That
+      has passed away. You have been all your days a bold and unscrupulous
+      schemer, but ends have at any rate been worthy ones. To-day I am able to
+      regard you with feelings of friendliness. You are the husband of my dear
+      sister, and for years I know that you made her very happy. I ask you, will
+      you believe in this statement of my attitude towards you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do not for a single moment doubt it,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will regard the advice which I am going to offer as disinterested?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then I offer it to you earnestly, and with my whole heart. Take the next
+      steamer and go back to America.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And leave Lucille? Go without making any effort to see her?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin was for a moment very serious indeed. The advice given in such a
+      manner was full of forebodings to him. The lines from the corners of his
+      mouth seemed graven into his face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Felix,&rdquo; he said slowly, &ldquo;I am sometimes conscious of the fact that I am
+      passing into that period of life which we call old age. My ambitions are
+      dead, my energies are weakened. For many years I have toiled&mdash;the
+      time has come for rest. Of all the great passions which I have felt there
+      remains but one&mdash;Lucille. Life without her is worth nothing to me. I
+      am weary of solitude, I am weary of everything except Lucille. How then
+      can I listen to such advice? For me it must be Lucille, or that little
+      journey into the mists, from which one does not return.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Felix was silent. The pathos of this thing touched him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will not dispute the right of those who have taken her from me,&rdquo; Mr.
+      Sabin continued, &ldquo;but I want her back. She is necessary to me. My purse,
+      my life, my brains are there to be thrown into the scales. I will buy her,
+      or fight for her, or rejoin their ranks myself. But I want her back.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Still Felix was silent. He was looking steadfastly into the fire.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have heard me,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have heard you,&rdquo; Felix answered. &ldquo;My advice stands.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know now,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;that I have a hard task before me. They
+      shall have me for a friend or an enemy. I can still make myself felt as
+      either. You have nothing more to say?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then let us part company,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;or talk of something more
+      cheerful. You depress me, Felix. Let Duson bring us wine. You look like a
+      death&rsquo;s head.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Felix roused himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will go your own way,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Now that you have chosen I will tell
+      you this. I am glad. Yes, let Duson bring wine. I will drink to your
+      health and to your success. There have been times when men have performed
+      miracles. I shall drink to that miracle.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Duson brought also a letter, which Mr. Sabin, with a nod towards Felix,
+      opened. It was from Helene.
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;15 Park Lane, London,
+     &ldquo;Thursday Morning.
+
+     &ldquo;My DEAR UNCLE,&mdash;
+
+     &ldquo;I want you to come to luncheon to-day.  The Princess de Catelan is
+     here, and I am expecting also Mr. Brott, the Home Secretary&mdash;our
+     one great politician, you know.  Many people say that he is the
+     most interesting man in England, and must be our next Prime Minister.
+     Such people interest you, I know.  Do come.
+
+                                                  &ldquo;Yours sincerely,
+                                                       &ldquo;HELENE.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin repeated the name to himself as he stood for a moment with the
+      letter in his hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Brott! What a name for a statesman! Well, here is your health, Felix. I
+      do not often drink wine in the morning, but&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He broke off in the middle of his sentence. The glass which Felix had been
+      in the act of raising to his lips lay shattered upon the floor, and a
+      little stream of wine trickled across the carpet. Felix himself seemed
+      scarcely conscious of the disaster. His cheeks were white, and he leaned
+      across the table towards Mr. Sabin.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What name did you say&mdash;what name?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin referred again to the letter which he held in his hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Brott!&rdquo; he repeated. &ldquo;He is Home Secretary, I believe.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you know about him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered. &ldquo;My niece, the Countess of Camperdown, asks
+      me to meet him to-day at luncheon. Explain yourself, my young friend.
+      There is a fresh glass by your side.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Felix poured himself out a glass and drank it off. But he remained silent.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Felix picked up his gloves and stick.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are asked to meet Mr. Brott at luncheon to-day?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you going?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Felix nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very good,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I should advise you to cultivate his acquaintance.
+      He is a very extraordinary man.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come, Felix,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said. &ldquo;You owe me something more lucid in the way
+      of explanations. Who is he?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A statesman&mdash;successful, ambitious. He expects to be Prime
+      Minister.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And what have I to do with him, or he with me?&rdquo; Mr. Sabin asked quietly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Felix shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I cannot tell you,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Yet I fancy that you and he may some time
+      be drawn together.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin asked no more questions, but he promptly sat down and accepted
+      his niece&rsquo;s invitation. When he looked round Felix had gone. He rang the
+      bell for Duson and handed him the note.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My town clothes, Duson,&rdquo; he ordered. &ldquo;I am lunching out.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man bowed and withdrew. Mr. Sabin remained for a few moments in deep
+      thought.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Brott!&rdquo; he repeated. &ldquo;Brott! It is a singular name.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XI
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      So this was the man! Mr. Sabin did not neglect his luncheon, nor was he
+      ever for a moment unmindful of the grey-headed princess who chatted away
+      by his side with all the vivacity of her race and sex. But he watched Mr.
+      Brott.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A man this! Mr. Sabin was a judge, and he appraised him rightly. He saw
+      through that courteous geniality of tone and gesture; the ready-made
+      smile, although it seemed natural enough, did not deceive him. Underneath
+      was a man of iron, square-jawed, nervous, forceful. Mr. Brott was probably
+      at that time the ablest politician of either party in the country. Mr.
+      Sabin knew it. He found himself wondering exactly at what point of their
+      lives this man and he would come into contact.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      After luncheon Helene brought them together.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I believe,&rdquo; she said to Mr. Brott, &ldquo;that you have never met my UNCLE. May
+      I make you formally acquainted? UNCLE, this is Mr. Brott, whom you must
+      know a great deal about even though you have been away for so long&mdash;the
+      Duc de Souspennier.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The two men bowed and Helene passed on. Mr. Sabin leaned upon his stick
+      and watched keenly for any sign in the other&rsquo;s face. If he expected to
+      find it he was disappointed. Either this man had no knowledge of who he
+      was, or those things which were to come between them were as yet unborn.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They strolled together after the other guests into the winter gardens,
+      which were the envy of every hostess in London. Mr. Sabin lit a cigarette,
+      Mr. Brott regretfully declined. He neither smoked nor drank wine. Yet he
+      was disposed to be friendly, and selected a seat where they were a little
+      apart from the other guests.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You at least,&rdquo; he remarked, in answer to an observation of Mr. Sabin&rsquo;s,
+      &ldquo;are free from the tyranny of politics. I am assuming, of course, that
+      your country under its present form of government has lost its hold upon
+      you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is a doubtful boon,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;It is true that I am practically an
+      exile. Republican France has no need of me. Had I been a soldier I could
+      still have remained a patriot. But for one whose leanings were towards
+      politics, neither my father before me nor I could be of service to our
+      country. You should be thankful,&rdquo; he continued with a slight smile, &ldquo;that
+      you are an Englishman. No constitution in the world can offer so much to
+      the politician who is strong enough and fearless enough.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Brott glanced towards his twinkling eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you happen to know what my politics are?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin hesitated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your views, I know, are advanced,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;For the rest I have been
+      abroad for years. I have lost touch a little with affairs in this
+      country.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am afraid,&rdquo; Mr. Brott said, &ldquo;that I shall shock you. You are an
+      aristocrat of the aristocrats, I a democrat of the democrats. The people
+      are the only masters whom I own. They first sent me to Parliament.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yet,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin remarked, &ldquo;you are, I understand, in the Cabinet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Brott glanced for a moment around. The Prime Minister was somewhere in
+      the winter gardens.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That,&rdquo; he declared, &ldquo;is an accident. I happened to be the only man
+      available who could do the work when Lord Kilbrooke died. I am telling you
+      only what is an open secret. But I am afraid I am boring you. Shall we
+      join the others?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not unless you yourself are anxious to,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin begged. &ldquo;It is
+      scarcely fair to detain you talking to an old man when there are so many
+      charming women here. But I should be sorry for you to think me hidebound
+      in my prejudices. You must remember that the Revolution decimated my
+      family. It was a long time ago, but the horror of it is still a live
+      thing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yet it was the natural outcome,&rdquo; Mr. Brott said, &ldquo;of the things which
+      went before. Such hideous misgovernment as generations of your countrymen
+      had suffered was logically bound to bring its own reprisal.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is truth in what you say,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin admitted. He did not want to
+      talk about the French Revolution.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are a stranger in London, are you not?&rdquo; Mr. Brott asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I feel myself one,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered. &ldquo;I have been away for a few
+      years, and I do not think that there is a city in the world where social
+      changes are so rapid. I should perhaps except the cities of the country
+      from which I have come. But then America is a universe of itself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      For an instant Mr. Brott gave signs of the man underneath. The air of
+      polite interest had left his face. He glanced swiftly and keenly at his
+      companion. Mr. Sabin&rsquo;s expression was immutable. It was he who scored, for
+      he marked the change, whilst Mr. Brott could not be sure whether he had
+      noticed it or not.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have been living in America, then?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For several years&mdash;yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is a country,&rdquo; Mr. Brott said, &ldquo;which I am particularly anxious to
+      visit. I see my chances, however, grow fewer and fewer as the years go
+      by.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For one like yourself,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;whose instincts and sympathies
+      are wholly with the democracy, a few months in America would be very well
+      spent.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you,&rdquo; Mr. Brott remarked, &ldquo;how did you get on with the people?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin traced a pattern with his stick upon the marble floor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I lived in the country,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I played golf and read and rested.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Were you anywhere near New York?&rdquo; Mr. Brott asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A few hours&rsquo; journey only,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered. &ldquo;My home was in a very
+      picturesque part, near Lenox.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Brott leaned a little forward.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You perhaps know then a lady who spent some time in that neighbourhood&mdash;a
+      Mrs. James Peterson. Her husband was, I believe, the American consul in
+      Vienna.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin smiled very faintly. His face betrayed no more than a natural
+      and polite interest. There was nothing to indicate the fact that his heart
+      was beating like the heart of a young man, that the blood was rushing hot
+      through his veins.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I know her very well. Is she in London?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Brott hesitated. He seemed a little uncertain how to continue.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To tell you the truth,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I believe that she has reasons for
+      desiring her present whereabouts to remain unknown. I should perhaps not
+      have mentioned her name at all. It was, I fancy, indiscreet of me. The
+      coincidence of hearing you mention the name of the place where I believe
+      she resided surprised my question. With your permission we will abandon
+      the subject.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You disappoint me,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said quietly. &ldquo;It would have given me much
+      pleasure to have resumed my acquaintance with the lady in question.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will, without doubt, have an opportunity,&rdquo; Mr. Brott said, glancing
+      at his watch and suddenly rising. &ldquo;Dear me, how the time goes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He rose to his feet. Mr. Sabin also rose.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Must I understand,&rdquo; he said in a low tone, &ldquo;that you are not at liberty
+      to give me Mrs. Peterson&rsquo;s address?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am not at liberty even,&rdquo; Mr. Brott answered, with a frown, &ldquo;to mention
+      her name. It will give me great pleasure, Duke, to better my acquaintance
+      with you. Will you dine with me at the House of Commons one night next
+      week?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shall be charmed,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered. &ldquo;My address for the next few
+      days is at the Carlton. I am staying there under my family name of Sabin&mdash;Mr.
+      Sabin. It is a fancy of mine&mdash;it has been ever since I became an
+      alien&mdash;to use my title as little as possible.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Brott looked for a moment puzzled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your pseudonym,&rdquo; he remarked thoughtfully, &ldquo;seems very familiar to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin shrugged his shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is a family name,&rdquo; he remarked, &ldquo;but I flattered myself that it was at
+      least uncommon.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Fancy, no doubt,&rdquo; Mr. Brott remarked, turning to make his adieux to his
+      hostess.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin joined a fresh group of idlers under the palms. Mr. Brott
+      lingered over his farewells.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your UNCLE, Lady Camperdown,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;is delightful. I enjoy meeting
+      new types, and he represents to me most perfectly the old order of French
+      aristocracy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am glad,&rdquo; Helene said, &ldquo;that you found him interesting. I felt sure you
+      would. In fact, I asked him especially to meet you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are the most thoughtful of hostesses,&rdquo; he assured her. &ldquo;By the bye,
+      your UNCLE has just told me the name by which he is known at the hotel.
+      Mr. Sabin! Sabin! It recalls something to my mind. I cannot exactly
+      remember what.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She smiled upon him. People generally forgot things when Helene smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is an odd fancy of his to like his title so little,&rdquo; she remarked. &ldquo;At
+      heart no one is prouder of their family and antecedents. I have heard him
+      say, though, that an exile had better leave behind him even his name.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sabin!&rdquo; Mr. Brott repeated. &ldquo;Sabin!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is an old family name,&rdquo; she murmured.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His face suddenly cleared. She knew that he had remembered. But he took
+      his leave with no further reference to it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sabin!&rdquo; he repeated to himself when alone in his carriage. &ldquo;That was the
+      name of the man who was supposed to be selling plans to the German
+      Government. Poor Renshaw was in a terrible stew about it. Sabin! An
+      uncommon name.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He had ordered the coachman to drive to the House of Commons. Suddenly he
+      pulled the check-string.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Call at Dorset House,&rdquo; he directed.
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin lingered till nearly the last of the guests had gone. Then he
+      led Helene once more into the winter gardens.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;May I detain you for one moment&rsquo;s gossip?&rdquo; he asked. &ldquo;I see your carriage
+      at the door.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is nothing,&rdquo; she declared. &ldquo;I must drive in the Park for an hour. One
+      sees one&rsquo;s friends, and it is cool and refreshing after these heated
+      rooms. But at any time. Talk to me as long as you will, and then I will
+      drop you at the Carlton.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is of Brott!&rdquo; he remarked. &ldquo;Ah, I thank you, I will smoke. Your
+      husband&rsquo;s taste in cigarettes is excellent.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps mine!&rdquo; she laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin shrugged his shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In either case I congratulate you. This man Brott. He interests me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He interests every one. Why not? He is a great personality.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Politically,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;the gauge of his success is of course the
+      measure of the man. But he himself&mdash;what manner of a man is he?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She tapped with her fingers upon the little table by their side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is rich,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;and an uncommon mixture of the student and the
+      man of society. He refuses many more invitations than he accepts, he
+      entertains very seldom but very magnificently. He has never been known to
+      pay marked attentions to any woman, even the scandal of the clubs has
+      passed him by. What else can I say about him, I wonder?&rdquo; she continued
+      reflectively. &ldquo;Nothing, I think, except this. He is a strong man. You know
+      that that counts for much.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin was silent. Perhaps he was measuring his strength in some
+      imagined encounter with this man. Something in his face alarmed Helene.
+      She suddenly leaned forward and looked at him more closely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;UNCLE,&rdquo; she exclaimed in a low voice, &ldquo;there is something on your mind.
+      Do not tell me that once more you are in the maze, that again you have
+      schemes against this country.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He smiled at her sadly enough, but she was reassured.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You need have no fear,&rdquo; he told her. &ldquo;With politics&mdash;I have
+      finished. Why I am here, what I am here for I will tell you very soon. It
+      is to find one whom I have lost&mdash;and who is dear to me. Forgive me if
+      for to-day I say no more. Come, if you will you shall drive me to my
+      hotel.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He offered his arm with the courtly grace which he knew so well how to
+      assume. Together they passed out to her carriage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XII
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;After all,&rdquo; Lady Carey sighed, throwing down a racing calendar and
+      lighting a cigarette, &ldquo;London is the only thoroughly civilized Anglo-Saxon
+      capital in the world. Please don&rsquo;t look at me like that, Duchess. I know&mdash;this
+      is your holy of holies, but the Duke smokes here&mdash;I&rsquo;ve seen him. My
+      cigarettes are very tiny and very harmless.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Duchess, who wore gold-rimmed spectacles, and was a person of weight
+      in the councils of the Primrose League, went calmly on with her knitting.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear Muriel,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;if my approval or disapproval was of the
+      slightest moment to you, it is not your smoking of which I should first
+      complain. I know, however, that you consider yourself a privileged person.
+      Pray do exactly as you like, but don&rsquo;t drop the ashes upon the carpet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey laughed softly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I suppose I am rather a thorn in your side as a relative,&rdquo; she remarked.
+      &ldquo;You must put it down to the roving blood of my ancestors. I could no more
+      live the life of you other women than I could fly. I must have excitement,
+      movement, all the time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A tall, heavily built man, who had been reading some letters at the other
+      end of the room, came sauntering up to them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;you assuredly live up to your principles, for you travel
+      all over the world as though it were one vast playground.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And sometimes,&rdquo; she remarked, &ldquo;my journeys are not exactly successful. I
+      know that that is what you are dying to say.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;On the contrary,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I do not blame you at all for this last
+      affair. You brought Lucille here, which was excellent. Your failure as
+      regards Mr. Sabin is scarcely to be fastened upon you. It is Horser whom
+      we hold responsible for that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Poor Horser! It was rather rough to pit a creature like that against
+      Souspennier.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man shrugged his shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Horser,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;may not be brilliant, but he had a great organisation
+      at his back. Souspennier was without friends or influence. The contest
+      should scarcely have been so one-sided. To tell you the truth, my dear
+      Muriel, I am more surprised that you yourself should have found the task
+      beyond you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey&rsquo;s face darkened.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was too soon after the loss of Lucille,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;and besides, there
+      was his vanity to be reckoned with. It was like a challenge to him, and he
+      had taken up the glove before I returned to New York.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Duchess looked up from her work.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have you had any conversation with my husband, Prince?&rdquo; she asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince of Saxe Leinitzer twirled his heavy moustache and sank into a
+      chair between the two women.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have had a long talk with him,&rdquo; he announced. &ldquo;And the result?&rdquo; the
+      Duchess asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The result I fear you would scarcely consider satisfactory,&rdquo; the Prince
+      declared. &ldquo;The moment that I hinted at the existence of&mdash;er&mdash;conditions
+      of which you, Duchess, are aware, he showed alarm, and I had all that I
+      could do to reassure him. I find it everywhere amongst your aristocracy&mdash;this
+      stubborn confidence in the existence of the reigning order of things, this
+      absolute detestation of anything approaching intrigue.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear man, I hope you don&rsquo;t include me,&rdquo; Lady Carey exclaimed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You, Lady Muriel,&rdquo; he answered, with a slow smile, &ldquo;are an exception to
+      all rules. No, you are a rule by yourself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To revert to the subject then for a moment,&rdquo; the Duchess said stiffly.
+      &ldquo;You have made no progress with the Duke?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;None whatever,&rdquo; Saxe Leinitzer admitted. &ldquo;He was sufficiently emphatic to
+      inspire me with every caution. Even now I have doubts as to whether I have
+      altogether reassured him. I really believe, dear Duchess, that we should
+      be better off if you could persuade him to go and live upon his estates.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Duchess smiled grimly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Whilst the House of Lords exists,&rdquo; she remarked, &ldquo;you will never succeed
+      in keeping Algernon away from London. He is always on the point of making
+      a speech, although he never does it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have heard of that speech,&rdquo; Lady Carey drawled, from her low seat. &ldquo;It
+      is to be a thoroughly enlightening affair. All the great social questions
+      are to be permanently disposed of. The Prime Minister will come on his
+      knees and beg Algernon to take his place.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Duchess looked up over her knitting.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Algernon is at least in earnest,&rdquo; she remarked drily. &ldquo;And he has the
+      good conscience of a clean living and honest man.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What an unpleasant possession it must be,&rdquo; Lady Carey remarked sweetly.
+      &ldquo;I disposed of my conscience finally many years ago. I am not sure, but I
+      believe that it was the Prince to whom I entrusted the burying of it. By
+      the bye, Lucille will be here directly, I suppose. Is she to be told of
+      Souspennier&rsquo;s arrival in London?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I imagine,&rdquo; the Prince said, with knitted brows, &ldquo;that it will not be
+      wise to keep it from her. It is impossible to conceal her whereabouts, and
+      the papers will very shortly acquaint her with his.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And,&rdquo; Lady Carey asked, &ldquo;how does the little affair progress?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Admirably,&rdquo; the Prince answered. &ldquo;Already some of the Society papers are
+      beginning to chatter about the friendship existing between a Cabinet
+      Minister and a beautiful Hungarian lady of title, etc., etc. The fact of
+      it is that Brott is in deadly earnest. He gives himself away every time.
+      If Lucille has not lost old cleverness she will be able to twist him
+      presently around her little finger.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If only some one would twist him on the rack,&rdquo; the Duchess murmured
+      vindictively. &ldquo;I tried to read one of his speeches the other day. It was
+      nothing more nor less than blasphemy. I do not think that I am naturally a
+      cruel woman, but I would hand such men over to the public executioner with
+      joy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille came in, as beautiful as ever, but with tired lines under her full
+      dark eyes. She sank into a low chair with listless grace.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Reginald Brott again, I suppose,&rdquo; she remarked curtly. &ldquo;I wish the man
+      had never existed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is a very cruel speech, Lucille,&rdquo; the Prince said, with a
+      languishing glance towards her, &ldquo;for if it had not been for Brott we
+      should never have dared to call you out from your seclusion.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then more heartily than ever,&rdquo; Lucille declared, &ldquo;I wish the man had
+      never been born. You cannot possibly flatter yourself, Prince, that your
+      summons was a welcome one.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He shrugged his shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shall never, be able to believe,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;that the Countess Radantz
+      was able to do more than support existence in a small American town&mdash;without
+      society, with no scope for her ambitions, detached altogether from the
+      whole civilized world.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Which only goes to prove, Prince,&rdquo; Lucille remarked contemptuously, &ldquo;that
+      you do not understand me in the least. As a place of residence Lenox would
+      compare very favourably with&mdash;say Homburg, and for companionship you
+      forget my husband. I never met the woman yet who did not prefer the
+      company of one man, if only it were the right one, to the cosmopolitan
+      throng we call society.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It sounds idyllic, but very gauche,&rdquo; Lady Carey remarked drily. &ldquo;In
+      effect it is rather a blow on the cheek for you, Prince. Of course you
+      know that the Prince is in love with you, Lucille?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wish he were,&rdquo; she answered, looking lazily out of the window.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He bent over her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I would persuade him to send me home again,&rdquo; she answered coldly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Duchess looked up from her knitting. &ldquo;Your husband has saved you the
+      journey,&rdquo; she remarked, &ldquo;even if you were able to work upon the Prince&rsquo;s
+      good nature to such an extent.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille started round eagerly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you mean?&rdquo; she cried.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your husband is in London,&rdquo; the Duchess answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille laughed with the gaiety of a child. Like magic the lines from
+      beneath her eyes seemed to have vanished. Lady Carey watched her with pale
+      cheeks and malevolent expression.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come, Prince,&rdquo; she cried mockingly, &ldquo;it was only a week ago that you
+      assured me that my husband could not leave America. Already he is in
+      London. I must go to see him. Oh, I insist upon it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Saxe Leinitzer glanced towards the Duchess. She laid down her knitting.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear Countess,&rdquo; she said firmly, &ldquo;I beg that you will listen to me
+      carefully. I speak to you for your own good, and I believe I may add,
+      Prince, that I speak with authority.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;With authority!&rdquo; the Prince echoed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We all,&rdquo; the Duchess continued, &ldquo;look upon your husband&rsquo;s arrival as
+      inopportune and unfortunate. We are all agreed that you must be kept
+      apart. Certain obligations have been laid upon you. You could not possibly
+      fulfil them with a husband at your elbow. The matter will be put plainly
+      before your husband, as I am now putting it before you. He will be warned
+      not to attempt to see or communicate with you as your husband. If he or
+      you disobey the consequences will be serious.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille shrugged her shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is easy to talk,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;but you will not find it easy to keep
+      Victor away when he has found out where I am.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince intervened.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We have no objection to your meeting,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;but it must be as
+      acquaintances. There must be no intermission or slackening in your task,
+      and that can only be properly carried out by the Countess Radantz and from
+      Dorset House.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille smothered her disappointment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dear me,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;You will find Victor a little hard to persuade.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a moment&rsquo;s silence. Then the Prince spoke slowly, and watching
+      carefully the effect of his words upon Lucille.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Countess,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;it has been our pleasure to make of your task so far
+      as possible a holiday. Yet perhaps it is wiser to remind you that
+      underneath the glove is an iron hand. We do not often threaten, but we
+      brook no interference. We have the means to thwart it. I bear no ill-will
+      to your husband, but to you I say this. If he should be so mad as to defy
+      us, to incite you to disobedience, he must pay the penalty.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A servant entered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Reginald Brott is in the small drawing-room, your Grace,&rdquo; he
+      announced. &ldquo;He enquired for the Countess Radantz.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille rose. When the servant had disappeared she turned round for a
+      moment, and faced the Prince. A spot of colour burned in her cheeks, her
+      eyes were bright with anger.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shall remember your words, Prince,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;So far from mine being,
+      however, a holiday task, it is one of the most wearisome and unpleasant I
+      ever undertook. And in return for your warnings let me tell you this. If
+      you should bring any harm upon my husband you shall answer for it all your
+      days to me. I will do my duty. Be careful that you do not exceed yours.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She swept out of the room. Lady Carey laughed mockingly at the Prince.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Poor Ferdinand!&rdquo; she exclaimed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XIII
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      He had been kept waiting longer than usual, and he had somehow the feeling
+      that his visit was ill-timed, when at last she came to him. He looked up
+      eagerly as she entered the little reception room which he had grown to
+      know so well during the last few weeks, and it struck him for the first
+      time that her welcome was a little forced, her eyes a little weary.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I haven&rsquo;t,&rdquo; he said apologetically, &ldquo;the least right to be here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At least,&rdquo; she murmured, &ldquo;I may be permitted to remind you that you are
+      here without an invitation.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The worse luck,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;that one should be necessary.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is the one hour of the day,&rdquo; she remarked, sinking into a large
+      easy-chair, &ldquo;which I devote to repose. How shall I preserve my fleeting
+      youth if you break in upon it in this ruthless manner?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If I could only truthfully say that I was sorry,&rdquo; he answered, &ldquo;but I
+      can&rsquo;t. I am here&mdash;and I would rather be here than anywhere else in
+      the world.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She looked at him with curving lips; and even he, who had watched her
+      often, could not tell whether that curve was of scorn or mirth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They told me,&rdquo; she said impressively, &ldquo;that you were different&mdash;a
+      woman-hater, honest, gruff, a little cynical. Yet those are the speeches
+      of your salad days. What a disenchantment!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The things which one invents when one is young,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;come perhaps
+      fresh from the heart in later life. The words may sound the same, but
+      there is a difference.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;you are improving. That at any rate is ingenious.
+      Suppose you tell me now what has brought you here before four o&rsquo;clock,
+      when I am not fit to be seen?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He smiled. She shrugged her shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I mean it. I haven&rsquo;t either my clothes or my manners on yet. Come,
+      explain.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I met a man who interested me,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;He comes from America, from
+      Lenox!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He saw her whiten. He saw her fingers clutch the sides of her chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;From Lenox? And his name?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Duke of Souspennier! He takes himself so seriously that he even
+      travels incognito. At the hotel he calls himself Mr. Sabin.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Indeed!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wondered whether you might not know him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I know him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And in connection with this man,&rdquo; Brott continued, &ldquo;I have something in
+      the nature of a confession to make. I forgot for a moment your request. I
+      even mentioned your name.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The pallor had spread to her cheeks, even to her lips. Yet her eyes were
+      soft and brilliant, so brilliant that they fascinated him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What did he say? What did he ask?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He asked for your address. Don&rsquo;t be afraid. I made some excuse. I did not
+      give it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      For the life of him he could not tell whether she was pleased or
+      disappointed. She had turned her shoulder to him. She was looking steadily
+      out of the window, and he could not see her face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why are you curious about him?&rdquo; she asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wish I knew. I think only because he came from Lenox.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She turned her face slowly round towards him. He was astonished to see the
+      dark rings under her eyes, the weariness of her smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Duke of Souspennier,&rdquo; she said slowly, &ldquo;is an old and a dear friend
+      of mine. When you tell me that he is in London I am anxious because there
+      are many here who are not his friends&mdash;who have no cause to love
+      him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was wrong then,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;not to give him your address.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You were right,&rdquo; she answered. &ldquo;I am anxious that he should not know it.
+      You will remember this?&rdquo; He rose and bowed over her hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This has been a selfish interlude,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I have destroyed your rest,
+      and I almost fear that I have also disturbed your peace of mind. Let me
+      take my leave and pray that you may recover both.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She shook her head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do not leave me,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I am low-spirited. You shall stay and cheer
+      me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a light in his eyes which few people would have recognised. She
+      rose with a little laugh and stood leaning towards the fire, her elbow
+      upon the broad mantel, tall, graceful, alluring. Her soft crimson gown,
+      with its wealth of old lace, fell around her in lines and curves full of
+      grace. The pallor of her face was gone now&mdash;the warmth of the fire
+      burned her cheeks. Her voice became softer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sit down and talk to me,&rdquo; she murmured. &ldquo;Do you remember the old days,
+      when you were a very timid young secretary of Sir George Nomsom, and I was
+      a maid-of-honour at the Viennese Court? Dear me, how you have changed!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Time,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;will not stand still for all of us. Yet my memory tells
+      me how possible it would be&mdash;for indeed those days seem but as
+      yesterday.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He looked up at her with a sudden jealousy. His tone shook with passion.
+      No one would have recognised Brott now. In his fiercest hour of debate,
+      his hour of greatest trial, he had worn his mask, always master of himself
+      and his speech. And now he had cast it off. His eyes were hungry, his lips
+      twitched.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As yesterday! Lucille, I could kill you when I think of those days. For
+      twenty years your kiss has lain upon my lips&mdash;and you&mdash;with you&mdash;it
+      has been different.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She laughed softly upon him, laughed more with her eyes than with her
+      lips. She watched him curiously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dear me!&rdquo; she murmured, &ldquo;what would you have? I am a woman&mdash;I have
+      been a woman all my days, and the memory of one kiss grows cold. So I will
+      admit that with me&mdash;it has been different. Come! What then?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He groaned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wonder,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;what miserable fate, what cursed stroke of fortune
+      brought you once more into my life?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She threw her head back and laughed at him, this time heartily,
+      unaffectedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What adorable candour!&rdquo; she exclaimed. &ldquo;My dear friend, how amiable you
+      are.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He looked at her steadfastly, and somehow the laugh died away from her
+      lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lucille, will you marry me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Marry you? I? Certainly not.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And why not?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For a score of reasons, if you want them,&rdquo; she answered. &ldquo;First, because
+      I think it is delightful to have you for a friend. I can never quite tell
+      what you are going to do or say. As a husband I am almost sure that you
+      would be monotonous. But then, how could you avoid it? It is madness to
+      think of destroying a pleasant friendship in such a manner.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are mocking me,&rdquo; he said sadly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;why not? Your own proposal is a mockery.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A mockery! My proposal!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; she answered steadily. &ldquo;You know quite well that the very thought
+      of such a thing between you and me is an absurdity. I abhor your politics,
+      I detest your party. You are ambitious, I know. You intend to be Prime
+      Minister, a people&rsquo;s Prime Minister. Well, for my part, I hate the people.
+      I am an aristocrat. As your wife I should be in a perfectly ridiculous
+      position. How foolish! You have led me into talking of this thing
+      seriously. Let us forget all this rubbish.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He stood before her&mdash;waiting patiently, his mouth close set, his
+      manner dogged with purpose.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is not rubbish,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;It is true that I shall be Prime Minister.
+      It is true also that you will be my wife.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She shrank back from him&mdash;uneasily. The fire in his eyes, the ring in
+      his tone distressed her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As for my politics, you do not understand them. But you shall! I will
+      convert you to my way of thinking. Yes, I will do that. The cause of the
+      people, of freedom, is the one great impulse which beats through all the
+      world. You too shall hear it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I have no wish to hear it. I do not believe in
+      what you call freedom for the people. I have discovered in America how
+      uncomfortable a people&rsquo;s country can be.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yet you married an American. You call yourself still the Countess
+      Radantz... but you married Mr. James B. Peterson!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is true, my friend,&rdquo; she answered. &ldquo;But the American in question was a
+      person of culture and intelligence, and at heart he was no more a democrat
+      than I am. Further, I am an extravagant woman, and he was a millionaire.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you, after his death, without necessity&mdash;went to bury yourself
+      in his country.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why not?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am jealous of every year of your life which lies hidden from me,&rdquo; he
+      said slowly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dear me&mdash;how uncomfortable!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Before you&mdash;reappeared,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I had learnt, yes I had learnt to
+      do without you. I had sealed up the one chapter of my life which had in it
+      anything to do with sentiment. Your coming has altered all that. You have
+      disturbed the focus of my ambitions. Lucille! I have loved you for more
+      than half a lifetime. Isn&rsquo;t it time I had my reward?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He took a quick step towards her. In his tone was the ring of mastery, the
+      light in his eyes was compelling. She shrank back, but he seized one of
+      her hands. It lay between his, a cold dead thing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What have my politics to do with it?&rdquo; he asked fiercely. &ldquo;You are not an
+      Englishwoman. Be content that I shall set you far above these gods of my
+      later life. There is my work to be done, and I shall do it. Let me be
+      judge of these things. Believe me that it is a great work. If you are
+      ambitious&mdash;give your ambitions into my keeping, and I will gratify
+      them. Only I cannot bear this suspense-these changing moods. Marry me-now
+      at once, or send me back to the old life.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She drew her fingers away, and sank down into her easy-chair. Her head was
+      buried in her hands. Was she thinking or weeping? He could not decide.
+      While he hesitated she looked up, and he saw that there was no trace of
+      tears upon her face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are too masterful,&rdquo; she said gently. &ldquo;I will not marry you. I will
+      not give myself body and soul to any man. Yet that is what you ask. I am
+      not a girl. My opinions are as dear to me in their way as yours are to
+      you. You want me to close my eyes while you drop sugar plums into my
+      mouth. That is not my idea of life. I think that you had better go away.
+      Let us forget these things.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;It shall be as you say.&rdquo; He did not wait for
+      her to ring, nor did he attempt any sort of farewell. He simply took up
+      his hat, and before she could realise his intention he had left the room.
+      Lucille sat quite still, looking into the fire.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If only,&rdquo; she murmured, &ldquo;if only this were the end.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XIV
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Duson entered the sitting-room, noiseless as ever, with pale, passionless
+      face, the absolute prototype of the perfect French servant, to whom any
+      expression of vigorous life seems to savour of presumption. He carried a
+      small silver salver, on which reposed a card.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The gentleman is in the ante-room, sir,&rdquo; he announced.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin took up the card and studied it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lord Robert Foulkes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do I know this gentleman, Duson?&rdquo; Mr. Sabin asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not to my knowledge, sir,&rdquo; the man answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You must show him in,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, with a sigh. &ldquo;In this country one
+      must never be rude to a lord.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Duson obeyed. Lord Robert Foulkes was a small young man, very carefully
+      groomed, nondescript in appearance. He smiled pleasantly at Mr. Sabin and
+      drew off his gloves.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How do you do, Mr. Sabin?&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t remember me, I daresay. Met
+      you once or twice last time you were in London. I wish I could say that I
+      was glad to see you here again.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin&rsquo;s forehead lost its wrinkle. He knew where he was now.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sit down, Lord Robert,&rdquo; he begged. &ldquo;I do not remember you, it is true,
+      but I am getting an old man. My memory sometimes plays me strange tricks.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The young man looked at Mr. Sabin and laughed softly. Indeed, Mr. Sabin
+      had very little the appearance of an old man. He was leaning with both
+      hands clasped upon his stick, his face alert, his eyes bright and
+      searching.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You carry your years well, Mr. Sabin. Yet while we are on the subject, do
+      you know that London is the unhealthiest city in the world?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am always remarkably well here,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said drily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;London has changed since your last visit,&rdquo; Lord Robert said, with a
+      gentle smile. &ldquo;Believe me if I say&mdash;as your sincere well-wisher&mdash;that
+      there is something in the air at present positively unwholesome to you. I
+      am not sure that unwholesome is not too weak a word.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is this official?&rdquo; Mr. Sabin asked quietly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The young man fingered the gold chain which disappeared in his trousers
+      pocket.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Need I introduce myself?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Quite unnecessary,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin assured him. &ldquo;Permit me to reflect for a
+      few minutes. Your visit comes upon me as a surprise. Will you smoke? There
+      are cigarettes at your elbow.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am entirely at your service,&rdquo; Lord Robert answered. &ldquo;Thanks, I will try
+      one of your cigarettes. You were always famous for your tobacco.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a short silence. Mr. Sabin had seldom found it more difficult to
+      see the way before him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I imagined,&rdquo; he said at last, &ldquo;from several little incidents which
+      occurred previous to my leaving New York that my presence here was
+      regarded as superfluous. Do you know, I believe that I could convince you
+      to the contrary.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Robert raised his eyebrows.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. dear Mr. Sabin,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;pray reflect. I am a messenger. No more! A
+      hired commissionaire!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin bowed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are an ambassador!&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The young man shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You magnify my position,&rdquo; he declared. &ldquo;My errand is done when I remind
+      you that it is many years since you visited Paris, that Vienna is as
+      fascinating a city as ever, and Pesth a few hours journey beyond. But
+      London&mdash;no, London is not possible for you. After the seventh day
+      from this London would be worse than impossible.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin smoked thoughtfully for a few moments.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lord Robert,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I have, I believe, the right of a personal
+      appeal. I desire to make it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Robert looked positively distressed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear sir,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;the right of appeal, any right of any sort,
+      belongs only to those within the circle.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Exactly,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin agreed. &ldquo;I claim to belong there.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Roberts shrugged his shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You force me to remind you,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;of a certain decree&mdash;a decree
+      of expulsion passed five years ago, and of which I presume due
+      notification was given to you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin shook his head very slowly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I deny the legality of that decree,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;There can be no such thing
+      as expulsion.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There was Lefanu,&rdquo; Lord Robert murmured.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He died,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered. &ldquo;That was reasonable enough.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your services had been great,&rdquo; Lord Robert said, &ldquo;and your fault was but
+      venial.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nevertheless,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;the one was logical, the other is not.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You claim, then,&rdquo; the young man said, &ldquo;to be still within the circle?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are aware that this is a very dangerous claim?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin smiled, but he said nothing. Lord Robert hastened to excuse
+      himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I beg your pardon,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I should have known better than to have
+      used such a word to you. Permit me to take my leave.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin rose.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I thank you, sir,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;for the courteous manner in which you have
+      discharged your mission.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Robert bowed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My good wishes,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;are yours.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin when alone called Duson to him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have you any report to make, Duson?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;None, sir!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin dismissed him impatiently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;After all, I am getting old. He is young and he is strong&mdash;a worthy
+      antagonist. Come, let us see what this little volume has to say about
+      him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He turned over the pages rapidly and read aloud.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Reginald Cyril Brott, born 18&mdash;, son of John Reginald Brott, Esq.,
+      of Manchester. Educated at Harrow and Merton College, Cambridge, M.A.,
+      LL.D., and winner of the Rudlock History Prize. Also tenth wrangler.
+      Entered the diplomatic service on leaving college, and served as junior
+      attache at Vienna.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin laid down the volume, and made a little calculation. At the end
+      of it he had made a discovery. His face was very white and set.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was at Petersburg,&rdquo; he muttered. &ldquo;Now I think of it, I heard something
+      of a young English attache. But&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He touched the bell.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Duson, a carriage!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      At Camperdown House he learned that Helene was out&mdash;shopping, the
+      hall porter believed. Mr. Sabin drove slowly down Bond Street, and was
+      rewarded by seeing her brougham outside a famous milliner&rsquo;s. He waited for
+      her upon the pavement. Presently she came out and smiled her greetings
+      upon him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You were waiting for me?&rdquo; she asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I saw your carriage.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How delightful of you. Let me take you back to luncheon.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am afraid,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;that I should be poor company. May I drive home
+      with you, at any rate, when you have finished?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course you may, and for luncheon we shall be quite alone, unless
+      somebody drops in.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He took his seat beside her in the carriage. &ldquo;Helene,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I am
+      interested in Mr. Brott. No, don&rsquo;t look at me like that. You need have no
+      fear. My interest is in him as a man, and not as a politician. The other
+      days are over and done with now. I am on the defensive and hard pressed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her face was bright with sympathy. She forgot everything except her old
+      admiration for him. In the clashing of their wills the victory had
+      remained with her. And as for those things which he had done, the cause at
+      least had been a great one. Her happiness had come to her through him. She
+      bore him no grudge for that fierce opposition which, after all, had been
+      fruitless.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I believe you, UNCLE,&rdquo; she said affectionately. &ldquo;If I can help you in any
+      way I will.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This Mr. Brott! He goes very little into society, I believe.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Scarcely ever,&rdquo; she answered. &ldquo;He came to us because my husband is one of
+      the few Radical peers.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have not heard of any recent change in him&mdash;in this respect?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I did hear Wolfendon chaffing him the other day about somebody,&rdquo;
+       she said. &ldquo;Oh, I know. He has been going often to the Duchess of Dorset&rsquo;s.
+      He is such an ultra Radical, you know, and the Dorsets are fierce Tories.
+      Wolfendon says it is a most unwise thing for a good Radical who wants to
+      retain the confidence of the people to be seen about with a Duchess.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Duchess of Dorset,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin remarked, &ldquo;must be, well&mdash;a
+      middle-aged woman.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Helene laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She is sixty if she is a day. But I daresay she herself is not the
+      attraction. There is a very beautiful woman staying with her&mdash;the
+      Countess Radantz. A Hungarian, I believe.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin sat quite still. His face was turned away from Helene. She
+      herself was smiling out of the window at some acquaintances.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wonder if there is anything more that I can tell you?&rdquo; she asked
+      presently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He turned towards her with a faint smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have told me,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;all that I want to know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She was struck by the change in his face, the quietness of his tone was
+      ominous.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Am I meant to understand?&rdquo; she said dubiously &ldquo;because I don&rsquo;t in the
+      least. It seems to me that have told you nothing. I cannot imagine what
+      Mr. Brott and you have in common.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If your invitation to lunch still holds good,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;may I accept it?
+      Afterwards, if you can spare me a few minutes I will make things quite
+      clear to you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will find,&rdquo; she declared, &ldquo;that I shall leave you little peace for
+      luncheon. I am consumed with curiosity.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XV
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Nevertheless, Mr. Sabin lunched with discretion, as usual, but with no
+      lack of appetite. It chanced that they were alone. Lord Camperdown was
+      down in the Midlands for a day&rsquo;s hunting, and Helene had ensured their
+      seclusion from any one who might drop in by a whispered word to the hall
+      porter as they passed into the house. It seemed to her that she had never
+      found Mr. Sabin more entertaining, had never more appreciated his rare
+      gift of effortless and anecdotal conversation. What a marvelous memory! He
+      knew something of every country from the inside. He had been brought at
+      various times during his long diplomatic career into contact with most of
+      the interesting people in the world. He knew well how to separate the
+      grain from the chaff according to the tastes of his listener. The pathos
+      of his present position appealed to her irresistibly. The possibilities of
+      his life had been so great, fortune had treated him always so strangely.
+      The greatest of his schemes had come so near to success, the luck had
+      turned against him only at the very moment of fruition. Helene felt very
+      kindly towards her UNCLE as she led him, after luncheon, to a quiet corner
+      of the winter garden, where a servant had already arranged a table with
+      coffee and liqueurs and cigarettes. Unscrupulous all his life, there had
+      been an element of greatness in all his schemes. Even his failures had
+      been magnificent, for his successes he himself had seldom reaped the
+      reward. And now in the autumn of his days she felt dimly that he was
+      threatened with some evil thing against which he stood at bay
+      single-handed, likely perhaps to be overpowered. For there was something
+      in his face just now which was strange to her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Helene,&rdquo; he said quietly, &ldquo;I suppose that you, who knew nothing of me
+      till you left school, have looked upon me always as a selfish, passionless
+      creature&mdash;a weaver of plots, perhaps sometimes a dreamer of dreams,
+      but a person wholly self-centred, always self-engrossed?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She shook her head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not selfish!&rdquo; she objected. &ldquo;No, I never thought that. It is the wrong
+      word.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At least,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;you will be surprised to hear that I have loved one
+      woman all my life.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She looked at him half doubtfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;I am surprised to hear that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will surprise you still more. I was married to her in America within a
+      month of my arrival there. We have lived together ever since. And I have
+      been very happy. I speak, of course, of Lucille!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is amazing,&rdquo; she murmured. &ldquo;You must tell me all about it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not all,&rdquo; he answered sadly. &ldquo;Only this. I met her first at Vienna when I
+      was thirty-five, and she was eighteen. I treated her shamefully. Marriage
+      seemed to me, with all my dreams of great achievements, an act of madness.
+      I believed in myself and my career. I believed that it was my destiny to
+      restore the monarchy to our beloved country. And I wanted to be free. I
+      think that I saw myself a second Napoleon. So I won her love, took all
+      that she had to give, and returned nothing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In the course of years she married the son of the American Consul at
+      Vienna. I was obliged, by the bye, to fight her brother, and he carried
+      his enmity to me through life. I saw her sometimes in the course of years.
+      She was always beautiful, always surrounded by a host of admirers, always
+      cold. When the end of my great plans here came, and I myself was a
+      fugitive, her brother found me out. He gave me a letter to deliver in
+      America. I delivered it&mdash;to his sister.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She was as beautiful as ever, and alone in the world. It seemed to me
+      that I realised then how great my folly had been. For always I had loved
+      her, always there had been that jealously locked little chamber in my
+      life. Helene, she pointed no finger of scorn to my broken life. She
+      uttered no reproaches. She took me as I was, and for three years our life
+      together has been to me one long unbroken harmony. Our tastes were very
+      similar. She was well read, receptive, a charming companion. Ennui was a
+      word of which I have forgotten the meaning. And it seemed so with her,
+      too, for she grew younger and more beautiful.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And why is she not with you?&rdquo; Helene cried. &ldquo;I must go and see her. How
+      delightful it sounds!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;One day, about three months ago,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin continued, &ldquo;she left me to go
+      to New York for two days. Her milliner in Paris had sent over, and twice a
+      year Lucille used to buy clothes. I had sometimes accompanied her, but she
+      knew how I detested New York, and this time she did not press me to go.
+      She left me in the highest spirits, as tender and gracefully affectionate
+      as ever. She never returned.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Helene started in her chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, UNCLE!&rdquo; she cried.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have never seen her since,&rdquo; he repeated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have you no clue? She could not have left you willingly. Have you no idea
+      where she is?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He bowed his head slowly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I know where she is. She came to Europe with Lady Carey.
+      She is staying with the Duchess of Dorset.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Countess Radantz?&rdquo; Helene cried.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was her maiden name,&rdquo; he answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a moment&rsquo;s silence. Helene was bewildered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then you have seen her?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He shook his head slowly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No. I did not even know where she was until you told me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But why do you wait a single moment?&rdquo; she asked. &ldquo;There must be some
+      explanation. Let me order a carriage now. I will drive round to Dorset
+      House with you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She half rose. He held out his hand and checked her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There are other things to be explained,&rdquo; he said quickly. &ldquo;Sit down,
+      Helene.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She obeyed him, mystified.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For your own sake,&rdquo; he continued, &ldquo;there are certain facts in connection
+      with this matter which I must withhold. All I can tell you is this. There
+      are people who have acquired a hold upon Lucille so great that she is
+      forced to obey their bidding. Lady Carey is one, the Duchess of Dorset is
+      another. They are no friends of mine, and apparently Lucille has been
+      taken away from me by them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A&mdash;a hold upon her?&rdquo; Helene repeated vaguely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is all I can tell you. You must suppose an extreme case. You may take
+      my word for it that under certain circumstances Lucille would have no
+      power to deny them anything.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But&mdash;without a word of farewell. They could not insist upon her
+      leaving you like that! It is incredible!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is quite possible,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Helene caught herself looking at him stealthily. Was it possible that this
+      wonderful brain had given way at last? There were no signs of it in his
+      face or expression. But the Duchess of Dorset! Lady Carey! These were
+      women of her own circle&mdash;Londoners, and the Duchess, at any rate, a
+      woman of the very highest social position and unimpeached conventionality.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This sounds&mdash;very extraordinary, UNCLE!&rdquo; she remarked a little
+      lamely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is extraordinary,&rdquo; he answered drily. &ldquo;I do not wonder that you find
+      it hard to believe me. I&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not to believe&mdash;to understand!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We will not distinguish! After all, what does it matter? Assume, if you
+      cannot believe, that Lucille&rsquo;s leaving me may have been at the instigation
+      of these people, and therefore involuntary. If this be so I have hard
+      battle to fight to win her back, but in the end I shall do it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She nodded sympathetically.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am sure,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;that you will not find it difficult. Tell me,
+      cannot I help you in any way? I know the Duchess very well indeed&mdash;well
+      enough to take you to call quite informally if you please. She is a great
+      supporter of what they call the Primrose League here. I do not understand
+      what it is all about, but it seems that I may not join because my husband
+      is a Radical.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin looked for a moment over his clasped hands through the faint
+      blue cloud of cigarette smoke, and sundry possibilities flashed through
+      his mind to be at once rejected. He shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No!&rdquo; he said firmly. &ldquo;I do not wish for your help at present, directly or
+      indirectly. If you meet the Countess I would rather that you did not
+      mention my name. There is only one person whom, if you met at Dorset House
+      or anywhere where Lucille is, I would ask you to watch. That is Mr.
+      Brott!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It was to be a conversation full of surprises for Helene. Mr. Brott! Her
+      hand went up to her forehead for a moment, and a little gesture of
+      bewilderment escaped her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will you tell me,&rdquo; she asked almost plaintively, &ldquo;what on earth Mr. Brott
+      can have to do with this business&mdash;with Lucille&mdash;with you&mdash;with
+      any one connected with it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin shrugged his shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Brott,&rdquo; he remarked, &ldquo;a Cabinet Minister of marked Radical
+      proclivities, has lately been a frequent visitor at Dorset House, which is
+      the very home of the old aristocratic Toryism. Mr. Brott was acquainted
+      with Lucille many years ago&mdash;in Vienna. At that time he was, I
+      believe, deeply interested in her. I must confess that Mr. Brott causes me
+      some uneasiness.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think&mdash;that men always know,&rdquo; Helene said, &ldquo;if they care to. Was
+      Lucille happy with you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Absolutely. I am sure of it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then your first assumption must be correct,&rdquo; she declared. &ldquo;You cannot
+      explain things to me, so I cannot help you even with my advice. I am
+      sorry.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He turned his head towards her and regarded her critically, as though
+      making some test of her sincerity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Helene,&rdquo; he said gravely, &ldquo;it is for your own sake that I do not explain
+      further, that I do not make things clearer to you. Only I wanted you to
+      understand why I once more set foot in Europe. I wanted you to understand
+      why I am here. It is to win back Lucille. It is like that with me, Helene.
+      I, who once schemed and plotted for an empire, am once more a schemer and
+      a worker, but for no other purpose than to recover possession of the woman
+      whom I love. You do not recognise me, Helene. I do not recognise myself.
+      Nevertheless, I would have you know the truth. I am here for that, and for
+      no other purpose.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He rose slowly to his feet. She held out both her hands and grasped his.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let me help you,&rdquo; she begged. &ldquo;Do! This is not a matter of politics or
+      anything compromising. I am sure that I could be useful to you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So you can,&rdquo; he answered quietly. &ldquo;Do as I have asked you. Watch Mr.
+      Brott!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XVI
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Brott and Mr. Sabin dined together&mdash;not, as it happened, at the
+      House of Commons, but at the former&rsquo;s club in Pall Mall. For Mr. Sabin it
+      was not altogether an enjoyable meal. The club was large, gloomy and
+      political; the cooking was exactly of that order which such surroundings
+      seemed to require. Nor was Mr. Brott a particularly brilliant host. Yet
+      his guest derived a certain amount of pleasure from the entertainment,
+      owing to Brott&rsquo;s constant endeavours to bring the conversation round to
+      Lucille.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I find,&rdquo; he said, as they lit their cigarettes, &ldquo;that I committed an
+      indiscretion the other day at Camperdown House!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin assumed the puzzled air of one endeavouring to pin down an
+      elusive memory.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let me see,&rdquo; he murmured doubtfully. &ldquo;It was in connection with&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Countess Radantz. If you remember, I told you that it was her desire
+      just now to remain incognito. I, however, unfortunately forgot this during
+      the course of our conversation.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I remember. You told me where she was staying. But the Countess and
+      I are old acquaintances. I feel sure that she did not object to your
+      having given me her address. I could not possibly leave London without
+      calling upon her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Brott moved in his chair uneasily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It seems presumption on my part to make such a suggestion perhaps,&rdquo; he
+      said slowly, &ldquo;but I really believe that the Countess is in earnest with
+      reference to her desire for seclusion just at present. I believe that she
+      is really very anxious that her presence in London, just now should not be
+      generally known.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am such a very old friend,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said. &ldquo;I knew her when she was a
+      child.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Brott nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is very strange,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;that you should have come together again
+      in such a country as America, and in a small town too.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lenox,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;is a small place, but a great center. By the
+      bye, is there not some question of an impending marriage on the part of
+      the Countess?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have heard&mdash;of nothing of the sort,&rdquo; Mr. Brott said, looking up
+      startled. Then, after a moment&rsquo;s pause, during which he studied closely
+      his companion&rsquo;s imperturbable face, he added the question which forced its
+      way to his lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin looked along his cigarette and pinched it affectionately. It was
+      one of his own, which he had dexterously substituted for those which his
+      host had placed at his disposal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Countess is a very charming, a very beautiful, and a most attractive
+      woman,&rdquo; he said slowly. &ldquo;Her marriage has always seemed to me a matter of
+      certainty.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Brott hesitated, and was lost.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are an old friend of hers,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;You perhaps know more of her
+      recent history than I do. For a time she seemed to drop out of my life
+      altogether. Now that she has come back I am very anxious to persuade her
+      to marry me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A single lightning-like flash in Mr. Sabin&rsquo;s eyes for a moment
+      disconcerted his host. But, after all, it was gone with such amazing
+      suddenness that it left behind it a sense of unreality. Mr. Brott decided
+      that after all it must have been fancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;May I ask,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said quietly, &ldquo;whether the Countess appears to
+      receive your suit with favour?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Brott hesitated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am afraid I cannot go so far as to say that she does,&rdquo; he said
+      regretfully. &ldquo;I do not know why I find myself talking on this matter to
+      you. I feel that I should apologise for giving such a personal turn to the
+      conversation.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I beg that you will do nothing of the sort,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin protested. &ldquo;I am,
+      as a matter of fact, most deeply interested.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You encourage me,&rdquo; Mr. Brott declared, &ldquo;to ask you a question&mdash;to me
+      a very important question.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It will give me great pleasure,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin assured him, &ldquo;if I am able to
+      answer it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You know,&rdquo; Mr. Brott said, &ldquo;of that portion of her life concerning which
+      I have asked no questions, but which somehow, whenever I think of it,
+      fills me with a certain amount of uneasiness. I refer to the last three
+      years which the Countess has spent in America.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin looked up, and his lips seemed to move, but he said nothing. Mr.
+      Brott felt perhaps that he was on difficult ground.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I recognise the fact,&rdquo; he continued slowly, &ldquo;that you are the friend of
+      the Countess, and that you and I are nothing more than the merest
+      acquaintances. I ask my question therefore with some diffidence. Can you
+      tell me from your recent, more intimate knowledge of the Countess and her
+      affairs, whether there exists any reason outside her own inclinations why
+      she should not accept my proposals of marriage?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin had the air of a man gravely surprised. He shook his head very
+      slightly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You must not ask me such a question as that, Mr. Brott,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;It is
+      not a subject which I could possibly discuss with you. But I have no
+      objection to going so far as this. My experience of the Countess is that
+      she is a woman of magnificent and effective will power. I think if she has
+      any desire to marry you there are or could be no obstacles existing which
+      she would not easily dispose of.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There are obstacles, then?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You must not ask me that,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, with a certain amount of
+      stiffness. &ldquo;The Countess is a very dear friend of mine, and you must
+      forgive me now if I say that I prefer not to discuss her any longer.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A hall servant entered the room, bearing a note for Mr. Brott. He received
+      it at first carelessly, but his expression changed the moment he saw the
+      superscription. He turned a little away, and Mr. Sabin noticed that the
+      fingers which tore open the envelope were trembling. The note seemed short
+      enough, but he must have read it half a dozen times before at last he
+      turned round to the messenger.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is no answer,&rdquo; he said in a low tone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He folded the note and put it carefully into his breast pocket. Mr. Sabin
+      subdued an insane desire to struggle with him and discover, by force, if
+      necessary, who was the sender of those few brief lines. For Mr. Brott was
+      a changed man.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am afraid,&rdquo; he said, turning to his guest, &ldquo;that this has been a very
+      dull evening for you. To tell you the truth, this club is not exactly the
+      haunt of pleasure-seekers. It generally oppresses me for the first hour or
+      so. Would you like a hand at bridge, or a game of billiards? I am wholly
+      at your service&mdash;until twelve o&rsquo;clock.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin glanced at the clock.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are very good,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;but I was never much good at indoor games.
+      Golf has been my only relaxation for many years. Besides, I too have an
+      engagement for which I must leave in a very few minutes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is very good of you,&rdquo; Mr. Brott said, &ldquo;to have given me the pleasure
+      of your company. I have the greatest possible admiration for your niece,
+      Mr. Sabin, and Camperdown is a thundering good fellow. He will be our
+      leader in the House of Lords before many years have passed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is, I believe,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin remarked, &ldquo;of the same politics as
+      yourself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We are both,&rdquo; Mr. Brott answered, with a smile, &ldquo;I am afraid outside the
+      pale of your consideration in this respect. We are both Radicals.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin lit another cigarette and glanced once more at the clock.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A Radical peer!&rdquo; he remarked. &ldquo;Isn&rsquo;t that rather an anomaly? The
+      principles of Radicalism and aristocracy seem so divergent.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yet,&rdquo; Mr. Brott said, &ldquo;they are not wholly irreconcilable. I have often
+      wished that this could be more generally understood. I find myself at
+      times very unpopular with people, whose good opinion I am anxious to
+      retain, simply owing to this too general misapprehension.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin smiled gently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You were referring without doubt&mdash;&rdquo; he began.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To the Countess,&rdquo; Brott admitted. &ldquo;Yes, it is true. But after all,&rdquo; he
+      added cheerfully, &ldquo;I believe that our disagreements are mainly upon the
+      surface. The Countess is a woman of wide culture and understanding. Her
+      mind, too, is plastic. She has few prejudices.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin glanced at the clock for the third time, and rose to his feet.
+      He was quite sure now that the note was from her. He leaned on his stick
+      and took his leave quietly. All the time he was studying his host,
+      wondering at his air of only partially suppressed excitement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I must thank you very much, Mr. Brott,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;for your entertainment.
+      I trust that you will give me an opportunity shortly of reciprocating your
+      hospitality.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The two men parted finally in the hall. Mr. Sabin stepped into his hired
+      carriage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dorset House!&rdquo; he directed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XVII
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This little difference of opinion,&rdquo; the Prince remarked, looking
+      thoughtfully through the emerald green of his liqueur, &ldquo;interests me. Our
+      friend Dolinski here thinks that he will not come because he will be
+      afraid. De Brouillac, on the contrary, says that he will not come because
+      he is too sagacious. Felix here, who knows him best, says that he will not
+      come because he prefers ever to play the game from outside the circle, a
+      looker-on to all appearance, yet sometimes wielding an unseen force. It is
+      a strong position that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille raised her head and regarded the last speaker steadily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I, Prince!&rdquo; she exclaimed, &ldquo;I say that he will come because he is a
+      man, and because he does not know fear.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince of Saxe Leinitzer bowed low towards the speaker.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dear Lucille,&rdquo; he said, so respectfully that the faint irony of his tone
+      was lost to most of those present, &ldquo;I, too, am of your opinion. The man
+      who has a right, real or fancied, to claim you must indeed be a coward if
+      he suffered dangers of any sort to stand in the way. After all, dangers
+      from us! Is it not a little absurd?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille looked away from the Prince with a little shudder. He laughed
+      softly, and drank his liqueur. Afterwards he leaned back for a moment in
+      his chair and glanced thoughtfully around at the assembled company as
+      though anxious to impress upon his memory all who were present. It was a
+      little group, every member of which bore a well-known name. Their host,
+      the Duke of Dorset, in whose splendid library they were assembled, was, if
+      not the premier duke of the United Kingdom, at least one of those whose
+      many hereditary offices and ancient family entitled him to a foremost
+      place in the aristocracy of the world. Raoul de Brouillac, Count of
+      Orleans, bore a name which was scarcely absent from a single page of the
+      martial history of France. The Prince of Saxe Leinitzer kept up still a
+      semblance of royalty in the State which his ancestors had ruled with
+      despotic power. Lady Muriel Carey was a younger daughter of a ducal house,
+      which had more than once intermarried with Royalty. The others, too, had
+      their claims to be considered amongst the greatest families of Europe.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince glanced at his watch, and then at the bridge tables ready set
+      out.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;that a little diversion&mdash;what does our hostess
+      say?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Two sets can start at least,&rdquo; the Duchess said. &ldquo;Lucille and I will stay
+      out, and the Count de Brouillac does not play.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince rose.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is agreed,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Duke, will you honour me? Felix and Dolinski are
+      our ancient adversaries. It should be an interesting trial of strength.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a general movement, a re-arrangement of seats, and a little buzz
+      of conversation. Then silence. Lucille sat back in a great chair, and Lady
+      Carey came over to her side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are nervous to-night, Lucille,&rdquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I am nervous,&rdquo; Lucille admitted. &ldquo;Why not? At any moment he may be
+      here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you care&mdash;so much?&rdquo; Lady Carey said, with a hard little laugh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I care so much,&rdquo; Lucille echoed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey shook out her amber satin skirt and sat down upon a low divan.
+      She held up her hands, small white hands, ablaze with jewels, and looked
+      at them for a moment thoughtfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He was very much in earnest when I saw him at Sherry&rsquo;s in New York,&rdquo; she
+      remarked, &ldquo;and he was altogether too clever for Mr. Horser and our friends
+      there. After all their talk and boasting too. Why, they are ignorant of
+      the very elements of intrigue.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille sighed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;it is different. The Prince and he are ancient rivals,
+      and Raoul de Brouillac is no longer his friend. Muriel, I am afraid of
+      what may happen.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey shrugged her shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is no fool,&rdquo; she said in a low tone. &ldquo;He will not come here with a
+      magistrate&rsquo;s warrant and a policeman to back it up, nor will he attempt to
+      turn the thing into an Adelphi drama. I know him well enough to be sure
+      that he will attempt nothing crude. Lucille, don&rsquo;t you find it
+      exhilarating?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Exhilarating? But why?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It will be a game played through to the end by masters, and you, my dear
+      woman, are the inspiration. I think that it is most fascinating.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille looked sadly into the fire.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;that I am weary of all these things. I seem to have
+      lived such a very long time. At Lenox I was quite happy. Of my own will I
+      would never have left it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey&rsquo;s thin lips curled a little, her blue eyes were full of scorn.
+      She was not altogether a pleasant woman to look upon. Her cheeks were thin
+      and hollow, her eyes a little too prominent, some hidden expression which
+      seemed at times to flit from one to the other of her features suggested a
+      sensuality which was a little incongruous with her somewhat angular figure
+      and generally cold demeanour. But that she was a woman of courage and
+      resource history had proved.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How idyllic!&rdquo; she exclaimed. &ldquo;Positively medieval! Fancy living with one
+      man three years.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, not? I never knew a woman yet however cold however fond of change,
+      who had not at some time or other during her life met a man for whose sake
+      she would have done&mdash;what I did. I have had as many admirers&mdash;as
+      many lovers, I suppose, as most women. But I can truthfully say that
+      during the last three years no thought of one of them has crossed my
+      mind.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey laughed scornfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Upon my word,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;If the Prince had not a temper, and if they
+      were not playing for such ruinous points, I would entertain them all with
+      these delightful confidences. By the bye, the Prince himself was once one
+      of those who fell before your chariot wheels, was he not? Look at him now&mdash;sideways.
+      What does he remind you of?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille raised her eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A fat angel,&rdquo; she answered, &ldquo;or something equally distasteful. How I hate
+      those mild eyes and that sweet, slow smile. I saw him thrash a poor beater
+      once in the Saxe Leinitzer forests. Ugh!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I should not blame him for that,&rdquo; Lady Carey said coldly. &ldquo;I like
+      masterful men, even to the point of cruelty. General Dolinski there
+      fascinates me. I believe that he keeps a little private knout at home for
+      his wife and children. A wicked little contrivance with an ivory handle. I
+      should like to see him use it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille shuddered. This tete-a-tete did not amuse her. She rose and looked
+      over one of the bridge tables for a minute. The Prince, who was dealing,
+      looked up with a smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Be my good angel, Countess,&rdquo; he begged. &ldquo;Fortune has deserted me
+      to-night. You shall be the goddess of chance, and smile your favours upon
+      me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A hard little laugh came from the chair where Lady Carey sat. She turned
+      her head towards them, and there was a malicious gleam in her eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Too late, Prince,&rdquo; she exclaimed. &ldquo;The favours of the Countess are all
+      given away. Lucille has become even as one of those flaxen-haired dolls of
+      your mountain villages. She has given her heart away, and she is sworn to
+      perpetual constancy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The absence,&rdquo; he said, glancing up at the clock, &ldquo;of that most fortunate
+      person should surely count in our favour.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille followed his eyes. The clock was striking ten. She shrugged her
+      shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If the converse also is true, Prince,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;you can scarcely have
+      anything to hope for from me. For by half-past ten he will be here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince picked up his cards and sorted them mechanically.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We shall see,&rdquo; he remarked. &ldquo;It is true, Countess, that you are here, but
+      in this instance you are set with thorns.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To continue the allegory, Prince,&rdquo; she answered, passing on to the next
+      table, &ldquo;also with poisonous berries. But to the hand which has no fear,
+      neither are harmful.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince laid down his hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now I really believe,&rdquo; he said gently, &ldquo;that she meant to be rude.
+      Partner, I declare hearts!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Felix was standing out from the next table whilst his hand was being
+      played by General Dolinski, his partner. He drew her a little on one side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do not irritate Saxe Leinitzer,&rdquo; he whispered. &ldquo;Remember, everything must
+      rest with him. Twice to-night you have brought that smile to his lips, and
+      I never see it without thinking of unpleasant things.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are right,&rdquo; she answered; &ldquo;but I hate him so. He and Muriel Carey
+      seem to have entered into some conspiracy to lead me on to say things
+      which I might regret.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Saxe Leinitzer,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;has never forgotten that he once aspired to be
+      your lover.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He has not failed to let me know it,&rdquo; she answered. &ldquo;He has even dared&mdash;ah!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a sudden stir in the room. The library door was thrown open. The
+      solemn-visaged butler stood upon the threshold.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;His Grace the Duke of Souspennier!&rdquo; he announced.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XVIII
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      There was for the moment a dead silence. The soft patter of cards no
+      longer fell upon the table. The eyes of every one were turned upon the
+      newcomers. And he, leaning upon his stick, looked only for one person, and
+      having found her, took no heed of any one else.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lucille!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She rose from her seat and stood with hands outstretched towards him, her
+      lips parted in a delightful smile, her eyes soft with happiness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Victor, welcome! It is like you to have found me, and I knew that you
+      would come.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He raised her fingers to his lips&mdash;tenderly&mdash;with the grace of a
+      prince, but all the affection of a lover. What he said to her none could
+      hear, for his voice was lowered almost to a whisper. But the colour
+      stained her cheeks, and her blush was the blush of a girl.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A movement of the Duchess recalled him to a sense of his social duty. He
+      turned courteously to her with extended hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I trust,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;that I may be forgiven my temporary fit of
+      aberration. I cannot thank you sufficiently, Duchess, for your kind
+      invitation.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her answering smile was a little dubious.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am sure,&rdquo; she said &ldquo;that we are delighted to welcome back amongst us so
+      old and valued a friend. I suppose you know every one?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin looked searchingly around, exchanging bows with those whose
+      faces were familiar to him. But between him and the Prince of Saxe
+      Leinitzer there passed no pretense at any greeting. The two men eyed one
+      another for a moment coldly. Each seemed to be trying to read the other
+      through.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I believe,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;that I have that privilege. I see, however,
+      that I am interrupting your game. Let me beg you to continue. With your
+      permission, Duchess, I will remain a spectator. There are many things
+      which my wife and I have to say to one another.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince of Saxe Leinitzer laid his cards softly upon the table. He
+      smiled upon Mr. Sabin&mdash;a slow, unpleasant smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think,&rdquo; he said slowly, &ldquo;that our game must be postponed. It is a pity,
+      but I think it had better be so.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It must be entirely as you wish,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered. &ldquo;I am at your
+      service now or later.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince rose to his feet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur le Due de Souspennier,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;what are we to conclude from
+      your presence here this evening?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is obvious,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered. &ldquo;I claim my place amongst you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You claim to be one of us?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ten years ago,&rdquo; the Prince continued, &ldquo;you were granted immunity from all
+      the penalties and obligations which a co-membership with us might involve.
+      This privilege was extended to you on account of certain great operations
+      in which you were then engaged, and the object of which was not foreign to
+      our own aims. You are aware that the period of that immunity is long since
+      past.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin leaned with both hands upon his stick, and his face was like the
+      face of a sphinx. Only Lucille, who knew him best of all those there, saw
+      him wince for a moment before this reminder of his great failure.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am not accustomed,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said quietly, &ldquo;to shirk my share of the
+      work in any undertaking with which I am connected. Only in this case I
+      claim to take the place of the Countess Lucille, my wife. I request that
+      the task, whatever it may be which you have imposed upon her, may be
+      transferred to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince&rsquo;s smile was sweet, but those who knew him best wondered what
+      evil it might betoken for his ancient enemy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You offer yourself, then, as a full member?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Assuredly!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Subject,&rdquo; he drawled, &ldquo;to all the usual pains and privileges?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince played with the cards upon the table. His smooth, fair face was
+      unruffled, almost undisturbed. Yet underneath he was wondering fiercely,
+      eagerly, how this might serve his ends.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The circumstances,&rdquo; he said at last, &ldquo;are peculiar. I think that we
+      should do well to consult together&mdash;you and I, Felix, and Raoul
+      here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The two men named rose up silently. The Prince pointed to a small round
+      table at the farther end of the apartment, half screened off by a
+      curtained recess.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Am I also,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin asked, &ldquo;of your company?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think not,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;In a few moments we will return.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin moved away with a slight enigmatic gesture. Lucille gathered up
+      her skirts, making room for him by her side on a small sofa.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is delightful to see you, Victor,&rdquo; she murmured. &ldquo;It is delightful to
+      know that you trusted me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin looked at her, and the smile which no other woman had ever seen
+      softened for a moment his face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dear Lucille,&rdquo; he murmured, &ldquo;how could you ever doubt it? There was a
+      day, I admit, when the sun stood still, when, if I had felt inclined to
+      turn to light literature, I should have read aloud the Book of Job. But
+      afterwards&mdash;well, you see that I am here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I knew that you would come,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;and yet I knew that it would be a
+      struggle between you and them. For&mdash;the Prince&mdash;&rdquo; she murmured,
+      lowering her voice, &ldquo;had pledged his word to keep us apart.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin raised his head, and his eyes traveled towards the figure of the
+      man who sat with his back to them in the far distant corner of the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Prince,&rdquo; he said softly, &ldquo;is faithful to his ancient enmities.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille&rsquo;s face was troubled. She turned to her companion with a little
+      grimace.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He would have me believe,&rdquo; she murmured, &ldquo;that he is faithful to other
+      things besides his enmities.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am not jealous,&rdquo; he said softly, &ldquo;of the Prince of Saxe Leinitzer!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      As though attracted by the mention of his name, which must, however, have
+      been unheard by him, the Prince at that moment turned round and looked for
+      a moment towards them. He shot a quick glance at Lady Carey. Almost at
+      once she rose from her chair and came across to them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Prince&rsquo;s watch-dog,&rdquo; Lucille murmured. &ldquo;Hateful woman! She is bound
+      hand and foot to him, and yet&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her eyes met his, and he laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Really,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;you and I in our old age might be hero and heroine of
+      a little romance&mdash;the undesiring objects of a hopeless affection!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey sank into a low chair by their side. &ldquo;You two,&rdquo; she said, with
+      a slow, malicious smile, &ldquo;are a pattern to this wicked world. Don&rsquo;t you
+      know that such fidelity is positively sinful, and after three years in
+      such a country too?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is the approach of senility,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered her. &ldquo;I am an old
+      man, Lady Muriel!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She shrugged her shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are like Ulysses,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;The gods, or rather the goddesses, have
+      helped you towards immortality.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered, &ldquo;the most delicious piece of flattery I have
+      ever heard.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Calypso,&rdquo; she murmured, nodding towards Lucille, &ldquo;is by your side.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Really,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin interrupted, &ldquo;I must protest. Lucille and I were
+      married by a most respectable Episcopalian clergyman. We have documentary
+      evidence. Besides, if Lucille is Calypso, what about Penelope?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey smiled thoughtfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have always thought,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;that Penelope was a myth. In your case
+      I should say that Penelope represents a return to sanity&mdash;to the
+      ordinary ways of life.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin and Lucille exchanged swift glances. He raised his eyebrows.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Our little idyll,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;seems to be the sport and buffet of every
+      one. You forget that I am of the old world. I do not understand
+      modernity.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ulysses,&rdquo; she answered, &ldquo;was of the old world, yet he was a wanderer in
+      more senses of the word than one. And there have been times&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her eyes sought his. He ignored absolutely the subtlety of meaning which
+      lurked beneath the heavy drooping eyelids.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;One travels through life,&rdquo; he answered, &ldquo;by devious paths, and a little
+      wandering in the flower-gardens by the way is the lot of every one. But
+      when the journey is over, one&rsquo;s taste for wandering has gone&mdash;well,
+      Ulysses finished his days at the hearth of Penelope.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She rose and walked away. Mr. Sabin sat still and watched her as though
+      listening to the soft sweep of her gown upon the carpet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hateful woman!&rdquo; Lucille exclaimed lightly. &ldquo;To make love, and such love,
+      to one&rsquo;s lawful husband before one&rsquo;s face is a little crude, don&rsquo;t you
+      think?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Too obvious,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;She is playing the Prince&rsquo;s game. Dear me,
+      how interesting this will be soon.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She nodded. A faint smile of bitterness had stolen into her tone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Already,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;you are beginning to scent the delight of the
+      atmosphere. You are stiffening for the fight. Soon&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, no! Don&rsquo;t say it,&rdquo; he whispered, taking her hand. &ldquo;I shall never
+      forget. If the fight seems good to me it is because you are the prize, and
+      after all, you know, to fight for one&rsquo;s womenkind is amongst the primeval
+      instincts.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey, who had been pacing the room restlessly, touching an ornament
+      here, looking at a picture there, came back to them and stood before Mr.
+      Sabin. She had caught his last words.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Primeval instincts!&rdquo; she exclaimed mockingly. &ldquo;What do you know about
+      them, you of all men, a bundle of nerves and brains, with a motor for a
+      heart, and an automatic brake upon your passions? Upon my word, I believe
+      that I have solved the mystery of your perennial youth. You have found a
+      way of substituting machinery for the human organ, and you are wound up to
+      go for ever.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have found me out,&rdquo; he admitted. &ldquo;Professor Penningram of Chicago
+      will supply you too with an outfit. Mention my name if you like. It is a
+      wonderful country America.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince came over to them, fair and bland with no trace upon his smooth
+      features or in his half-jesting tone of any evil things.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Souspennier,&rdquo; he said, holding out his hand, &ldquo;welcome back once more to
+      your old place. I am happy to say that there appears to be no reason why
+      your claim should not be fully admitted.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin rose to his feet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I presume,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;that no very active demands are likely to be made
+      upon my services. In this country more than any other I fear that the
+      possibilities of my aid are scanty.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is a fact,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;which we all appreciate. Upon you at present we
+      make no claim.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a moment&rsquo;s intense silence. A steely light glittered in Mr.
+      Sabin&rsquo;s eyes. He and the Prince alone remained standing. The Duchess of
+      Dorset watched them through her lorgnettes; Lady Carey watched too with an
+      intense eagerness, her eyes alight with mingled cruelty and excitement.
+      Lucille&rsquo;s eyes were so bright that one might readily believe the tears to
+      be glistening beneath.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XIX
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will not pretend,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;to misunderstand you. My help is
+      not required by you in this enterprise, whatever it may be, in which you
+      are engaged. On the contrary, you have tried by many and various ways to
+      keep me at a distance. But I am here, Prince&mdash;here to be dealt with
+      and treated according to my rights.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince stroked his fair moustache.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am a little puzzled,&rdquo; he admitted, &ldquo;as to this&mdash;shall I not call
+      it self-assertiveness?&mdash;on the part of my good friend Souspennier.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will make it quite clear then,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered. &ldquo;Lucille, will you
+      favour me by ringing for your maid. The carriage is at the door.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince held out his hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear Souspennier,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;you must not think of taking Lucille away
+      from us.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Indeed,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered coolly. &ldquo;Why not?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It must be obvious to you,&rdquo; the Prince answered, &ldquo;that we did not send to
+      America for Lucille without an object. She is now engaged in an important
+      work upon our behalf. It is necessary that she should remain under this
+      roof.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I demand,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;that the nature of that necessity should be
+      made clear to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince smiled with the air of one disposed to humour a wilful child.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;You must know very well that I cannot stand here and
+      tell you the bare outline, much less the details of an important movement.
+      To-morrow, at any hour you choose, one from amongst us shall explain the
+      whole matter&mdash;and the part to be borne in it by the Countess!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And to-night?&rdquo; Mr. Sabin asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince shrugged his shoulders and glanced at the clock.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To-night, my dear friend,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;all of us, I believe, go on to a
+      ball at Carmarthen House. It would grieve me also, I am sure, Duke, to
+      seem inhospitable, but I am compelled to mention the fact that the hour
+      for which the carriages have been ordered is already at hand.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin reflected for a few moments.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did I understand you to say,&rdquo; he asked, &ldquo;that the help to be given to you
+      by my wife, Lucille, Duchess of Souspennier, entailed her remaining under
+      this roof?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince smiled seraphically.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is unfortunate,&rdquo; he murmured, &ldquo;since you have been so gallant as to
+      follow her, but it is true! You will understand this perfectly&mdash;to-morrow.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And why should I wait until to-morrow?&rdquo; Mr. Sabin asked coolly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I fear,&rdquo; the Prince said, &ldquo;that it is a matter of necessity.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin glanced for a moment in turn at the faces of all the little
+      company as though seeking to discover how far the attitude of his opponent
+      met with their approval. Lady Carey&rsquo;s thin lips were curved in a smile,
+      and her eyes met his mockingly. The others remained imperturbable. Last of
+      all he looked at Lucille.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It seems,&rdquo; he said, smiling towards her, &ldquo;that I am called upon to pay a
+      heavy entrance fee on my return amongst your friends. But the Prince of
+      Saxe Leinitzer forgets that he has shown me no authority, or given me no
+      valid reason why I should tolerate such flagrant interference with my
+      personal affairs.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To-morrow&mdash;to-morrow, my good sir!&rdquo; the Prince interrupted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No! To-night!&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered sharply. &ldquo;Lucille, in the absence of
+      any reasonable explanation, I challenge the right of the Prince of Saxe
+      Leinitzer to rob me even for an hour of my dearest possession. I appeal to
+      you. Come with me and remain with me until it has been proved, if ever it
+      can be proved, that greater interests require our separation. If there be
+      blame I will take it. Will you trust yourself to me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille half rose, but Lady Carey&rsquo;s hand was heavy upon her shoulder. As
+      though by a careless movement General Dolinski and Raoul de Brouillac
+      altered their positions slightly so as to come between the two. The Duke
+      of Dorset had left the room. Then Mr. Sabin knew that they were all
+      against him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lucille,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;have courage! I wait for you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She looked towards him, and her face puzzled him. For there flashed across
+      the shoulders of these people a glance which was wholly out of harmony
+      with his own state of barely subdued passion&mdash;a glance half tender,
+      half humorous, full of subtle promise. Yet her words were a blow to him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Victor, how is it possible? Believe me, I should come if I could.
+      To-morrow&mdash;very soon, it may be possible. But now. You hear what the
+      Prince says. I fear that he is right!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      To Mr. Sabin the shock was an unexpected one. He had never doubted but
+      that she at least was on his side. Her words found him unprepared, and a
+      moment he showed his discomfiture. His recovery however, was swift and
+      amazing. He bowed to Lucille, and by the time he raised his head even the
+      reproach had gone from his eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dear lady,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I will not venture to dispute your decision.
+      Prince, will you appoint a time to-morrow when this matter shall be more
+      fully explained to me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince&rsquo;s smile was sweetness itself, and his tone very gentle. But Mr.
+      Sabin, who seldom yielded to any passionate impulse, kept his teeth set
+      and his hand clenched, lest the blow he longed to deal should escape him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At midday to-morrow I shall be pleased to receive you,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;The
+      Countess, with her usual devotion and good sense, has, I trust, convinced
+      you that our action is necessary!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To-morrow at midday,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;I will be here. I have the honour
+      to wish you all good-night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      His farewell was comprehensive. He did not even single out Lucille for a
+      parting glance. But down the broad stairs and across the hall of Dorset
+      House he passed with weary steps, leaning heavily upon his stick. It was a
+      heavy blow which had fallen upon him. As yet he scarcely realised it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His carriage was delayed for a few moments, and just as he was entering it
+      a young woman, plainly dressed in black, came hurrying out and slipped a
+      note into his hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pardon, monsieur,&rdquo; she exclaimed, with a smile. &ldquo;I feared that I was too
+      late.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin&rsquo;s fingers closed over the note, and he stepped blithely into the
+      carriage. But when he tore it open and saw the handwriting he permitted
+      himself a little groan of disappointment. It was not from her. He read the
+      few lines and crushed the sheet of paper in his hand.
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+  &ldquo;I am having supper at the Carlton with some friends on our way
+  to C. H.  I want to speak to you for a moment.  Be in the Palm
+  Court at 12.15, but do not recognise me until I come to you.  If
+  possible keep out of sight.  If you should have left my maid will
+  bring this on to your hotel.
+                                                           &ldquo;M. C.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin leaned back in his carriage, and a frown of faint perplexity
+      contracted his forehead.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If I were a younger man,&rdquo; he murmured to himself, &ldquo;I might believe that
+      this woman was really in earnest, as well as being Saxe Leinitzer&rsquo;s
+      jackal. We were friendly enough in Paris that year. She is unscrupulous
+      enough, of course. Always with some odd fancy for the grotesque or
+      unlikely. I wonder&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He pulled the check-string, and was driven to Camperdown House. A great
+      many people were coming and going. Mr. Sabin found Helene&rsquo;s maid, and
+      learnt that her mistress was just going to her room, and would be alone
+      for a few minutes. He scribbled a few words on the back of a card, and was
+      at once taken up to her boudoir.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear UNCLE,&rdquo; Helene exclaimed, &ldquo;you have arrived most opportunely. We
+      have just got rid of a few dinner people, and we are going on to
+      Carmarthen House presently. Take that easy-chair, please, and, light a
+      cigarette. Will you have a liqueur? Wolfendon has some old brandy which
+      every one seems to think wonderful.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are very kind, Helene,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said. &ldquo;I cannot refuse anything
+      which you offer in so charming a manner. But I shall not keep you more
+      than a few minutes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We need not leave for an hour,&rdquo; Helene said, &ldquo;and I am dressed except for
+      my jewels. Tell me, have you seen Lucille? I am so anxious to know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have seen Lucille this evening,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At Dorset House!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Helene sat down, smiling.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do tell me all about it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is very little to tell,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She is with you&mdash;she returns at least!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;She remains at Dorset House.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Helene was silent. Mr. Sabin smoked pensively a moment or two, and sipped
+      the liqueur which Camperdown&rsquo;s own servant had just brought him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is very hard, Helene,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;to make you altogether understand the
+      situation, for there are certain phases of it which I cannot discuss with
+      you at all. I have made my first effort to regain Lucille, and it has
+      failed. It is not her fault. I need not say that it is not mine. But the
+      struggle has commenced, and in the end I shall win.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lucille herself&mdash;&rdquo; Helene began hesitatingly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lucille is, I firmly believe, as anxious to return to me as I am anxious
+      to have her,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Helene threw up her hands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is bewildering,&rdquo; she exclaimed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It must seem so to you,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin admitted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wish that Lucille were anywhere else,&rdquo; Helene said. &ldquo;The Dorset House
+      set, you know, although they are very smart and very exclusive, have a
+      somewhat peculiar reputation. Lady Carey, although she is such a brilliant
+      woman, says and does the most insolent, the most amazing things, and the
+      Prince of Saxe Leinitzer goes everywhere in Europe by the name of the
+      Royal libertine. They are powerful enough almost to dominate society, and
+      we poor people who abide by the conventions are absolutely nowhere beside
+      them. They think that we are bourgeois because we have virtue, and
+      prehistoric because we are not decadent.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Duke&mdash;&rdquo; Mr. Sabin remarked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, the Duke is quite different, of course,&rdquo; Helene admitted. &ldquo;He is a
+      fanatical Tory, very stupid, very blind to anything except his beloved
+      Primrose League. How he came to lend himself to the vagaries of such a set
+      I cannot imagine.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;C&rsquo;est la femme toujours!&rdquo; he remarked. &ldquo;His Grace is, I fear, henpecked,
+      and the Duchess herself is the sport of cleverer people. And now, my dear
+      niece, I see that the time is going. I came to know if you could get me a
+      card for the ball at Carmarthen House to-night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Helene laughed softly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very easily, my dear UNCLE. Lady Carmarthen is Wolfendon&rsquo;s cousin, you
+      know, and a very good friend of mine. I have half a dozen blank cards
+      here. Shall I really see you there?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I believe so,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And Lucille?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is possible.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is nothing I suppose which I can do in the way of intervention, or
+      anything of that sort?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lucille and I are the best of friends,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;Talk to her, if you
+      will. By the bye, is that twelve o&rsquo;clock? I must hurry. Doubtless we shall
+      meet again at the ball.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But Carmarthen House saw nothing of Mr. Sabin that night.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XX
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin from his seat behind a gigantic palm watched her egress from the
+      supper-room with a little group of friends.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They came to a halt in the broad carpeted way only a few feet from him.
+      Lady Carey, in a wonderful green gown, her neck and bosom ablaze with
+      jewels, seemed to be making her farewells.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I must go in and see the De Lausanacs,&rdquo; she exclaimed. &ldquo;They are in the
+      blue room supping with the Portuguese Ambassador. I shall be at Carmarthen
+      House within half an hour&mdash;unless my headache becomes unbearable. Au
+      revoir, all of you. Good-bye, Laura!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her friends passed on towards the great swing doors. Lady Carey retraced
+      her steps slowly towards the supper-room, and made some languid inquiries
+      of the head waiter as to a missing handkerchief. Then she came again
+      slowly down the broad way and reached Mr. Sabin. He rose to his feet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I thank you very much for your note,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;You have something, I
+      believe, to say to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She stood before him for a moment in silence, as though not unwilling that
+      he should appreciate the soft splendour of her toilette. The jewels which
+      encircled her neck were priceless and dazzling; the soft material of her
+      gown, the most delicate shade of sea green, seemed to foam about her feet,
+      a wonderful triumph of allegoric dressmaking. She saw that he was studying
+      her, and she laughed a little uneasily, looking all the time into his
+      eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shockingly overdressed, ain&rsquo;t I?&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;We were going straight to
+      Carmarthen House, you know. Come and sit in this corner for a moment, and
+      order me some coffee. I suppose there isn&rsquo;t any less public place!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I fear not,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;You will perhaps be unobserved behind this
+      palm.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She sank into a low chair, and he seated himself beside her. She sighed
+      contentedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dear me!&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Do men like being run after like this?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin raised his eyebrows.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I understood,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;that you had something to say to me of
+      importance.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She shot a quick look up at him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t be horrid,&rdquo; she said in a low tone. &ldquo;Of course I wanted to see you.
+      I wanted to explain. Give me one of your cigarettes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He laid his case silently before her. She took one and lit it, watching
+      him furtively all the time. The man brought their coffee. The place was
+      almost empty now, and some of the lights were turned down.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is very kind of you,&rdquo; he said slowly, &ldquo;to honour me by so much
+      consideration, but if you have much to say perhaps it would be better if
+      you permitted me to call upon you to-morrow. I am afraid of depriving you
+      of your ball&mdash;and your friends will be getting impatient.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bother the ball&mdash;and my friends,&rdquo; she exclaimed, a certain strained
+      note in her tone which puzzled him. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m not obliged to go to the thing,
+      and I don&rsquo;t want to. I&rsquo;ve invented a headache, and they won&rsquo;t even expect
+      me. They know my headaches.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In that case,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;I am entirely at your service.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She sighed, and looked up at him through a little cloud of tobacco smoke.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What a wonderful man you are,&rdquo; she said softly. &ldquo;You accept defeat with
+      the grace of a victor. I believe that you would triumph as easily with a
+      shrug of the shoulders. Haven&rsquo;t you any feeling at all? Don&rsquo;t you know
+      what it is like to feel?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We both come,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;of a historic race. If ancestry is worth
+      anything it should at least teach us to go about without pinning our
+      hearts upon our sleeves.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But you,&rdquo; she murmured, &ldquo;you have no heart.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He looked down upon her then with still cold face and steady eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Indeed,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;you are mistaken.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She moved uneasily in her chair. She was very pale, except for a faint
+      spot of pink colour in her cheeks.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is very hard to find, then,&rdquo; she said, speaking quickly, her bosom
+      rising and falling, her eyes always seeking to hold his. &ldquo;To-night you see
+      what I have done&mdash;I have, sent away my friends&mdash;and my carriage.
+      They may know me here&mdash;you see what I have risked. And I don&rsquo;t care.
+      You thought to-night that I was your enemy&mdash;and I am not. I am not
+      your enemy at all.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her hand fell as though by accident upon his, and remained there. Mr.
+      Sabin was very nearly embarrassed. He knew quite well that if she were not
+      his enemy at that moment she would be very shortly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lucille,&rdquo; she continued, &ldquo;will blame me too. I cannot help it. I want to
+      tell you that for the present your separation from her is a certain thing.
+      She acquiesces. You heard her. She is quite happy. She is at the ball
+      to-night, and she has friends there who will make it pleasant for her.
+      Won&rsquo;t you understand?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She beat the ground with her foot.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You must understand,&rdquo; she murmured. &ldquo;You are not like these fools of
+      Englishmen who go to sleep when they are married, and wake in the divorce
+      court. For the present at least you have lost Lucille. You heard her
+      choose. She&rsquo;s at the ball to-night&mdash;and I have come here to be with
+      you. Won&rsquo;t you, please,&rdquo; she added, with a little nervous laugh, &ldquo;show
+      some gratitude?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The interruption which Mr. Sabin had prayed for came at last. The
+      musicians had left, and many of the lights had been turned down. An
+      official came across to them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I beg your pardon, sir,&rdquo; he said, addressing Mr. Sabin, &ldquo;but we are
+      closing now, unless you are a guest in the hotel.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am staying here,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered, rising, &ldquo;but the lady&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey interrupted him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am staying here also,&rdquo; she said to the man.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He bowed at once and withdrew. She rose slowly to her feet and laid her
+      fingers upon his arm. He looked steadily away from her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Fortunately,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I have not yet dismissed my own carriage. Permit
+      me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin leaned heavily upon his stick as he slowly made his way along
+      the corridor to his rooms. Things were going ill with him indeed. He was
+      not used to the fear of an enemy, but the memory of Lady Carey&rsquo;s white
+      cheeks and indrawn lips as she had entered his carriage chilled him. Her
+      one look, too, was a threat worse than any which her lips could have
+      uttered. He was getting old indeed, he thought, wearily, when
+      disappointment weighed so heavily upon him. And Lucille? Had he any real
+      fears of her? He felt a little catch in his throat at the bare thought&mdash;in
+      a moment&rsquo;s singular clearness of perception he realised that if Lucille
+      were indeed lost the world was no longer a place for him. So his feet fell
+      wearily upon the thickly carpeted floor of the corridor, and his face was
+      unusually drawn and haggard as he opened the door of his sitting-room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And then&mdash;a transformation, amazing, stupefying. It was Lucille who
+      was smiling a welcome upon him from the depths of his favourite easy-chair&mdash;Lucille
+      sitting over his fire, a novel in her hand, and wearing a delightful
+      rose-pink dressing-gown. Some of her belongings were scattered about his
+      room, giving it a delicate air of femininity. The faint odour of her
+      favourite and only perfume gave to her undoubted presence a wonderful
+      sense of reality.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She held out her hands to him, and the broad sleeves of her dressing-gown
+      fell away from her white rounded arms. Her eyes were wonderfully soft, the
+      pink upon her cheeks was the blush of a girl.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Victor,&rdquo; she murmured, &ldquo;do not look so stupefied. Did you not believe
+      that I would risk at least a little for you, who have risked so much for
+      me? Only come to me! Make the most of me. All sorts of things are sure to
+      happen directly I am found out.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He took her into his arms. It was one of the moments of his lifetime.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tell me,&rdquo; he murmured, &ldquo;how have you dared to do this?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You know the Prince and his set. You know the way they bribe. Intrigues
+      everywhere, new and old overlapping. They have really some reason for
+      keeping you and me apart, but as regards my other movements, I am free
+      enough. And they thought, Victor&mdash;don&rsquo;t be angry&mdash;but I let them
+      think it was some one else. And I stole away from the ball, and they think&mdash;never
+      mind what they think. But you, Victor, are my intrigue, you, my love, my
+      husband!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Then all the fatigue and all the weariness, died away from Mr. Sabin&rsquo;s
+      face. Once more the fire of youth burned in his heart. And Lucille laughed
+      softly as her lips met his, and her head sank upon his shoulder.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXI
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey suddenly dropped her partner&rsquo;s arm. She had seen a man standing
+      by himself with folded arms and moody face at the entrance to the
+      ball-room. She raised her lorgnettes. His identity was unquestionable.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will you excuse me for a moment, Captain Horton,&rdquo; she said to her escort.
+      &ldquo;I want particularly to speak to Mr. Brott.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Captain Horton bowed with the slight disappointment of a hungry man on his
+      way to the supper-room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t be long,&rdquo; he begged. &ldquo;The places are filling up.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey nodded and walked swiftly across to where Brott was standing.
+      He moved eagerly forward to meet her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not dancing, Mr. Brott?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He shrugged his shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This sort of thing isn&rsquo;t much in my way,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;I was rather
+      hoping to see the Countess here. I trust that she is not indisposed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She looked at him steadily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you mean,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;that you do not know where she is?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I?&rdquo; he answered in amazement. &ldquo;How should I? I have not seen her at all
+      this evening. I understood that she was to be here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey hesitated. The man was too honest to be able to lie like this,
+      even in a good cause. She stood quite still for a moment thinking. Several
+      of her dearest friends had already told her that she was looking tired and
+      ill this evening. At that moment she was positively haggard.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have been down at Ranelagh this afternoon,&rdquo; she said slowly, &ldquo;and
+      dining out, so I have not seen Lucille. She was complaining of a headache
+      yesterday, but I quite thought that she was coming here. Have you seen the
+      Duchess?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No. There is such a crowd.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey glanced towards her escort and turned away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will try and find out what has become of her,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t go away
+      yet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She rejoined her escort.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When we have found a table,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;I want you to keep my place for a
+      few moments while I try and find some of my party.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They passed into the supper-room, and appropriated a small table. Lady
+      Carey left her partner, and made her way to the farther end of the
+      apartment, where the Prince of Saxe Leinitzer was supping with half a
+      dozen men and women. She touched him on the shoulder.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I want to speak to you for a moment, Ferdinand,&rdquo; she whispered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He rose at once, and she drew him a little apart.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Brott is here,&rdquo; she said slowly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Brott here!&rdquo; he repeated. &ldquo;And Lucille?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is asking for her&mdash;expected to find her here. He is downstairs
+      now, looking the picture of misery.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He looked at her inquiringly. There was a curious steely light in her
+      eyes, and she was showing her front teeth, which were a little prominent.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you think,&rdquo; he asked, &ldquo;that she has deceived us?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What else? Where are the Dorsets?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Duchess is with the Earl of Condon, and some more people at the round
+      table under the balcony.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Give me your arm,&rdquo; she whispered. &ldquo;We must go and ask her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They crossed the room together. Lady Carey sank into a vacant chair by the
+      side of the Duchess and talked for a few minutes to the people whom she
+      knew. Then she turned and whispered in the Duchess&rsquo;s ear.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where is Lucille?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Duchess looked at her with a meaning smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How should I know? She left when we did.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Alone?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. It was all understood, wasn&rsquo;t it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey laughed unpleasantly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She has fooled us,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Brott is here alone. Knows nothing of
+      her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Duchess was puzzled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I know nothing more than you do,&rdquo; she answered. &ldquo;Are you sure the
+      man is telling the truth?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course. He is the image of despair.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am sure she was in earnest,&rdquo; the Duchess said. &ldquo;When I asked her
+      whether she should come on here she laughed a little nervously, and said
+      perhaps or something of that sort.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The fool may have bungled it,&rdquo; Lady Carey said thoughtfully. &ldquo;I will go
+      back to him. There&rsquo;s that idiot of a partner of mine. I must go and
+      pretend to have some supper.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Captain Horton found his vis-a-vis a somewhat unsatisfactory companion.
+      She drank several glasses of champagne, ate scarcely anything, and rushed
+      him away before he had taken the edge off his appetite. He brought her to
+      the Duchess and went back in a huff to finish his supper alone. Lady Carey
+      went downstairs and discovered Mr. Brott, who had scarcely moved.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have you seen anything of her?&rdquo; she asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He shook his head gloomily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No! It is too late for her to come now, isn&rsquo;t it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Take me somewhere where we can talk,&rdquo; she said abruptly. &ldquo;One of those
+      seats in the recess will do.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He obeyed her, and they found a retired corner. Lady Carey wasted no time
+      in fencing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am Lucille&rsquo;s greatest friend, Mr. Brott, and her confidante,&rdquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So I have understood.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She tells me everything.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He glanced towards her a little uneasily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is comprehensive!&rdquo; he remarked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is true,&rdquo; she answered. &ldquo;Lucille has told me a great deal about your
+      friendship! Come, there is no use in our mincing words. Lucille has been
+      badly treated years ago, and she has a perfect right to seek any
+      consolation she may find. The old fashioned ideas, thank goodness, do not
+      hold any longer amongst us. It is not necessary to tie yourself for life
+      to a man in order to procure a little diversion.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will not pretend to misunderstand you, Lady Carey,&rdquo; he said gravely,
+      &ldquo;but I must decline to discuss the Countess of Radantz in connection with
+      such matters.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, come!&rdquo; she declared impatiently; &ldquo;remember that I am her friend.
+      Yours is quite the proper attitude, but with me it doesn&rsquo;t matter. Now I
+      am going to ask you a plain question. Had you any engagement with Lucille
+      to-night?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She watched him mercilessly. He was colouring like a boy. Lady Carey&rsquo;s
+      thin lips curled. She had no sympathy with such amateurish love-making.
+      Nevertheless, his embarrassment was a great relief to her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She promised to be here,&rdquo; he answered stiffly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Everything depends upon your being honest with me,&rdquo; she continued. &ldquo;You
+      will see from my question that I know. Was there not something said about
+      supper at your rooms before or after the dance?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I cannot discuss this matter with you or any living person,&rdquo; he answered.
+      &ldquo;If you know so much why ask me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey could have shaken the man, but she restrained herself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is sufficient!&rdquo; she declared. &ldquo;What I cannot understand is why you are
+      here&mdash;when Lucille is probably awaiting for you at your rooms.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He started from his chair as though he had been shot.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you mean?&rdquo; he exclaimed. &ldquo;She was to&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He stopped short. Lady Carey shrugged her shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, written you or something, I suppose!&rdquo; she exclaimed. &ldquo;Trust an
+      Englishman for bungling a love affair. All I can tell you is that she left
+      Dorset House in a hansom without the others, and said some thing about
+      having supper with some friends.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Brott sprang to his feet and took a quick step towards the exit.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is not possible!&rdquo; he exclaimed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She took his arm. He almost dragged her along.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, we are going to see,&rdquo; she said coolly. &ldquo;Tell the man to call a
+      hansom.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They drove almost in silence through the Square to Pall Mall. Brott leaped
+      out onto the pavement directly the cab pulled up.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will wait here,&rdquo; Lady Carey said. &ldquo;I only want to know that Lucille is
+      safe.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He disappeared, and she sat forward in the cab drumming idly with her
+      forefingers upon the apron. In a few minutes he came back. His appearance
+      was quite sufficient. He was very pale. The change in him was so ludicrous
+      that she laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Get in,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I am going round to Dorset House. We must find out if
+      we can what has become of her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He obeyed without comment. At Dorset House Lady Carey summoned the
+      Duchess&rsquo;s own maid.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Marie,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;you were attending upon the Countess Radantz
+      to-night?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, my lady.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At what time did she leave?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At about, eleven, my lady.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Alone?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, my lady.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey looked steadily at the girl.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did she take anything with her?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The girl hesitated. Lady Carey frowned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It must be the truth, remember, Marie.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly, my lady! She took her small dressing-case.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey set her teeth hard. Then with a movement of her head she
+      dismissed the maid. She walked restlessly up and down the room. Then she
+      stopped short with a hard little laugh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If I give way like this,&rdquo; she murmured, &ldquo;I shall be positively hideous,
+      and after all, if she was there it was not possible for him&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She stopped short, and suddenly tearing the handkerchief which she had
+      been carrying into shreds threw the pieces upon the floor, and stamped
+      upon them. Then she laughed shortly, and turned towards the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now I must go and get rid of that poor fool outside,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;What a
+      bungler!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Brott was beside himself with impatience.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lucille is here,&rdquo; she announced, stepping in beside him. &ldquo;She has a
+      shocking headache and has gone to bed. As a matter of fact, I believe that
+      she was expecting to hear from you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Impossible!&rdquo; he answered shortly. He was beginning to distrust this
+      woman.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Never mind. You can make it up with her to-morrow. I was foolish to be
+      anxious about her at all. Are you coming in again?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They were at Carmarthen House. He handed her out.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, thanks! If you will allow me I will wish you good-night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She made her way into the ball-room, and found the Prince of Saxe
+      Leinitzer, who was just leaving.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you know where Lucille is?&rdquo; she asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He looked up at her sharply. &ldquo;Where?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At the Carlton Hotel&mdash;with him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He rose to his feet with slow but evil promptitude. His face just then was
+      very unlike the face of an angel. Lady Carey laughed aloud.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Poor man,&rdquo; she said mockingly. &ldquo;It is always the same when you and
+      Souspennier meet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He set his teeth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This time,&rdquo; he muttered, &ldquo;I hold the trumps.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She pointed at the clock. It was nearly four. &ldquo;She was there at eleven,&rdquo;
+       she remarked drily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXII
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      &ldquo;His Highness, the Prince of Saxe Leinitzer!&rdquo;
+     </h3>
+    <p>
+      Duson stood away from the door with a low bow. The Prince&mdash;in the
+      buttonhole of whose frock-coat was a large bunch of Russian violets,
+      passed across the threshold. Mr. Sabin rose slowly from his chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I fear,&rdquo; the Prince said suavely, &ldquo;that I am an early visitor. I can only
+      throw myself upon your indulgence and plead the urgency of my mission.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      His arrival appeared to have interrupted a late breakfast of the
+      Continental order. The small table at which Lucille and Mr. Sabin were
+      seated was covered with roses and several dishes of wonderful fruit. A
+      coffee equipage was before Lucille. Mr. Sabin, dressed with his usual
+      peculiar care and looking ten years younger, had just lit a cigarette.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We have been anticipating your visit, Prince,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin remarked, with
+      grim courtesy. &ldquo;Can we offer you coffee or a liqueur?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I thank you, no,&rdquo; the Prince answered. &ldquo;I seldom take anything before
+      lunch. Let me beg that you do not disturb yourselves. With your permission
+      I will take this easy-chair. So! That is excellent. We can now talk
+      undisturbed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin bowed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will find me,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;an excellent listener.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince smiled in an amiable manner. His eyes were fixed upon Lucille,
+      who had drawn her chair a little away from the table. What other woman in
+      the world who had passed her first youth could sit thus in the slanting
+      sunlight and remain beautiful?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will ask you to believe,&rdquo; the Prince said slowly, &ldquo;how sincerely I
+      regret this unavoidable interference in a domestic happiness so touching.
+      Nevertheless, I have come for the Countess. It is necessary that she
+      returns to Dorset House this morning.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will oblige me,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin remarked, &ldquo;by remembering that my wife is
+      the Duchesse de Souspennier, and by so addressing her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince spread out his hands&mdash;a deprecating gesture.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Alas!&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;for the present it is not possible. Until the little
+      affair upon which we are now engaged is finally disposed of it is
+      necessary that Lucille should be known by the title which she bears in her
+      own right, or by the name of her late husband, Mr. James B. Peterson.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That little affair,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin remarked, &ldquo;is, I presume, the matter which
+      you have come to explain to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince smiled and shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Explain! My dear Duke, that is not possible. It is not within your rights
+      to ask questions or to require any explanation as to anything which
+      Lucille is required to do by us. You must remember that our claim upon her
+      comes before yours. It is a claim which she cannot evade or deny. And in
+      pursuance of it, Countess, I deeply regret having to tell you that your
+      presence at Dorset House within the next hour is demanded.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille made no answer, but looked across the table at Mr. Sabin with a
+      little grimace.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is a comedy,&rdquo; she murmured. &ldquo;After all, it is a comedy!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin fingered his cigarette thoughtfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I believe,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;that the Duchess realises her responsibilities in
+      this matter. I myself have no wish to deny them. As ordinary members we
+      are both pledged to absolute obedience. I therefore place no embargo upon
+      the return of my wife to Dorset House. But there are certain conditions,
+      Prince, that considering the special circumstances of the case I feel
+      impelled to propose.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I can recognise,&rdquo; the Prince said, &ldquo;no conditions.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They are very harmless,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin continued calmly. &ldquo;The first is that
+      in a friendly way, and of course under the inviolable law of secrecy, you
+      explain to me for what part Lucille is cast in this little comedy; the
+      next that I be allowed to see her at reasonable intervals, and finally
+      that she is known by her rightful name as Duchesse de Souspennier.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The forced urbanity which the Prince had assumed fell away from him
+      without warning. The tone of his reply was almost a sneer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I repeat,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;that I can recognise no conditions.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is perhaps,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin continued, &ldquo;the wrong word to use. We submit to
+      your authority, but you and I are well aware that your discretionary
+      powers are large. I ask you to use them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I,&rdquo; the Prince said, &ldquo;refuse. Let me add that I intend to prevent any
+      recurrence of your little adventure of last night. Lucille shall not see
+      you again until her task is over. And as for you, my dear Duke, I desire
+      only your absence. I do not wish to hurt your feelings, but your name has
+      been associated in the past with too many failures to inspire us with any
+      confidence in engaging you as an ally. Countess, a carriage from Dorset
+      House awaits you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But Lucille sat still, and Mr. Sabin rose slowly to his feet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I thank you, Prince,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;for throwing away the mask. Fighting is
+      always better without the buttons. It is true that I have failed more than
+      once, but it is also true that my failures have been more magnificent than
+      your waddle across the plain of life. As for your present authority, I
+      challenge you to your face that you are using it to gain your private
+      ends. What I have said to you I shall repeat to those whose place is above
+      yours. Lucille shall go to Dorset House, but I warn you that I hold my
+      life a slight thing where her welfare is concerned. Your hand is upon the
+      lever of a great organization, I am only a unit in the world. Yet I would
+      have you remember that more than once, Prince, when you and I have met
+      with the odds in your favour the victory has been mine. Play the game
+      fairly, and you have nothing to fear from me but the open opposition I
+      have promised you. Bring but the shadow of evil upon her, misuse your
+      power but ever so slightly against her, and I warn you that I shall count
+      the few years of life left to me a trifle&mdash;of less than no account&mdash;until
+      you and I cry quits.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince smiled, a fat, good-natured smile, behind which the malice was
+      indeed well hidden.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come, come, my dear Souspennier,&rdquo; he declared. &ldquo;This is unworthy of you.
+      It is positively melodramatic. It reminds me of the plays of my
+      Fatherland, and of your own Adelphi Theatre. We should be men of the
+      world, you and I. You must take your defeats with your victories. I can
+      assure you that the welfare of the Countess Lucille shall be my special
+      care.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille for the first time spoke. She rose from her chair and rested her
+      hands affectionately upon her husband&rsquo;s shoulder.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dear Victor,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;remember that we are in London, and, need I add,
+      have confidence in me. The Prince of Saxe Leinitzer and I understand one
+      another, I believe. If we do not it is not my fault. My presence here at
+      this moment should prove to you how eagerly I shall look forward to the
+      time when our separation is no longer necessary.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She passed away into the inner room with a little farewell gesture tender
+      and regretful. Mr. Sabin resumed his seat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I believe, Prince,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;that no good can come of any further
+      conference between you and me. We understand one another too well. Might I
+      suggest therefore that you permit me to ring?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince rose to his feet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are right,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;The bandying of words between you and me is a
+      waste of time. We are both of us too old at the game. But come, before I
+      go I will do you a good turn. I will prove that I am in a generous mood.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin shrugged his shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If anything in this world could inspire me with fear,&rdquo; he remarked, &ldquo;it
+      would be the generosity of the Prince of Saxe Leinitzer.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince sighed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You always misunderstand me,&rdquo; he murmured. &ldquo;However, I will prove my
+      words. You spoke of an appeal.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered. &ldquo;I intend to impeach you for making use
+      of the powers entrusted to you for your own private ends&mdash;in other
+      words, for making an arbitrary misuse of your position.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is very well put,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I shall await the result of your appeal
+      in fear and trembling. I confess that I am very much afraid. But, come
+      now, I am going to be generous. I am going to help you on a little. Do you
+      know to whom your appeal must be made?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To the Grand Duke!&rdquo; Mr. Sabin replied.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah me!&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;how long indeed you have been absent from the world.
+      The Grand Duke is no longer the head of our little affair. Shall I tell
+      you who has succeeded him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I can easily find out,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, but I warned you that I was in a generous mood,&rdquo; the Prince said,
+      with a smile. &ldquo;I will save you the trouble. With your permission I will
+      whisper the name in your ear. It is not one which we mention lightly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He stepped forward and bent his head for a moment. Afterwards, as he drew
+      back, the smile upon his lips broadened until he showed all his teeth. It
+      was a veritable triumph. Mr. Sabin, taken wholly by surprise, had not been
+      able to conceal his consternation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is not possible,&rdquo; he exclaimed hoarsely. &ldquo;He would not dare.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But in his heart he knew that the Prince had spoken the truth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0023" id="link2HCH0023">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXIII
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;After all,&rdquo; said the Prince, looking up from the wine list, &ldquo;why cannot I
+      be satisfied with you? And why cannot you be satisfied with me? It would
+      save so much trouble.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey, who was slowly unwinding the white veil from her picture hat,
+      shrugged her shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear man,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;you could not seriously expect me to fall in
+      love with you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince sipped his wine&mdash;a cabinet hock of rare vintage&mdash;and
+      found it good. He leaned over towards his companion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why not?&rdquo; he asked. &ldquo;I wish that you would try&mdash;in earnest, I mean.
+      You are capable of great things, I believe&mdash;perhaps of the great
+      passion itself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps,&rdquo; she murmured derisively.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And yet,&rdquo; he continued, &ldquo;there has always been in our love-making a touch
+      of amateurishness. It is an awkward word, but I do not know how better to
+      explain myself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I understand you perfectly,&rdquo; she answered. &ldquo;I can also, I think, explain
+      it. It is because I never cared a rap about you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince did not appear altogether pleased. He curled his fair
+      moustache, and looked deprecatingly at his companion. She had so much the
+      air of a woman who has spoken the truth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear Muriel!&rdquo; he protested.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She looked at him insolently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My good man,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;whatever you do don&rsquo;t try and be sentimental.
+      You know quite well that I have never in my life pretended to care a rap
+      about you&mdash;except to pass the time. You are altogether too obvious.
+      Very young girls and very old women would rave about you. You simply don&rsquo;t
+      appeal to me. Perhaps I know you too well. What does it matter!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He sighed and examined a sauce critically. They were lunching at Prince&rsquo;s
+      alone, at a small table near the wall.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your taste,&rdquo; he remarked a little spitefully, &ldquo;would be considered a
+      trifle strange. Souspennier carries his years well, but he must be an old
+      man.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She sipped her wine thoughtfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Old or young,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;he is a man, and all my life I have loved men,&mdash;strong
+      men. To have him here opposite to me at this moment, mine, belonging to
+      me, the slave of my will, I would give&mdash;well, I would give&mdash;a
+      year of my life&mdash;my new tiara&mdash;anything!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What a pity,&rdquo; he murmured, &ldquo;that we cannot make an exchange, you and I,
+      Lucille and he!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, Lucille!&rdquo; she murmured. &ldquo;Well, she is beautiful. That goes for much.
+      And she has the grand air. But, heavens, how stupid!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Stupid!&rdquo; he repeated doubtfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She drummed nervously upon the tablecloth with her fingers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, not stupid in the ordinary way, of course, but yet a fool. I should
+      like to see man or devil try and separate us if I belonged to him&mdash;until
+      I was tired of him. That would come, of course. It comes always. It is the
+      hideous part of life.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You look always,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;a little too far forward. It is a mistake.
+      After all, it is the present only which concerns us.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Admirable philosophy,&rdquo; she laughed scornfully, &ldquo;but when one is bored to
+      death in the present one must look forward or backward for consolation.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He continued his lunch in silence for a while.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am rebuked!&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There came a pause in the courses. He looked at her critically. She was
+      very handsomely dressed in a walking costume of dove-coloured grey. The
+      ostrich feathers which drooped from her large hat were almost priceless.
+      She had the undeniable air of being a person of breeding. But she was
+      paler even than usual, her hair, notwithstanding its careful arrangement,
+      gave signs of being a little thin in front. There were wrinkles at the
+      corners of her eyes. She knew these things, but she bore his inspection
+      with indifference.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wonder,&rdquo; he said reflectively, &ldquo;what we men see in you. You have plenty
+      of admirers. They say that Grefton got himself shot out at the front
+      because you treated him badly. Yet&mdash;you are not much to look at, are
+      you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She laughed at him. Hers was never a pleasant laugh, but this time it was
+      at least natural.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How discriminating,&rdquo; she declared. &ldquo;I am an ugly woman, and men of taste
+      usually prefer ugly women. Then I am always well dressed. I know how to
+      wear my clothes. And I have a shocking reputation. A really wicked woman,
+      I once heard pious old Lady Surbiton call me! Dear old thing! It did me no
+      end of good. Then I have the very great advantage of never caring for any
+      one more than a few days together. Men find that annoying.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have violent fancies,&rdquo; he remarked, &ldquo;and strange ones.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps,&rdquo; she admitted. &ldquo;They concern no one except myself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This Souspennier craze, for instance!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, you can&rsquo;t say that I&rsquo;m not honest. It is positively my only virtue.
+      I adore the truth. I loathe a lie. That is one reason, I daresay, why I
+      can only barely tolerate you. You are a shocking&mdash;a gross liar.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Muriel!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, don&rsquo;t look at me like that,&rdquo; she exclaimed irritably. &ldquo;You must hear
+      the truth sometimes. And now, please remember that I came to lunch with
+      you to hear about your visit this morning.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince gnawed his moustache, and the light in his eyes was not a
+      pleasant thing to see. This woman with her reckless life, her odd
+      fascination, her brusque hatred of affectations, was a constant torment to
+      him. If only he could once get her thoroughly into his power.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My visit,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;was wholly successful. It could not well be
+      otherwise. Lucille has returned to Dorset House. Souspennier is confounded
+      altogether by a little revelation which I ventured to make. He spoke of an
+      appeal. I let him know with whom he would have to deal. I left him
+      nerveless and crushed. He can do nothing save by open revolt. And if he
+      tries that&mdash;well, there will be no more of this wonderful Mr. Sabin.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Altogether a triumph to you,&rdquo; she remarked scornfully. &ldquo;Oh, I know the
+      sort of thing. But, after all, my dear Ferdinand, what of last night. I
+      hate the woman, but she played the game, and played it well. We were
+      fooled, both of us. And to think that I&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She broke off with a short laugh. The Prince looked at her curiously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;you had some idea of consoling the desolate husband?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps I had,&rdquo; she answered coolly. &ldquo;It didn&rsquo;t come off, did it? Order
+      me some coffee, and give me a cigarette, my friend. I have something else
+      to say to you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He obeyed her, and she leaned back in the high chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Listen to me,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I have nothing whatever to do with you and
+      Lucille. I suppose you will get your revenge on Souspennier through her.
+      It won&rsquo;t be like you if you don&rsquo;t try, and you ought to have the game
+      pretty well in your own hands. But I won&rsquo;t have Souspennier harmed. You
+      understand?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He shrugged his shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Souspennier,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;must take care. If he oversteps the bounds he
+      must pay the penalty.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She leaned forward. There was a look in her face which he knew very well.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You and I understand one another,&rdquo; she said coolly. &ldquo;If you want me for
+      an enemy you can have me. Very likely I shall tell you before long that
+      you can do what you like with the man. But until I do it will be very
+      dangerous for you if harm comes to him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is no use,&rdquo; he answered doggedly. &ldquo;If he attacks he must be silenced.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If he attacks,&rdquo; she answered, &ldquo;you must give me twenty-four hours clear
+      notice before you move a hand against him. Afterwards&mdash;well, we will
+      discuss that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You had better,&rdquo; he said, looking at her with an ugly gleam in his eyes,
+      &ldquo;persuade him to take you for a little tour on the Continent. It would be
+      safer.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If he would come,&rdquo; she said coolly, &ldquo;I would go to-morrow. But he won&rsquo;t&mdash;just
+      yet. Never mind. You have heard what I wanted to say. Now shall we go? I
+      am going to get some sleep this afternoon. Everybody tells me that I look
+      like a ghost.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why not come to Grosvenor Square with me?&rdquo; he leaning a little across the
+      table. &ldquo;Patoff shall make you some Russian tea, and afterwards you shall
+      sleep as long as you like.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How idyllic!&rdquo; she answered, with a faint sarcastic smile. &ldquo;It goes to my
+      heart to decline so charming an invitation. But, to tell you the truth, it
+      would bore me excessively.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He muttered something under his breath which startled the waiter at his
+      elbow. Then he followed her out of the room. She paused for a few moments
+      in the portico to finish buttoning her gloves.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Many thanks for my lunch,&rdquo; she said, nodding to him carelessly. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m sure
+      I&rsquo;ve been a delightful companion.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have been a very tormenting one,&rdquo; he answered gloomily as he followed
+      her out on to the pavement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You should try Lucille,&rdquo; she suggested maliciously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He stood by her side while they waited for her carriage, and looked at her
+      critically. Her slim, elegant figure had never seemed more attractive to
+      him. Even the insolence of her tone and manner had an odd sort of
+      fascination. He tried to hold for a moment the fingers which grasped her
+      skirt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think,&rdquo; he whispered, &ldquo;that after you Lucille would be dull!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is because Lucille has morals and a conscience,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;and I
+      have neither. But, dear me, how much more comfortably one gets on without
+      them. No, thank you, Prince. My coupe is only built for one. Remember.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She flung him a careless nod from the window. The Prince remained on the
+      pavement until after the little brougham had driven away. Then he smiled
+      softly to himself as he turned to follow it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I think not! I think that she will not get our good friend
+      Souspennier. We shall see!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0024" id="link2HCH0024">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXIV
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      A barely furnished man&rsquo;s room, comfortable, austere, scholarly. The refuge
+      of a busy man, to judge by the piles of books and papers which littered
+      the large open writing-table. There were despatch boxes turned upside
+      down, a sea of parchment and foolscap. In the midst of it all a man deep
+      in thought.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A visitor, entering with the freedom of an old acquaintance, laid his hand
+      upon his shoulder and greeted him with an air of suppressed enthusiasm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Planning the campaign, eh, Brott? Or is that a handbook to Court
+      etiquette? You will need it within the week. There are all sorts of
+      rumours at the clubs.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Brott shook himself free from his fit of apathetic reflection. He would
+      not have dared to tell his visitor where his thoughts had been for the
+      last half hour.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Somehow,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I do not think that little trip to Windsor will come
+      just yet. The King will never send for me unless he is compelled.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      His visitor, an ex-Cabinet Minister, a pronounced Radical and a lifelong
+      friend of Brott&rsquo;s, shrugged his shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That time,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;is very close at hand. He will send for
+      Letheringham first, of course, and great pressure will be brought to bear
+      upon him to form a ministry. But without you he will be helpless. He has
+      not the confidence of the people.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Without me,&rdquo; Brott repeated slowly. &ldquo;You think then that I should not
+      accept office with Letheringham?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      His visitor regarded him steadily for a moment, open-mouthed, obviously
+      taken aback.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Brott, are you in your right senses?&rdquo; he asked incredulously. &ldquo;Do you
+      know what you are saying?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Brott laughed a little nervously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is a great issue, Grahame,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I will confess that I am in an
+      undecided state. I am not sure that the country is in a sufficiently
+      advanced state for our propaganda. Is this really our opportunity, or is
+      it only the shadow of what is to come thrown before? If we show our hand
+      too soon all is lost for this generation. Don&rsquo;t look at me as though I
+      were insane, Grahame. Remember that the country is only just free from a
+      long era of Conservative rule.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The better our opportunity,&rdquo; Grahame answered vigorously. &ldquo;Two decades of
+      puppet government are enervating, I admit, but they only pave the way more
+      surely to the inevitable reaction. What is the matter with you, Brott? Are
+      you ill? This is the great moment of our lives. You must speak at
+      Manchester and Birmingham within this week. Glasgow is already preparing
+      for you. Everything and everybody waits for your judgment. Good God, man,
+      it&rsquo;s magnificent! Where&rsquo;s your enthusiasm? Within a month you must be
+      Prime Minister, and we will show the world the way to a new era.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Brott sat quite still. His friend&rsquo;s words had stirred him for the moment.
+      Yet he seemed the victim of a curious indecision. Grahame leaned over
+      towards him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Brott, old friend,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;you are not ill?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Brott shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am perfectly well,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Grahame hesitated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is a delicate thing to mention,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Perhaps I shall pass even
+      the bounds of our old comradeship. But you have changed. Something is
+      wrong with you. What is it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is nothing,&rdquo; Brott answered, looking up. &ldquo;It is your fancy. I am
+      well enough.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Grahame&rsquo;s face was dark with anxiety.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is no idle curiosity of mine,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;You know me better than
+      that. But the cause which is nearer my heart than life itself is at stake.
+      Brott, you are the people&rsquo;s man, their promised redeemer. Think of them,
+      the toilers, the oppressed, God&rsquo;s children, groaning under the iniquitous
+      laws of generations of evil statesmanship. It is the dawn of their new
+      day, their faces are turned to you. Man, can&rsquo;t you hear them crying? You
+      can&rsquo;t fail them. You mustn&rsquo;t. I don&rsquo;t know what is the matter with you,
+      Brott, but away with it. Free yourself, man.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Brott sighed wearily, but already there was a change in him. His face was
+      hardening&mdash;the lines in his face deepened. Grahame continued hastily&mdash;eagerly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Public men,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;are always at the mercy of the halfpenny press,
+      but you know, Brott, your appearance so often in Society lately has set
+      men&rsquo;s tongues wagging. There is no harm done, but it is time to stop them.
+      You are right to want to understand these people. You must go down amongst
+      them. It has been slumming in Mayfair for you, I know. But have done with
+      it now. It is these people we are going to fight. Let it be open war. Let
+      them hear your programme at Glasgow. We don&rsquo;t want another French
+      Revolution, but it is going to be war against the drones, fierce,
+      merciless war! You must break with them, Brott, once and for ever. And the
+      time is now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Brott held out his hand across the table. No one but this one man could
+      have read the struggle in his face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are right, Grahame. I thank you. I thank you as much for what you
+      have left unsaid as for what you have said. I was a fool to think of
+      compromising. Letheringham is a nerveless leader. We should have gone
+      pottering on for another seven years. Thank God that you came when you
+      did. See here!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He tossed him over a letter. Grahame&rsquo;s cheek paled as he read.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Already!&rdquo; he murmured.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Brott nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Read it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Grahame devoured every word. His eyes lit up with excitement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My prophecy exactly,&rdquo; he exclaimed, laying it down. &ldquo;It is as I said. He
+      cannot form the ministry without you. His letter is abject. He gives
+      himself away. It is an entreaty. And your answer?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Has not yet gone,&rdquo; Brott said. &ldquo;You shall write it yourself if you like.
+      I am thankful that you came when you did.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You were hesitating?&rdquo; Grahame exclaimed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Grahame looked at him in wonder, and Brott faced him sturdily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It seems like treason to you, Grahame!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;So it does to me now. I
+      want nothing in the future to come between us,&rdquo; he continued more slowly,
+      &ldquo;and I should like if I can to expunge the memory of this interview. And
+      so I am going to tell you the truth.&rdquo; Grahame held out his hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I can forget without.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Brott shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;You had better understand everything. The halfpenny press
+      told the truth. Yet only half the truth. I have been to all these places,
+      wasted my time, wasted their time, from a purely selfish reason&mdash;to
+      be near the only woman I have ever cared for, the woman, Grahame!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I knew it,&rdquo; Grahame murmured. &ldquo;I fought against the belief, I thought
+      that I had stifled it. But I knew it all the time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If I have seemed lukewarm sometimes of late,&rdquo; Brott said, &ldquo;there is the
+      cause. She is an aristocrat, and my politics are hateful to her. She has
+      told me so seriously, playfully, angrily. She has let me feel it in a
+      hundred ways. She has drawn me into discussions and shown the utmost
+      horror of my views. I have cared for her all my life, and she knows it.
+      And I think, Grahame, that lately she has been trying constantly,
+      persistently, to tone down my opinions. She has let me understand that
+      they are a bar between us. And it is a horrible confession, Grahame, but I
+      believe that I was wavering. This invitation from Letheringham seemed such
+      a wonderful opportunity for compromise.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This must never go out of the room,&rdquo; Grahame said hoarsely. &ldquo;It would
+      ruin your popularity. They would never trust you again.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shall tell no one else,&rdquo; Brott said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And it is over?&rdquo; Grahame demanded eagerly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is over.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      The Duke of Dorset, who entertained for his party, gave a great dinner
+      that night at Dorset House, and towards its close the Prince of Saxe
+      Leinitzer, who was almost the only non-political guest, moved up to his
+      host in response to an eager summons. The Duke was perturbed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have heard the news, Saxe Leinitzer?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I did not know of any news,&rdquo; the Prince answered. &ldquo;What is it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Brott has refused to join with Letheringham in forming a ministry. It is
+      rumoured even that a coalition was proposed, and that Brott would have
+      nothing to do with it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince looked into his wineglass.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is disturbing news,&rdquo; the Duke continued. &ldquo;You do not seem to
+      appreciate its significance.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince looked up again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps not,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;You shall explain to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Brott refuses to compromise,&rdquo; the Duke said. &ldquo;He stands for a ministry of
+      his own selection. Heaven only knows what mischief this may mean. His
+      doctrines are thoroughly revolutionary. He is an iconoclast with a genius
+      for destruction. But he has the ear of the people. He is to-day their
+      Rienzi.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And Lucille?&rdquo; he remarked. &ldquo;What does she say?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have not spoken to her,&rdquo; the Duke answered. &ldquo;The news has only just
+      come.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We will speak to her,&rdquo; the Prince said, &ldquo;together.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Afterwards in the library there was a sort of informal meeting, and their
+      opportunity came.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So you have failed, Countess,&rdquo; her host said, knitting his grey brows at
+      her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She smilingly acknowledged defeat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I can assure you,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;that I was very near success. Only on
+      Monday he had virtually made up his mind to abandon the extreme party and
+      cast in his lot with Letheringham. What has happened to change him I do
+      not know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince curled his fair moustache.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is a pity,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;that he changed his mind. For one thing is very
+      certain. The Duke and I are agreed upon it. A Brott ministry must never be
+      formed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She looked up quickly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you mean?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince answered her without hesitation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If one course fails,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;another must be adopted. I regret having
+      to make use of means which are somewhat clumsy and obvious. But our
+      pronouncement on this one point is final. Brott must not be allowed to
+      form a ministry.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She looked at him with something like horror in her soft full eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What would you do?&rdquo; she murmured.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince shrugged his shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;we are not quite medieval enough to adopt the only
+      really sensible method and remove Mr. Brott permanently from the face of
+      the earth. We should stop a little short of that, but I can assure you
+      that Mr. Brott&rsquo;s health for the next few months is a matter for grave
+      uncertainty. It is a pity for his sake that you failed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She bit her lip.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you know if he is still in London?&rdquo; she asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He must be on the point of leaving for Scotland,&rdquo; the Duke answered. &ldquo;If
+      he once mounts the platform at Glasgow there will be no further chance of
+      any compromise. He will be committed irretrievably to his campaign of
+      anarchy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And to his own disaster,&rdquo; the Prince murmured.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille remained for a moment deep in thought. Then she looked up.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If I can find him before he starts,&rdquo; she said hurriedly, &ldquo;I will make one
+      last effort.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0025" id="link2HCH0025">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXV
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      He peered forward over his desk at the tall graceful figure whose entrance
+      had been so noiseless, and whose footsteps had been so light that she
+      stood almost within a few feet of him before he was even aware of her
+      presence. Then his surprise was so great that he could only gasp out her
+      name.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You! Lucille!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She smiled upon him delightfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Me! Lucille! Don&rsquo;t blame your servant. I assured him that I was expected,
+      so he allowed me to enter unannounced. His astonishment was a delightful
+      testimony to your reputation, by the bye. He was evidently not used to
+      these invasions.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Brott had recovered himself by this time, and if any emotion still
+      remained he was master of it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You must forgive my surprise!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;You have of course something
+      important to say to me. Will you not loosen your cloak?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She unfastened the clasp and seated herself in his most comfortable chair.
+      The firelight flashed and glittered on the silver ornaments of her dress;
+      her neck and arms, with their burden of jewels, gleamed like porcelain in
+      the semi-darkness outside the halo of his student lamp. And he saw that
+      her dark hair hung low behind in graceful folds as he had once admired it.
+      He stood a little apart, and she noted his traveling clothes and the
+      various signs of a journey about the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You may be glad to see me,&rdquo; she remarked, looking at him with a smile.
+      &ldquo;You don&rsquo;t look it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am anxious to hear your news,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;I am convinced that you
+      have something important to say to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Supposing,&rdquo; she answered, still looking at him steadily, &ldquo;supposing I
+      were to say that I had no object in coming here at all&mdash;that it was
+      merely a whim? What should you say then?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I should take the liberty,&rdquo; he answered quietly, &ldquo;of doubting the
+      evidence of my senses.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a moment&rsquo;s silence. She felt his aloofness. It awoke in her some
+      of the enthusiasm with which this mission itself had failed to inspire
+      her. This man was measuring his strength against hers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was not altogether a whim,&rdquo; she said, her eyes falling from his, &ldquo;and
+      yet&mdash;now I am here&mdash;it does not seem easy to say what was in my
+      mind.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He glanced towards the clock.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I fear,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;that it may sound ungallant, but in case this somewhat
+      mysterious mission of yours is of any importance I had better perhaps tell
+      you that in twenty minutes I must leave to catch the Scotch mail.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She rose at once to her feet, and swept her cloak haughtily around her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have made a mistake,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Be so good as to pardon my intrusion.
+      I shall not trouble you again.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She was half-way across the room. She was at the door, her hand was upon
+      the handle. He was white to the lips, his whole frame was shaking with the
+      effort of intense repression. He kept silence, till only a flutter of her
+      cloak was to be seen in the doorway. And then the cry which he had tried
+      so hard to stifle broke from his lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lucille! Lucille!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She hesitated, and came back&mdash;looking at him, so he thought, with
+      trembling lips and eyes soft with unshed tears.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was a brute,&rdquo; he murmured. &ldquo;I ought to be grateful for this chance of
+      seeing you once more, of saying good-bye to you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good-bye!&rdquo; she repeated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; he said gravely. &ldquo;It must be good-bye. I have a great work before
+      me, and it will cut me off completely from all association with your world
+      and your friends. Something wider and deeper than an ocean will divide us.
+      Something so wide that our hands will never reach across.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You can talk about it very calmly,&rdquo; she said, without looking at him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have been disciplining myself,&rdquo; he answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She rested her face upon her hand, and looked into the fire.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I suppose,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;this means that you have refused Mr.
+      Letheringham&rsquo;s offer.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have refused it,&rdquo; he answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am sorry,&rdquo; she said simply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She rose from her chair with a sudden start, began to draw on her cloak,
+      and then let it fall altogether from her shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why do you do this?&rdquo; she asked earnestly. &ldquo;Is it that you are so
+      ambitious? You used not to be so&mdash;in the old days.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He laughed bitterly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You too, then,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;can remember. Ambitious! Well, why not? To be
+      Premier of England, to stand for the people, to carry through to its
+      logical consummation a bloodless revolution, surely this is worth while.
+      Is there anything in the world better worth having than power?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; she answered, looking him full in the eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is it then? Let me know before it is too late.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Love!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He threw his arms about her. For a moment she was powerless in his grasp.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So be it then,&rdquo; he cried fiercely. &ldquo;Give me the one, and I will deny the
+      other. Only no half measures! I will drink to the bottom of the cup or not
+      at all.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She shook herself free from him, breathless, consumed with an anger to
+      which she dared not give voice. For a moment or two she was speechless.
+      Her bosom rose and fell, a bright streak of colour flared in her cheeks.
+      Brott stood away from her, white and stern.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You&mdash;are clumsy!&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;You frighten me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her words carried no conviction. He looked at her with a new suspicion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You talk like a child,&rdquo; he answered roughly, &ldquo;or else your whole conduct
+      is a fraud. For months I have been your slave. I have abandoned my
+      principles, given you my time, followed at your heels like a tame dog. And
+      for what? You will not marry me, you will not commit yourself to anything.
+      You are a past mistress in the art of binding fools to your chariot
+      wheels. You know that I love you&mdash;that there breathes on this earth
+      no other woman for me but you. I have told you this in all save words a
+      hundred times. And now&mdash;now it is my turn. I have been played with
+      long enough. You are here unbidden&mdash;unexpected. You can consider that
+      door locked. Now tell me why you came.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille had recovered herself. She stood before him, white but calm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;I am a woman.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That means that you came without reason&mdash;on impulse?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I came,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;because I heard that you were about to take a step
+      which must separate us for ever.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And that,&rdquo; he asked, &ldquo;disturbed you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come, we are drawing nearer together,&rdquo; he said, a kindling light in his
+      eyes. &ldquo;Now answer me this. How much do you care if this eternal separation
+      does come? Here am I on the threshold of action. Unless I change my mind
+      within ten minutes I must throw in my lot with those whom you and your
+      Order loathe and despise. There can be no half measures. I must be their
+      leader, or I must vanish from the face of the political world. This I will
+      do if you bid me. But the price must be yourself&mdash;wholly, without
+      reservation&mdash;yourself, body and soul.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You care&mdash;as much as that?&rdquo; she murmured.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ask me no questions, answer mine!&rdquo; he cried fiercely. &ldquo;You shall stay
+      with me here&mdash;or in five minutes I leave on my campaign.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She laughed musically.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is positively delicious,&rdquo; she exclaimed. &ldquo;I am being made love to in
+      medieval fashion. Other times other manners, sir! Will you listen to
+      reason?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will listen to nothing&mdash;save your answer, yes or no,&rdquo; he declared,
+      drawing on his overcoat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She laid her hand upon his shoulder.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Reginald,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;you are like the whirlwind&mdash;and how can I
+      answer you in five minutes!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You can answer me in one,&rdquo; he declared fiercely. &ldquo;Will you pay my price
+      if I do your bidding? Yes or no! The price is yourself. Now! Yes or no?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She drew on her own cloak and fastened the clasp with shaking fingers.
+      Then she turned towards the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wish you good-bye and good fortune, Reginald,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I daresay we
+      may not meet again. It will be better that we do not.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This then is your answer?&rdquo; he cried.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She looked around at him. Was it his fancy, or were those tears in her
+      eyes? Or was she really so wonderful an actress?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you think,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;that if I had not cared I should have come
+      here?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tell me that in plain words,&rdquo; he cried. &ldquo;It is all I ask.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The door was suddenly opened. Grahame stood upon the threshold. He looked
+      beyond Lucille to Brott.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You must really forgive me,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;but there is barely time to catch
+      the train, Brott. I have a hansom waiting, and your luggage is on.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Brott answered nothing. Lucille held out her hands to him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes or no?&rdquo; he asked her in a low hoarse tone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You must&mdash;give me time! I don&rsquo;t want to lose you. I&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He caught up his coat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Coming, Grahame,&rdquo; he said firmly. &ldquo;Countess, I must beg your pardon ten
+      thousand times for this abrupt departure. My servants will call your
+      carriage.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She leaned towards him, beautiful, anxious, alluring.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Reginald!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes or no,&rdquo; he whispered in her ear.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Give me until to-morrow,&rdquo; she faltered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not one moment,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;Yes&mdash;now, this instant&mdash;or I
+      go!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Brott! My dear man, we have not a second to lose.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You hear!&rdquo; he muttered. &ldquo;Yes or no?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She trembled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Give me until to-morrow,&rdquo; she begged. &ldquo;It is for your own sake. For your
+      own safety.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He turned on his heel! His muttered speech was profane, but inarticulate.
+      He sprang into the hansom by Grahame&rsquo;s side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Euston!&rdquo; the latter cried through the trap-door. &ldquo;Double fare, cabby. We
+      must catch the Scotchman.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille came out a few moments later, and looked up and down the street as
+      her brougham drove smartly up. The hansom was fast disappearing in the
+      distance. She looked after it and sighed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0026" id="link2HCH0026">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXVI
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Lucille gave a little start of amazement as she realised that she was not
+      alone in the brougham. She reached out for the check-cord, but a strong
+      hand held hers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear Lucille,&rdquo; a familiar voice exclaimed, &ldquo;why this alarm? Is it your
+      nerves or your eyesight which is failing you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her hand dropped. She turned towards him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is you, then, Prince!&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;But why are you here? I do not
+      understand.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince shrugged his shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is so simple,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;We are all very anxious indeed to hear the
+      result of your interview with Brott&mdash;and apart from that, I
+      personally have too few opportunities to act as your escort to let a
+      chance go by. I trust that my presence is not displeasing to you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She laughed a little uneasily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is at any rate unnecessary,&rdquo; she answered. &ldquo;But since you are here I
+      may as well make my confession. I have failed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is incredible,&rdquo; the Prince murmured.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As you will&mdash;but it is true,&rdquo; she answered. &ldquo;I have done my very
+      best, or rather my worst, and the result has been failure. Mr. Brott has a
+      great friend&mdash;a man named Grahame, whose influence prevailed against
+      mine. He has gone to Scotland.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is serious news,&rdquo; the Prince said quietly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille leaned back amongst the cushions.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;After all,&rdquo; she declared, &ldquo;we are all out of place in this country. There
+      is no scope whatever for such schemes and intrigues as you and all the
+      rest of them delight in. In France and Russia, even in Austria, it is
+      different. The working of all great organisation there is underground&mdash;it
+      is easy enough to meet plot by counterplot, to suborn, to deceive, to
+      undermine. But here all the great games of life seem to be played with the
+      cards upon the table. We are hopelessly out of place. I cannot think,
+      Prince, what ill chance led you to ever contemplate making your
+      headquarters in London.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince stroked his long moustache.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is all very well, Lucille,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;but you must remember that in
+      England we have very large subscriptions to the Order. These people will
+      not go on paying for nothing. There was a meeting of the London branch a
+      few months ago, and it was decided that unless some practical work was
+      done in this country all English subscriptions should cease. We had no
+      alternative but to come over and attempt something. Brott is of course the
+      bete noire of our friends here. He is distinctly the man to be struck at.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And what evil stroke of fortune,&rdquo; Lucille asked, &ldquo;induced you to send for
+      me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is a very cruel speech, dear lady,&rdquo; the Prince murmured.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I hope,&rdquo; Lucille said, &ldquo;that you have never for a moment imagined that I
+      find any pleasure in what I am called upon to do.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why not? It must be interesting. You can have had no sympathy with Brott&mdash;a
+      hopeless plebeian, a very paragon of Anglo-Saxon stupidity?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille laughed scornfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Reginald Brott is a man, at any rate, and an honest one,&rdquo; she answered.
+      &ldquo;But I am too selfish to think much of him. It is myself whom I pity. I
+      have a home, Prince, and a husband. I want them both.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You amaze me,&rdquo; the Prince said slowly. &ldquo;Lucille, indeed, you amaze me.
+      You have been buried alive for three years. Positively we believed that
+      our summons would sound to you like a message from Heaven.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille was silent for a moment. She rubbed the mist from the carriage
+      window and looked out into the streets.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;I hope that you realise now how completely you have
+      misunderstood me. I was perfectly happy in America. I have been perfectly
+      miserable here. I suppose that I have grown too old for intrigues and
+      adventures.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Too old, Lucille,&rdquo; the Prince murmured, leaning a little towards her.
+      &ldquo;Lucille, you are the most beautiful woman in London. Many others may have
+      told you so, but there is no one, Lucille, who is so devotedly, so
+      hopelessly your slave as I.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She drew her hand away, and sat back in her corner. The man&rsquo;s hot breath
+      fell upon her cheek, his eyes seemed almost phosphorescent in the
+      darkness. Lucille could scarcely keep the biting words from her tongue.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You do not answer me, Lucille. You do not speak even a single kind word
+      to me. Come! Surely we are old friends. We should understand one another.
+      It is not a great deal that I ask from your kindness&mdash;not a great
+      deal to you, but it is all the difference between happiness and misery for
+      me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is a very worn-out game, Prince,&rdquo; Lucille said coldly. &ldquo;You have
+      been making love to women in very much the same manner for twenty years,
+      and I&mdash;well, to be frank, I am utterly weary of being made love to
+      like a doll. Laugh at me as you will, my husband is the only man who
+      interests me in the slightest. My failure to-day is almost welcome to me.
+      It has at least brought my work here to a close. Come, Prince, if you want
+      to earn my eternal gratitude, tell me now that I am a free woman.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You give me credit,&rdquo; the Prince said slowly, &ldquo;for great generosity. If I
+      let you go it seems to me that I shall lose you altogether. You will go to
+      your husband. He will take you away!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why not?&rdquo; Lucille asked. &ldquo;I want to go. I am tired of London. You cannot
+      lose what you never possessed&mdash;what you never had the slightest
+      chance of possessing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince laughed softly&mdash;not a pleasant laugh, not even a mirthful
+      one.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dear lady,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;you speak not wisely. For I am very much in earnest
+      when I say that I love you, and until you are kinder to me I shall not let
+      you go.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is rather a dangerous threat, is it not?&rdquo; Lucille asked. &ldquo;You dare
+      to tell me openly that you will abuse your position, that you will keep me
+      bound a servant to the cause, because of this foolish fancy of yours?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince smiled at her through the gloom&mdash;a white, set smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is no foolish fancy, Lucille. You will find that out before long. You
+      have been cold to me all your life. Yet you would find me a better friend
+      than enemy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If I am to choose,&rdquo; she said steadily, &ldquo;I shall choose the latter.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As you will,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;In time you will change your mind.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The carriage had stopped. The Prince alighted and held out his hand.
+      Lucille half rose, and then with her foot upon the step she paused and
+      looked around.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where are we?&rdquo; she exclaimed. &ldquo;This is not Dorset House.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, we are in Grosvenor Square,&rdquo; the Prince answered. &ldquo;I forgot to tell
+      you that we have a meeting arranged for here this evening. Permit me.&rdquo; But
+      Lucille resumed her seat in the carriage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is your house, is it not?&rdquo; she asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. My house assuredly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well,&rdquo; Lucille said. &ldquo;I will come in when the Duchess of Dorset
+      shows herself at the window or the front door&mdash;or Felix, or even De
+      Brouillae.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince still held open the carriage door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They will all be here,&rdquo; he assured her. &ldquo;We are a few minutes early.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then I will drive round to Dorset House and fetch the Duchess. It is only
+      a few yards.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince hesitated. His cheeks were very white, and something like a
+      scowl was blackening his heavy, insipid face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lucille,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;you are very foolish. It is not much I ask of you,
+      but that little I will have or I pledge my word to it that things shall go
+      ill with you and your husband. There is plain speech for you. Do not be
+      absurd. Come within, and let us talk. What do you fear? The house is full
+      of servants, and the carriage can wait for you here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille smiled at him&mdash;a maddening smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am not a child,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;and such conversations as I am forced to
+      hold with you will not be under your own roof. Be so good as to tell the
+      coachman to drive to Dorset House.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince turned on his heel with a furious oath.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He can drive you to Hell,&rdquo; he answered thickly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille found the Duchess and Lady Carey together at Dorset House. She
+      looked from one to the other.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I thought that there was a meeting to-night,&rdquo; she remarked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Duchess shook her head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not to-night,&rdquo; she answered. &ldquo;It would not be possible. General Dolinski
+      is dining at Marlborough House, and De Broullae is in Paris. Now tell us
+      all about Mr. Brott.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He has gone to Scotland,&rdquo; Lucille answered. &ldquo;I have failed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey looked up from the depths of the chair in which she was
+      lounging.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And the prince?&rdquo; she asked. &ldquo;He went to meet you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He also failed,&rdquo; Lucille answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0027" id="link2HCH0027">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXVII
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Mr. SABIN drew a little breath, partly of satisfaction because he had
+      discovered the place he sought, and partly of disgust at the neighbourhood
+      in which he found himself. Nevertheless, he descended three steps from the
+      court into which he had been directed, and pushed open the swing door,
+      behind which Emil Sachs announced his desire to supply the world with
+      dinners at eightpence and vin ordinaire at fourpence the small bottle.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A stout black-eyed woman looked up at his entrance from behind the
+      counter. The place was empty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What does monsieur require she asked, peering forward through the gloom
+      with some suspicion. For the eightpenny dinners were the scorn of the
+      neighbourhood, and strangers were rare in the wine shop of Emil Sachs.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;One of your excellent omelettes, my good Annette,&rdquo; he answered, &ldquo;if your
+      hand has not lost its cunning!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She gave a little cry.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is monsieur!&rdquo; she exclaimed. &ldquo;After all these years it is monsieur!
+      Ah, you will pardon that I did not recognise you. This place is a cellar.
+      Monsieur has not changed. In the daylight one would know him anywhere.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The woman talked fast, but even in that dim light Mr. Sabin knew quite
+      well that she was shaking with fear. He could see the corners of her mouth
+      twitch. Her black eyes rolled incessantly, but refused to meet his. Mr.
+      Sabin frowned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are not glad to see me, Annette!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She leaned over the counter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For monsieur&rsquo;s own sake,&rdquo; she whispered, &ldquo;go!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin stood quite still for a short space of time.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Can I rest in there for a few minutes?&rdquo; he asked, pointing to the door
+      which led into the room beyond.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The woman hesitated. She looked up at the clock and down again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Emil will return,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;at three. Monsieur were best out of the
+      neighbourhood before then. For ten minutes it might be safe.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin passed forward. The woman lifted the flap of the counter and
+      followed him. Within was a smaller room, far cleaner and better appointed
+      than the general appearance of the place promised. Mr. Sabin seated
+      himself at one of the small tables. The linen cloth, he noticed, was
+      spotless, the cutlery and appointments polished and clean.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This, I presume,&rdquo; he remarked, &ldquo;is not where you serve the eightpenny
+      table d&rsquo;hote?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The woman shrugged her shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But it would not be possible,&rdquo; she answered. &ldquo;We have no customers for
+      that. If one arrives we put together a few scraps. But one must make a
+      pretense. Monsieur understands?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will take,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;a small glass of fin champagne.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She vanished, and reappeared almost immediately with the brandy in a
+      quaintly cut liqueur glass. A glance at the clock as she passed seemed to
+      have increased her anxiety.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If monsieur will drink his liqueur and depart,&rdquo; she prayed. &ldquo;Indeed, it
+      will be for the best.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin set down his glass. His steadfast gaze seemed to reduce Annette
+      into a state of nervous panic.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Annette,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;they have placed me upon the list.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is true, monsieur,&rdquo; she answered. &ldquo;Why do you come here?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wanted to know first for certain that they had ventured so far,&rdquo; Mr.
+      Sabin said. &ldquo;I believe that I am only the second person in this country
+      who has been so much honoured.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The woman drew nearer to him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;your only danger is to venture into such parts as
+      these. London is so safe, and the law is merciless. They only watch. They
+      will attempt nothing. Do not leave England. There is here no machinery of
+      criminals. Besides, the life of monsieur is insured.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Insured?&rdquo; Mr. Sabin remarked quietly. &ldquo;That is good news. And who pays
+      the premium?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A great lady, monsieur! I know no more. Monsieur must go indeed. He has
+      found his way into the only place in London where he is not safe.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin rose.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are expecting, perhaps,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;one of my friends from the&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She interrupted him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is true,&rdquo; she declared. &ldquo;He may be here at any instant. The time is
+      already up. Oh, monsieur, indeed, indeed it would not do for him to find
+      you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin moved towards the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are perhaps right,&rdquo; he said regretfully, &ldquo;although I should much like
+      to hear about this little matter of life insurance while I am here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Indeed, monsieur,&rdquo; Annette declared, &ldquo;I know nothing. There is nothing
+      which I can tell monsieur.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin suddenly leaned forward. His gaze was compelling. His tone was
+      low but terrible.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Annette,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;obey me. Send Emil here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The woman trembled, but she did not move. Mr. Sabin lifted his forefinger
+      and pointed slowly to the door. The woman&rsquo;s lips parted, but she seemed to
+      have lost the power of speech.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Send Emil here!&rdquo; Mr. Sabin repeated slowly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Annette turned and left the room, groping her way to the door as though
+      her eyesight had become uncertain. Mr. Sabin lit a cigarette and looked
+      for a moment carefully into the small liqueur glass out of which he had
+      drunk.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That was unwise,&rdquo; he said softly to himself. &ldquo;Just such a blunder might
+      have cost me everything.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He held it up to the light and satisfied himself that no dregs remained.
+      Then he took from his pocket a tiny little revolver, and placing it on the
+      table before him, covered it with his handkerchief. Almost immediately a
+      door at the farther end of the room opened and closed. A man in dark
+      clothes, small, unnaturally pale, with deep-set eyes and nervous,
+      twitching mouth, stood before him. Mr. Sabin smiled a welcome at him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good-morning, Emil Sachs,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I am glad that you have shown
+      discretion. Stand there in the light, please, and fold your arms. Thanks.
+      Do not think that I am afraid of you, but I like to talk comfortably.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am at monsieur&rsquo;s service,&rdquo; the man said in a low tone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Exactly. Now, Emil, before starting to visit you I left a little note
+      behind addressed to the chief of the police here&mdash;no, you need not
+      start&mdash;to be sent to him only if my return were unduly delayed. You
+      can guess what that note contained. It is not necessary for us to revert
+      to&mdash;unpleasant subjects.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man moistened his dry lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is not necessary,&rdquo; he repeated. &ldquo;Monsieur is as safe here&mdash;from
+      me&mdash;as at his own hotel.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Excellent!&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said. &ldquo;Now listen, Emil. It has pleased me chiefly,
+      as you know, for the sake of your wife, the good Annette, to be very
+      merciful to you as regards the past. But I do not propose to allow you to
+      run a poison bureau for the advantage of the Prince of Saxe Leinitzer and
+      his friends&mdash;more especially, perhaps, as I am at present upon his
+      list of superfluous persons.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man trembled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;the Prince knows as much as you know, and he has not
+      the mercy that one shows to a dog.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will find,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;that if you do not obey me, I myself can
+      develop a similar disposition. Now answer me this! You have within the
+      last few days supplied several people with that marvelous powder for the
+      preparation of which you are so justly famed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Several&mdash;no, monsieur! Two only.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Their names?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man trembled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If they should know!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They will not, Emil. I will see to that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The first I supplied to the order of the Prince.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good! And the second?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To a lady whose name I do not know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin raised his eyebrows.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is not that,&rdquo; he remarked, &ldquo;a little irregular?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The lady wrote her request before me in the yellow crayon. It was
+      sufficient.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you do not know her name, Emil?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, monsieur. She was dark and tall, and closely veiled. She was here but
+      a few minutes since.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dark and tall!&rdquo; Mr. Sabin repeated to himself thoughtfully. &ldquo;Emil, you
+      are telling me the truth?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do not dare to tell you anything else, monsieur,&rdquo; the man answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin did not continue his interrogations for a few moments. Suddenly
+      he looked up.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Has that lady left the place yet, Emil?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, monsieur!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have you a back exit?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;None that the lady would know of,&rdquo; Emil answered. &ldquo;She must pass along
+      the passage which borders this apartment, and enter the bar by a door from
+      behind. If monsieur desires it, it is impossible for her to leave
+      unobserved.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is excellent, Emil,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said. &ldquo;Now there is one more question&mdash;quite
+      a harmless one. Annette spoke of my life being in some way insured.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is true, monsieur,&rdquo; Emil admitted. &ldquo;A lady who also possessed the
+      yellow crayon came here the day that&mdash;that monsieur incurred the
+      displeasure of&mdash;of his friends. She tried to bribe me to blow up my
+      laboratory and leave the country, or that I should substitute a harmless
+      powder for any required by the Prince. I was obliged to refuse.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And then?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then she promised me a large sum if you were alive in six months, and
+      made me at once a payment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dear me,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;this is quite extraordinary.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I can tell monsieur the lady&rsquo;s name,&rdquo; Emil continued, &ldquo;for she raised her
+      veil, and everywhere the illustrated papers have been full of her picture.
+      It was the lady who was besieged in a little town of South Africa, and who
+      carried despatches for the general, disguised as a man.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lady Carey!&rdquo; Mr. Sabin remarked quietly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That was the lady&rsquo;s name,&rdquo; Emil agreed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin was thoughtful for a few moments. Then he looked up.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Emil Sachs,&rdquo; he said sternly, &ldquo;you have given out at least one portion of
+      your abominable concoction which is meant to end my days. Whether I shall
+      escape it or not remains to be seen. I am forced at the best to discharge
+      my servant, and to live the life of a hunted man. Now you have done enough
+      mischief in the world. To-morrow morning a messenger will place in your
+      hands two hundred pounds. A larger sum will await you at Baring&rsquo;s Bank in
+      New York. You will go there and buy a small restaurant in the business
+      quarter. This is your last chance, Emil. I give it to you for the sake of
+      Annette.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I accept it, monsieur, with gratitude.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For the present&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin stopped short. His quick ears had caught the swish of woman&rsquo;s
+      gown passing along the passage outside. Emil too had heard it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is the dark lady,&rdquo; he whispered, &ldquo;who purchased from me the other
+      powder. See, I open gently this door. Monsieur must both see and hear.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The door at the end of the passage was opened. A woman stepped out into
+      the little bar and made her way towards the door. Here she was met by a
+      man entering. Mr. Sabin held up his forefinger to stop the terrified
+      exclamation which trembled on Emil&rsquo;s lips. The woman was Lucille, the man
+      the Prince. It was Lucille who was speaking.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have followed me, Prince. It is intolerable.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dear Lucille, it is for your own sake. These are not fit parts for you to
+      visit alone.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is my own business,&rdquo; she answered coldly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince appeared to be in a complaisant mood.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;the affair is not worth a quarrel. I ask you no
+      questions. Only since we are here I propose that we test the cooking of
+      the good Annette. We will lunch together.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What, here?&rdquo; she answered. &ldquo;Absurd.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By no means,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;As you doubtless know, the exterior of the
+      place is entirely misleading. These people are old servants of mine. I can
+      answer for the luncheon.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You can also eat it,&rdquo; came the prompt reply. &ldquo;I am returning to the
+      carriage.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin emerged through the swing door. &ldquo;Your discretion, my dear
+      Lucille,&rdquo; he said, smiling, &ldquo;is excellent. The place is indeed better than
+      it seems, and Annette&rsquo;s cookery may be all that the Prince claims. Yet I
+      think I know better places for a luncheon party, and the ventilation is
+      not of the best. May I suggest that you come with me instead to the
+      Milan?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Victor! You here?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin smiled as he admitted the obvious fact. The Prince&rsquo;s face was as
+      black as night.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Believe me,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, turning to the Prince, &ldquo;I sympathise
+      entirely with your feelings at the present moment. I myself have suffered
+      in precisely the same manner. The fact is, intrigue in this country is
+      almost an impossibility. At Paris, Vienna, Pesth, how different! You raise
+      your little finger, and the deed is done. Superfluous people&mdash;like
+      myself&mdash;are removed like the hairs from your chin. But here intrigue
+      seems indeed to exist only within the pages of a shilling novel, or in a
+      comic opera. The gentleman with a helmet there, who regards us so
+      benignly, will presently earn a shilling by calling me a hansom. Yet in
+      effect he does me a far greater service. He stands for a multitude of cold
+      Anglo-Saxon laws, adamant, incorruptible, inflexible&mdash;as certain as
+      the laws of Nature herself. I am quite aware that by this time I ought to
+      be lying in a dark cellar with a gag in my mouth, or perhaps in the river
+      with a dagger in my chest. But here in England, no!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince smiled&mdash;to all appearance a very genial smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are right, my dear friend,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;yet what you say possesses,
+      shall we call it, a somewhat antediluvian flavour. Intrigue is no longer a
+      clumsy game of knife and string and bowl. It becomes to-day a game of
+      finesse. I can assure you that I have no desire to give a stage whistle
+      and have you throttled at my feet. On the contrary, I beg you to use my
+      carriage, which you will find in the street. You will lunch at the Milan
+      with Lucille, and I shall retire discomfited to eat alone at my club. But
+      the game is a long one, my dear friend. The new methods take time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This conversation,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said to Lucille, &ldquo;is interesting, but it is
+      a little ungallant. I think that we will resume it at some future
+      occasion. Shall we accept the Prince&rsquo;s offer, or shall we be truly
+      democratic and take a hansom.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille passed her arm through his and laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are robbing the Prince of me,&rdquo; she declared. &ldquo;Let us leave him his
+      carriage.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She nodded her farewells to Saxe Leinitzer, who took leave of them with a
+      low bow. As they waited at the corner for a hansom Mr. Sabin glanced back.
+      The Prince had disappeared through the swing doors.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I want you to promise me one thing,&rdquo; Lucille said earnestly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is promised,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will not ask me the reason of my visit to this place?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have no curiosity,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered. &ldquo;Come!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0028" id="link2HCH0028">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXVIII
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin, contrary to his usual custom, engaged a private room at the
+      Milan. Lucille was in the highest spirits.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If only this were a game instead of reality!&rdquo; she said, flashing a
+      brilliant smile at him across the table, &ldquo;I should find it most
+      fascinating. You seem to come to me always when I want you most. And do
+      you know, it is perfectly charming to be carried off by you in this
+      manner.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin smiled at her, and there was a look in his eyes which shone
+      there for no other woman.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is in effect,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;keeping me young. Events seem to have
+      enclosed us in a curious little cobweb. All the time we are struggling
+      between the rankest primitivism and the most delicate intrigue. To-day is
+      the triumph of primitivism.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Meaning that you, the medieval knight, have carried me off, the
+      distressed maiden, on your shoulder.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Having confounded my enemy,&rdquo; he continued, smiling, &ldquo;by an embarrassing
+      situation, a little argument, and the distant view of a policeman&rsquo;s
+      helmet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This,&rdquo; she remarked, with a little satisfied sigh as she selected an
+      ortolan, &ldquo;is a very satisfactory place to be carried off to. And you,&rdquo; she
+      added, leaning across the table and touching his fingers for a moment
+      tenderly, &ldquo;are a very delightful knight-errant.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He raised the fingers to his lips&mdash;the waiter had left the room. She
+      blushed, but yielded her hand readily enough.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Victor,&rdquo; she murmured, &ldquo;you would spoil the most faithless woman on earth
+      for all her lovers. You make me very impatient.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Impatience, then,&rdquo; he declared, &ldquo;must be the most infectious of fevers.
+      For I too am a terrible sufferer.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If only the Prince,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;would be reasonable.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am afraid,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered, &ldquo;that from him we have not much to hope
+      for.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yet,&rdquo; she continued, &ldquo;I have fulfilled all the conditions. Reginald Brott
+      remains the enemy of our cause and Order. Yet some say that his influence
+      upon the people is lessened. In any case, my work is over. He began to
+      mistrust me long ago. To-day I believe that mistrust is the only feeling
+      he has in connection with me. I shall demand my release.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am afraid,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;that Saxe Leinitzer has other reasons for
+      keeping you at Dorset House.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She shrugged her shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He has been very persistent even before I left Vienna. But he must know
+      that it is hopeless. I have never encouraged him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am sure of it,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said. &ldquo;It is the incorrigible vanity of the
+      man which will not be denied. He has been taught to believe himself
+      irresistible. I have never doubted you for a single moment, Lucille. I
+      could not. But you have been the slave of these people long enough. As you
+      say, your task is over. Its failure was always certain. Brott believes in
+      his destiny, and it will be no slight thing which will keep him from
+      following it. They must give you back to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We will go back to America,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I have never been so happy as at
+      Lenox.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nor I,&rdquo; Mr. Sahin said softly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Besides,&rdquo; she continued, &ldquo;the times have changed since I joined the
+      Society. In Hungary you know how things were. The Socialists were carrying
+      all before them, a united solid body. The aristocracy were forced to enter
+      into some sort of combination against them. We saved Austria, I am not
+      sure that we did not save Russia. But England is different. The
+      aristocracy here are a strong resident class. They have their House of
+      Lords, they own the land, and will own it for many years to come, their
+      position is unassailable. It is the worst country in Europe for us to work
+      in. The very climate and the dispositions of the people are inimical to
+      intrigue. It is Muriel Carey who brought the Society here. It was a
+      mistake. The country is in no need of it. There is no scope for it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If only one could get beyond Saxe Leinitzer,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She shook her head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Behind him,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;there is only the one to whom all reference is
+      forbidden. And there is no man in the world who would be less likely to
+      listen to an appeal from you&mdash;or from me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;After all,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;though Saxe Leinitzer is our enemy, I am not
+      sure that he can do us any harm. If he declines to release you&mdash;well,
+      when the twelve months are up you are free whether he wishes it or not. He
+      has put me outside the pale. But this is not, or never was, a vindictive
+      Society. They do not deal in assassinations. In this country at least
+      anything of the sort is rarely attempted. If I were a young man with my
+      life to live in the capitals of Europe I should be more or less a social
+      outcast, I suppose. But I am proof against that sort of thing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille looked a little doubtful.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Prince,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;is an intriguer of the old school. I know that in
+      Vienna he has more than once made use of more violent means than he would
+      dare to do here. And there is an underneath machinery very seldom used, I
+      believe, and of which none of us who are ordinary members know anything at
+      all, which gives him terrible powers.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin nodded grimly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was worked against me in America,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;but I got the best of it.
+      Here in England I do not believe that he would dare to use it. If so, I
+      think that before now it would have been aimed at Brott. I have just read
+      his Glasgow speech. If he becomes Premier it will lead to something like a
+      revolution.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She sighed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Brott is a clever man, and a strong man,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I am sorry for him,
+      but I do not believe that he will never become Prime Minister of England.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin sipped his wine thoughtfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I believe,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;that intrigue is the resource of those who have
+      lived their lives so quickly that they have found weariness. For these
+      things to-day interest me very little. I am only anxious to have you back
+      again, Lucille, to find ourselves on our way to our old home.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She laughed softly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I used to think,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;that after all I could only keep you a
+      little time&mdash;that presently the voices from the outside world would
+      come whispering in your ears, and you would steal back again to where the
+      wheels of life were turning.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A man,&rdquo; he answered, &ldquo;is not easily whispered out of Paradise.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She laughed at him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, it is so easy,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;to know that your youth was spent at a
+      court.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is only one court,&rdquo; he answered, &ldquo;where men learn to speak the
+      truth.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She leaned back in her chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, you are incorrigible,&rdquo; she said softly. &ldquo;The one role in life in
+      which I fancied you ill at ease you seem to fill to perfection.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And that?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are an adorable husband!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I should like,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;a better opportunity to prove it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let us hope,&rdquo; she murmured, &ldquo;that our separation is nearly over. I shall
+      appeal to the Prince to-night. My remaining at Dorset House is no longer
+      necessary.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shall come,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;and demand you in person.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She shook her head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No! They would not let you in, and it would make it more difficult. Be
+      patient a little longer.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He came and sat by her side. She leaned over to meet his embrace.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You make patience,&rdquo; he murmured, &ldquo;a torture!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin walked home to his rooms late in the afternoon, well content on
+      the whole with his day. He was in no manner prepared for the shock which
+      greeted him on entering his sitting-room. Duson was leaning back in his
+      most comfortable easy-chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Duson!&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said sharply. &ldquo;What does this mean?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was no answer. Mr. Sabin moved quickly forward, and then stopped
+      short. He had seen dead men, and he knew the signs. Duson was stone dead.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin&rsquo;s nerve answered to this demand upon it. He checked his first
+      impulse to ring the bell, and looked carefully on the table for some note
+      or message from the dead man. He found it almost at once&mdash;a large
+      envelope in Duson&rsquo;s handwriting. Mr. Sabin hastily broke the seal and
+      read:
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+  &ldquo;Monsieur,&mdash;I kill myself because it is easiest and best.  The
+  poison was given me for you, but I have not the courage to become
+  a murderer, or afterwards to conceal my guilt.  Monsieur has been
+  a good master to me, and also Madame la Comtesse was always
+  indulgent and kind.  The mistake of my life has been the joining
+  the lower order of the Society.  The money which I have received
+  has been but a poor return for the anxiety and trouble which have
+  come upon me since Madame la Comtesse left America.  Now that I
+  seek shelter in the grave I am free to warn Monsieur that the
+  Prince of S. L. is his determined and merciless enemy, and that
+  he has already made an unlawful use of his position in the Society
+  for the sake of private vengeance.  If monsieur would make a
+  powerful friend he should seek the Lady Muriel Carey.
+
+  &ldquo;Monsieur will be so good as to destroy this when read.  My will
+  is in my trunk.
+                                 &ldquo;Your Grace&rsquo;s faithful servant,
+                                         &ldquo;Jules Duson.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin read this letter carefully through to the end. Then he put it
+      into his pocket-book and quickly rang the bell.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You had better send for a doctor at once,&rdquo; he said to the waiter who
+      appeared. &ldquo;My servant appears to have suffered from some sudden illness. I
+      am afraid that he is quite dead.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0029" id="link2HCH0029">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXIX
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You spoke, my dear Lucille,&rdquo; the Duchess of Dorset said, &ldquo;of your
+      departure. Is not that a little premature?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille shrugged her beautiful shoulders, and leaned back in her corner of
+      the couch with half-closed eyes. The Duchess, who was very Anglo-Saxon,
+      was an easy person to read, and Lucille was anxious to know her fate.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why premature?&rdquo; she asked. &ldquo;I was sent for to use my influence with
+      Reginald Brott. Well, I did my best, and I believe that for days it was
+      just a chance whether I did not succeed. However, as it happened, I
+      failed. One of his friends came and pulled him away just as he was
+      wavering. He has declared himself now once and for all. After his speech
+      at Glasgow he cannot draw back. I was brought all the way from America,
+      and I want to go back to my husband.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Duchess pursed her lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When one has the honour, my dear,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;of belonging to so
+      wonderful an organisation as this we must not consider too closely the
+      selfish claims of family. I am sure that years ago I should have laughed
+      at any one who had told me that I, Georgina Croxton, should ever belong to
+      such a thing as a secret society, even though it had some connection with
+      so harmless and excellent an organisation as the Primrose League.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It does seem remarkable,&rdquo; Lucille murmured.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But look what terrible times have come upon us,&rdquo; the Duchess continued,
+      without heeding the interruption. &ldquo;When I was a girl a Radical was a
+      person absolutely without consideration. Now all our great cities are
+      hot-beds of Socialism and&mdash;and anarchism. The whole country seems
+      banded together against the aristocracy and the landowners. Combination
+      amongst us became absolutely necessary in some shape or form. When the
+      Prince came and began to drop hints about the way the spread of Socialism
+      had been checked in Hungary and Austria, and even Germany, I was
+      interested from the first. And when he went further, and spoke of the
+      Society, it was I who persuaded Dorset to join. Dear man, he is very
+      earnest, but very slow, and very averse to anything at all secretive. I am
+      sure the reflection that he is a member of a secret society, even although
+      it is simply a linking together of the aristocracy of Europe in their own
+      defence, has kept him awake for many a night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille was a little bored.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Society,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;is an admirable one enough, but just now I am
+      beginning to feel it a little exacting. I think that the Prince expects a
+      good deal of one. I shall certainly ask for my release to-night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Duchess looked doubtful.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Release!&rdquo; she repeated. &ldquo;Come, is that not rather an exaggerated
+      expression? I trust that your stay at Dorset House has not in any way
+      suggested an imprisonment.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;On the contrary,&rdquo; Lucille answered; &ldquo;you and the Duke have been most
+      kind. But you must remember that I have home of my own&mdash;and a husband
+      of my own.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have no doubt,&rdquo; the Duchess said, &ldquo;that you will be able to return to
+      them some day. But you must not be impatient. I do not think that the
+      Prince has given up all hopes of Reginald Brott yet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille was silent. So her emancipation was to be postponed. After all, it
+      was what she had feared. She sat watching idly the Duchess&rsquo;s knitting
+      needles. Lady Carey came sweeping in, wonderful in a black velvet gown and
+      a display of jewels almost barbaric.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;On my way to the opera,&rdquo; she announced. &ldquo;The Maddersons sent me their
+      box. Will any of you good people come? What do you say, Lucille?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille shook her head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My toilette is deficient,&rdquo; she said; &ldquo;and besides, I am staying at home
+      to see the Prince. We expect him this evening.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You&rsquo;ll probably be disappointed then,&rdquo; Lady Carey remarked, &ldquo;for he&rsquo;s
+      going to join us at the opera. Run and change your gown. I&rsquo;ll wait.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you sure that the Prince will be there?&rdquo; Lucille asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certain.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then I will come,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;if the Duchess will excuse me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Duchess and Lady Carey were left alone for a few minutes. The former
+      put down her knitting.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why do we keep that woman here,&rdquo; she asked, &ldquo;now that Brott has broken
+      away from her altogether?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey laughed meaningly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Better ask the Prince,&rdquo; she remarked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Duchess frowned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear Muriel,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;I think that you are wrong to make such
+      insinuations. I am sure that the Prince is too much devoted to our cause
+      to allow any personal considerations to intervene.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey yawned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Rats!&rdquo; she exclaimed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Duchess took up her knitting, and went on with it without remark. Lady
+      Carey burst out laughing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t look so shocked,&rdquo; she exclaimed. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s funny. I can&rsquo;t help being a
+      bit slangy. You do take everything so seriously. Of course you can see
+      that the Prince is waiting to make a fool of himself over Lucille. He has
+      been trying more or less all his life.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He may admire her,&rdquo; the Duchess said. &ldquo;I am sure that he would not allow
+      that to influence him in his present position. By the bye, she is anxious
+      to leave us now that the Brott affair is over. Do you think that the
+      Prince will agree?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey&rsquo;s face hardened.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am sure that he will not,&rdquo; she said coolly. &ldquo;There are reasons why she
+      may not at present be allowed to rejoin her husband.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Duchess used her needles briskly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For my part,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;I can see no object in keeping her here any
+      longer. Mr. Brott has shown himself quite capable of keeping her at arm&rsquo;s
+      length. I cannot see what further use she is.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey heard the flutter of skirts outside and rose.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There are wheels within wheels,&rdquo; she remarked. &ldquo;My dear Lucille, what a
+      charming toilette. We shall have the lady journalists besieging us in our
+      box. Paquin, of course. Good-night, Duchess. Glad to see you&rsquo;re getting on
+      with the socks, or stockings, do you call them?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Insolent aristocratic, now and then attractive in some strange suggestive
+      way, Lady Carey sat in front of the box and exchanged greetings with her
+      friends. Presently the Prince came in and took the chair between the two
+      women. Lady Carey greeted him with a nod.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here&rsquo;s Lucille dying to return to her lawful husband,&rdquo; she remarked. &ldquo;Odd
+      thing, isn&rsquo;t it? Most of the married women I ever knew are dying to get
+      away from theirs. You can make her happy or miserable in a few moments.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince leaned over between them, but he looked only at Lucille.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wish that I could,&rdquo; he murmured. &ldquo;I wish that that were within my
+      power.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is,&rdquo; she answered coolly. &ldquo;Muriel is quite right. I am most anxious to
+      return to my husband.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince said nothing. Lady Carey, glancing towards him at that moment,
+      was surprised at certain signs of disquietude in his face which startled
+      her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is the matter with you?&rdquo; she asked almost roughly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Matter with me? Nothing,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;Why this unaccustomed
+      solicitude?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey looked into his face fiercely. He was pale, and there was a
+      strained look about his eyes. He seemed, too, to be listening. From
+      outside in the street came faintly to their ears the cry of a newsboy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Get me an evening paper,&rdquo; she whispered in his ear.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He got up and left the box. Lucille was watching the people below and had
+      not appreciated the significance of what had been passing between the two.
+      Lady Carey leaned back in the box with half-closed eyes. Her fingers were
+      clenched nervously together, her bosom was rising and falling quickly. If
+      he had dared to defy her! What was it the newsboys were calling? What a
+      jargon! Why did not Saxe Leinitzer return? Perhaps he was afraid! Her
+      heart stood still for a moment, and a little half-stifled cry broke from
+      her lips. Lucille looked around quickly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is the matter, Muriel?&rdquo; she asked. &ldquo;Are you faint?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Faint, no,&rdquo; Lady Carey answered roughly. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m quite well. Don&rsquo;t take any
+      notice of me. Do you hear? Don&rsquo;t look at me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille obeyed. Lady Carey sat quite still with her hand pressed to her
+      side. It was a stifling pain. She was sure that she had heard at last.
+      &ldquo;Sudden death of a visitor at the Carlton Hotel.&rdquo; The place was beginning
+      to go round.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Saxe Leinitzer returned. His face to her seemed positively ghastly. He
+      carried an evening paper in his hand. She snatched it away from him. It
+      was there before her in bold, black letters:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sudden death in the Carlton Hotel.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her eyes, dim a moment ago, suddenly blazed fire upon him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It shall be a life for a life,&rdquo; she whispered. &ldquo;If you have killed him
+      you shall die.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille looked at them bewildered. And just then came a sharp tap at the
+      box door. No one answered it, but the door was softly opened. Mr. Sabin
+      stood upon the threshold.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pray, don&rsquo;t let me disturb you,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I was unable to refrain from
+      paying you a brief visit. Why, Prince, Lady Carey! I can assure you that I
+      am no ghost.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He glanced from one to the other with a delicate smile of mockery parting
+      his thin lips. For upon the Prince&rsquo;s forehead the perspiration stood out
+      like beads, and he shrank away from Mr. Sabin as from some unholy thing.
+      Lady Carey had fallen back across her chair. Her hand was still pressed to
+      her side, and her face was very pale. A nervous little laugh broke from
+      her lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0030" id="link2HCH0030">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXX
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin found a fourth chair, and calmly seated himself by Lucille&rsquo;s
+      side. But his eyes were fixed upon Lady Carey. She was slowly recovering
+      herself, but Mr. Sabin, who had never properly understood her attitude
+      towards him, was puzzled at the air of intense relief which almost shone
+      in her face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You seem&mdash;all of you,&rdquo; he remarked suavely, &ldquo;to have found the music
+      a little exciting. Wagner certainly knew how to find his way to the
+      emotions. Or perhaps I interrupted an interesting discussion?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille smiled gently upon him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;These two,&rdquo; she said, looking from the Prince to Lady Carey, &ldquo;seem to
+      have been afflicted with a sudden nervous excitement, and yet I do not
+      think that they are, either of them, very susceptible to music.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey leaned forward, and looked at him from behind the large fan of
+      white feathers which she was lazily fluttering before her face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your entrance,&rdquo; she murmured, &ldquo;was most opportune, besides being very
+      welcome. The Prince and I were literally&mdash;on the point of flying at
+      one another&rsquo;s throats.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin glanced at his neighbour and smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are certainly a little out of sorts, Saxe Leinitzer,&rdquo; he remarked.
+      &ldquo;You look pale, and your hands are not quite steady. Nerves, I suppose.
+      You should see Dr. Carson in Brook Street.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince shrugged his shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My health,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;was never better. It is true that your coming was
+      somewhat of a surprise,&rdquo; he added, looking steadily at Mr. Sabin. &ldquo;I
+      understood that you had gone for a short journey, and I was not expecting
+      to see you back again so soon.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Duson,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;has taken that short journey instead. It was
+      rather a liberty, but he left a letter for me fully explaining his
+      motives. I cannot blame him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince stroked his moustache.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; he remarked. &ldquo;That is a pity. You may, however, find it politic,
+      even necessary, to join him very shortly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin smiled grimly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shall go when I am ready,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;not before!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille looked from one to the other with protesting eyebrows.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;it is very impolite of you to talk in riddles before my
+      face. I have been flattering myself, Victor, that you were here to see me.
+      Do not wound my vanity.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He whispered something in her ear, and she laughed softly back at him. The
+      Prince, with the evening paper in his hand, escaped from the box, and
+      found a retired spot where he could read the little paragraph at his
+      leisure. Lady Carey pretended to be absorbed by the music.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Has anything happened, Victor?&rdquo; Lucille whispered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He hesitated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, in a sense, yes,&rdquo; he admitted. &ldquo;I appear to have become unpopular
+      with our friend, the Prince. Duson, who has always been a spy upon my
+      movements, was entrusted with a little sleeping draught for me, which he
+      preferred to take himself. That is all.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Duson is&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is dead!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille went very pale.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is horrible!&rdquo; she murmured
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Prince is a little annoyed, naturally,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said. &ldquo;It is vexing
+      to have your plans upset in such a manner.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She shuddered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is hateful! Victor, I fear that he does not mean to let me leave
+      Dorset House just yet. I am almost inclined to become, like you, an
+      outcast. Who knows&mdash;we might go free. Bloodshed is always avoided as
+      much as possible, and I do not see how else they could strike at me.
+      Social ostracism is their chief weapon. But in America that could not hurt
+      us.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not yet,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I am sure that Saxe Leinitzer is not playing the
+      game. But he is too well served here to make defiance wise.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You run the risk yourself,&rdquo; she protested.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is a different matter. By the bye, we are overheard.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey had forgotten to listen any more to the music. She was watching
+      them both, a steely light in her eyes, her fingers nervously entwined. The
+      Prince was still absent.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pray do not consider me,&rdquo; she begged. &ldquo;So far as I am concerned, your
+      conversation is of no possible interest. But I think you had better
+      remember that the Prince is in the corridor just outside.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We are much obliged to you,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said. &ldquo;The Prince may hear every
+      word I have to say about him. But all the same, I thank you for your
+      warning.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I fear that we are very unsociable, Muriel,&rdquo; Lucille said, &ldquo;and, after
+      all, I should never have been here but for you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey turned her left shoulder upon them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I beg,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;that you will leave me alone with the music. I prefer
+      it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince suddenly stood upon the threshold. His hand rested lightly upon
+      the arm of another man.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come in, Brott,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;The women will be charmed to see you. And I
+      don&rsquo;t suppose they&rsquo;ve read your speeches. Countess, here is the man who
+      counts all equal under the sun, who decries class, and recognises no
+      social distinctions. Brott was born to lead a revolution. He is our
+      natural enemy. Let us all try to convert him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Brott was pale, and deep new lines were furrowed on his face. Nevertheless
+      he smiled faintly as he bowed over Lucille&rsquo;s fingers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My introduction,&rdquo; he remarked, &ldquo;is scarcely reassuring. Yet here at
+      least, if anywhere in the world, we should all meet upon equal ground.
+      Music is a universal leveler.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And we haven&rsquo;t a chance,&rdquo; Lady Carey remarked with uplifted eyebrows, &ldquo;of
+      listening to a bar of it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille welcomed the newcomer coldly. Nevertheless, he manoeuvred himself
+      into the place by her side. She took up her fan and commenced swinging it
+      thoughtfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are surprised to see me here?&rdquo; he murmured.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes!&rdquo; she admitted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He looked wearily away from the stage up into her face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I too,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I am surprised to find myself here!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I pictured you,&rdquo; she remarked, &ldquo;as immersed in affairs. Did I not hear
+      something of a Radical ministry with you for Premier?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It has been spoken of,&rdquo; he admitted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then I really cannot see,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;what you are doing here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why not?&rdquo; he asked doggedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She shrugged her shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In the first place,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;you ought to be rushing about amongst
+      your supporters, keeping them up to the mark, and all that sort of thing.
+      And in the second&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are we not the very people against whom you have declared war?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have declared war against no people,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;It is systems and
+      classes, abuses, injustice against which I have been forced to speak. I
+      would not deprive your Order of a single privilege to which they are
+      justly entitled. But you must remember that I am a people&rsquo;s man. Their
+      cause is mine. They look to me as their mouthpiece.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille shrugged her shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You cannot evade the point,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;If you are the, what do you call
+      it, the mouthpiece of the people, I do not see how you can be anything
+      else than the enemy of the aristocracy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The aristocracy? Who are they?&rdquo; he asked. &ldquo;I am the enemy of all those
+      who, because they possess an ancient name and inherited wealth, consider
+      themselves the God-appointed bullies of the poor, dealing them out meagre
+      charities, lordly patronage, an unspoken but bitter contempt. But the
+      aristocracy of the earth are not of such as these. Your class are
+      furnishing the world with advanced thinkers every year, every month!
+      Inherited prejudices can never survive the next few generations. The
+      fusion of classes must come.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She shook her head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are sanguine, my friend,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Many generations have come and
+      gone since the wonderful pages of history were opened to us. And during
+      all these years how much nearer have the serf and the aristocrat come
+      together? Nay, have they not rather drifted apart?... But listen! This is
+      the great chorus. We must not miss it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So the Prince has brought back the wanderer,&rdquo; Lady Carey whispered to Mr.
+      Sabin behind her fan. &ldquo;Hasn&rsquo;t he rather the air of a sheep who has strayed
+      from the fold?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin raised the horn eyeglass, which he so seldom used, and
+      contemplated Brott steadily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He reminds me more than ever,&rdquo; he remarked, &ldquo;of Rienzi. He is like a man
+      torn asunder by great causes. They say that his speech at Glasgow was the
+      triumph of a born orator.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey shrugged her shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was practically the preaching a revolution to the people,&rdquo; she said.
+      &ldquo;A few more such, and we might have the red flag waving. He left Glasgow
+      in a ferment. If he really comes into power, what are we to expect?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To the onlookers,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin remarked, &ldquo;a revolution in this country
+      would possess many interesting features. The common people lack the
+      ferocity of our own rabble, but they are even more determined. I may yet
+      live to see an English Duke earning an honest living in the States.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It depends very much upon Brott,&rdquo; Lady Carey said. &ldquo;For his own sake it
+      is a pity that he is in love with Lucille.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin agreed with her blandly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is,&rdquo; he affirmed, &ldquo;a most regrettable incident.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She leaned a little towards him. The box was not a large one, and their
+      chairs already touched.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you a jealous husband?&rdquo; she asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Horribly,&rdquo; he answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your devotion to Lucille, or rather the singleness of your devotion to
+      Lucille,&rdquo; she remarked, &ldquo;is positively the most gauche thing about you. It
+      is&mdash;absolutely callow!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He laughed gently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did I not always tell you,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;that when I did marry I should make
+      an excellent husband?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are at least,&rdquo; she answered sharply, &ldquo;a very complaisant one.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince leaned forward from the shadows of the box.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I invite you all,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;to supper with me. It is something of an
+      occasion, this! For I do not think that we shall all meet again just as we
+      are now for a very long time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your invitation,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin remarked, &ldquo;is most agreeable. But your
+      suggestion is, to say the least of it, nebulous. I do not see what is to
+      prevent your all having supper with me to-morrow evening.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey laughed as she rose, and stretched out her hand for her cloak.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To-morrow evening,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;is a long way off. Let us make sure of
+      to-night&mdash;before the Prince changes his mind.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin bowed low.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To-night by all means,&rdquo; he declared. &ldquo;But my invitation remains&mdash;a
+      challenge!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0031" id="link2HCH0031">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXXI
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The Prince, being host, arranged the places at his supper-table. Mr. Sabin
+      found himself, therefore, between Lady Carey and a young German attache,
+      whom they had met in the ante-room of the restaurant. Lucille had the
+      Prince and Mr. Brott on either side of her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey monopolised at first the greater part of the conversation. Mr.
+      Sabin was unusually silent. The German attache, whose name was Baron von
+      Opperman, did not speak until the champagne was served, when he threw a
+      bombshell into the midst of the little party.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I hear,&rdquo; he said, with a broad and seraphic smile, &ldquo;that in this hotel
+      there has to-day a murder been committed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Baron von Opperman was suddenly the cynosure of several pairs of eyes. He
+      was delighted with the success of his attempt towards the general
+      entertainment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The evening papers,&rdquo; he continued, &ldquo;they have in them news of a sudden
+      death. But in the hotel here now they are speaking of something&mdash;what
+      you call more&mdash;mysterious. There has been ordered an examination
+      post-mortem!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is a case of poisoning then, I presume?&rdquo; the Prince asked, leaning
+      forward.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is so supposed,&rdquo; the attache answered. &ldquo;It seems that the doctors
+      could find no trace of disease, nothing to have caused death. They were
+      not able to decide anything. The man, they said, was in perfect health&mdash;but
+      dead.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It must have been, then,&rdquo; the Prince remarked, &ldquo;a very wonderful poison.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Without doubt,&rdquo; Baron Opperman answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince sighed gently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There are many such,&rdquo; he murmured. &ldquo;Indeed the science of toxicology was
+      never so ill-understood as now. I am assured that there are many poisons
+      known only to a few chemists in the world, a single grain of which is
+      sufficient to destroy the strongest man and leave not the slightest trace
+      behind. If the poisoner be sufficiently accomplished he can pursue his&mdash;calling
+      without the faintest risk of detection.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin sipped his wine thoughtfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Prince is, I believe, right,&rdquo; he remarked. &ldquo;It is for that reason,
+      doubtless, that I have heard of men whose lives have been threatened, who
+      have deposited in safe places a sealed statement of the danger in which
+      they find themselves, with an account of its source, so that if they
+      should come to an end in any way mysterious there may be evidence against
+      their murderers.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A very reasonable and judicious precaution,&rdquo; the Prince remarked with
+      glittering eyes. &ldquo;Only if the poison was indeed of such a nature that it
+      was not possible to trace it nothing worse than suspicion could ever be
+      the lot of any one.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin helped himself carefully to salad, and resumed the discussion
+      with his next course.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps not,&rdquo; he admitted. &ldquo;But you must remember that suspicion is of
+      itself a grievous embarrassment. No man likes to feel that he is being
+      suspected of murder. By the bye, is it known whom the unfortunate person
+      was?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The servant of a French nobleman who is staying in the hotel,&rdquo; Mr. Brott
+      remarked. &ldquo;I heard as much as that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin smiled. Lady Carey glanced at him meaningly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have worried the Prince quite sufficiently,&rdquo; she whispered. &ldquo;Change
+      the subject.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin bowed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are very considerate&mdash;to the Prince,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is perhaps for your sake,&rdquo; she answered. &ldquo;And as for the Prince&mdash;well,
+      you know, or you should know, for how much he counts with me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin glanced at her curiously. She was a little flushed as though
+      with some inward excitement. Her eyes were bright and soft. Despite a
+      certain angularity of figure and her hollow cheeks she was certainly one
+      of the most distinguished-looking women in the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are so dense,&rdquo; she whispered in his ear, &ldquo;wilfully dense, perhaps.
+      You will not understand that I wish to be your friend.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He smiled with gentle deprecation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you blame me,&rdquo; he murmured, &ldquo;if I seem incredulous? For I am an old
+      man, and you are spoken of always as the friend of my enemy, the friend of
+      the Prince.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wonder,&rdquo; she said thoughtfully, &ldquo;if this is really the secret of your
+      mistrust? Do you indeed fear that I have no other interest in life save to
+      serve Saxe Leinitzer?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As to that,&rdquo; he answered, &ldquo;I cannot say. Yet I know that only a few
+      months ago you were acting under orders from him. It is you who brought
+      Lucille from America. It was through you that the first blow was struck at
+      my happiness.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Cannot I atone?&rdquo; she murmured under her breath. &ldquo;If I can I will. And as
+      for the present, well, I am outside his schemes now. Let us be friends.
+      You would find me a very valuable ally.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let it be so,&rdquo; he answered without emotion. &ldquo;You shall help me, if you
+      will, to regain Lucille. I promise you then that my gratitude shall not
+      disappoint you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She bit her lip.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And are you sure,&rdquo; she whispered, &ldquo;that Lucille is anxious to be won
+      back? She loves intrigue, excitement, the sense of being concerned in
+      important doings. Besides&mdash;you must have heard what they say about
+      her&mdash;and Brott. Look at her now. She wears her grass widowhood
+      lightly enough.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin looked across the table. Lucille had indeed all the appearance
+      of a woman thoroughly at peace with the world and herself. Brott was
+      talking to her in smothered and eager undertones. The Prince was waiting
+      for an opportunity to intervene. Mr. Sabin looked into Brott&rsquo;s white
+      strong face, and was thoughtful.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is a great power&mdash;the power of my sex,&rdquo; Lady Carey continued,
+      with a faint, subtle smile. &ldquo;A word from Lucille, and the history book of
+      the future must be differently written.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She will not speak that word,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said. Lady Carey shrugged her
+      shoulders. The subtlety of her smile faded away. Her whole face expressed
+      a contemptuous and self-assured cynicism.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You know her very well,&rdquo; she murmured. &ldquo;Yet she and I are no strangers.
+      She is one who loves to taste&mdash;no, to drink&mdash;deeply of all the
+      experiences of life. Why should we blame her, you and I? Have we not the
+      same desire?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin lit a cigarette.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Once, perhaps,&rdquo; he remarked. &ldquo;You must not forget that I am no longer a
+      young man.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She leaned towards him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will die young,&rdquo; she murmured. &ldquo;You are not of the breed of men who
+      grow old.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you mean to turn my head?&rdquo; he asked her, with a humorous smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It would be easier,&rdquo; she answered, &ldquo;than to touch your heart.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Then Lucille looked across at them&mdash;and Mr. Sabin suddenly remembered
+      that Reginald Brott knew them both only as strangers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Muriel,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;you are behaving disgracefully.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am doing my best,&rdquo; Lady Carey answered, &ldquo;to keep you in countenance.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The eyes of the two women met for a moment, and though the smiles lingered
+      still upon their faces Lady Carey at any rate was not able to wholly
+      conceal her hatred. Lucille shrugged her shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am doing my best,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;to convert Mr. Brott.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To what?&rdquo; Lady Carey asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To a sane point of view concerning the holiness of the aristocracy,&rdquo;
+       Lucille answered. &ldquo;I am afraid though that I have made very little
+      impression. In his heart I believe Mr. Brott would like to see us all
+      working for our living, school-teachers and dressmakers, and that sort of
+      thing, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Brott protested.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am not even,&rdquo; he declared, &ldquo;moderately advanced in my views as regards
+      matters of your sex. To tell you the truth, I do not like women to work at
+      all outside their homes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear,&rdquo; she said to Lucille, &ldquo;you and I may as well retire in despair.
+      Can&rsquo;t you see the sort of woman Mr. Brott admires? She isn&rsquo;t like us a
+      bit. She is probably a healthy, ruddy-cheeked young person who lives in
+      the country, gets up to breakfast to pour out the coffee for some sort of
+      a male relative, goes round the garden snipping off roses in big gloves
+      and a huge basket, interviews the cook, orders the dinner, makes fancy
+      waistcoats for her husband, and failing a sewing maid, does the mending
+      for the family. You and I, Lucille, are not like that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, you have mentioned nothing which I couldn&rsquo;t do, if it seemed worth
+      while,&rdquo; Lucille objected. &ldquo;It sounds very primitive and delightful. I am
+      sure we are all too luxurious and too lazy. I think we ought to turn over
+      a new leaf.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For you, dear Lucille,&rdquo; Lady Carey said with suave and deadly satire,
+      &ldquo;what improvement is possible? You have all that you could desire. It is
+      much less fortunate persons, such as myself, to whom Utopia must seem such
+      a delightful place.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A frock-coated and altogether immaculate young man approached their table
+      and accosted Mr. Sabin.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I beg your pardon, sir,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;but the manager would be much obliged
+      if you would spare him a moment or two in his private room as soon as
+      possible.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In a few minutes,&rdquo; he answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The little party broke up almost immediately. Coffee was ordered in the
+      palm court, where the band was playing. Mr. Sabin and the Prince fell a
+      little behind the others on the way out of the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You heard my summons?&rdquo; Mr. Sabin asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am going to be cross-examined as regards Duson. I am no longer a member
+      of the Order. What is to prevent my setting them upon the right track?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The fact,&rdquo; the Prince said coolly, &ldquo;that you are hoping one day to
+      recover Lucille.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I doubt,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;whether you are strong enough to keep her from
+      me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince smiled. All his white teeth were showing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;you know better than&mdash;much better than that.
+      Lucille must wait her release. You know that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will buy it,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;with a lie to the manager here, or I
+      will tell the truth and still take her from you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince stood upon the topmost step of the balcony. Below was the palm
+      court, with many little groups of people dotted about.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear friend,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;Duson died absolutely of his own free will.
+      You know that quite well. We should have preferred that the matter had
+      been otherwise arranged. But as it is we are safe, absolutely safe.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Duson&rsquo;s letter!&rdquo; Mr. Sabin remarked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will not show it,&rdquo; the Prince answered. &ldquo;You cannot. You have kept it
+      too long. And, after all, you cannot escape from the main fact. Duson
+      committed suicide.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He was incited to murder. His letter proves it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince shrugged his shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By whom? Ah, how your story would excite ridicule. I seem to hear the
+      laughter now. No, my dear Souspennier, you would bargain for me with
+      Lucille. Look below. Are we likely to part with her just yet?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In a corner, behind a gigantic palm, Lucille and Brott were talking
+      together. Lady Carey had drawn Opperman a little distance away. Brott was
+      talking eagerly, his cheeks flushed, his manner earnest. Mr. Sabin turned
+      upon his heel and walked away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0032" id="link2HCH0032">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXXII
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin, although he had registered at the hotel under his accustomed
+      pseudonym, had taken no pains to conceal his identity, and was well known
+      to the people in authority about the place. He was received with all the
+      respect due to his rank.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your Grace will, I trust, accept my most sincere apologies for disturbing
+      you,&rdquo; Mr. Hertz, the manager, said, rising and bowing at his entrance. &ldquo;We
+      have here, however, an emissary connected with the police come to inquire
+      into the sad incident of this afternoon. He expressed a wish to ask your
+      Grace a question or two with a view to rendering your Grace&rsquo;s attendance
+      at the inquest unnecessary.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am perfectly willing,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;to answer any questions you may choose
+      to put to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A plain, hard-featured little man, in a long black overcoat, and holding a
+      bowler hat in his hand, bowed respectfully to Mr. Sabin.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am much obliged to you, sir,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;My name is John Passmore. We do
+      not of course appear in this matter unless the post-mortem should indicate
+      anything unusual in the circumstances of Duson&rsquo;s death, but it is always
+      well to be prepared, and I ventured to ask Mr. Hertz here to procure for
+      me your opinion as regards the death of your servant.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have asked me,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said gravely, &ldquo;a very difficult question.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The eyes of the little detective flashed keenly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You do not believe then, sir, that he died a natural death?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do not,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Hertz was startled. The detective controlled his features admirably.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;May I ask your reasons, sir?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin lightly shrugged his shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have never known the man to have a day&rsquo;s illness in his life,&rdquo; he said.
+      &ldquo;Further, since his arrival in England he has been acting in a strange and
+      furtive manner, and I gathered that he had some cause for fear which he
+      was indisposed to talk about.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This,&rdquo; the detective said, &ldquo;is very interesting.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Doubtless,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered. &ldquo;But before I say anything more I must
+      clearly understand my position. I am giving you personally a few friendly
+      hints, in the interests of justice perhaps, but still quite informally. I
+      am not in possession of any definite facts concerning Duson, and what I
+      say to you here I am not prepared to say at the inquest, before which I
+      presume I may have to appear as a witness. There, I shall do nothing more
+      save identify Duson and state the circumstances under which I found him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I understand that perfectly, sir,&rdquo; the man answered. &ldquo;The less said at
+      the inquest the better in the interests of justice.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am glad,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;that you appreciate that. I do not mind going so
+      far then as to tell you that I believe Duson died of poison.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Can you give me any idea,&rdquo; the detective asked, &ldquo;as to the source?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;None,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered. &ldquo;That you must discover for yourselves. Duson
+      was a man of silent and secretive habits, and it has occurred to me more
+      than once that he might possibly be a member of one of those foreign
+      societies who have their headquarters in Soho, and concerning which you
+      probably know more than I do.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The detective smiled. It was a very slight flicker of the lips, but it
+      attracted Mr. Sabin&rsquo;s keen attention.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your suggestions,&rdquo; the detective said, &ldquo;are making this case a very
+      interesting one. I have always understood, however, that reprisals of this
+      extreme nature are seldom resorted to in this country. Besides, the man&rsquo;s
+      position seems scarcely to indicate sufficient importance&mdash;perhaps&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well?&rdquo; Mr. Sabin interjected.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I notice that Duson was found in your sitting-room. It occurs to me as a
+      possibility that he may have met with a fate intended for some one else&mdash;for
+      yourself, for instance, sir!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said smoothly, &ldquo;am a member of no secret society, nor
+      am I conscious of having enemies sufficiently venomous to desire my life.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The detective sat for a moment with immovable face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We, all of us, know our friends, sir,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;There are few of us
+      properly acquainted with our enemies.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin lit a cigarette. His fingers were quite steady, but this man was
+      making him think.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You do not seriously believe,&rdquo; he asked, &ldquo;that Duson met with a death
+      which was intended for me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am afraid,&rdquo; the detective said thoughtfully, &ldquo;that I know no more about
+      it than you do.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I see,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;that I am no stranger to you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are very far from being that, sir,&rdquo; the man answered. &ldquo;A few years
+      ago I was working for the Government&mdash;and you were not often out of
+      my sight.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was perhaps judicious,&rdquo; he remarked, &ldquo;though I am afraid it proved of
+      very little profit to you. And what about the present time?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I see no harm in telling you, sir, that a general watch is kept upon your
+      movements. Duson was useful to us... but now Duson is dead.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is a fact,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said impressively, &ldquo;that Duson was a genius. My
+      admiration for him continually increases.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Duson made harmless reports to us as we desired them,&rdquo; the detective
+      said. &ldquo;I have an idea, however, that if this course had at any time been
+      inimical to your interests that Duson would have deceived us.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am convinced of it,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin declared.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And Duson is dead!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin nodded gravely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The little hard-visaged man looked steadily for a moment upon the carpet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Duson died virtually whilst accepting pay from if not actually in the
+      employ of our Secret Service Department. You will understand, therefore,
+      that we, knowing of this complication in his life, naturally incline
+      towards the theory of murder. Shall I be taking a liberty, sir, if I give
+      you an unprofessional word of warning?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin raised his eyebrows.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By no means,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;But surely you cannot&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, sir,&rdquo; he said drily. &ldquo;I do not for one moment suspect you. The man
+      was our spy upon your movements, but I am perfectly aware that there has
+      been nothing worth reporting, and I also know that you would never run
+      such a risk for the removal of so insignificant a person. No, my warning
+      comes to you from a different point of view. It is, if you will pardon my
+      saying so, none the less personal, but wholly friendly. The case of Duson
+      will be sifted to the dregs, but unless I am greatly mistaken, and I do
+      not see room for the possibility of a mistake, I know the truth already.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will share your knowledge?&rdquo; Mr. Sabin asked quietly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The detective shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You shall know,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;before the last moment. But I want to warn you
+      that when you do know it&mdash;it will be a shock to you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin stood perfectly still for several moments. This little man
+      believed what he was saying. He was certainly deceived. Yet none the less
+      Mr. Sabin was thoughtful.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You do not feel inclined,&rdquo; he said slowly, &ldquo;to give me your entire
+      confidence.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not at present, sir,&rdquo; the man answered. &ldquo;You would certainly intervene,
+      and my case would be spoilt.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin glanced at the clock.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you care to call on me to-morrow,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I could perhaps show you
+      something which might change your opinion.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The detective bowed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am always open, sir,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;to conviction. I will come about twelve
+      o&rsquo;clock.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin went back to the palm lounge. Lucille and Reginald Brott were
+      sitting together at a small table, talking earnestly to one another. The
+      Prince and Lady Carey had joined another party who were all talking
+      together near the entrance. The latter, directly she saw them coming,
+      detached herself from them and came to him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your coffee is almost cold,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;but the Prince has found some
+      brandy of wonderful age, somewhere in the last century, I believe.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin glanced towards Lucille. She appeared engrossed in her
+      conversation, and had not noticed his approach. Lady Carey shrugged.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have only a few minutes,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;before that dreadful person
+      comes and frowns us all out. I have kept you a chair.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin sat down. Lady Carey interposed herself between him and the
+      small table at which Lucille was sitting.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have they discovered anything?&rdquo; she asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing!&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She played with her fan for a moment. Then she looked him steadily in the
+      face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My friend?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He glanced towards her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lady Carey!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why are you so obstinate?&rdquo; she exclaimed in a low, passionate whisper. &ldquo;I
+      want to be your friend, and I could be very useful to you. Yet you keep me
+      always at arm&rsquo;s length. You are making a mistake. Indeed you are. I
+      suppose you do not trust me. Yet reflect. Have I ever told you anything
+      that was not true? Have I ever tried to deceive you? I don&rsquo;t pretend to be
+      a paragon of the virtues. I live my life to please myself. I admit it. Why
+      not? It is simply applying the same sort of philosophy to my life as you
+      have applied to yours. My enemies can find plenty to say about me&mdash;but
+      never that I have been false to a friend. Why do you keep me always at
+      arm&rsquo;s length, as though I were one of those who wished you evil?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lady Carey,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;I will not affect to misunderstand you, and
+      I am flattered that you should consider my good will of any importance.
+      But you are the friend of the Prince of Saxe Leinitzer. You are one of
+      those even now who are working actively against me. I am not blaming you,
+      but we are on opposite sides.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey looked for a moment across at the Prince, and her eyes were
+      full of venom.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you knew,&rdquo; she murmured, &ldquo;how I loathe that man. Friends! That is all
+      long since past. Nothing would give me so much pleasure as never to see
+      his face again.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nevertheless,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin reminded her, &ldquo;whatever your private feelings
+      may be, he has claims upon you which you cannot resist.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is one thing in the world,&rdquo; she said in a low tone, &ldquo;for which I
+      would risk even the abnegation of those claims.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You would perjure your honour?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;if it came to that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin moved uneasily in his chair. The woman was in earnest. She
+      offered him an invaluable alliance; she could show him the way to hold his
+      own against even the inimical combination by which he was surrounded. If
+      only he could compromise. But her eyes were seeking his eagerly, even
+      fiercely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You doubt me still,&rdquo; she whispered. &ldquo;And I thought that you had genius.
+      Listen, I will prove myself. The Prince has one of his foolish passions
+      for Lucille. You know that. So far she has shown herself able to resist
+      his fascinations. He is trying other means. Lucille is in danger! Duson!&mdash;but
+      after all, I was never really in danger, except the time when I carried
+      the despatches for the colonel and rode straight into a Boer ambush.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin saw nothing, but he did not move a muscle of his face. A moment
+      later they heard the Prince&rsquo;s voice from behind them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am very sorry,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;to interrupt these interesting reminiscences,
+      but you see that every one is going. Lucille is already in the
+      cloak-room.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey rose at once, but the glance she threw at the Prince was a
+      singularly malicious one. They walked down the carpeted way together, and
+      Lady Carey left them without a word. In the vestibule Mr. Sabin and
+      Reginald Brott came face to face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0033" id="link2HCH0033">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXXIII
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The greeting between the two men was cold, and the Prince almost
+      immediately stepped between them. Nevertheless, Brott seemed to have a
+      fancy to talk with Mr. Sabin.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was at Camperdown House yesterday,&rdquo; he remarked. &ldquo;Her Ladyship was
+      regretting that she saw you so seldom.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have been a little remiss,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered. &ldquo;I hope to lunch there
+      to-morrow.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have seen the evening paper, Brott?&rdquo; the Prince asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I saw the early editions,&rdquo; Brott answered. &ldquo;Is there anything fresh?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince dropped his voice a little. He drew Brott on one side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Westminster declared that you had left for Windsor by an early train
+      this afternoon, and gives a list of your Cabinet. The Pall Mall, on the
+      other hand, declares that Letheringham will assuredly be sent for
+      to-morrow.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Brott shrugged his shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There are bound to be a crop of such reports at a time like this,&rdquo; he
+      remarked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince dropped his voice almost to a whisper.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Brott,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;there is something which I have had it in my mind to
+      say to you for the last few days. I am not perhaps a great politician,
+      but, like many outsiders, I see perhaps a good deal of the game. I know
+      fairly well what the feeling is in Vienna and Berlin. I can give you a
+      word of advice.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are very kind, Prince,&rdquo; Brott remarked, looking uneasily over his
+      shoulder. &ldquo;But&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is concerning Brand. There is no man more despised and disliked
+      abroad, not only because he is a Jew and ill-bred, but because of his
+      known sympathy with some of these anarchists who are perfect firebrands in
+      Europe.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am exceedingly obliged to you,&rdquo; Brott answered hurriedly. &ldquo;I am afraid,
+      however, that you anticipate matters a good deal. I have not yet been
+      asked to form a Cabinet. It is doubtful whether I ever shall. And, beyond
+      that, it is also doubtful whether even if I am asked I shall accept.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I must confess,&rdquo; the Prince said, &ldquo;that you puzzle me. Every one says
+      that the Premiership of the country is within your reach. It is surely the
+      Mecca of all politicians.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There are complications,&rdquo; Brott muttered. &ldquo;You&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He stopped short and moved towards the door. Lucille, unusually pale and
+      grave, had just issued from the ladies&rsquo; ante-room, and joined Lady Carey,
+      who was talking to Mr. Sabin. She touched the latter lightly on the arm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Help us to escape,&rdquo; she said quickly. &ldquo;I am weary of my task. Can we get
+      away without their seeing us?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin offered his arm. They passed along the broad way, and as they
+      were almost the last to leave the place, their carriage was easily found.
+      The Prince and Mr. Brott appeared only in time to see Mr. Sabin turning
+      away, hat in hand, from the curb-stone. Brott&rsquo;s face darkened.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Prince,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;who is that man?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince shrugged his shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A man,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;who has more than once nearly ruined your country. His
+      life has been a splendid failure. He would have given India to the
+      Russians, but they mistrusted him and trifled away their chance. Once
+      since then he nearly sold this country to Germany; it was a trifle only
+      which intervened. He has been all his life devoted to one cause.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And that?&rdquo; Brott asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The restoration of the monarchy to France. He, as you of course know, is
+      the Duc de Souspennier, the sole living member in the direct line of one
+      of the most ancient and historical houses in England. My friend,&rdquo; he
+      added, turning to Mr. Sabin, &ldquo;you have stolen a march upon us. We had not
+      even an opportunity of making our adieux to the ladies.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I imagine,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered, &ldquo;that the cause of quarrel may rest with
+      them. You were nowhere in sight when they came out.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;These fascinating politics,&rdquo; the Prince remarked. &ldquo;We all want to talk
+      politics to Mr. Brott just now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will wish you good-night, gentlemen,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, and passed into
+      the hotel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince touched Brott on the arm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will you come round to the club, and take a hand at bridge?&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Brott laughed shortly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I imagine,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;that I should be an embarrassing guest to you just
+      now at, say the Mallborough, or even at the St. James. I believe the
+      aristocracy are looking forward to the possibility of my coming into power
+      with something like terror.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am not thoroughly versed; in the politics of this country,&rdquo; the Prince
+      said, &ldquo;but I have always understood that your views were very much
+      advanced. Dorset solemnly believes that you are pledged to exterminate the
+      large landed proprietors, and I do not think he would be surprised to hear
+      that you had a guillotine up your sleeve.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The two men were strolling along Pall Mall. The Prince had lit a large
+      cigar, and was apparently on the best of terms with himself and the world
+      in general. Brott, on the contrary, was most unlike himself, preoccupied,
+      and apparently ill at ease.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Duke and his class are, of course, my natural opponents,&rdquo; Brott said
+      shortly. &ldquo;By the bye, Prince,&rdquo; he added, suddenly turning towards him, and
+      with a complete change of tone, &ldquo;it is within your power to do me a
+      favour.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have only to command,&rdquo; the Prince assured him good-naturedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My rooms are close here,&rdquo; Brott continued. &ldquo;Will you accompany me there,
+      and grant me the favour of a few minutes&rsquo; conversation?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Assuredly!&rdquo; the Prince answered, flicking the end off his cigar. &ldquo;It will
+      be a pleasure.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They walked on towards their destination in silence. Brott&rsquo;s secretary was
+      in the library with a huge pile of letters and telegrams before him. He
+      welcomed Brott with relief.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We have been sending all over London for you, sir,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Brott nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am better out of the way for the present,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;Deny me to
+      everybody for an hour, especially Letheringham. There is nothing here, I
+      suppose, which cannot wait so long as that?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The secretary looked a little doubtful.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think not, sir,&rdquo; he decided.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very good. Go and get something to eat. You look fagged. And tell Hyson
+      to bring up some liqueurs, will you! I shall be engaged for a short time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The secretary withdrew. A servant appeared with a little tray of liqueurs,
+      and in obedience to an impatient gesture from his master, left them upon
+      the table. Brott closed the door firmly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Prince,&rdquo; he said, resuming his seat, &ldquo;I wished to speak with you
+      concerning the Countess.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Saxe Leinitzer nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All right,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I am listening!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I understand,&rdquo; Brott continued, &ldquo;that you are one of her oldest friends,
+      and also one of the trustees of her estates. I presume that you stand to
+      her therefore to some extent in the position of an adviser?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is perfectly true,&rdquo; the Prince admitted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I, too, am an old friend, as she has doubtless told you,&rdquo; Brott said.
+      &ldquo;All my life she has been the one woman whom I have desired to call my
+      wife. That desire has never been so strong as at the present moment.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince removed his cigar from his mouth and looked grave.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, my dear Brott,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;have you considered the enormous gulf
+      between your&mdash;views? The Countess owns great hereditary estates, she
+      comes from a family which is almost Royal, she herself is an aristocrat to
+      the backbone. It is a class against which you have declared war. How can
+      you possibly come together on common ground?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Brott was silent for a moment. Looking at him steadily the Prince was
+      surprised at the change in the man&rsquo;s appearance. His cheeks seemed
+      blanched and his skin drawn. He had lost flesh, his eyes were hollow, and
+      he frequently betrayed in small mannerisms a nervousness wholly new and
+      unfamiliar to him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You speak as a man of sense, Prince,&rdquo; he said after a while. &ldquo;You are
+      absolutely correct. This matter has caused me a great deal of anxious
+      thought. To falter at this moment is to lose, politically, all that I have
+      worked for all my life. It is to lose the confidence of the people who
+      have trusted me. It is a betrayal, the thought of which is a constant
+      shame to me. But, on the other hand, Lucille is the dearest thing to me in
+      life.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince&rsquo;s expression was wholly sympathetic. The derision which lurked
+      behind he kept wholly concealed. A strong man so abjectly in the toils,
+      and he to be chosen for his confidant! It was melodrama with a dash of
+      humour.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If I am to help you,&rdquo; the Prince said, &ldquo;I must know everything. Have you
+      made any proposals to Lucille? In plain words, how much of your political
+      future are you disposed to sacrifice?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All!&rdquo; Brott said hoarsely. &ldquo;All for a certainty of her. Not one jot
+      without.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And she?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Brott sprang to his feet, white and nervous.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is where I am at fault,&rdquo; he exclaimed. &ldquo;It is why I have asked for
+      your advice, your help perhaps. I do not find it easy to understand
+      Lucille. Perhaps it is because I am not well versed in the ways of her
+      sex. I find her elusive. She will give me no promise. Before I went to
+      Glasgow I talked with her. If she would have married me then my political
+      career was over&mdash;thrown on one side like an old garment. But she
+      would give me no promise. In everything save the spoken words I crave she
+      has promised me her love. Again there comes a climax. In a few hours I
+      must make my final choice. I must decline to join Letheringham, in which
+      case the King must send for me, or accept office with him, and throw away
+      the one great chance of this generation. Letheringham&rsquo;s Cabinet, of
+      course, would be a moderate Liberal one, a paragon of milk and water in
+      effectiveness. If I go in alone we make history. The moment of issue has
+      come. And, Prince, although I have pleaded with all the force and all the
+      earnestness I know, Lucille remains elusive. If I choose for her side&mdash;she
+      promises me&mdash;reward. But it is vague to me. I don&rsquo;t, I can&rsquo;t
+      understand! I want her for my wife, I want her for the rest of my life&mdash;nothing
+      else. Tell me, is there any barrier to this? There are no complications in
+      her life which I do not know of? I want your assurance. I want her
+      promise. You understand me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I understand you,&rdquo; the Prince said gravely. &ldquo;I understand more than
+      you do. I understand Lucille&rsquo;s position.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Brott leaned forward with bright eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lucille, the Countess of Radantz, is at the present moment a married
+      woman.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Brott was speechless. His face was like a carved stone image, from which
+      the life had wholly gone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Her husband&mdash;in name only, let me tell you, is the Mr. Sabin with
+      whom we had supper this evening.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Great God!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Their marriage had strange features in it which are not my concern, or
+      even yours,&rdquo; the Prince said deliberately. &ldquo;The truth is, that they have
+      not lived together for years, they never will again, for their divorce
+      proceedings would long ago have been concluded but for the complications
+      arising from the difference between the Hungarian and the American laws.
+      Here, without doubt, is the reason why the Countess has hesitated to
+      pledge her word directly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is wonderful,&rdquo; Brott said slowly. &ldquo;But it explains everything.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a loud knock at the door. The secretary appeared upon the
+      threshold. Behind him was a tall, slim young man in traveling costume.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The King&rsquo;s messenger!&rdquo; Brott exclaimed, rising to his feet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0034" id="link2HCH0034">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXXIV
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The Prince presented himself with a low bow. Lucille had a copy of the
+      morning paper in her hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I congratulate you, Countess,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;You progress admirably. It is a
+      great step gained.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille, who was looking pale and nervous, regarded him with anxiety.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A step! But it is everything. If these rumours are true, he refuses the
+      attempt to form a Cabinet. He takes a subordinate position under
+      Letheringham. Every paper this morning says that if this is so his
+      political career is over. It is true, is it not?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is a great gain,&rdquo; the Prince said slowly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But it is everything,&rdquo; Lucille declared, with a rising note of passion in
+      her tone. &ldquo;It was my task. It is accomplished. I demand my release.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince was silent for a moment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are in a great hurry, Lucille,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What if I am!&rdquo; she replied fiercely. &ldquo;Do you suppose that this life of
+      lies and deceit is pleasant to me? Do you suppose that it is a pleasant
+      task to lure a brave man on to his ruin?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince raised his eyebrows.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;you can have no sympathy with Reginald Brott, the sworn
+      enemy of our class, a Socialist, a demagogue who would parcel out our
+      lands in allotments, a man who has pledged himself to nothing more nor
+      less than a revolution.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The man&rsquo;s views are hateful enough,&rdquo; she answered, &ldquo;but he is in earnest,
+      and however misguided he may be there is something noble in his
+      unselfishness, in his, steady fixedness of purpose.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince&rsquo;s face indicated his contempt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Such men,&rdquo; he declared, &ldquo;are only fit to be crushed like vermin under
+      foot. In any other country save England we should have dealt with him
+      differently.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is all beside the question,&rdquo; she declared. &ldquo;My task was to prevent
+      his becoming Prime Minister, and I have succeeded.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince gave vent to a little gesture of dissent. &ldquo;Your task,&rdquo; he said,
+      &ldquo;went a little farther than that. We require his political ruin.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She pointed to the pile of newspapers upon the table.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Read what they say!&rdquo; she exclaimed. &ldquo;There is not one who does not use
+      that precise term. He has missed his opportunity. The people will never
+      trust him again.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That, at any rate, is not certain,&rdquo; the Prince said. &ldquo;You must remember
+      that before long he will realise that he has been your tool. What then? He
+      will become more rabid than ever, more also to be feared. No, Lucille,
+      your task is not yet over. He must be involved in an open and public
+      scandal, and with you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She was white almost to the lips with passion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You expect a great deal!&rdquo; she exclaimed. &ldquo;You expect me to ruin my life,
+      then, to give my honour as well as these weary months, this constant
+      humiliation.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are pleased to be melodramatic,&rdquo; he said coldly. &ldquo;It is quite
+      possible to involve him without actually going to extremes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And what of my husband?&rdquo; she asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince laughed unpleasantly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you have not taught him complaisance,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;it is possible, of
+      course, that Mr. Sabin might be unkind. But what of it? You are your own
+      mistress. You are a woman of the world. Without him there is an infinitely
+      greater future before you than as his wife you could ever enjoy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are pleased,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;to be enigmatic.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince looked hard at her. Her face was white and set. He sighed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lucille,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I have been very patient for many years. Yet you know
+      very well my secret, and in your heart you know very well that I am one of
+      those who generally win the thing upon which they have set their hearts. I
+      have always loved you, Lucille, but never more than now. Fidelity is
+      admirable, but surely you have done your duty. He is an old man, and a man
+      who has failed in the great things of life. I, on the other hand, can
+      offer you a great future. Saxe Leinitzer, as you know, is a kingdom of its
+      own, and, Lucille, I stand well with the Emperor. The Socialist party in
+      Berlin are strong and increasing. He needs us. Who can say what honours
+      may not be in store for us? For I, too, am of the Royal House, Lucille. I
+      am his kinsman. He never forgets that. Come, throw aside this
+      restlessness. I will tell you how to deal with Brott, and the publicity,
+      after all, will be nothing. We will go abroad directly afterwards.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have you finished?&rdquo; she asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will be reasonable!&rdquo; he begged.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Reasonable!&rdquo; She turned upon him with flashing eyes. &ldquo;I wonder how you
+      ever dared to imagine that I could tolerate you for one moment as a lover
+      or a husband. Wipe it out of your mind once and for all. You are repellent
+      to me. Positively the only wish I have in connection with you is never to
+      see your face again. As for my duty, I have done it. My conscience is
+      clear. I shall leave this house to-day.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I hope,&rdquo; the Prince said softly, &ldquo;that you will do nothing rash!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In an hour,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;I shall be at the Carlton with my husband. I will
+      trust to him to protect me from you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You talk rashly,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;You do not think. You are forbidden to leave
+      this house. You are forbidden to join your husband.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She laughed scornfully, but underneath was a tremor of uneasiness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You summoned me from America,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;and I came... I was forced to
+      leave my husband without even a word of farewell. I did it! You set me a
+      task&mdash;I have accomplished it. I claim that I have kept my bond, that
+      I have worked out my own freedom. If you require more of me, I say that
+      you are overstepping your authority, and I refuse. Set the black cross
+      against my name if you will. I will take the risk.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince came a little nearer to her. She held her own bravely enough,
+      but there was a look in his face which terrified her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lucille,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;you force me to disclose something which I have kept
+      so far to myself. I wished to spare you anxiety, but you must understand
+      that your safety depends upon your remaining in this house, and in keeping
+      apart from all association with&mdash;your husband.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will find it difficult,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;to convince me of that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;On the contrary,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I shall find it easy&mdash;too easy, believe
+      me. You will remember my finding you at the wine-shop of Emil Sachs?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You refused to tell me the object of your visit. It was foolish, for of
+      course I was informed. You procured from Emil a small quantity of the
+      powder prepared according to the recipe of Herr Estentrauzen, and for
+      which we paid him ten thousand marks. It is the most silent, the most
+      secret, the most swift poison yet discovered.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I got it for myself,&rdquo; she said coldly. &ldquo;There have been times when I have
+      felt that the possession of something of that sort was an absolute
+      necessity.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do not question you as to the reason for your getting it,&rdquo; he answered.
+      &ldquo;Very shortly afterwards you left your carriage in Pall Mall, and without
+      even asking for your husband you called at his hotel&mdash;you stole up
+      into his room.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I took some roses there and left them,&rdquo; she said &ldquo;What of that?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Only that you were the last person seen to enter Mr. Sabin&rsquo;s rooms before
+      Duson was found there dead. And Duson died from a dose of that same
+      poison, a packet of which you procured secretly from Emil Sachs. An empty
+      wineglass was by his side&mdash;it was one generally used by Mr. Sabin. I
+      know that the English police, who are not so foolish as people would have
+      one believe, are searching now for the woman who was seen to enter the
+      sitting-room shortly before Mr. Sabin returned and found Duson there
+      dead.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She laughed scornfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is ingenious,&rdquo; she admitted, &ldquo;and perhaps a little unfortunate for me.
+      But the inference is ridiculous. What interest had I in the man&rsquo;s death?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;None, of course!&rdquo; the Prince said. &ldquo;But, Lucille, in all cases of
+      poisoning it is the wife of whom one first thinks!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The wife? I did not even know that the creature had a wife.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course not! But Duson drank from Mr. Sabin&rsquo;s glass, and you are Mr.
+      Sabin&rsquo;s wife. You are living apart from him. He is old and you are young.
+      And for the other man&mdash;there is Reginald Brott. Your names have been
+      coupled together, of course. See what an excellent case stands there. You
+      procure the poison&mdash;secretly. You make your way to your husband&rsquo;s
+      room&mdash;secretly. The fatal dose is taken from your husband&rsquo;s
+      wineglass. You leave no note, no message. The poison of which the man died
+      is exactly the same as you procured from Sachs. Lucille, after all, do you
+      wonder that the police are looking for a woman in black with an ermine
+      toque? What a mercy you wore a thick veil!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She sat down suddenly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is hideous,&rdquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Think it over,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;step by step. It is wonderful how all the
+      incidents dovetail into one another.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Too wonderful,&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;It sounds like some vile plot to incriminate
+      me. How much had you to do with this, Prince?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t be a fool!&rdquo; he answered roughly. &ldquo;Can&rsquo;t you see for yourself that
+      your arrest would be the most terrible thing that could happen for us?
+      Even Sachs might break down in cross-examination, and you&mdash;well, you
+      are a woman, and you want to live. We should all be in the most deadly
+      peril. Lucille, I would have spared you this anxiety if I could, but your
+      defiance made it necessary. There was no other way of getting you away
+      from England to-night except by telling you the truth.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Away from England to-night,&rdquo; she repeated vaguely. &ldquo;But I will not go. It
+      is impossible.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is imperative,&rdquo; the Prince declared, with a sharp ring of authority in
+      his tone. &ldquo;It is your own folly, for which you have to pay. You went
+      secretly to Emil Sachs. You paid surreptitious visits to your husband,
+      which were simply madness. You have involved us all in danger. For our own
+      sakes we must see that you are removed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is the very thing to excite suspicion&mdash;flight abroad,&rdquo; she
+      objected.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your flight,&rdquo; he said coolly, &ldquo;will be looked upon from a different point
+      of view, for Reginald Brott must follow you. It will be an elopement, not
+      a flight from justice.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And in case I should decline?&rdquo; Lucille asked quietly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince shrugged his shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, we have done the best we can for ourselves,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Come, I will
+      be frank with you. There are great interests involved here, and, before
+      all things, I have had to consider the welfare of our friends. That is my
+      duty! Emil Sachs by this time is beyond risk of detection. He has left
+      behind a letter, in which he confesses that he has for some time
+      supplemented the profits of his wine-shop by selling secretly certain
+      deadly poisons of his own concoctions. Alarmed at reading of the death of
+      Duson immediately after he had sold a poison which the symptoms denoted he
+      had fled the country. That letter is in the hands of the woman who remains
+      in the wine-shop, and will only be used in case of necessity. By other
+      means we have dissociated ourselves from Duson and all connection with
+      him. I think I could go so far as to say that it would be impossible to
+      implicate us. Our sole anxiety now, therefore, is to save you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille rose to her feet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shall go at once to my husband,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I shall tell him
+      everything. I shall act on his advice.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince stood over by the door, and she heard the key turn.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will do nothing of the sort,&rdquo; he said quietly. &ldquo;You are in my power
+      at last, Lucille. You will do my bidding, or&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Or what?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shall myself send for the police and give you into custody!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0035" id="link2HCH0035">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXXV
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The Prince crossed the hall and entered the morning-room. Felix was there
+      and Raoul de Brouillac. The Duchess sat at her writing-table, scribbling a
+      note. Lady Carey, in a wonderful white serge costume, and a huge bunch of
+      Neapolitan violets at her bosom, was lounging in an easy-chair, swinging
+      her foot backwards and forwards. The Duke, in a very old tweed coat, but
+      immaculate as to linen and the details of his toilet, stood a little
+      apart, with a frown upon his forehead, and exactly that absorbed air which
+      in the House of Lords usually indicated his intention to make a speech.
+      The entrance of the Prince, who carefully closed the door behind him, was
+      an event for which evidently they were all waiting.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My good people,&rdquo; he said blandly, &ldquo;I wish you all a very good-morning.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a little murmur of greetings, and before they had all subsided
+      the Duke spoke.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Saxe Leinitzer,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I have a few questions to ask you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince looked across the room at him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By all means, Duke,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;But is the present an opportune time?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Opportune or no, it is the time which I have selected,&rdquo; the Duke answered
+      stiffly. &ldquo;I do not altogether understand what is going on in this house. I
+      am beginning to wonder whether I have been misled.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince, as he twirled his fair moustache, glanced carelessly enough
+      across at the Duchess. She was looking the other way.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I became a&mdash;er&mdash;general member of this Society,&rdquo; the Duke
+      continued, &ldquo;sympathising heartily with its objects as explained to me by
+      you, Prince, and believing, although to confess it is somewhat of a
+      humiliation, that a certain amount of&mdash;er&mdash;combination amongst
+      the aristocracy has become necessary to resist the terrible increase of
+      Socialism which we must all so much deplore.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are not making a speech, dear,&rdquo; the Duchess remarked, looking coldly
+      across the room at him. &ldquo;We are all anxious to hear what the Prince has to
+      say to us.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your anxiety,&rdquo; the Duke continued, &ldquo;and the anxiety of our friends must
+      be restrained for a few minutes, for there are certain things which I am
+      determined to say, and to say them now. I must confess that it was at
+      first a painful shock to me to realise that the time had come when it was
+      necessary for us to take any heed of the uneducated rabble who seem born
+      into the world discontented with their station in life, and instead of
+      making honest attempts to improve it waste their time railing against us
+      who are more fortunately placed, and in endeavours to mislead in every
+      possible way the electorate of the country.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince sighed softly, and lit a cigarette. Lady Carey and Felix were
+      already smoking.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;However,&rdquo; the Duke continued, &ldquo;I was convinced. I have always believed in
+      the principle of watching closely the various signs of the times, and I
+      may say that I came to the conclusion that a combination of the thinking
+      members of the aristocratic party throughout the world was an excellent
+      idea. I therefore became what is, I believe, called a general member of
+      the Order, of which I believe you, Prince, are the actual head.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear James,&rdquo; the Duchess murmured, &ldquo;the Prince has something to say to
+      us.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Prince,&rdquo; her husband answered coldly, &ldquo;can keep back his information
+      for a few minutes. I am determined to place my position clearly before all
+      of you who are present here now. It is only since I have joined this
+      Society that I have been made aware that in addition to the general
+      members, of which body I believe that the Duchess and I are the sole
+      representatives here, there are special members, and members of the inner
+      circle. And I understand that in connection with these there is a great
+      machinery of intrigue going on all the time, with branches all over the
+      world, spies everywhere with unlimited funds, and with huge opportunities
+      of good or evil. In effect I have become an outside member of what is
+      nothing more nor less than a very powerful and, it seems to me, daring
+      secret society.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So far as you are concerned, Duke,&rdquo; the Prince said, &ldquo;your responsibility
+      ceases with ordinary membership. You can take no count of anything beyond.
+      The time may come when the inner circle may be opened to you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Duke coughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You misapprehend me,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I can assure you I am not anxious for
+      promotion. On the contrary, I stand before you an aggrieved person. I have
+      come to the conclusion that my house, and the shelter of my wife&rsquo;s name,
+      have been used for a plot, the main points of which have been kept wholly
+      secret from me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince flicked his cigarette ash into the grate.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear Dorset,&rdquo; he said gently, &ldquo;if you will allow me to explain&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I thank you, Saxe Leinitzer,&rdquo; the Duke said coldly, &ldquo;but it is beginning
+      to occur to me that I have had enough of your explanations. It seemed
+      natural enough to me, and I must say well conceived, that some attempt
+      should be made to modify the views of, if not wholly convert, Reginald
+      Brott by means of the influence of a very charming woman. It was my duty
+      as a member of the Order to assist in this, and the shelter of my house
+      and name were freely accorded to the Countess. But it is news to me to
+      find that she was brought here practically by force. That because she was
+      an inner member and therefore bound to implicit obedience that she was
+      dragged away from her husband, kept apart from him against her will,
+      forced into endeavours to make a fool of Brott even at the cost of her
+      good name. And now, worst of all, I am told that a very deeply laid plot
+      on the part of some of you will compel her to leave England almost at
+      once, and that her safety depends upon her inducing Reginald Brott to
+      accompany her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She has appealed to you,&rdquo; the Prince muttered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She has done nothing so sensible,&rdquo; the Duke answered drily. &ldquo;The facts
+      which I have just stated are known to every one in this room. I perhaps
+      know less than any one. But I know enough for this. I request, Saxe
+      Leinitzer, that you withdraw the name of myself and my wife from your list
+      of members, and that you understand clearly that my house is to be no more
+      used for meetings of the Society, formal or informal. And, further, though
+      I regret the apparent inhospitality of my action, my finger is now, as you
+      see, upon the bell, and I venture to wish you all a very good-morning.
+      Groves,&rdquo; he added to the servant who answered the door, &ldquo;the Prince of
+      Saxe Leinitzer&rsquo;s carriage is urgently required.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince and Lady Carey descended the broad steps side by side. She was
+      laughing softly but immoderately. The Prince was pale with fury.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pompous old ass,&rdquo; he muttered savagely. &ldquo;He may have a worse scandal in
+      his house now than he dreams of.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She wiped her eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have I not always told you,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;that intrigue in this country was
+      a sheer impossibility? You may lay your plans ever so carefully, but you
+      cannot foresee such a contretemps as this.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Idiot!&rdquo; the Prince cried. &ldquo;Oh, the dolt! Why, even his wife was amazed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He may be all those pleasant things,&rdquo; Lady Carey, said, &ldquo;but he is a
+      gentleman.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He stopped short. The footman was standing by the side of Lady Carey&rsquo;s
+      victoria with a rug on his arm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lucille,&rdquo; he said thoughtfully, &ldquo;is locked in the morning-room. She is
+      prostrate with fear. If the Duke sees her everything is over. Upon my
+      word, I have a good mind to throw this all up and cross to Paris to-night.
+      Let England breed her own revolutions. What do you say, Muriel? Will you
+      come with me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She laughed scornfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&rsquo;d as soon go with my coachman,&rdquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His eyebrows narrowed. A dull, purple flush crept to his forehead.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your wit,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;is a little coarse. Listen! You wish our first plan
+      to go through?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then you must get Lucille out of that house. If she is left there she is
+      absolutely lost to us. Apart from that, she is herself not safe. Our plan
+      worked out too well. She is really in danger from this Duson affair.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The laughter died away from Lady Carey&rsquo;s face. She hesitated with her foot
+      upon the step of her carriage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You can go back easily enough,&rdquo; the Prince said. &ldquo;You are the Duke&rsquo;s
+      cousin, and you were not included in his tirade. Lucille is in the
+      morning-room, and here is the key. I brought it away with me. You must
+      tell her that all our plans are broken, that we have certain knowledge
+      that the police are on the track of this Duson affair. Get her to your
+      house in Pont Street, and I will be round this afternoon. Or better still,
+      take her to mine.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey stepped back on to the pavement. She was still, however,
+      hesitating.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Leave her with the Duke and Duchess,&rdquo; the Prince said, &ldquo;and she will dine
+      with her husband to-night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey took the key from his hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will try,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;How shall you know whether I succeed?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will wait in the gardens,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;I shall be out of sight, but I
+      shall be able to see you come out. If you are alone I shall come to you.
+      If she is with you I shall be at your house in an hour, and I promise you
+      that she shall leave England to-night with me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Poor Brott!&rdquo; she murmured ironically.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He will follow her. Every one will believe that they left London
+      together. That is all that is required.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey re-entered the house. The Prince made his way into the gardens.
+      Ten minutes passed&mdash;a quarter of an hour. Then Lady Carey with
+      Lucille reappeared, and stepping quickly into the victoria were driven
+      away. The Prince drew a little sigh of relief. He looked at his watch,
+      called a hansom, and drove to his club for lunch.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Another man, who had also been watching Dorset House from the gardens for
+      several hours, also noted Lucille&rsquo;s advent with relief. He followed the
+      Prince out and entered another hansom.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Follow that victoria which has just driven off,&rdquo; he ordered. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t lose
+      sight of it. Double fare.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The trap-door fell, and the man whipped up his horse.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0036" id="link2HCH0036">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXXVI
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin received an early visitor whilst still lingering over a slight
+      but elegant breakfast. Passmore seated himself in an easy-chair and
+      accepted the cigar which his host himself selected for him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am glad to see you,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said. &ldquo;This affair of Duson&rsquo;s remains a
+      complete mystery to me. I am looking to you to help me solve it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The little man with the imperturbable face removed his cigar from his
+      mouth and contemplated it steadfastly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is mysterious,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;There are circumstances in connection with
+      it which even now puzzle me very much, very much indeed. There are
+      circumstances in connection with it also which I fear may be a shock to
+      you, sir.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My life,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, with a faint smile, &ldquo;has been made up of
+      shocks. A few more or less may not hurt me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Duson,&rdquo; the detective said, &ldquo;was at heart a faithful servant!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I believe it,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He was much attached to you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I believe it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is possible that unwittingly he died for you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin was silent. It was his way of avoiding a confession of surprise.
+      And he was surprised. &ldquo;You believe then,&rdquo; he said, after a moment&rsquo;s pause,
+      &ldquo;that the poison was intended for me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly I do,&rdquo; the detective answered. &ldquo;Duson was, after all, a valet,
+      a person of little importance. There is no one to whom his removal could
+      have been of sufficient importance to justify such extreme measures. With
+      you it is different.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin knocked the ash from his cigarette.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why not be frank with me, Mr. Passmore?&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;There is no need to
+      shelter yourself under professional reticence. Your connection with
+      Scotland Yard ended, I believe, some time ago. You are free to speak or to
+      keep silence. Do one or the other. Tell me what you think, and I will tell
+      you what I know. That surely will be a fair exchange. You shall have my
+      facts for your surmises.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Passmore&rsquo;s thin lips curled into a smile. &ldquo;You know that I have left
+      Scotland Yard then, sir?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Quite well! You are employed by them often, I believe, but you are not on
+      the staff, not since the affair of Nerman and the code book.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      If Passmore had been capable of reverence, his eyes looked it at that
+      moment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You knew this last night, sir?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Five years ago, sir,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I told my chief that in you the detective
+      police of the world had lost one who must have been their king. More and
+      more you convince me of it. I cannot believe that you are ignorant of the
+      salient points concerning Duson&rsquo;s death.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Treat me as being so, at any rate,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am pardoned,&rdquo; Passmore said, &ldquo;for speaking plainly of family matters&mdash;my
+      concern in which is of course purely professional?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin looked up for a moment, but he signified his assent.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You left America,&rdquo; Passmore said, &ldquo;in search of your wife, formerly
+      Countess of Radantz, who had left you unexpectedly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is true!&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madame la Duchesse on reaching London became the guest of the Duchess of
+      Dorset, where she has been staying since. Whilst there she has received
+      many visits from Mr. Reginald Brott.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin&rsquo;s face was as the face of a sphinx. He made no sign.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You do not waste your time, sir, over the Society papers. Yet you have
+      probably heard that Madame la Duchesse and Mr. Reginald Brott have been
+      written about and spoken about as intimate friends. They have been seen
+      together everywhere. Gossip has been busy with their names. Mr. Brott has
+      followed the Countess into circles which before her coming he zealously
+      eschewed. The Countess is everywhere regarded as a widow, and a marriage
+      has been confidently spoken of.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin bowed his head slightly. But of expression there was in his face
+      no sign.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;These things,&rdquo; Passmore continued, &ldquo;are common knowledge. I have spoken
+      up to now of nothing which is not known to the world. I proceed
+      differently.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good!&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is,&rdquo; Passmore continued, &ldquo;in the foreign district of London a man
+      named Emil Sachs, who keeps a curious sort of a wine-shop, and supplements
+      his earnings by disposing at a high figure of certain rare and deadly
+      poisons. A few days ago the Countess visited him and secured a small
+      packet of the most deadly drug the man possesses.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin sat quite still. He was unmoved.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Countess,&rdquo; Passmore continued, &ldquo;shortly afterwards visited these
+      rooms. An hour after her departure Duson was dead. He died from drinking
+      out of your liqueur glass, into which a few specks of that powder,
+      invisible almost to the naked eye, had been dropped. At Dorset House
+      Reginald Brott was waiting for her. He left shortly afterwards in a state
+      of agitation.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And from these things,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;you draw, I presume, the natural
+      inference that Madame la Duchesse, desiring to marry her old admirer,
+      Reginald Brott, first left me in America, and then, since I followed her
+      here, attempted to poison me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is,&rdquo; Passmore said, &ldquo;a good deal of evidence to that effect.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, handing him Duson&rsquo;s letter, &ldquo;is some evidence to
+      the contrary.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Passmore read the letter carefully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You believe this,&rdquo; he asked, &ldquo;to be genuine?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am sure of it!&rdquo; he answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You recognise the handwriting?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And this came into your possession&mdash;how?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I found it on the table by Duson&rsquo;s side.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You intend to produce it at the inquest?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think not,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a short silence. Passmore was revolving a certain matter in his
+      mind&mdash;thinking hard. Mr. Sabin was apparently trying to make rings of
+      the blue smoke from his cigarette.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Has it occurred to you,&rdquo; Passmore asked, &ldquo;to wonder for what reason your
+      wife visited these rooms on the morning of Duson&rsquo;s death?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I cannot say that it has.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She knew that you were not here,&rdquo; Passmore continued. &ldquo;She left no
+      message. She came closely veiled and departed unrecognised.&rdquo; Mr. Sabin
+      nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There were reasons,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;for that. But when you say that she left
+      no message you are mistaken.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Passmore nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go on,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin nodded towards a great vase of La France roses upon a side
+      table.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I found these here on my return,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;and attached to them the card
+      which I believe is still there. Go and look at it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Passmore rose and bent over the fragrant blossoms. The card still
+      remained, and on the back of it, in a delicate feminine handwriting:
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+                            &ldquo;For my husband,
+                            &ldquo;with love from
+                               &ldquo;Lucille.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Passmore shrugged his shoulders. He had not the vice of obstinacy, and
+      he knew when to abandon a theory.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am corrected,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;In any case, a mystery remains as well worth
+      solving. Who are these people at whose instigation Duson was to have
+      murdered you&mdash;these people whom Duson feared so much that suicide was
+      his only alternative to obeying their behests?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin smiled faintly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, my dear Passmore,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;you must not ask me that question. I can
+      only answer you in this way. If you wish to make the biggest sensation
+      which has ever been created in the criminal world, to render yourself
+      immortal, and your fame imperishable&mdash;find out! I may not help you, I
+      doubt whether you will find any to help you. But if you want excitement,
+      the excitement of a dangerous chase after a tremendous quarry, take your
+      life in your hands, go in and win.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Passmore&rsquo;s withered little face lit up with a gleam of rare excitement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;These are your enemies, sir,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;They have attempted your life
+      once, they may do it again. Assume the offensive yourself. Give me a
+      hint.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That I cannot do,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I have saved you from wasting your time on a
+      false scent. I have given you something definite to work upon. Further
+      than that I can do nothing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Passmore looked his disappointment, but he knew Mr. Sabin better than to
+      argue the matter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will not even produce that letter at the inquest?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not even that,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Passmore rose to his feet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You must remember,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;that supposing any one else stumbles upon
+      the same trail as I have been pursuing, and suspicion is afterwards
+      directed towards madame, your not producing that letter at the inquest
+      will make it useless as evidence in her favour.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have considered all these things,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said. &ldquo;I shall deposit the
+      letter in a safe place. But its use will never be necessary. You are the
+      only man who might have forced me to produce it, and you know the truth.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Passmore rose reluctantly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I want you,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;to leave me not only your address, but the
+      means of finding you at any moment during the next four-and-twenty hours.
+      I may have some important work for you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man smiled as he tore leaf from his pocketbook and a made a few notes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shall be glad to take any commission from you, sir,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;To tell
+      you the truth, I scarcely thought that you would be content to sit down
+      and wait.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;that very shortly I can find you plenty to do.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0037" id="link2HCH0037">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXXVII
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin a few minutes afterwards ordered his carriage, and was driven to
+      Dorset House. He asked for Lucille, but was shown at once into the
+      library, where the Duke was awaiting him. Then Mr. Sabin knew that
+      something had happened.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Duke extended his hand solemnly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear Souspennier,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I am glad to see you. I was in fact on
+      the point of despatching a messenger to your hotel.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am glad,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin remarked, &ldquo;that my visit is opportune. To tell you
+      the truth, Duke, I am anxious to see my wife.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Duke coughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I trust,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;that you will not for a moment consider me guilty of
+      any discourtesy to the Countess, for whom I have a great respect and
+      liking. But it has come to my knowledge that the shelter of my roof and
+      name were being given to proceedings of which I heartily disapproved. I
+      therefore only a few hours ago formally broke off all connection with Saxe
+      Leinitzer and his friends, and to put the matter plainly, I expelled them
+      from the house.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I congratulate you heartily, Duke, upon a most sensible proceeding,&rdquo; Mr.
+      Sabin said. &ldquo;But in the meantime where is my wife?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your wife was not present at the time,&rdquo; the Duke answered, &ldquo;and I had not
+      the slightest intention of including her in the remarks I made. Whether
+      she understood this or not I cannot say, but I have since been given to
+      understand that she left with them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How long ago?&rdquo; Mr. Sabin asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Several hours, I fear,&rdquo; the Duke answered. &ldquo;I should like, Souspennier,
+      to express to you my regrets that I was ever induced to become connected
+      in any way with proceedings which must have caused you a great deal of
+      pain. I beg you to accept my apologies.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do not blame you, Duke,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said. &ldquo;My one desire now is to wrest
+      my wife away from this gang. Can you tell me whether she left alone or
+      with any of them?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will endeavour to ascertain,&rdquo; the Duke said, ringing the bell.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But before the Duke&rsquo;s somewhat long-winded series of questions had gone
+      very far Mr. Sabin grasped the fact that the servants had been tampered
+      with. Without wasting any more time he took a somewhat hurried leave and
+      drove back to the hotel. One of the hall porters approached him, smiling.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is a lady waiting for you in your rooms, sir,&rdquo; he announced. &ldquo;She
+      arrived a few minutes ago.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin rang for the elevator, got out at his floor and walked down the
+      corridor, leaning a little more heavily than usual upon his stick. If
+      indeed it were Lucille who had braved all and come to him the way before
+      them might still be smooth sailing. He would never let her go again. He
+      was sure of that. They would leave England&mdash;yes, there was time still
+      to catch the five o&rsquo;clock train. He turned the handle of his door and
+      entered. A familiar figure rose from the depths of his easy-chair. Her hat
+      lay on the table, her jacket was open, one of his cigarettes was between
+      her lips. But it was not Lucille.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lady Carey!&rdquo; he said slowly. &ldquo;This is an unexpected pleasure. Have you
+      brought Lucille with you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am afraid,&rdquo; she answered, &ldquo;that I have no ropes strong enough.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You insinuate,&rdquo; he remarked, &ldquo;that Lucille would be unwilling to come.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is no longer any need,&rdquo; she declared, with a hard little laugh,
+      &ldquo;for insinuations. We have all been turned out from Dorset House neck and
+      crop. Lucille has accepted the inevitable. She has gone to Reginald&rsquo;s
+      Brott&rsquo;s rooms.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Indeed. I have just come from Dorset House myself. The Duke has supplied
+      me with a highly entertaining account of his sudden awakening. The
+      situation must have been humorous.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her eyes twinkled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was really screamingly funny. The Duke had on his house of Lords
+      manner, and we all sat round like a lot of naughty children. If only you
+      had been there.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin smiled. Suddenly she laid her hand upon his arm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Victor,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;I have come to prove that I am your friend. You do
+      not believe that Lucille is with Reginald Brott. It is true! Not only
+      that, but she is leaving England with him to-night. The man&rsquo;s devotion is
+      irresistible&mdash;he has been gaining on her slowly but surely all the
+      time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have noticed,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin remarked calmly, &ldquo;that he has been wonderfully
+      assiduous. I am sure I congratulate him upon his success, if he has
+      succeeded.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You doubt my word of course,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;But I have not come here to tell
+      you things. I have come to prove them. I presume that what you see with
+      your own eyes will be sufficient.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly not,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;I make it a rule to believe nothing that I
+      see, and never to trust my ears.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She stamped her foot lightly upon the floor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How impossible you are,&rdquo; she exclaimed. &ldquo;I can tell you by what train
+      Lucille and Reginald Brott will leave London to-night. I can tell you why
+      Lucille is bound to go.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;you are beginning to get interesting.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lucille must go&mdash;or run the risk of arrest for complicity in the
+      murder of Duson.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you serious?&rdquo; Mr. Sabin asked, with admirably assumed gravity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is it a jesting matter?&rdquo; she answered fiercely. &ldquo;Lucille bought poison,
+      the same poison which it will be proved that Duson died of. She came here,
+      she was the last person to enter your room before Duson was found dead.
+      The police are even now searching for her. Escape is her only chance.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dear me,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said. &ldquo;Then it is not only for Brott&rsquo;s sake that she
+      is running away.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What does that matter? She is going, and she is going with him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And why,&rdquo; he asked, &ldquo;do you come to give me warning? I have plenty of
+      time to interpose.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You can try if you will. Lucille is in hiding. She will not see you if
+      you go to her. She is determined. Indeed, she has no choice. Lucille is a
+      brave woman in many ways, but you know that she fears death. She is in a
+      corner. She is forced to go.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Again,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I feel that I must ask you why do you give me warning?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She came and stood close to him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps,&rdquo; she said earnestly, &ldquo;I am anxious to earn your gratitude.
+      Perhaps, too, I know that no interposition of yours would be of any
+      avail.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Still,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I do not think that it is wise of you. I might appear
+      at the station and forcibly prevent Lucille&rsquo;s departure. After all, she is
+      my wife, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She shrugged her shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am not afraid,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;You will make inquiries when I have gone,
+      and you will find out that I have spoken the truth. If you keep Lucille in
+      England you will expose her to a terrible risk. It is not like you to be
+      selfish. You will yield to necessity.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will you tell me where Lucille is now?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For your own sake and hers, no,&rdquo; she answered. &ldquo;You also are watched.
+      Besides, it is too late. She was with Brott half an hour after the Duke
+      turned us out of Dorset House. Don&rsquo;t you understand, Victor&mdash;won&rsquo;t
+      you? It is too late.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He sat down heavily in his easy-chair. His whole appearance was one of
+      absolute dejection.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So I am to be left alone in my old age,&rdquo; he murmured. &ldquo;You have your
+      revenge now at last. You have come to take it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She sank on her knees by the side of his chair, and her arms fell upon his
+      shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How can you think so cruelly of me, Victor,&rdquo; she murmured. &ldquo;You were
+      always a little mistaken in Lucille. She loved you, it is true, but all
+      her life she has been fond of change and excitement. She came to Europe
+      willingly&mdash;long before this Brott would have been her slave save for
+      your reappearance. Can&rsquo;t you forget her&mdash;for a little while?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin sat quite still. Her hair brushed his cheeks, her arms were
+      about his neck, her whole attitude was an invitation for his embrace. But
+      he sat like a figure of stone, neither repulsing nor encouraging her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You need not be alone unless you like,&rdquo; she whispered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am an old man,&rdquo; he said slowly, &ldquo;and this is a hard blow for me to
+      bear. I must be sure, absolutely sure that she has gone.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By this time to-morrow,&rdquo; she murmured, &ldquo;all the world will know it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come to me then,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I shall need consolation.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her eyes were bright with triumph. She leaned over him and kissed him on
+      the lips. Then she sprang lightly to her feet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wait here for me,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;and I will come to you. You shall know,
+      Victor, that Lucille is not the only woman in the world who has cared for
+      you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a tap at the door. Lady Carey was busy adjusting her hat.
+      Passmore entered, and stood hesitating upon the threshold. Mr. Sabin had
+      risen to his feet. He took one of her hands and raised it to his lips. She
+      gave him a swift, wonderful look and passed out.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin&rsquo;s manner changed as though by magic. He was at once alert and
+      vigorous.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear Passmore,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;come to the table. We shall want those
+      Continental time-tables and the London A.B.C. You will have to take a
+      journey to-night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0038" id="link2HCH0038">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXXVIII
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The two women were alone in the morning-room of Lady Carey&rsquo;s house in Pont
+      Street. Lucille was walking restlessly up and down twisting her
+      handkerchief between her fingers. Lady Carey was watching her, more
+      composed, to all outward appearance, but with closely compressed lips, and
+      boding gleam in her eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think,&rdquo; Lady Carey said, &ldquo;that you had better see him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille turned almost fiercely upon her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And why?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, for one thing he will not understand your refusal. He may be
+      suspicious.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What does it matter? I have finished with him. I have done all that I
+      pledged myself to. What more can be expected of me? I do not wish to see
+      him again.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At least,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;I think that the poor man has a right to receive
+      his congé from you. You cannot break with him without a word of
+      explanation. Perhaps&mdash;you may not find it so easy as it seems.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille swept around.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you mean?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey shrugged her shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are in a curious mood, my dear Lucille. What I mean is obvious
+      enough. Brott is a strong man and a determined man. I do not think that he
+      will enjoy being made a fool of.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille was indifferent.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At any rate,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;I shall not see him. I have quite made up my
+      mind about that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And why not, Countess?&rdquo; a deep voice asked from the threshold. &ldquo;What have
+      I done? May I not at least know my fault?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey rose and moved towards the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You shall have it out between yourselves,&rdquo; she declared, looking up, and
+      nodding at Brott as she passed. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t fight!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Muriel!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The cry was imperative, but Lady Carey had gone. Mr. Brott closed the door
+      behind him and confronted Lucille. A brilliant spot of colour flared in
+      her pale cheeks.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But this is a trap!&rdquo; she exclaimed. &ldquo;Who sent for you? Why did you come?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He looked at her in surprise.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lucille!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      His eyes were full of passionate remonstrance. She looked nervously from
+      him towards the door. He intercepted her glance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What have I done?&rdquo; he asked fiercely. &ldquo;What have I failed to do? Why do
+      you look as though I had forced myself upon you? Haven&rsquo;t I the right?
+      Don&rsquo;t you wish to see me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In Brott&rsquo;s face and tone was all the passionate strenuousness of a great
+      crisis. Lucille felt suddenly helpless before the directness of his gaze,
+      his storm of questions. In all their former intercourse it had been she
+      who by virtue of her sex and his blind love for her had kept the upper
+      hand. And now the position was changed. All sorts of feeble explanations,
+      of appeals to him, occurred to her dimly, only to be rejected by reason of
+      their ridiculous inadequacy. She was silent-abjectly silent.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He came a little closer to her, and the strength of the man was manifest
+      in his intense self-restraint. His words were measured, his tone quiet.
+      Yet both somehow gave evidence of the smouldering fires beneath.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lucille,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I find you hard to understand to-day. You have made
+      me your slave, you came once more into my life at its most critical
+      moment, and for your sake I have betrayed a great trust. My conscience, my
+      faith, and although that counts for little, my political career, were in
+      the balance against my love for you. You know which conquered. At your
+      bidding I have made myself the jest of every man who buys the halfpenny
+      paper and calls himself a politician. My friends heap abuse upon me, my
+      enemies derision. I cannot hold my position in this new Cabinet. I had
+      gone too far for compromise. I wonder if you quite understand what has
+      happened?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I have heard too much,&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;Spare me the rest.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He continued as though he had not heard her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Men who have been my intimate associates for many years, and whose
+      friendship was dear to me, cross the road to avoid: meeting me, day by day
+      I am besieged with visitors and letters from the suffering people to whom
+      my word had been pledged, imploring me for some explanation, for one word
+      of denial. Life has become a hell for me, a pestilent, militant hell! Yet,
+      Lucille, unless you break faith with me I make no complaint. I am
+      content.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am very sorry,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I do not think that you have properly
+      understood me. I have never made you any promise.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      For a moment he lost control of himself. She shrank back at the blaze of
+      indignation, half scornful, half incredulous, which lit up his clear, grey
+      eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is a lie!&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;Between you and me it can be no question of
+      words. You were always very careful of your pledges, but there are limits
+      even to your caution&mdash;as to my forbearance. A woman does not ask a
+      man who is pleading to her for her love to give up everything else he
+      cares for in life without hope of reward. It is monstrous! I never sought
+      you under false pretenses. I never asked you for your friendship. I wanted
+      you. I told you so plainly. You won&rsquo;t deny that you gave me hope&mdash;encouraged
+      me? You can&rsquo;t even deny that I am within my rights if I claim now at this
+      instant the reward for my apostasy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her hands were suddenly locked in his. She felt herself being drawn into
+      his arms. With a desperate effort she avoided his embrace. He still held
+      her left wrist, and his face was dark with passion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let me go!&rdquo; she pleaded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not I!&rdquo; he answered, with an odd, choked little laugh. &ldquo;You belong to me.
+      I have paid the price. I, too, am amongst the long list of those poor
+      fools who have sold their gods and their honour for a woman&rsquo;s kiss. But I
+      will not be left wholly destitute. You shall pay me for what I have lost.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, you are mad!&rdquo; she answered. &ldquo;How could you have deceived yourself so?
+      Don&rsquo;t you know that my husband is in London?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The man who calls himself Mr. Sabin?&rdquo; he answered roughly. &ldquo;What has that
+      to do with it? You are living apart. Saxe Leinitzer and the Duchess have
+      both told me the history of your married life. Or is the whole thing a
+      monstrous lie?&rdquo; he cried, with a sudden dawning sense of the truth.
+      &ldquo;Nonsense! I won&rsquo;t believe it. Lucille! You&rsquo;re not afraid! I shall be good
+      to you. You don&rsquo;t doubt that. Sabin will divorce you of course. You won&rsquo;t
+      lose your friends. I&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a sudden loud tapping at the door. Brott dropped her wrist and
+      turned round with an exclamation of anger. To Lucille it was a Heaven-sent
+      interposition. The Prince entered, pale, and with signs of hurry and
+      disorder about his usually immaculate person.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are both here,&rdquo; he exclaimed. &ldquo;Good! Lucille, I must speak with you
+      urgently in five minutes. Brott, come this way with me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille sank into a chair with a little murmur of relief. The Prince led
+      Brott into another room, and closed the door carefully behind him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Brott,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;can I speak to you as a friend of Lucille&rsquo;s?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Brott, who distrusted the Prince, looked him steadily in the face. Saxe
+      Leinitzer&rsquo;s agitation was too apparent to be wholly assumed. He had all
+      the appearance of being a man desperately in earnest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have always considered myself one,&rdquo; Brott answered. &ldquo;I am beginning to
+      doubt, however, whether the Countess holds me in the same estimation.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You found her hysterical, unreasonable, overwrought!&rdquo; the Prince
+      exclaimed. &ldquo;That is so, eh?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince drew a long breath.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Brott,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I am forced to confide in you. Lucille is in terrible
+      danger. I am not sure that there is anybody who can effectually help her
+      but you. Are you prepared to make a great sacrifice for her sake&mdash;to
+      leave England at once, to take her to the uttermost part of the world?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Brott&rsquo;s eyes were suddenly bright. The Prince quailed before the
+      fierceness of his gaze.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She would not go!&rdquo; he exclaimed sharply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She will,&rdquo; the Prince answered. &ldquo;She must! Not only that, but you will
+      earn her eternal gratitude. Listen, I must tell you the predicament in
+      which we find ourselves. It places Lucille&rsquo;s life in your hands.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The exclamation came like a pistol shot. The Prince held up his hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do not interrupt. Let me speak. Every moment is very valuable. You heard
+      without doubt of the sudden death at the Carlton Hotel. It took place in
+      Mr. Sabin&rsquo;s sitting-room. The victim was Mr. Sabin&rsquo;s servant. The inquest
+      was this afternoon. The verdict was death from the effect of poison. The
+      police are hot upon the case. There was no evidence as to the person by
+      whom the poison was administered, but by a hideous combination of
+      circumstances one person before many hours have passed will be under the
+      surveillance of the police.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And that person?&rdquo; Brott asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince looked round and lowered his voice, although the room was
+      empty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lucille,&rdquo; he whispered hoarsely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Brott stepped backwards as though he were shot.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What damned folly!&rdquo; he exclaimed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is possible that you may not think so directly,&rdquo; Saxe Leinitzer
+      continued. &ldquo;The day it happened Lucille bought this same poison, and it is
+      a rare one, from a man who has absconded. An hour before this man was
+      found dead, she called at the hotel, left no name, but went upstairs to
+      Mr. Sabin&rsquo;s room, and was alone there for five minutes, The man died from
+      a single grain of poison which had been introduced into Mr. Sabin&rsquo;s
+      special liqueur glass, out of which he was accustomed to drink three or
+      four times a day. All these are absolute facts, which at any moment may be
+      discovered by the police. Added to that she is living apart from her
+      husband, and is known to be on bad terms with him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Brott as gripping the back of a chair. He was white to the lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You don&rsquo;t think,&rdquo; he cried hoarsely. &ldquo;You can&rsquo;t believe&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No&rdquo; the Prince answered quickly, &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t believe anything of the sort. I
+      will tell you as man to man that I believe she wished Mr. Sabin dead. You
+      yourself should know why. But no, I don&rsquo;t believe she went so far as that.
+      It was an accident. But what we have to do is to save her. Will you help?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She must cross to the Continent to-night before the police get on the
+      scent. Afterwards she must double back to Havre and take the Bordlaise for
+      New York on Saturday. Once there I can guarantee her protection.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She cannot go alone.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You mean that I should go with her?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes! Get her right away, and I will employ special detectives and have
+      the matter cleared up, if ever it can be. But if she remains here I fear
+      that nothing can save her from the horror of an arrest, even if afterwards
+      we are able to save her. You yourself risk much, Brott. The only question
+      that remains is, will you do it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At her bidding&mdash;yes!&rdquo; Brott declared.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wait here,&rdquo; the Prince answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0039" id="link2HCH0039">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXXIX
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Saxe Leinitzer returned to the morning-room, and taking the key from his
+      pocket unlocked the door. Inside Lucille was pale with fury.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What! I am a prisoner, then!&rdquo; she exclaimed. &ldquo;How dare you lock me in?
+      This is not your house. Let me pass! I am tired of all this stupid
+      espionage.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince stood with his back to the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is for your own sake, Lucille. The house is watched.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She sank into a low chair, trembling. The Prince had all the appearance of
+      a man himself seriously disturbed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lucille,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;we will do what we can for you. The whole thing is
+      horribly unfortunate. You must leave England to-night. Muriel will go with
+      you. Her presence will help to divert suspicion. Once you can reach Paris
+      I can assure you of safety. But in this country I am almost powerless.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I must see Victor,&rdquo; she said in a low tone. &ldquo;I will not go without.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have thought of that. There is no reason, Lucille, why he should not be
+      the one to lead you into safety.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You mean that?&rdquo; she cried.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I mean it,&rdquo; the Prince answered. &ldquo;After what has happened you are of
+      course of no further use to us. I am inclined to think, too, that we have
+      been somewhat exacting. I will send a messenger to Souspennier to meet you
+      at Charing Cross to-night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She sprang up.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let me write it myself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well,&rdquo; he agreed, with a shrug of the shoulders. &ldquo;But do not address
+      or sign it. There is danger in any communication between you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She took a sheet of note-paper and hastily wrote a few words.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have need of your help. Will you be at Charing Cross at twelve o&rsquo;clock
+      prepared for a journey.&mdash;Lucille.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince took the letter from her and hastily folded it up.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will deliver it myself,&rdquo; he announced. &ldquo;It will perhaps be safest.
+      Until I return, Lucille, do not stir from the house or see any one. Muriel
+      has given the servants orders to admit no one. All your life,&rdquo; he added,
+      after a moment&rsquo;s pause, &ldquo;you have been a little cruel to me, and this time
+      also. I shall pray that you will relent before our next meeting.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She rose to her feet and looked him full in the face. She seemed to be
+      following out her own train of thought rather than taking note of his
+      words.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Even now,&rdquo; she said thoughtfully, &ldquo;I am not sure that I can trust you. I
+      have a good mind to fight or scream my way out of this house, and go
+      myself to see Victor.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He shrugged his shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The fighting or the screaming will not be necessary, dear Countess,&rdquo; he
+      said. &ldquo;The doors are open to you. But it is as clear as day that if you go
+      to the hotel or near it you will at once be recognised, and recognition
+      means arrest. There is a limit beyond which one cannot help a wilful
+      woman. Take your life in your hands and go your own way, or trust in us
+      who are doing our best to save you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And what of Reginald Brott?&rdquo; she asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Brott?&rdquo; the Prince repeated impatiently. &ldquo;Who cares what becomes of him?
+      You have made him seem a fool, but, Lucille, to tell you the truth, I am
+      sorry that we did not leave this country altogether alone. There is not
+      the soil for intrigue here, or the possibility. Then, too, the police
+      service is too stolid, too inaccessible. And even our friends, for whose
+      aid we are here&mdash;well, you heard the Duke. The cast-iron Saxon idiocy
+      of the man. The aristocracy here are what they call bucolic. It is their
+      own fault. They have intermarried with parvenus and Americans for
+      generations. They are a race by themselves. We others may shake ourselves
+      free from them. I would work in any country of the globe for the good of
+      our cause, but never again in England.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille shivered a little.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am not in the humour for argument,&rdquo; she declared. &ldquo;If you would earn my
+      gratitude take that note to my husband. He is the only man I feel sure of&mdash;whom
+      I know can protect me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince bowed low.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is our farewell, Countess,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I cannot pretend,&rdquo; she answered, &ldquo;to regret it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Saxe Leinitzer left the room. There was a peculiar smile upon his lips as
+      he crossed the hall. Brott was still awaiting for him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Brott,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;the Countess is, as I feared, too agitated to see
+      you again for the present, or any one else. She sends you, however, this
+      message.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He took the folded paper from his waistcoat pocket and handed it to the
+      other man. Brott read it through eagerly. His eyes shone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She accepts the situation, then?&rdquo; he exclaimed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Precisely! Will you pardon me, my friend, if I venture upon one other
+      word. Lucille is not an ordinary woman. She is not in the least like the
+      majority of her sex, especially, I might add, amongst us. The fact that
+      her husband was living would seriously influence her consideration of any
+      other man&mdash;as her lover. The present crisis, however, has changed
+      everything. I do not think that you will have cause to complain of her
+      lack of gratitude.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Brott walked out into the streets with the half sheet of note-paper
+      twisted up between his fingers. For the first time for months he was
+      conscious of a distinct and vivid sense of happiness. The terrible period
+      of indecision was past. He knew now where he stood. Nor was his immediate
+      departure from England altogether unpleasant to him. His political career
+      was shattered&mdash;friends and enemies were alike cold to him. Such an
+      act of cowardice as his, such pitiful shrinking back at the last fateful
+      moment, was inexplicable and revolting. Even Letheringham was barely
+      civil. It was certain that his place in the Cabinet would be intolerable.
+      He yearned for escape from it all, and the means of escape were now at
+      hand. In after years he knew very well that the shadow of his broken
+      trust, the torture of his misused opportunities, would stand for ever
+      between him and the light. But at that moment he was able to clear his
+      mind of all such disquieting thoughts. He had won Lucille&mdash;never mind
+      at what cost, at what peril! He had won Lucille!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He was deeply engrossed, and his name was spoken twice in his ear before
+      he turned round. A small, somewhat shabby-looking man, with tired eyes and
+      more than a day&rsquo;s growth of beard upon his chin, had accosted him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Brott, sir. A word with you, please.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Brott held out his hand. Nevertheless his tone when he spoke lacked
+      heartiness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You, Hedley! Why, what brings you to London?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The little man did not seem to see the hand. At any rate he made no motion
+      to take it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A few minutes&rsquo; chat with Mr. Brott. That&rsquo;s what I&rsquo;ve come for.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Brott raised his eyebrows, and nodded in somewhat constrained fashion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I am on my way to my rooms. We can talk as we go, if you
+      like. I am afraid the good people up in your part of the world are not too
+      well pleased with me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The little man smiled rather queerly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is quite true,&rdquo; he answered calmly. &ldquo;They hate a liar and a
+      turn-coat. So do I!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Brott stopped short upon the pavement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you are going to talk like that to me, Hedley,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;the less you
+      have to say the better.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;What I have to say won&rsquo;t take me very long. But as
+      I&rsquo;ve tramped most of the way up here to say it, you&rsquo;ll have to listen here
+      or somewhere else. I thought you were always one who liked the truth.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So I do!&rdquo; Brott answered. &ldquo;Go on!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man shuffled along by his side. They were an odd-looking pair, for
+      Brott was rather a careful man as regards his toilet, and his companion
+      looked little better than a tramp.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All my life,&rdquo; he continued, &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve been called &lsquo;Mad Hedley,&rsquo; or &lsquo;Hedley,
+      the mad tailor.&rsquo; Sometimes one and sometimes the other. It don&rsquo;t matter
+      which. There&rsquo;s truth in, it. I am a bit mad. You, Mr. Brott, were one of
+      those who understood me a little. I have brooded a good deal perhaps, and
+      things have got muddled up in my brain. You know what has been at the
+      bottom of it all.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I began making speeches when I was a boy. People laughed at me, but I&rsquo;ve
+      set many a one a-thinking. I&rsquo;m no anarchist, although people call me one.
+      I&rsquo;ll admit that I admire the men who set the French Revolution going. If
+      such a thing happened in this country I&rsquo;d be one of the first to join in.
+      But I&rsquo;ve never had a taste for bloodshed. I&rsquo;d rather the thing had been
+      done without. From the first you seemed to be the man who might have
+      brought it about. We listened to you, we watched your career, and we began
+      to have hopes. Mr. Brott, the bodies and souls of millions of your
+      fellow-creatures were in the hollow of your hand. It was you who might
+      have set them free. It was you who might have made this the greatest, the
+      freest, the happiest country in the world. Not so much for us perhaps as
+      for our children, and our children&rsquo;s children. We didn&rsquo;t expect a huge
+      social upheaval in a week, or even a decade of years. But we did expect to
+      see the first blow struck. Oh, yes, we expected that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have disappointed you, I know, you and many others,&rdquo; Brott said
+      bitterly. &ldquo;I wish I could explain. But I can&rsquo;t!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, it doesn&rsquo;t matter,&rdquo; the man answered. &ldquo;You have broken the hearts of
+      thousands of suffering men and women&mdash;you who might have led them
+      into the light, have forged another bolt in the bars which stand between
+      them and liberty. So they must live on in the darkness, dull, dumb
+      creatures with just spirit enough to spit and curse at the sound of your
+      name. It was the greatest trust God ever placed in one man&rsquo;s hand&mdash;and
+      you&mdash;you abused it. They were afraid of you&mdash;the aristocrats,
+      and they bought you. Oh, we are not blind up there&mdash;there are
+      newspapers in our public houses, and now and then one can afford a
+      half-penny. We have read of you at their parties and their dances. Quite
+      one of them you have become, haven&rsquo;t you? But, Mr. Brott, have you never
+      been afraid? Have you never said to yourself, there is justice in the
+      earth? Suppose it finds me out?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hedley, you are talking rubbish,&rdquo; Brott said. &ldquo;Up here you would see
+      things with different eyes. Letheringham is pledged.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If any man ever earned hell,&rdquo; Hedley continued, &ldquo;it is you, Brott, you
+      who came to us a deliverer, and turned out to be a lying prophet. &lsquo;Hell,&rsquo;&rdquo;
+       he repeated fiercely, &ldquo;and may you find it swiftly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man&rsquo;s right hand came out of his long pocket. They were in the thick
+      of Piccadilly, but his action was too swift for any interference. Four
+      reports rang suddenly out, and the muzzle of the revolver was held
+      deliberately within an inch or so of Brett&rsquo;s heart. And before even the
+      nearest of the bystanders could realise what had happened Brott lay across
+      the pavement a dead man, and Hedley was calmly handing over the revolver
+      to a policeman who had sprang across the street.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Be careful, officer,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;there are still two chambers loaded. I
+      will come with you quite quietly. That is Mr. Reginald Brott, the Cabinet
+      Minister, and I have killed him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0040" id="link2HCH0040">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XL
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For once,&rdquo; Lady Carey said, with a faint smile, &ldquo;your &lsquo;admirable
+      Crichton&rsquo; has failed you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille opened her eyes. She had been leaning back amongst the railway
+      cushions.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think not,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Only I blame myself that I ever trusted the
+      Prince even so far as to give him that message. For I know very well that
+      if Victor had received it he would have been here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey took up a great pile of papers and looked them carelessly
+      through.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am afraid,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;that I do not agree with you. I do not think
+      that Saxe Leinitzer had any desire except to see you safely away. I
+      believe that he will be quite as disappointed as you are that your husband
+      is not here to aid you. Some one must see you safely on the steamer at
+      Havre. Perhaps he will come himself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shall wait in Paris,&rdquo; Lucille said quietly, &ldquo;for my husband.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You may wait,&rdquo; Lady Carey said, &ldquo;for a very long time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille looked at her steadily. &ldquo;What do you mean?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What a fool you are, Lucille. If to other people it seems almost certain
+      on the face of it that you were responsible for that drop of poison in
+      your husband&rsquo;s liqueur glass, why should it not seem so to himself?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille laughed, but there was a look of horror in her dark eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How absurd. I know Victor better than to believe him capable of such a
+      suspicion. Just as he knows me better than to believe me capable of such
+      an act.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Really. But you were in his rooms secretly just before.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I went to leave some roses for him,&rdquo; Lucille answered. &ldquo;And if you would
+      like to know it, I will tell you this. I left my card tied to them with a
+      message for him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey yawned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A remarkably foolish thing to do,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;That may cause you trouble
+      later on. Great heavens, what is this?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She held the evening paper open in her hand. Lucille leaned over with
+      blanched face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What has happened?&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;Tell me, can&rsquo;t you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Reginald Brott has been shot in Piccadilly,&rdquo; Lady Carey said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is he hurt?&rdquo; Lucille asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is dead!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They read the brief announcement together. The deed had been committed by
+      a man whose reputation for sanity had long been questioned, one of Brott&rsquo;s
+      own constituents. He was in custody, and freely admitted his guilt. The
+      two women looked at one another in horror. Even Lady Carey was affected.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What a hateful thing,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I am glad that we had no hand in it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you so sure that we hadn&rsquo;t?&rdquo; Lucille asked bitterly. &ldquo;You see what it
+      says. The man killed him because of his political apostasy. We had
+      something to do with that at least.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey was recovering her sang froid.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, well,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;indirect influences scarcely count, or one might
+      trace the causes of everything which happens back to an absurd extent. If
+      this man was mad he might just as well have shot Brott for anything.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille made no answer. She leaned back and closed her eyes. She did not
+      speak again till they reached Dover.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They embarked in the drizzling rain. Lady Carey drew a little breath of
+      relief as they reached their cabin, and felt the boat move beneath them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank goodness that we are really off. I have been horribly nervous all
+      the time. If they let you leave England they can have no suspicion as
+      yet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille was putting on an ulster and cap to go out on deck.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am not at all sure,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;that I shall not return to England. At
+      any rate, if Victor does not come to me in Paris I shall go to him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What beautiful trust!&rdquo; Lady Carey answered. &ldquo;My dear Lucille, you are
+      more like a school-girl than a woman of the world.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A steward entered with a telegram for Lucille. It was banded in at the
+      Haymarket, an hour before their departure. Lucille read it, and her face
+      blanched. &ldquo;I thank you for your invitation, but I fear that it would not
+      be good for my health.&mdash;S.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey looked over her shoulder. She laughed hardly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How brutal!&rdquo; she murmured. &ldquo;But, then, Victor can be brutal sometimes,
+      can&rsquo;t he?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille tore it into small pieces without a word. Lady Carey waited for a
+      remark from her in vain.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I, too,&rdquo; she said at last, &ldquo;have had some telegrams. I have been
+      hesitating whether to show them to you or not. Perhaps you had better see
+      them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She produced them and spread them out. The first was dated about the same
+      time as the one Lucille had received.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have seen S. with message from Lucille. Fear quite useless, as he
+      believes worst.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The second was a little longer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have just heard S. has left for Liverpool, and has engaged berth in
+      Campania, sailing to-morrow. Break news to Lucille if you think well. Have
+      wired him begging return, and promising full explanation.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If these,&rdquo; Lucille said calmly, &ldquo;belonged to me I should treat them as I
+      have my own.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you mean?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I should tear them up.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey shrugged her shoulders with the air of one who finds further
+      argument hopeless.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shall have no more to say to you, Lucille, on this subject,&rdquo; she said.
+      &ldquo;You are impossible. In a few days you will be forced to come round to my
+      point of view. I will wait till then. And in the meantime, if you think I
+      am going to tramp up and down those sloppy decks and gaze at the sea you
+      are very much mistaken. I am going to lie down like a civilized being, and
+      try and get a nap. You had better do the same.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For my part,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;I find any part of the steamer except the deck
+      intolerable. I am going now in search of some fresh air. Shall I send your
+      woman along?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey nodded, for just then the steamer gave a violent lurch, and she
+      was not feeling talkative. Lucille went outside and walked up and down
+      until the lights of Calais were in sight. All the time she felt conscious
+      of the observation of a small man clad in a huge mackintosh, whose peaked
+      cap completely obscured his features. As they were entering the harbour
+      she purposely stood by his side. He held on to the rail with one hand and
+      turned towards her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It has been quite a rough passage, has it not?&rdquo; he remarked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have crossed,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;when it has been much worse. I do not mind so
+      long as one may come on deck.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your friend,&rdquo; he remarked, &ldquo;is perhaps not so good a sailor?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I believe,&rdquo; Lucille said, &ldquo;that she suffers a great deal. I just looked
+      in at her, and she was certainly uncomfortable.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The little man gripped the rail and held on to his cap with the other
+      hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are going to Paris?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They were in smoother water now. He was able to relax his grip of the
+      rail. He turned towards Lucille, and she saw him for the first time
+      distinctly&mdash;a thin, wizened-up little man, with shrewd kindly eyes,
+      and a long deeply cut mouth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I trust,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;that you will not think me impertinent, but it
+      occurred to me that you have noticed some apparent interest of mine in
+      your movements since you arrived on the boat.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is true,&rdquo; she answered. &ldquo;That is why I came and stood by your side.
+      What do you want with me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing, madam,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;I am here altogether in your interests. If
+      you should want help I shall be somewhere near you for the next few hours.
+      Do not hesitate to appeal to me. My mission here is to be your protector
+      should you need one.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille&rsquo;s eyes grew bright, and her heart beat quickly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tell me,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;who sent you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think that you know,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;One who I can assure you will never
+      allow you to suffer any harm. I have exceeded my instructions in speaking
+      to you, but I fancied that you were looking worried. You need not. I can
+      assure you that you need have no cause.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her eyes filled with tears.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I knew,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;that those telegrams were forgeries.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He looked carefully around.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know nothing about any telegrams,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;but I am here to see that
+      no harm comes to you, and I promise you that it shall not. Your friend is
+      looking out of the cabin door. I think we may congratulate ourselves,
+      madam, on an excellent passage.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey disembarked, a complete wreck, leaning on the arm of her maid,
+      and with a bottle of smelling salts clutched in her hand. She slept all
+      the way in the train, and only woke up when they were nearing Paris. She
+      looked at Lucille in astonishment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, what on earth have you been doing to yourself?&rdquo; she exclaimed. &ldquo;You
+      look disgustingly fit and well.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille laughed softly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why not? I have had a nap, and we are almost at Paris. I only want a bath
+      and a change of clothes to feel perfectly fresh.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But Lady Carey was suspicious.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have you seen any one you know upon the train?&rdquo; she asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille shook her head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not a soul. A little man whom I spoke to on the steamer brought me some
+      coffee. That is all.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey yawned and shook out her skirts. &ldquo;I suppose I&rsquo;m getting old,&rdquo;
+       she said. &ldquo;I couldn&rsquo;t look as you do with as much on my mind as you must
+      have, and after traveling all night too.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;After all,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;you know that I am a professional optimist, and I
+      have faith in my luck. I have been thinking matters over calmly, and, to
+      tell you the truth, I am not in the least alarmed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey looked at her curiously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Has the optimism been imbibed,&rdquo; she asked, &ldquo;or is it spontaneous?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Unless the little man in the plaid mackintosh poured it into the coffee
+      with the milk,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;I could not possibly have imbibed it, for I
+      haven&rsquo;t spoken to another soul since we left.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Paris! Here we are, thank goodness. Celeste can see the things through
+      the customs. She is quite used to it. We are going to the Ritz, I
+      suppose!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0041" id="link2HCH0041">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XLI
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      At eight o&rsquo;clock in the evening Lucille knocked at the door of Lady
+      Carey&rsquo;s suite of rooms at the hotel. There was no answer. A chambermaid
+      who was near came smiling up.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Miladi has, I think, descended for dinner,&rdquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille looked at her watch. She saw that she was a few minutes late, so
+      she descended to the restaurant. The small table which they had reserved
+      was, however, still unoccupied. Lucille told the waiter that she would
+      wait for a few moments, and sent for an English newspaper.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey did not appear. A quarter of an hour passed. The head waiter
+      came up with a benign smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madam will please to be served?&rdquo; he suggested, with a bow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am waiting for my friend Lady Carey,&rdquo; Lucille answered. &ldquo;I understood
+      that she had come down. Perhaps you will send and see if she is in the
+      reading-room.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;With much pleasure, madam,&rdquo; the man answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In a few minutes he returned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madam&rsquo;s friend was the Lady Carey?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The man was gently troubled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, Miladi Carey,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;has left more than an hour ago.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille looked up, astonished.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Left the hotel?&rdquo; she exclaimed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But yes, madam,&rdquo; he exclaimed. &ldquo;Miladi Carey left to catch the boat train
+      at Calais for England.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is impossible,&rdquo; Lucille answered. &ldquo;We only arrived at midday.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will inquire again,&rdquo; the man declared. &ldquo;But it was in the office that
+      they told me so.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They told you quite correctly,&rdquo; said a familiar voice. &ldquo;I have come to
+      take her place. Countess, I trust that in me you will recognise an
+      efficient substitute.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It was the Prince of Saxe Leinitzer who was calmly seating himself
+      opposite to her. The waiter, with the discretion of his class, withdrew
+      for a few paces and stood awaiting orders. Lucille looked across at him in
+      amazement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You here?&rdquo; she exclaimed, &ldquo;and Muriel gone? What does this mean?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince leaned forward.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It means,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;that after you left I was in torment. I felt that
+      you had no one with you who could be of assistance supposing the worst
+      happened. Muriel is all very well, but she is a woman, and she has no
+      diplomacy, no resource. I felt, Lucille, that I should not be happy unless
+      I myself saw you into safety.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So you followed us here,&rdquo; Lucille remarked quietly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Exactly! You do not blame me. It was for your sake&mdash;as well as my
+      own.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And Muriel&mdash;why has she left me without farewell&mdash;without
+      warning of any sort?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince smiled and stroked his fair moustache.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;it is rather an awkward thing for me to explain, but to
+      tell you the truth, Muriel was a little&mdash;more than a little&mdash;annoyed
+      at my coming. She has no right to be, but&mdash;well, you know, she is
+      what you call a monopolist. She and I have been friends for many years.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I understand perfectly what you have wished to convey,&rdquo; Lucille said.
+      &ldquo;But what I do not understand are the exact reasons which brought you
+      here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince took up the carte de jour.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As we dine,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I will tell you. You will permit me to order?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille rose to her feet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For yourself, certainly,&rdquo; she answered. &ldquo;As for me, I have accepted no
+      invitation to dine with you, nor do I propose to do so.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince frowned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Be reasonable, Lucille,&rdquo; he pleaded. &ldquo;I must talk with you. There are
+      important plans to be made. I have a great deal to say to you. Sit down.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille looked across at him with a curious smile upon her lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have a good deal to say to me?&rdquo; she remarked. &ldquo;Yes, I will believe
+      that. But of the truth how much, I wonder?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By and bye,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;you will judge me differently. For hors d&rsquo;oeuvres
+      what do you say to oeufs de pluvier? Then&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pardon me,&rdquo; she interrupted, &ldquo;I am not interested in your dinner!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In our dinner,&rdquo; he ventured gently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am not dining with you,&rdquo; she declared firmly. &ldquo;If you insist upon
+      remaining here I shall have something served in my room. You know quite
+      well that we are certain to be recognised. One would imagine that this was
+      a deliberate attempt on your part to compromise me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lucille,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;do not be foolish! Why do you persist in treating me
+      as though I were your persecutor?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because you are,&rdquo; she said coolly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is ridiculous,&rdquo; he declared. &ldquo;You are in the most serious danger, and
+      I have come only to save you. I can do it, and I will. But listen&mdash;not
+      unless you change your demeanour towards me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She laughed scornfully. She had risen to her feet now, and he was perforce
+      compelled to follow her example.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is that a challenge?&rdquo; she asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You may take it as such if you will,&rdquo; he answered, with a note of
+      sullenness in his tone. &ldquo;You know very well that I have but to lift my
+      finger and the gendarmes will be here. Yes, we will call it a challenge.
+      All my life I have wanted you. Now I think that my time has come. Even
+      Souspennier has deserted you. You are alone, and let me tell you that
+      danger is closer at your heels than you know of. I can save you, and I
+      will. But I have a price, and it must be paid.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If I refuse?&rdquo; she asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I send for the chief of the police.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She looked him up and down, a measured, merciless survey. He was a tall,
+      big man, but he seemed to shrink into insignificance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are a coward and a bully,&rdquo; she said slowly. &ldquo;You know quite well that
+      I am innocent of any knowledge even concerning Duson&rsquo;s death. But I would
+      sooner meet my fate, whatever it might be, than suffer even the touch of
+      your fingers upon my hand. Your presence is hateful to me. Send for your
+      chief of the police. String your lies together as you will. I am
+      satisfied.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She left him and swept from the room, a spot of colour burning in her
+      cheeks, her eyes lit with fire. The pride of her race had asserted itself.
+      She felt no longer any fear. She only desired to sever herself at once and
+      completely from all association with this man. In the hall she sent for
+      her maid.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Fetch my cloak and jewel case, Celeste,&rdquo; she ordered. &ldquo;I am going across
+      to the Bristol. You can return for the other luggage.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, madam&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do as I say at once,&rdquo; Lucille ordered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The girl hesitated and then obeyed. Lucille found herself suddenly
+      addressed in a quiet tone by a man who had been sitting in an easy-chair,
+      half hidden by a palm tree.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will you favour me, madam, with a moment&rsquo;s conversation?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille turned round. She recognised at once the man with whom she had
+      conversed upon the steamer. In the quietest form of evening dress, there
+      was something noticeable in the man&rsquo;s very insignificance. He seemed a
+      little out of his element. Lucille had a sudden inspiration, The man was a
+      detective.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you wish to say?&rdquo; she asked, half doubtfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I overheard,&rdquo; he remarked, &ldquo;your order to your maid. She had something to
+      say to you, but you gave her no opportunity.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you?&rdquo; she asked, &ldquo;what do you wish to say?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wish to advise you,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;not to leave the hotel.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She looked at him doubtfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You cannot understand,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;why I wish to leave it. I have no
+      alternative.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nevertheless,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I hope that you will change your mind.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you a detective?&rdquo; she asked abruptly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madam is correct!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The flush of colour faded from her cheeks.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I presume, then,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;that I am under your surveillance?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In a sense,&rdquo; he admitted, &ldquo;it is true.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;On the steamer,&rdquo; she remarked, &ldquo;you spoke as though your interest in me
+      was not inimical.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nor is it,&rdquo; he answered promptly. &ldquo;You are in a difficult position, but
+      you may find things not so bad as you imagine. At present my advice to you
+      is this: Go upstairs to your room and stay there.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The little man had a compelling manner. Lucille made her way towards the
+      elevator.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As a matter of fact,&rdquo; she murmured bitterly, &ldquo;I am not, I suppose,
+      permitted to leave the hotel?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madam puts the matter bluntly,&rdquo; he answered; &ldquo;but certainly if you should
+      insist upon leaving, it would be my duty to follow you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She turned away from him and entered the elevator. The door of her room
+      was slightly ajar, and she saw that a waiter was busy at a small round
+      table. She looked at him in surprise. He was arranging places for two.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who gave you your orders?&rdquo; she asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But it was monsieur,&rdquo; the man answered, with a low bow. &ldquo;Dinner for two.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur?&rdquo; she repeated. &ldquo;What monsieur?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am the culprit,&rdquo; a familiar voice answered from the depths of an
+      easy-chair, whose back was to her. &ldquo;I was very hungry, and it occurred to
+      me that under the circumstances you would probably not have dined either.
+      I hope that you will like what I have ordered. The plovers&rsquo; eggs look
+      delicious.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She gave a little cry of joy. It was Mr. Sabin.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0042" id="link2HCH0042">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XLII
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The Prince dined carefully, but with less than his usual appetite.
+      Afterwards he lit a cigarette and strolled for a moment into the lounge.
+      Celeste, who was waiting for him, glided at once to his side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur!&rdquo; she whispered. &ldquo;I have been here for one hour.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur le Duc has arrived.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince turned sharply round.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur le Duc de Souspennier. He calls himself no longer Mr. Sabin.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A dull flush of angry colour rose almost to his temples.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why did you not tell me before?&rdquo; he exclaimed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur was in the restaurant,&rdquo; she answered. &ldquo;It was impossible for me
+      to do anything but wait.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where is he?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Alas! he is with madam,&rdquo; the girl answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince was very profane. He started at once for the elevator. In a
+      moment or two he presented himself at Lucille&rsquo;s sitting-room. They were
+      still lingering over their dinner. Mr. Sabin welcomed him with grave
+      courtesy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Prince is in time to take his liqueur with us,&rdquo; he remarked, rising.
+      &ldquo;Will you take fin champagne, Prince, or Chartreuse? I recommend the fin
+      champagne.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince bowed his thanks. He was white to the lips with the effort for
+      self-mastery.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I congratulate you, Mr. Sabin,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;upon your opportune arrival.
+      You will be able to help Lucille through the annoyance to which I deeply
+      regret that she should be subjected.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin gently raised his eyebrows.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Annoyance!&rdquo; he repeated. &ldquo;I fear that I do not quite understand.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Surely Lucille has told you,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;of the perilous position in which
+      she finds herself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My wife,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;has told me nothing. You alarm me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince shrugged his shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I deeply regret to tell you,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;that the law has proved too
+      powerful for me. I can no longer stand between her and what I fear may
+      prove a most unpleasant episode. Lucille will be arrested within the
+      hour.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Upon what charge?&rdquo; Mr. Sabin asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The murder of Duson.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin laughed very softly, very gently, but with obvious genuineness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are joking, Prince,&rdquo; he exclaimed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I regret to say,&rdquo; the Prince answered, &ldquo;that you will find it very far
+      from a joking matter.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin was suddenly stern.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Prince of Saxe Leinitzer,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;you are a coward and a bully.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince started forward with clenched fist. Mr. Sabin had no weapon,
+      but he did not flinch.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You can frighten women,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;with a bogie such as this, but you
+      have no longer a woman to deal with. You and I know that such a charge is
+      absurd&mdash;but you little know the danger to which you expose yourself
+      by trifling with this subject. Duson left a letter addressed to me in
+      which he announced his reasons for committing suicide.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Suicide?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. He preferred suicide to murder, even at the bidding of the Prince of
+      Saxe Leinitzer. He wrote and explained these things to me&mdash;and the
+      letter is in safe hands. The arrest of Lucille, my dear Prince, would mean
+      the ruin of your amiable society.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This letter,&rdquo; the Prince said slowly, &ldquo;why was it not produced at the
+      inquest? Where is it now?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is deposited in a sealed packet with the Earl of Deringham,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin
+      answered. &ldquo;As to producing it at the inquest&mdash;I thought it more
+      discreet not to. I leave you to judge of my reasons. But I can assure you
+      that your fears for my wife&rsquo;s safety have been wholly misplaced. There is
+      not the slightest reason for her to hurry off to America. We may take a
+      little trip there presently, but not just yet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince made a mistake. He lost his temper.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You!&rdquo; he cried, &ldquo;you can go to America when you like, and stay there.
+      Europe has had enough of you with your hare-brained schemes and foolish
+      failures. But Lucille does not leave this country. We have need of her. I
+      forbid her to leave. Do you hear? In the name of the Order I command her
+      to remain here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin was quite calm, but his face was full of terrible things.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Prince,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;if I by any chance numbered myself amongst your
+      friends I would warn you that you yourself are a traitor to your Order.
+      You prostitute a great cause when you stoop to use its machinery to assist
+      your own private vengeance. I ask you for your own sake to consider your
+      words. Lucille is mine&mdash;mine she will remain, even though you should
+      descend to something more despicable, more cowardly than ordinary treason,
+      to wrest her from me. You reproach me with the failures of my life. Great
+      they may have been, but if you attempt this you will find that I am not
+      yet an impotent person.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince was white with rage. The sight of Lucille standing by Mr.
+      Sabin&rsquo;s side, her hand lightly resting upon his, her dark eyes full of
+      inscrutable tenderness, maddened him. He was flouted and ignored. He was
+      carried away by a storm of passion. He tore a sheet of paper from his
+      pocket book, and unlocking a small gold case at the end of his watch
+      chain, shook from it a pencil with yellow crayon. Mr. Sabin leaned over
+      towards him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You sign it at your peril, Prince,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;It will mean worse things
+      than that for you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      For a second he hesitated. Lucille also leaned towards him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Prince,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;have I not kept my vows faithfully? Think! I came
+      from America at a moment&rsquo;s notice; I left my husband without even a word
+      of farewell; I entered upon a hateful task, and though to think of it now
+      makes me loathe myself&mdash;I succeeded. I have kept my vows, I have done
+      my duty. Be generous now, and let me go.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The sound of her voice maddened him. A passionate, arbitrary man, to whom
+      nothing in life had been denied, to be baulked in this great desire of his
+      latter days was intolerable. He made no answer to either of them. He wrote
+      a few lines with the yellow crayon and passed them silently across to
+      Lucille.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Her face blanched. She stretched out an unwilling hand. But Mr. Sabin
+      intervened. He took the paper from the Prince&rsquo;s hand, and calmly tore it
+      into fragments. There was a moment&rsquo;s breathless silence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Victor!&rdquo; Lucille cried. &ldquo;Oh, what have you done!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince&rsquo;s face lightened with an evil joy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We now, I think,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;understand one another. You will permit me to
+      wish you a very pleasant evening, and a speedy leave-taking.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Many thanks, my dear Prince,&rdquo; he said lightly. &ldquo;Make haste and complete
+      your charming little arrangements. Let me beg of you to avoid bungling
+      this time. Remember that there is not in the whole of Europe to-day a man
+      more dangerous to you than I.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince had departed. Mr. Sabin lit a cigarette and stood on the
+      hearthrug. His eyes were bright with the joy of fighting.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lucille,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I see that you have not touched your liqueur. Oblige
+      me by drinking it. You will find it excellent.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She came over to him and hung upon his arm. He threw his cigarette away
+      and kissed her upon the lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Victor,&rdquo; she murmured, &ldquo;I am afraid. You have been rash!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dearest,&rdquo; he answered, &ldquo;it is better to die fighting than to stand aside
+      and watch evil things. But after all, there is no fear. Come! Your cloak
+      and dressing case!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have plans?&rdquo; she exclaimed, springing up.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Plans?&rdquo; He laughed at her a little reproachfully. &ldquo;My dear Lucille! A
+      carriage awaits us outside, a special train with steam up at the Gard de
+      L&rsquo;ouest. This is precisely the contingency for which I have planned.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, you are wonderful, Victor,&rdquo; she murmured as she drew on her coat.
+      &ldquo;But what corner of the earth is there where we should be safe?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am going,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;to try and make every corner of the earth
+      safe.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She was bewildered, but he only laughed and held open the door for her.
+      Mr. Sabin made no secret of his departure. He lingered for a moment in the
+      doorway to light a cigarette, he even stopped to whisper a few words to
+      the little man in plain dinner clothes who was lounging in the doorway.
+      But when they had once left the hotel they drove fast.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In less than half an hour Paris was behind them. They were traveling in a
+      royal saloon and at a fabuulous cost, for in France they are not fond of
+      special trains. But Mr. Sabin was very happy. At least he had escaped an
+      ignominious defeat. It was left to him to play the great card.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And now,&rdquo; Lucille said, coming out from her little bed-chamber which the
+      femme de chambre was busy preparing, &ldquo;suppose you tell me where we are
+      going.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do not be alarmed,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;even though it will sound to you the least
+      likely place in the world. We are going to Berlin.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0043" id="link2HCH0043">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XLIII
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The great room was dimly enough lit, for the windows looking out upon the
+      street were high and heavily curtained, The man who sat at the desk was
+      almost in the shadow. Yet every now and then a shaft of sunlight fell
+      across his pale, worn face. A strange combination this of the worker, the
+      idealist, the man of affairs. From outside came the hum of a great city.
+      At times, too, there came to his ears as he sat here the roar of nations
+      at strife, the fierce underneath battle of the great countries of the
+      world struggling for supremacy. And here at this cabinet this man sat
+      often, and listened, strenuous, romantic, with the heart of a lion and the
+      lofty imagination of an eagle, he steered unswervingly on to her destiny a
+      great people. Others might rest, but never he.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He looked up from the letter spread out before him. Lucille was seated at
+      his command, a few yards away. Mr. Sabin stood respectfully before him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur le Duc,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;this letter, penned by my illustrious father
+      to you, is sufficient to secure my good offices. In what manner can I
+      serve you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your Majesty,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered, &ldquo;in the first place by receiving me
+      here. In the second by allowing me to lay before you certain grave and
+      very serious charges against the Order of the Yellow Crayon, of which your
+      Majesty is the titular head.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Order of the Yellow Crayon,&rdquo; the Emperor said thoughtfully, &ldquo;is
+      society composed of aristocrats pledged to resist the march of socialism.
+      It is true that I am the titular head of this organisation. What have you
+      to say about it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Only that your Majesty has been wholly deceived,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said
+      respectfully, &ldquo;concerning the methods and the working of this society. Its
+      inception and inauguration were above reproach. I myself at once became a
+      member. My wife, Countess of Radantz, and sole representative of that
+      ancient family, has been one all her life.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Emperor inclined his head towards Lucille.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I see no reason,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;when our capitals are riddled with secret
+      societies, all banded together against us, why the great families of
+      Europe should not in their turn come together and display a united front
+      against this common enemy. The Order of the Yellow Crayon has had more
+      than my support. It has had the sanction of my name. Tell me what you have
+      against it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have grave things to say concerning it,&rdquo; Mr. Sahin answered, &ldquo;and
+      concerning those who have wilfully deceived your Majesty. The influences
+      to be wielded by the society were mainly, I believe, wealth, education,
+      and influence. There was no mention made of murder, of an underground
+      alliance with the &lsquo;gamins&rsquo; of Paris, the dregs of humanity, prisoners, men
+      skilled in the art of secret death.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Emperor&rsquo;s tone was stern, almost harsh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Duc de Souspennier, what are these things which you are saying?&rdquo; he
+      asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your Majesty, I speak the truth,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered firmly. &ldquo;There are
+      in the Order of the Yellow Crayon three degrees of membership. The first,
+      which alone your Majesty knows of, simply corresponds with what in England
+      is known as the Primrose League. The second knows that beneath is another
+      organisation pledged to frustrate the advance of socialism, if necessary
+      by the use of their own weapons. The third, whose meetings and signs and
+      whose whole organisation is carried on secretly, is allied in every
+      capital in Europe with criminals and murderers. With its great wealth it
+      has influence in America as well as in every city of the world where there
+      are police to be suborned, or desperate men to be bought for tools. At the
+      direction of this third order Lavinski died suddenly in the Hungarian
+      House of Parliament, Herr Krettingen was involved in a duel, the result of
+      which was assured beforehand, and Reginald Brott, the great English
+      statesman, was ruined and disgraced. I myself have just narrowly escaped
+      death at his hands, and in my place my servant has been driven to death.
+      Of all these things, your Majesty, I have brought proofs.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Emperor&rsquo;s face was like a carven image, but his tone was cold and
+      terrible.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If these things have been sanctioned,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;by those who are
+      responsible for my having become the head of the Order; they shall feel my
+      vengeance.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your Majesty,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said earnestly, &ldquo;a chance disclosure, and all
+      might come to light. I myself could blazon the story through Europe. Those
+      who are responsible for the third degree of the Order of the Yellow
+      Crayon, and for your Majesty&rsquo;s ignorance concerning its existence, have
+      trifled with the destiny of the greatest sovereign of modern times.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Prince of Saxe Leinitzer,&rdquo; the Emperor said, &ldquo;is the acting head of
+      the Order.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Prince of Saxe Leinitzer,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said firmly, &ldquo;is responsible for
+      the existence of the third degree. It is he who has connected the society
+      with a system of corrupt police or desperate criminals in every great
+      city. It is the Prince of Saxe Leinitzer, your Majesty, and his horde of
+      murderers from whom I have come to seek your Majesty&rsquo;s protection. I have
+      yet another charge to make against him. He has made, and is making still,
+      use of the society to further his own private intrigues. In the name of
+      the Order he brought my wife from America. She faithfully carried out the
+      instructions of the Council. She brought about the ruin of Reginald Brott.
+      By the rules of the society she was free then to return to her home. The
+      Prince, who had been her suitor, declined to let her go. My life was
+      attempted. The story of the Prince&rsquo;s treason is here, with the necessary
+      proofs. I know that orders have been given to the hired murderers of the
+      society for my assassination. My life even here is probably an uncertain
+      thing. But I have told your Majesty the truth, and the papers which I have
+      brought with me contain proof of my words.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Emperor struck a bell and gave a few orders to the young officer who
+      immediately answered it. Then he turned again to Mr. Sabin.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have summoned Saxe Leinitzer to Berlin,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;These matters shall
+      be gone into most thoroughly. In the meantime what can I do for you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We will await the coming of the Prince,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered grimly.
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey passed from her bath-room into a luxurious little
+      dressing-room. Her letters and coffee were on a small table near the fire,
+      an easy-chair was drawn up to the hearthrug. She fastened the girdle of
+      her dressing-gown, and dismissed her maid.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will ring for you in half an hour, Annette,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;See that I am
+      not disturbed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      On her way to the fireplace she paused for a moment in front of a tall
+      looking-glass, and looked steadily at her own reflection.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I suppose,&rdquo; she murmured to herself, &ldquo;that I am looking at my best now. I
+      slept well last night, and a bath gives one colour, and white is so
+      becoming. Still, I don&rsquo;t know why I failed. She may be a little better
+      looking, but my figure is as good. I can talk better, I have learnt how to
+      keep a man from feeling dull, and there is my reputation. Because I played
+      at war correspondence, wore a man&rsquo;s clothes, and didn&rsquo;t shriek when I was
+      under fire, people have chosen to make a heroine of me. That should have
+      counted for something with him&mdash;and it didn&rsquo;t. I could have taken my
+      choice of any man in London&mdash;and I wanted him. And I have failed!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She threw herself back in her easy-chair and laughed softly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Failed! What an ugly word! He is old, and he limps, and I&mdash;well, I
+      was never a very bashful person. He was beautifully polite, but he
+      wouldn&rsquo;t have anything to say to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She began to tear open her letters savagely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, it is over. If ever anybody speaks to me about it I think that I
+      shall kill them. That fool Saxe Leinitzer will stroke his beastly
+      moustache, and smile at me out of the corners of his eyes. The Dorset
+      woman, too&mdash;bah, I shall go away. What is it, Annette?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;His Highness the Prince of Saxe Leinitzer has called, milady.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Called! Does he regard this as a call?&rdquo; she exclaimed, glancing towards
+      the clock. &ldquo;Tell him, Annette, that your mistress does not receive at such
+      an hour. Be quick, child. Of course I know that he gave you a sovereign to
+      persuade me that it was important, but I won&rsquo;t see him, so be off.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But yes, milady,&rdquo; Annette answered, and disappeared.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey sipped her coffee.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think,&rdquo; she said reflectively, &ldquo;that it must be Melton.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Annette reappeared.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Milady,&rdquo; she exclaimed, &ldquo;His Highness insisted upon my bringing you this
+      card. He was so strange in his manner, milady, that I thought it best to
+      obey.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey stretched out her hand. A few words were scribbled on the back
+      of his visiting card in yellow crayon. She glanced at it, tore the card
+      up, and threw the pieces into the fire.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My shoes and stockings, Annette,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;and just a morning wrap&mdash;anything
+      will do.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince was walking restlessly up and down the room, when Lady Carey
+      entered. He welcomed her with a little cry of relief.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Heavens!&rdquo; he exclaimed. &ldquo;I thought that you were never coming.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was in no hurry,&rdquo; she answered calmly. &ldquo;I could guess your news, so I
+      had not even the spur of curiosity.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He stopped short.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have heard nothing! It is not possible?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She shrugged her shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, but I know you, and I know him. I am quite prepared to hear that you
+      are outwitted. Indeed, to judge from your appearance there can be no doubt
+      about it. Remember I warned you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince was pale with fury.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No one could foresee this,&rdquo; he exclaimed. &ldquo;He has walked into the lion&rsquo;s
+      den.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then,&rdquo; Lady Carey said, &ldquo;I am quite prepared to hear that he tamed the
+      lion.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If there was one person living whom I could have sworn that this man
+      dared not visit, it was our Emperor,&rdquo; the Prince said. &ldquo;It is only a few
+      years since, through this man&rsquo;s intrigues, Germany was shamed before the
+      world.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And yet,&rdquo; Lady Carey said sweetly, &ldquo;the Emperor has received him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have private intelligence from Berlin,&rdquo; Saxe Leinitzer answered. &ldquo;Mr.
+      Sabin was in possession of a letter written to him by the Emperor
+      Frederick, thanking him for some service or other; and the letter was a
+      talisman.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How like him,&rdquo; Lady Carey murmured, &ldquo;to have the letter.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What a pity,&rdquo; the Prince sneered, &ldquo;that such devotion should remain
+      unrewarded.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey sighed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He has broken my heart,&rdquo; she replied.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince threw out his hands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You and I,&rdquo; he cried, &ldquo;why do we behave like children! Let us start
+      afresh. Listen! The Emperor has summoned me to Berlin.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dear me,&rdquo; Lady Carey murmured. &ldquo;I am afraid you will have a most
+      unpleasant visit.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I dare not go,&rdquo; the Prince said slowly. &ldquo;It was I who induced the Emperor
+      to become the titular head of this cursed Order. Of course he knew nothing
+      about the second or third degree members and our methods. Without doubt he
+      is fully informed now. I dare not face him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What shall you do?&rdquo; Lady Carey asked curiously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am off to South America,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;It is a great undeveloped country,
+      and there is room for us to move there. Muriel, you know what I want of
+      you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My good man,&rdquo; she answered, &ldquo;I haven&rsquo;t the faintest idea.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will come with me,&rdquo; he begged. &ldquo;You will not send me into exile so
+      lonely, a wanderer! Together there may be a great future before us. You
+      have ambition, you love intrigue, excitement, danger. None of these can
+      you find here. You shall come with me. You shall not say no. Have I not
+      been your devoted slave? Have&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She stopped him. Her lips were parted in a smile of good-natured scorn.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t be absurd, Saxe Leinitzer. It is true that I love intrigue,
+      excitement and danger. That is what made me join your Order, and really I
+      have had quite a little excitement out of it, for which I suppose I ought
+      to thank you. But as for the rest, why, you are talking rubbish. I would
+      go to South America to-morrow with the right man, but with you, why, it
+      won&rsquo;t bear talking about. It makes me angry to think that you should
+      believe me capable of such shocking taste as to dream of going away with
+      you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He flung himself from the room. Lady Carey went back to her coffee and
+      letters. She sent for Annette.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Annette,&rdquo; she directed, &ldquo;we shall go to Melton to-morrow. Wire Haggis to
+      have the Lodge in order, and carriages to meet the midday train. I daresay
+      I shall take a few people down with me. Let George go around to
+      Tattershalls at once and make an appointment for me there at three o&rsquo;clock
+      this afternoon. Look out my habits and boots, too, Annette.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey leaned back in her chair for a moment with half-closed eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think,&rdquo; she murmured, &ldquo;that some of us in our youth must have drunk
+      from some poisoned cup, something which turned our blood into quicksilver.
+      I must live, or I must die. I must have excitement every hour, every
+      second, or break down. There are others too&mdash;many others. No wonder
+      that that idiot of a man in Harley Street talked to me gravely about my
+      heart. No excitement. A quiet life! Bah! Such wishy-washy coffee and only
+      one cigarette.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She lit it and stood up on the hearthrug. Her eyes were half closed, every
+      vestige of colour had left her cheeks, her hand was pressed hard to her
+      side. For a few minutes she seemed to struggle for breath. Then with a
+      little lurch as though still giddy, she stooped, and picking up her fallen
+      cigarette, thrust it defiantly between her teeth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not this way,&rdquo; she muttered. &ldquo;From a horse&rsquo;s back if I can with the air
+      rushing by, and the hot joy of it in one&rsquo;s heart... Only I hope it won&rsquo;t
+      hurt the poor old gee... Come in, Annette. What a time you&rsquo;ve been,
+      child.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      ******
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Emperor sent for Mr. Sabin. He declined to recognise his incognito.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur le Duc,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;if proof of your story were needed it is
+      here. The Prince of Saxe Leinitzer has ignored my summons. He has fled to
+      South America.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin bowed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A most interesting country,&rdquo; he murmured, &ldquo;for the Prince.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You yourself are free to go when and where you will. You need no longer
+      have any fears. The Order does not exist. I have crushed it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin bowed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your Majesty,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;has shown exemplary wisdom.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;From its inception,&rdquo; the Emperor said, &ldquo;I believe that the idea was a
+      mistaken one. I must confess that its originality pleased me; my calmer
+      reflections, however, show me that I was wrong. It is not for the nobles
+      of the earth to copy the methods of socialists and anarchists. These men
+      are a pest upon humanity, but they may have their good uses. They may help
+      us to govern alertly, vigorously, always with our eyes and ears strained
+      to catch the signs of the changing times. Monsieur le Duc, should you
+      decide to take up your residence in this country I shall at all times be
+      glad to receive you. But your future is entirely your own.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin accepted his dismissal from audience, and went back to Lucille.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Prince,&rdquo; he told her, &ldquo;has gone&mdash;to South America. The Order
+      does not exist any longer. Will you dine in Vienna, or in Frankfort?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She held out her arms.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You wonderful man!&rdquo; she cried.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+
+
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+</html>
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Yellow Crayon, by E. Phillips Oppenheim
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
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+
+Title: The Yellow Crayon
+
+Author: E. Phillips Oppenheim
+
+Posting Date: November 25, 2008 [EBook #1849]
+Release Date: August, 1999
+[Last updated: March 16, 2012]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE YELLOW CRAYON ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by An Anonymous Project Gutenberg Volunteer
+
+
+
+
+
+THE YELLOW CRAYON
+
+By E. Phillips Oppenheim
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+It was late summer-time, and the perfume of flowers stole into the
+darkened room through the half-opened window. The sunlight forced its
+way through a chink in the blind, and stretched across the floor in
+strange zigzag fashion. From without came the pleasant murmur of bees
+and many lazier insects floating over the gorgeous flower beds, resting
+for a while on the clematis which had made the piazza a blaze of purple
+splendour. And inside, in a high-backed chair, there sat a man, his arms
+folded, his eyes fixed steadily upon vacancy. As he sat then, so had he
+sat for a whole day and a whole night. The faint sweet chorus of glad
+living things, which alone broke the deep silence of the house, seemed
+neither to disturb nor interest him. He sat there like a man turned to
+stone, his forehead riven by one deep line, his straight firm mouth set
+close and hard. His servant, the only living being who had approached
+him, had set food by his side, which now and then he had mechanically
+taken. Changeless as a sphinx, he had sat there in darkness and in
+light, whilst sunlight had changed to moonlight, and the songs of the
+birds had given place to the low murmuring of frogs from a lake below
+the lawns.
+
+At last it seemed that his unnatural fit had passed away. He stretched
+out his hand and struck a silver gong which had been left within his
+reach. Almost immediately a man, pale-faced, with full dark eyes and
+olive complexion, dressed in the sombre garb of an indoor servant, stood
+at his elbow.
+
+"Duson."
+
+"Your Grace!"
+
+"Bring wine--Burgundy."
+
+It was before him, served with almost incredible despatch--a small
+cobwebbed bottle and a glass of quaint shape, on which were beautifully
+emblazoned a coronet and fleur-de-lis. He drank slowly and deliberately.
+When he set the glass down it was empty.
+
+"Duson!"
+
+"Your Grace!"
+
+"You will pack my things and your own. We shall leave for New York this
+evening. Telegraph to the Holland House for rooms."
+
+"For how many days, your Grace?"
+
+"We shall not return here. Pay off all the servants save two of the most
+trustworthy, who will remain as caretakers."
+
+The man's face was as immovable as his master's.
+
+"And Madame?"
+
+"Madame will not be returning. She will have no further use for her
+maid. See, however, that her clothes and all her personal belongings
+remain absolutely undisturbed."
+
+"Has your Grace any further orders?"
+
+"Take pencil and paper. Send this cablegram. Are you ready?"
+
+The man's head moved in respectful assent.
+
+     "To Felix,
+       "No 27, Rue de St.  Pierre,
+         "Avenue de L'Opera, Paris.
+    "Meet me at Sherry's Restaurant, New York, one month to-day, eleven
+     p.m.--V.  S."
+
+"It shall be sent immediately, your Grace. The train for New York leaves
+at seven-ten. A carriage will be here in one hour and five minutes."
+
+The man moved towards the door. His master looked up.
+
+"Duson!"
+
+"Your Grace!"
+
+"The Duc de Souspennier remains here--or at the bottom of the lake--what
+matters! It is Mr. Sabin who travels to New York, and for whom you
+engage rooms at the Holland House. Mr. Sabin is a cosmopolitan of
+English proclivities."
+
+"Very good, sir!"
+
+"Lock this door. Bring my coat and hat five minutes before the carriage
+starts. Let the servants be well paid. Let none of them attempt to see
+me."
+
+The man bowed and disappeared. Left to himself, Mr. Sabin rose from his
+chair, and pushing open the windows, stood upon the verandah. He leaned
+heavily upon his stick with both hands, holding it before him. Slowly
+his eyes traveled over the landscape.
+
+It was a very beautiful home which he was leaving. Before him stretched
+the gardens--Italian in design, brilliant with flowers, with here and
+there a dark cedar-tree drooping low upon the lawn. A yew hedge bordered
+the rose-garden, a fountain was playing in the middle of a lake. A
+wooden fence encircled the grounds, and beyond was a smooth rolling
+park, with little belts of pine plantations and a few larger trees here
+and there. In the far distance the red flag was waving on one of the
+putting greens. Archie Green was strolling up the hillside,--his pipe
+in his mouth, and his driver under his arm. Mr. Sabin watched, and the
+lines in his face grew deeper and deeper.
+
+"I am an old man," he said softly, "but I will live to see them suffer
+who have done this evil thing."
+
+He turned slowly back into the room, and limping rather more than was
+usual with him, he pushed aside a portiere and passed into a charmingly
+furnished country drawing-room. Only the flowers hung dead in their
+vases; everything else was fresh and sweet and dainty. Slowly he
+threaded his way amongst the elegant Louis Quinze furniture, examining
+as though for the first time the beautiful old tapestry, the Sevres
+china, the Chippendale table, which was priceless, the exquisite
+portraits painted by Greuze, and the mysterious green twilights and
+grey dawns of Corot. Everywhere treasures of art, yet everywhere the
+restraining hand of the artist. The faint smell of dead rose leaves hung
+about the room. Already one seemed conscious of a certain emptiness as
+though the genius of the place had gone. Mr. Sabin leaned heavily upon
+his stick, and his head drooped lower and lower. A soft, respectful
+voice came to him from the other room.
+
+"In five minutes, sir, the carriage will be at the door. I have your
+coat and hat here."
+
+Mr. Sabin looked up.
+
+"I am quite ready, Duson!" he said.
+
+      *           *           *           *           *
+
+The servants in the hall stood respectfully aside to let him pass. On
+the way to the depot he saw nothing of those who saluted him. In the car
+he sat with folded arms in the most retired seat, looking steadfastly
+out of the window at the dying day. There were mountains away westwards,
+touched with golden light; sometimes for long minutes together the train
+was rushing through forests whose darkness was like that of a tunnel.
+Mr. Sabin seemed indifferent to these changes. The coming of night did
+not disturb him. His brain was at work, and the things which he saw were
+hidden from other men.
+
+Duson, with a murmur of apology, broke in upon his meditations.
+
+"You will pardon me, sir, but the second dinner is now being served. The
+restaurant car will be detached at the next stop."
+
+"What of it?" Mr. Sabin asked calmly.
+
+"I have taken the liberty of ordering dinner for you, sir. It is thirty
+hours since you ate anything save biscuits."
+
+Mr. Sabin rose to his feet.
+
+"You are quite right, Duson," he said. "I will dine."
+
+In half-an-hour he was back again. Duson placed before him silently a
+box of cigarettes and matches. Mr. Sabin smoked.
+
+Soon the lights of the great city flared in the sky, the train stopped
+more frequently, the express men and newspaper boys came into evidence.
+Mr. Sabin awoke from his long spell of thought. He bought a newspaper,
+and glanced through the list of steamers which had sailed during the
+week. When the train glided into the depot he was on his feet and ready
+to leave it.
+
+"You will reserve our rooms, Duson, for one month," he said on the way
+to the hotel. "We shall probably leave for Europe a month to-morrow."
+
+"Very good, sir."
+
+"You were Mrs. Peterson's servant, Duson, before you were mine!"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"You have been with her, I believe, for many years. You are doubtless
+much attached to her!"
+
+"Indeed I am, sir!"
+
+"You may have surmised, Duson, that she has left me. I desire to ensure
+your absolute fidelity, so I take you into my confidence to this extent.
+Your mistress is in the hands of those who have some power over her. Her
+absence is involuntary so far as she is concerned. It has been a great
+blow to me. I am prepared to run all risks to discover her whereabouts.
+It is late in my life for adventures, but it is very certain that
+adventures and dangers are before us. In accompanying me you will
+associate yourself with many risks. Therefore--"
+
+Duson held up his hand.
+
+"I beg, sir," he exclaimed, "that you will not suggest for a moment my
+leaving your service on that account. I beg most humbly, sir, that you
+will not do me that injustice."
+
+Mr. Sabin paused. His eyes, like lightning, read the other's face.
+
+"It is settled then, Duson," he said. "Kindly pay this cabman, and
+follow me as quickly as possible."
+
+Mr. Sabin passed across the marble hall, leaning heavily upon his stick.
+Yet for all his slow movements there was a new alertness in his eyes and
+bearing. He was once more taking keen note of everybody and everything
+about him. Only a few days ago she had been here.
+
+He claimed his rooms at the office, and handed the keys to Duson, who by
+this time had rejoined him. At the moment of turning away he addressed
+an inquiry to the clerk behind the counter.
+
+"Can you tell me if the Duchess of Souspennier is staying here?" he
+inquired.
+
+The young man glanced up.
+
+"Been here, I guess. Left on Tuesday."
+
+Mr. Sabin turned away. He did not speak again until Duson and he were
+alone in the sitting-room. Then he drew out a five dollar bill.
+
+"Duson," he said, "take this to the head luggage porter. Tell him to
+bring his departure book up here at once, and there is another waiting
+for him. You understand?"
+
+"Certainly, sir!"
+
+Mr. Sabin turned to enter his bed-chamber. His attention was attracted,
+however, by a letter lying flat upon the table. He took it up. It was
+addressed to Mr. Sabin.
+
+"This is very clever," he mused, hesitating for a moment before opening
+it. "I wired for rooms only a few hours ago--and I find a letter. It is
+the commencement."
+
+He tore open the envelope, and drew out a single half-sheet of
+note-paper. Across it was scrawled a single sentence only.
+
+"Go back to Lenox."
+
+There was no signature, nor any date. The only noticeable thing about
+this brief communication was that it was written in yellow pencil of a
+peculiar shade. Mr. Sabin's eyes glittered as he read.
+
+"The yellow crayon!" he muttered.
+
+Duson knocked softly at the door. Mr. Sabin thrust the letter and
+envelope into his breast coat pocket.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+"This is the luggage porter, sir," Duson announced. "He is prepared to
+answer any questions."
+
+The man took out his book. Mr. Sabin, who was sitting in an easy-chair,
+turned sideways towards him.
+
+"The Duchess of Souspennier was staying here last week," he said. "She
+left, I believe, on Thursday or Friday. Can you tell me whether her
+baggage went through your hands?"
+
+The man set down his hat upon a vacant chair, and turned over the leaves
+of his book.
+
+"Guess I can fix that for you," he remarked, running his forefinger
+down one of the pages. "Here we are. The Duchess left on Friday, and
+we checked her baggage through to Lenox by the New York, New Haven &
+Hartford."
+
+Mr. Sabin nodded.
+
+"Thank you," he said. "She would probably take a carriage to the
+station. It will be worth another ten dollars to you if you can find me
+the man who drove her."
+
+"Well, we ought to manage that for you," the man remarked encouragingly.
+"It was one of Steve Hassell's carriages, I guess, unless the lady took
+a hansom."
+
+"Very good," Mr. Sabin said. "See if you can find him. Keep my inquiries
+entirely to yourself. It will pay you."
+
+"That's all right," the man remarked. "Don't you go to bed for
+half-an-hour, and I guess you'll hear from me again."
+
+Duson busied himself in the bed-chamber, Mr. Sabin sat motionless in
+his easy chair. Soon there came a tap at the door. The porter reappeared
+ushering in a smart-looking young man, who carried a shiny coachman's
+hat in his hand.
+
+"Struck it right fust time," the porter remarked cheerfully. "This is
+the man, sir."
+
+Mr. Sabin turned his head.
+
+"You drove a lady from here to the New York, New Haven & Hartford Depot
+last Friday?" he asked.
+
+"Well, not exactly, sir," the man answered. "The Duchess took my cab,
+and the first address she gave was the New York, New Haven &
+Hartford Depot, but before we'd driven a hundred yards she pulled the
+check-string and ordered me to go to the Waldorf. She paid me there, and
+went into the hotel."
+
+"You have not seen her since?"
+
+"No, sir!"
+
+"You knew her by sight, you say. Was there anything special about her
+appearance?"
+
+The man hesitated.
+
+"She'd a pretty thick veil on, sir, but she raised it to pay me, and I
+should say she'd been crying. She was much paler, too, than last time I
+drove her."
+
+"When was that?" Mr. Sabin asked.
+
+"In the spring, sir,--with you, begging your pardon. You were at the
+Netherlands, and I drove you out several times."
+
+"You seem," Mr. Sabin said, "to be a person with some powers of
+observation. It would pay you very well indeed if you would ascertain
+from any of your mates at the Waldorf when and with whom the lady in
+question left that hotel."
+
+"I'll have a try, sir," the man answered. "The Duchess was better known
+here, but some of them may have recognised her."
+
+"She had no luggage, I presume?" Mr. Sabin asked.
+
+"Her dressing-case and jewel-case only, sir."
+
+"So you see," Mr. Sabin continued, "it is probable that she did not
+remain at the Waldorf for the night. Base your inquiries on that
+supposition."
+
+"Very good, sir."
+
+"From your manners and speech," Mr. Sabin said, raising his head, "I
+should take you to be an Englishman."
+
+"Quite correct, sir," the man answered. "I drove a hansom in London for
+eight years."
+
+"You will understand me then," Mr. Sabin continued, "when I say that I
+have no great confidence in the police of this country. I do not wish
+to be blackmailed or bullied. I would ask you, therefore, to make your
+inquiries with discretion."
+
+"I'll be careful, sir," the man answered.
+
+Mr. Sabin handed to each of them a roll of notes. The cabdriver lingered
+upon the threshold. Mr. Sabin looked up.
+
+"Well?"
+
+"Could I speak a word to you--in private, sir?"
+
+Mr. Sabin motioned Duson to leave the room. The baggage porter had
+already departed.
+
+"When I cleaned out my cab at night, sir, I found this. I didn't reckon
+it was of any consequence at first, but from the questions you have been
+asking it may be useful to you."
+
+Mr. Sabin took the half-sheet of note-paper in silence. It was the
+ordinary stationery of the Waldorf Astoria Hotel, and the following
+words were written upon it in a faint delicate handwriting, but in
+yellow pencil:--
+
+                                                  "Sept.  10th.
+  "To LUCILLE, Duchesse de SOUSPENNIER.--
+  "You will be at the Waldorf Astoria Hotel in the main corridor
+   at four o'clock this afternoon."
+
+The thin paper shook in Mr. Sabin's fingers. There was no signature,
+but he fancied that the handwriting was not wholly unfamiliar to him. He
+looked slowly up towards the cabman.
+
+"I am much obliged to you," he said. "This is of interest to me."
+
+He stretched out his hand to the little wad of notes which Duson had
+left upon the table, but the cabdriver backed away.
+
+"Beg pardon, sir," he said. "You've given me plenty. The letter's of no
+value to me. I came very near tearing it up, but for the peculiar colour
+pencil it's written with. Kinder took my fancy, sir."
+
+"The letter is of value," Mr. Sabin said. "It tells me much more than I
+hoped to discover. It is our good fortune."
+
+The man accepted the little roll of bills and departed. Mr. Sabin
+touched the bell.
+
+"Duson, what time is it?"
+
+"Nearly midnight, sir!"
+
+"I will go to bed!"
+
+"Very good, sir!"
+
+"Mix me a sleeping draught, Duson. I need rest. See that I am not
+disturbed until ten o'clock to-morrow morning."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+At precisely ten o'clock on the following morning Duson brought
+chocolate, which he had prepared himself, and some dry toast to his
+master's bedside. Upon the tray was a single letter. Mr. Sabin sat up in
+bed and tore open the envelope. The following words were written upon
+a sheet of the Holland House notepaper in the same peculiar coloured
+crayon.
+
+"The first warning addressed to you yesterday was a friendly one. Profit
+by it. Go back to Lenox. You are only exposing yourself to danger and
+the person you seek to discomfort. Wait there, and some one shall come
+to you shortly who will explain what has happened, and the necessity for
+it."
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled, a slow contemplative smile. He sipped his chocolate
+and lit a cigarette.
+
+"Our friends, then," he said softly, "do not care about pursuit and
+inquiries. It is ridiculous to suppose that their warning is given out
+of any consideration to me. Duson!"
+
+"Yes, sir!"
+
+"My bath. I shall rise now."
+
+Mr. Sabin made his toilet with something of the same deliberation which
+characterised all his movements. Then he descended into the hall, bought
+a newspaper, and from a convenient easy-chair kept a close observation
+upon every one who passed to and fro for about an hour. Later on he
+ordered a carriage, and made several calls down town.
+
+At a few minutes past twelve he entered the bar of the Fifth Avenue
+Hotel, and ordering a drink sat down at one of the small tables. The
+room was full, but Mr. Sabin's attention was directed solely to one
+group of men who stood a short distance away before the counter drinking
+champagne. The central person of the group was a big man, with an
+unusually large neck, a fat pale face, a brown moustache tinged with
+grey, and a voice and laugh like a fog-horn. It was he apparently who
+was paying for the champagne, and he was clearly on intimate terms with
+all the party. Mr. Sabin watched for his opportunity, and then rising
+from his seat touched him on the shoulder.
+
+"Mr. Skinner, I believe?" he said quietly.
+
+The big man looked down upon Mr. Sabin with the sullen offensiveness of
+the professional bully.
+
+"You've hit it first time," he admitted. "Who are you, anyway?"
+
+Mr. Sabin produced a card.
+
+"I called this morning," he said, "upon the gentleman whose name you
+will see there. He directed me to you, and told me to come here."
+
+The man tore the card into small pieces.
+
+"So long, boys," he said, addressing his late companions. "See you
+to-night."
+
+They accepted his departure in silence, and one and all favoured Mr.
+Sabin with a stare of blatant curiosity.
+
+"I should be glad to speak with you," Mr. Sabin said, "in a place where
+we are likely to be neither disturbed nor overheard."
+
+"You come right across to my office," was the prompt reply. "I guess we
+can fix it up there."
+
+Mr. Sabin motioned to his coachman, and they crossed Broadway. His
+companion led him into a tall building, talking noisily all the time
+about the pals whom he had just left. An elevator transported them to
+the twelfth floor in little more than as many seconds, and Mr. Skinner
+ushered his visitor into a somewhat bare-looking office, smelling
+strongly of stale tobacco smoke. Mr. Skinner at once lit a cigar, and
+seating himself before his desk, folded his arms and leaned over towards
+Mr. Sabin.
+
+"Smoke one?" he asked, pointing to the open box.
+
+Mr. Sabin declined.
+
+"Get right ahead then."
+
+"I am an Englishman," Mr. Sabin said slowly, "and consequently am not
+altogether at home with your ways over here. I have always understood,
+however, that if you are in need of any special information such as we
+should in England apply to the police for, over here there is a quicker
+and more satisfactory method of procedure."
+
+"You've come a long way round," Mr. Skinner remarked, spitting upon the
+floor, "but you're dead right."
+
+"I am in need of some information," Mr. Sabin continued, "and
+accordingly I called this morning on Mr.--"
+
+Mr. Skinner held up his hand.
+
+"All right," he said. "We don't mention names more than we can help.
+Call him the boss."
+
+"He assured me that the information I was in need of was easily to be
+obtained, and gave me a card to you."
+
+"Go right on," Mr. Skinner said. "What is it?"
+
+"On Friday last," Mr. Sabin said, "at four o'clock, the Duchess of
+Souspennier, whose picture I will presently show you, left the Holland
+House Hotel for the New York, New Haven & Hartford Depot, presumably for
+her home at Lenox, to which place her baggage had already been checked.
+On the way she ordered the cabman to set her down at the Waldorf-Astoria
+Hotel, which he did at a few minutes past four. The Duchess has not
+returned home or been directly heard from since. I wish to ascertain her
+movements since she arrived at the Waldorf."
+
+"Sounds dead easy," Mr. Skinner remarked reassuringly. "Got the
+picture?"
+
+Mr. Sabin touched the spring of a small gold locket which he drew
+from an inside waistcoat pocket, and disclosed a beautifully painted
+miniature. Mr. Skinner's thick lips were pursed into a whistle. He
+was on the point of making a remark when he chanced to glance into Mr.
+Sabin's face. The remark remained unspoken.
+
+He drew a sheet of note-paper towards him and made a few notes upon it.
+
+"The Duchess many friends in New York?"
+
+"At present none. The few people whom she knows here are at Newport or
+in Europe just now."
+
+"Any idea whom she went to the Waldorf to see? More we know the better."
+
+Mr. Sabin handed him the letter which had been picked up in the cab. Mr.
+Skinner read it through, and spat once more upon the floor.
+
+"What the h---'s this funny coloured pencil mean?"
+
+"I do not know," Mr. Sabin answered. "You will see that the two
+anonymous communications which I have received since arriving in New
+York yesterday are written in the same manner."
+
+Mr. Sabin handed him the other two letters, which Mr. Skinner carefully
+perused.
+
+"I guess you'd better tell me who you are," he suggested.
+
+"I am the husband of the Duchess of Souspennier," Mr. Sabin answered.
+
+"The Duchess send any word home at all?" Mr. Skinner asked.
+
+Mr. Sabin produced a worn telegraph form. It was handed in at Fifth
+Avenue, New York, at six o'clock on Friday. It contained the single word
+'Good-bye.'
+
+"H'm," Mr. Skinner remarked. "We'll find all you want to know by
+to-morrow sure."
+
+"What do you make of the two letters which I received?" Mr. Sabin asked.
+
+"Bunkum!" Mr. Skinner replied confidently.
+
+Mr. Sabin nodded his head.
+
+"You have no secret societies over here, I suppose?" he said.
+
+Mr. Skinner laughed loudly and derisively.
+
+"I guess not," he answered. "They keep that sort of rubbish on the other
+side of the pond."
+
+"Ah!"
+
+Mr. Sabin was thoughtful for a moment. "You expect to find, then," he
+remarked, "some other cause for my wife's disappearance?"
+
+"There don't seem much room for doubt concerning that, sir," Mr. Skinner
+said; "but I never speculate. I will bring you the facts to-night
+between eight and eleven. Now as to the business side of it."
+
+Mr. Sabin was for a moment puzzled.
+
+"What's the job worth to you?" Mr. Skinner asked. "I am willing to pay,"
+Mr. Sabin answered, "according to your demands."
+
+"It's a simple case," Mr. Skinner admitted, "but our man at the Waldorf
+is expensive. If you get all your facts, I guess five hundred dollars
+will about see you through."
+
+"I will pay that," Mr. Sabin answered.
+
+"I will bring you the letters back to-night," Mr. Skinner said. "I guess
+I'll borrow that locket of yours, too."
+
+Mr. Sabin shook his head.
+
+"That," he said firmly, "I do not part with." Mr. Skinner scratched his
+ear with his penholder. "It's the only scrap of identifying matter
+we've got," he remarked. "Of course it's a dead simple case, and we can
+probably manage without it. But I guess it's as well to fix the thing
+right down."
+
+"If you will give me a piece of paper," Mr. Sabin said, "I will make you
+a sketch of the Duchess. The larger the better. I can give you an idea
+of the sort of clothes she would probably be wearing."
+
+Mr. Skinner furnished him with a double sheet of paper, and Mr. Sabin,
+with set face and unflinching figures, reproduced in a few simple
+strokes a wonderful likeness of the woman he loved. He pushed it away
+from him when he had finished without remark. Mr. Skinner was loud in
+its praises.
+
+"I guess you're an artist, sir, for sure," he remarked. "This'll fix the
+thing. Shall I come to your hotel?"
+
+"If you please," Mr. Sabin answered. "I shall be there for the rest of
+the day."
+
+Mr. Skinner took up his hat.
+
+"Guess I'll take my dinner and get right to work," he remarked. "Say,
+you come along, Mr. Sabin. I'll take you where they'll fix you such a
+beefsteak as you never tasted in your life."
+
+"I thank you very much," Mr. Sabin said, "but I must beg to be excused.
+I am expecting some despatches at my hotel. If you are successful this
+afternoon you will perhaps do me the honour of dining with me to-night.
+I will wait until eight-thirty."
+
+The two men parted upon the pavement. Mr. Skinner, with his small bowler
+hat on the back of his head, a fresh cigar in the corner of his mouth,
+and his thumbs in the armholes of his waistcoat, strolled along Broadway
+with something akin to a smile parting his lips, and showing his yellow
+teeth.
+
+"Darned old fool," he muttered. "To marry a slap-up handsome woman like
+that, and then pretend not to know what it means when she bolts. Guess
+I'll spoil his supper to-night."
+
+Mr. Sabin, however, was recovering his spirits. He, too, was leaning
+back in the corner of his carriage with a faint smile brightening his
+hard, stern face. But, unlike Mr. Skinner, he did not talk to himself.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+R. Sabin, who was never, for its own sake, fond of solitude, had ordered
+dinner for two at eight-thirty in the general dining-room. At a few
+minutes previous to that hour Mr. Skinner presented himself.
+
+Mr. Skinner was not in the garb usually affected by men of the world
+who are invited to dine out. The long day's exertion, too, had had its
+effect upon his linen. His front, indeed, through a broad gap,
+confessed to a foundation of blue, and one of his cuffs showed a marked
+inclination to escape from his wrist over his knuckles. His face
+was flushed, and he exhaled a strong odour of cigars and cocktails.
+Nevertheless, Mr. Sabin was very glad to see him, and to receive the
+folded sheet of paper which he at once produced.
+
+"I have taken the liberty," Mr. Sabin remarked, on his part, "of adding
+a trifle to the amount we first spoke of, which I beg you will accept
+from me as a mark of my gratitude for your promptness."
+
+"Sure!" Mr. Skinner answered tersely, receiving the little roll of
+bills without hesitation, and retreating into a quiet corner, where
+he carefully counted and examined every one. "That's all right!" he
+announced at the conclusion of his task. "Come and have one with me now
+before you read your little billet-doux, eh?"
+
+"I shall not read your report until after dinner," Mr. Sabin said,
+"and I think if you are ready that we might as well go in. At the
+head-waiter's suggestion I have ordered a cocktail with the oysters,
+and if we are much later he seemed to fear that it might affect the
+condition of the--I think it was terrapin, he said."
+
+Mr. Skinner stopped short. His tone betrayed emotion.
+
+"Did you say terrapin, sir?"
+
+Mr. Sabin nodded. Mr. Skinner at once took his arm.
+
+"Guess we'll go right in," he declared. "I hate to have a good meal
+spoiled."
+
+They were an old-looking couple. Mr. Sabin quietly but faultlessly
+attired in the usual evening dinner garb, Mr. Skinner ill-dressed,
+untidy, unwashed and frowsy. But here at least Mr. Sabin's incognito
+had been unavailing, for he had stayed at the hotel several times--as he
+remembered with an odd little pang--with Lucille, and the head-waiter,
+with a low bow, ushered them to their table. Mr. Skinner saw the
+preparations for their repast, the oysters, the cocktails in tall
+glasses, the magnum of champagne in ice, and chuckled. To take supper
+with a duke was a novelty to him, but he was not shy. He sat down and
+tucked his serviette into his waistcoat, raised his glass, and suddenly
+set it down again.
+
+"The boss!" he exclaimed in amazement.
+
+Mr. Sabin turned his head in the direction which his companion had
+indicated. Coming hastily across the room towards them, already out of
+breath as though with much hurrying, was a thick-set, powerful man, with
+the brutal face and coarse lips of a prizefighter; a beard cropped so
+short as to seem the growth of a few days only covered his chin, and his
+moustache, treated in the same way, was not thick enough to conceal
+a cruel mouth. He was carefully enough dressed, and a great diamond
+flashed from his tie. There was a red mark round his forehead where his
+hat had been, and the perspiration was streaming from his forehead. He
+strode without hesitation to the table where Mr. Sabin and his guest
+were sitting, and without even a glance at the former turned upon his
+myrmidon.
+
+"Where's that report?" he cried roughly. "Where is it?"
+
+Mr. Skinner seemed to have shrunk into a smaller man. He pointed across
+the table.
+
+"I've given it to him," he said. "What's wrong, boss?"
+
+The newcomer raised his hand as though to strike Skinner. He gnashed his
+teeth with the effort to control himself.
+
+"You damned blithering idiot," he said hoarsely, gripping the side of
+the table. "Why wasn't it presented to me first?"
+
+"Guess it didn't seem worth while," Skinner answered. "There's nothing
+in the darned thing."
+
+"You ignorant fool, hold your tongue," was the fierce reply.
+
+The newcomer sank into a chair and wiped the perspiration from his
+streaming forehead. Mr. Sabin signaled to a waiter.
+
+"You seem upset, Mr. Horser," he remarked politely. "Allow me to offer
+you a glass of wine."
+
+Mr. Horser did not immediately reply, but he accepted the glass which
+the waiter brought him, and after a moment's hesitation drained its
+contents. Then he turned to Mr. Sabin.
+
+"You said nothing about those letters you had had when you came to see
+me this morning!"
+
+"It was you yourself," Mr. Sabin reminded him, "who begged me not
+to enter into particulars. You sent me on to Mr. Skinner. I told him
+everything."
+
+Mr. Horser leaned over the table. His eyes were bloodshot, his tone was
+fierce and threatening. Mr. Sabin was coldly courteous. The difference
+between the demeanour of the two men was remarkable.
+
+"You knew what those letters meant! This is a plot! Where is Skinner's
+report?"
+
+Mr. Sabin raised his eyebrows. He signaled to the head-waiter.
+
+"Be so good as to continue the service of my dinner," he ordered. "The
+champagne is a trifle too chilled. You can take it out of the cooler."
+
+The man bowed, with a curious side glance at Horser.
+
+"Certainly, your Grace!"
+
+Horser was almost speechless with anger.
+
+"Are you going to answer my questions?" he demanded thickly.
+
+"I have no particular objection to doing so," Mr. Sabin answered, "but
+until you can sit up and compose yourself like an ordinary individual, I
+decline to enter into any conversation with you at all."
+
+Again Mr. Horser raised his voice, and the glare in his eyes was like
+the glare of a wild beast.
+
+"Do you know who I am?" he asked. "Do you know who you're talking to?"
+
+Mr. Sabin looked at him coolly, and fingered his wineglass.
+
+"Well," he said, "I've a shocking memory for names, but yours is--Mr.
+Horser, isn't it? I heard it for the first time this morning, and my
+memory will generally carry me through four-and-twenty hours."
+
+There was a moment's silence. Horser was no fool. He accepted his defeat
+and dropped the bully.
+
+"You're a stranger in this city, Mr. Sabin, and I guess you aren't
+altogether acquainted with our ways yet," he said. "But I want you
+to understand this. The report which is in your pocket has got to be
+returned to me. If I'd known what I was meddling with I wouldn't have
+touched your business for a hundred thousand dollars. It's got to be
+returned to me, I say!" he repeated in a more threatening tone.
+
+Mr. Sabin helped himself to fish, and made a careful examination of the
+sauce.
+
+"After all," he said meditatively, "I am not sure that I was wise in
+insisting upon a sauce piquante. I beg your pardon, Mr. Horser. Please
+do not think me inattentive, but I am very hungry. So, I believe, is my
+friend, Mr. Skinner. Will you not join us--or perhaps you have already
+dined?"
+
+There was an ugly flush in Mr. Horser's cheeks, but he struggled to keep
+his composure.
+
+"Will you give me back that report?"
+
+"When I have read it, with pleasure," Mr. Sabin answered. "Before, no."
+
+Mr. Horser swallowed an exceedingly vicious oath. He struck the table
+lightly with his forefinger.
+
+"Look here," he said. "If you'd lived in New York a couple of years,
+even a couple of months, you wouldn't talk like that. I tell you that
+I hold the government of this city in my right hand. I don't want to be
+unpleasant, but if that paper is not in my hands by the time you leave
+this table I shall have you arrested as you leave this room, and the
+papers taken from you."
+
+"Dear me," Mr. Sabin said, "this is serious. On what charge may I ask
+should I be exposed to this inconvenience?"
+
+"Charge be damned!" Mr. Horser answered. "The police don't want
+particulars from me. When I say do a thing they do it. They know that if
+they declined it would be their last day on the force."
+
+Mr. Sabin filled his glass and leaned back in his chair.
+
+"This," he remarked, "is interesting. I am always glad to have the
+opportunity of gaining an insight into the customs of different
+countries. I had an idea that America was a country remarkable for the
+amount of liberty enjoyed by its inhabitants. Your proposed course of
+action seems scarcely in keeping with this."
+
+"What are you going to do? Come, I've got to have an answer."
+
+"I don't quite understand," Mr. Sabin remarked, with a puzzled look,
+"what your official position is in connection with the police."
+
+Mr. Horser's face was a very ugly sight. "Oh, curse my official
+position," he exclaimed thickly. "If you want proof of what I say you
+shall have it in less than five minutes. Skinner, be off and fetch a
+couple of constables."
+
+"I really must protest," Mr. Sabin said. "Mr. Skinner is my guest, and
+I will not have him treated in this fashion, just as the terrapin is
+coming in, too. Sit down, Mr. Skinner, sit down. I will settle this
+matter with you in my room, Mr. Horser, after I have dined. I will not
+even discuss it before."
+
+Mr. Horser opened his mouth twice, and closed it again. He knew that his
+opponent was simply playing to gain time, but, after all, he held the
+trump card. He could afford to wait. He turned to a waiter and ordered a
+cigar. Mr. Sabin and Mr. Skinner continued their dinner.
+
+Conversation was a little difficult, though Mr. Sabin showed no signs of
+an impaired appetite. Skinner was white with fear, and glanced every now
+and then nervously at his chief. Mr. Horser smoked without ceasing, and
+maintained an ominous silence. Mr. Sabin at last, with a sigh, rose,
+and lighting a cigarette, took his stick from the waiter and prepared to
+leave.
+
+"I fear, Mr. Horser," he remarked, "that your presence has scarcely
+contributed to the cheerfulness of our repast. Mr. Skinner, am I to be
+favoured with your company also upstairs?"
+
+Horser clutched that gentleman's arm and whispered a few words in his
+ear.
+
+"Mr. Skinner," he said, "will join us presently. What is your number?"
+
+"336," Mr. Sabin answered. "You will excuse my somewhat slow progress."
+
+They crossed the hall and entered the elevator. Mr. Horser's face
+began to clear. In a moment or two they would be in Mr. Sabin's
+sitting-room-alone. He regarded with satisfaction the other's slim,
+delicate figure and the limp with which he moved. He felt that the
+danger was already over.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+BUT, after all, things did not exactly turn out as Mr. Horser had
+imagined. The sight of the empty room and the closed door were
+satisfactory enough, and he did not hesitate for a moment.
+
+"Look here, sir," he said, "you and I are going to settle this matter
+quick. Whatever you paid Skinner you can have back again. But I'm going
+to have that report."
+
+He took a quick step forward with uplifted hand--and looked into the
+shining muzzle of a tiny revolver. Behind it Mr. Sabin's face, no longer
+pleasant and courteous, had taken to itself some very grim lines.
+
+"I am a weak man, Mr. Horser, but I am never without the means of
+self-defence," Mr. Sabin said in a still, cold tone. "Be so good as to
+sit down in that easy-chair."
+
+Mr. Horser hesitated. For one moment he stood as though about to carry
+out his first intention. He stood glaring at his opponent, his face
+contracted into a snarl, his whole appearance hideous, almost bestial.
+Mr. Sabin smiled upon him contemptuously--the maddening, compelling
+smile of the born aristocrat.
+
+"Sit down!"
+
+Mr. Horser sat down, whereupon Mr. Sabin followed suit.
+
+"Now what have you to say to me?" Mr. Sabin asked quietly.
+
+"I want that report," was the dogged answer.
+
+"You will not have it," Mr. Sabin answered. "You can take that for
+granted. You shall not take it from me by force, and I will see that you
+do not charm it out of my pocket by other means. The information which
+it contains is of the utmost possible importance to me. I have bought it
+and paid for it, and I shall use it."
+
+Mr. Horser moistened his dry lips.
+
+"I will give you," he said, "twenty thousand dollars for its return."
+
+Mr. Sabin laughed softly.
+
+"You bid high," he said. "I begin to suspect that our friends on the
+other side of the water have been more than ordinarily kind to you."
+
+"I will give you--forty thousand dollars."
+
+Mr. Sabin raised his eyebrows.
+
+"So much? After all, that sounds more like fear than anything. You
+cannot hope to make a profitable deal out of that. Dear me! It seems
+only a few minutes ago that I heard your interesting friend, Mr.
+Skinner, shake with laughter at the mention of such a thing as a secret
+society."
+
+"Skinner is a blasted fool," Horser exclaimed fiercely. "Listen here,
+Mr. Sabin. You can read that report if you must, but, as I'm a living
+man you'll not stir from New York if you do. I'll make your life a hell
+for you. Don't you understand that no one but a born fool would dare
+to quarrel with me in this city? I hold the prison keys, the police
+are mine. I shall make my own charge, whatever I choose, and they shall
+prove it for me."
+
+Mr. Sabin shook his head.
+
+"This sounds very shocking," he remarked. "I had no idea that the
+largest city of the most enlightened country in the world was in such a
+sorry plight."
+
+"Oh, curse your sarcasm," Mr. Horser said. "I'm talking facts, and
+you've got to know them. Will you give up that report? You can find out
+all there is in it for yourself. But I'm going to give it you straight.
+If I don't have that report back unread, you'll never leave New York."
+
+Mr. Sabin was genuinely amused.
+
+"My good fellow," he said, "you have made yourself a notorious person in
+this country by dint of incessant bullying and bribing and corruption of
+every sort. You may possess all the powers you claim. Your only
+mistake seems to be that you are too thick-headed to know when you are
+overmatched. I have been a diplomatist all my life," Mr. Sabin said,
+rising slowly to his feet, and with a sudden intent look upon his face,
+"and if I were to be outwitted by such a novice as you I should deserve
+to end my days--in New York."
+
+Mr. Horser rose also to his feet. A smile of triumph was on his lips.
+
+"Well," he said, "we-- Come in! Come in!" The door was thrown open.
+Skinner and two policemen entered. Mr. Sabin leaned towards the wall,
+and in a second the room was plunged in darkness.
+
+"Turn on the lights!" Skinner shouted. "Seize him! He's in that
+corner. Use your clubs!" Horser bawled. "Stand by the door one of you.
+Damnation, where is that switch?"
+
+He found it with a shout of triumph. Lights flared out in the room. They
+stared around into every corner. Mr. Sabin was not there. Then Horser
+saw the door leading into the bed-chamber, and flung himself against it
+with a hoarse cry of rage.
+
+"Break it open!" he cried to the policemen.
+
+They hammered upon it with their clubs. Mr. Sabin's quiet voice came to
+them from the other side.
+
+"Pray do not disturb me, gentlemen," he said. "I am reading."
+
+"Break it open, you damned fools!" Horser cried. They battered at it
+sturdily, but the door was a solid one. Suddenly they heard the key turn
+in the lock. Mr. Sabin stood upon the threshold.
+
+"Gentlemen!" he exclaimed. "These are my private apartments. Why this
+violence?"
+
+He held out the paper.
+
+"This is mine," he said. "The information which it contains is bought
+and paid for. But if the giving it up will procure me the privilege of
+your departure, pray take it."
+
+Horser was purple with rage. He pointed with shaking fist to the still,
+calm figure.
+
+"Arrest him," he ordered. "Take him to the cells."
+
+Mr. Sabin shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"I am ready," he said, "but it is only fair to give you this warning. I
+am the Duke of Souspennier, and I am well known in England and France.
+The paper which you saw me hand to the porter in the hall as we stepped
+into the elevator was a despatch in cipher to the English Ambassador at
+Washington, claiming his protection. If you take me to prison to-night
+you will have him to deal with to-morrow."
+
+Mr. Horser bore himself in defeat better than at any time during the
+encounter. He turned to the constables.
+
+"Go down stairs and wait for me in the hall," he ordered. "You too,
+Skinner."
+
+They left the room. Horser turned to Mr. Sabin, and the veins on his
+forehead stood out like whipcord.
+
+"I know when I'm beaten," he said. "Keep your report, and be damned to
+you. But remember that you and I have a score to settle, and you can ask
+those who know me how often Dick Horser comes out underneath in the long
+run."
+
+He followed the others. Mr. Sabin sat down in his easy-chair with
+a quiet smile upon his lips. Once more he glanced through the brief
+report. Then his eyes half closed, and he sat quite still--a tired,
+weary-looking man, almost unnaturally pale.
+
+"They have kept their word," he said softly to himself, "after many
+years. After many years!"
+
+      *           *           *           *           *
+
+Duson came in to undress him shortly afterwards. He saw signs of the
+struggle, but made no comment. Mr. Sabin, after a moment's hesitation,
+took a phial from his pocket and poured a few drops into a wineglassful
+of water.
+
+"Duson," he said, "bring me some despatch forms and a pencil."
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+Mr. Sabin wrote for several moments. Then he placed the forms in an
+envelope, sealed it, and handed it to Duson.
+
+"Duson," he said, "that fellow Horser is annoyed with me. If I should
+be arrested on any charge, or should fail to return to the hotel within
+reasonable time, break that seal and send off the telegrams."
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+Mr. Sabin yawned.
+
+"I need sleep," he said. "Do not call me to-morrow morning until I ring.
+And, Duson!"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"The Campania will sail from New York somewhere about the tenth of
+October. I wish to secure the whole of stateroom number twenty-eight. Go
+round to the office as soon as they open, secure that room if possible,
+and pay a deposit. No other will do. Also one for yourself."
+
+"Very good, sir."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+"Here's a lady inquiring for you, sir--just gone up to your room in the
+elevator," the hotel clerk remarked to Mr. Sabin as he paused on his way
+to the door to hand in his key. "Shall I send a boy up?"
+
+Mr. Sabin hesitated.
+
+"A lady?" he remarked tentatively.
+
+The hotel clerk nodded.
+
+"Yes. I didn't notice the name, but she was an Englishwoman. I'll send
+up."
+
+"Thank you, I will return," Mr. Sabin said. "If I should miss her on the
+way perhaps you will kindly redirect her to my rooms."
+
+He rang for the elevator, and was swiftly transported to his own floor.
+The door of his sitting-room was open. Duson was talking to a tall fair
+woman, who turned swiftly round at the sound of his approach.
+
+"Ah, they found you, then!" she exclaimed, coming towards him with
+outstretched hands. "Isn't this a strange place and a strange country
+for us to meet once more in?"
+
+He greeted her gallantly, but with a certain reserve, of which she was
+at once aware.
+
+"Are there any countries in the world left which are strange to so great
+a traveler as Lady Muriel Carey?" he said. "The papers here have been
+full of your wonderful adventures in South Africa."
+
+She laughed.
+
+"Everything shockingly exaggerated, of course," she declared. "I have
+really been plagued to death since I got here with interviewers, and
+that sort of person. I wonder if you know how glad I am to see you
+again?"
+
+"You are very kind, indeed," he said. "Certainly there was no one whom
+I expected less to see over here. You have come for the yacht races, I
+suppose?"
+
+She looked at him with a faint smile and raised eyebrows.
+
+"Come," she said, "shall we lie to one another? Is it worth while?
+Candour is so much more original."
+
+"Candour by all means then, I beg," he answered.
+
+"I have come over with the Dalkeiths, ostensibly to see the yacht races.
+Really I have come to see you."
+
+Mr. Sabin bowed.
+
+"I am delightfully flattered," he murmured.
+
+"I don't exactly mean for the pleasure of gazing into your face once
+more," she continued. "I have a mission!"
+
+Mr. Sabin looked up quickly.
+
+"Great heavens! You, too!" he exclaimed.
+
+She nodded.
+
+"Why not?" she asked coolly. "I have been in it for years, you know,
+and when I got back from South Africa everything seemed so terribly slow
+that I begged for some work to do."
+
+"And they sent you here--to me?"
+
+"Yes," she answered, "and I was here also a few weeks ago, but you must
+not ask me anything about that."
+
+Mr. Sabin's eyebrows contracted, his face darkened. She shrank a little
+away from him.
+
+"So it is you who have robbed me of her, then," he said slowly. "Yes,
+the description fits you well enough. I ask you, Lady Carey, to remember
+the last time when chance brought you and me together. Have I deserved
+this from you?"
+
+She made a little gesture of impotence.
+
+"Do be reasonable!" she begged. "What choice had I?"
+
+He looked at her steadfastly.
+
+"The folly of women--of clever women such as you," he said, "is
+absolutely amazing. You have deliberately made a slave of yourself--"
+
+"One must have distraction," she murmured.
+
+"Distraction! And so you play at this sort of thing. Is it worth while?"
+
+Her eyes for a moment clouded over with weariness.
+
+"When one has filled the cup of life to the brim for many years," she
+said, "what remains that is worth while?"
+
+He bowed.
+
+"You are a young woman," he said. "You should not yet have learned to
+speak with such bitterness. As for me--well, I am old indeed. In youth
+and age the affections claim us. I am approaching my second childhood."
+
+She laughed derisively, yet not unkindly. "What folly!" she exclaimed.
+
+"You are right," he admitted. "I suppose it is the fault of old
+associations."
+
+"In a few minutes," she said, smiling at him, "we should have become
+sentimental."
+
+"I," he admitted, "was floundering already."
+
+She shrugged her shoulders.
+
+"You talk as though sentiment were a bog."
+
+"There have been worse similes," he declared.
+
+"How horrid! And do you know, sir, for all your indignation you have not
+yet even inquired after your wife's health."
+
+"I trust," he said, "that she is well."
+
+"She is in excellent health."
+
+"Your second visit to this country," he remarked, "follows very swiftly
+upon your first."
+
+She nodded.
+
+"I am here," she said, "on your account."
+
+"You excite my interest," he declared. "May I know your mission?"
+
+"I have to remind you of your pledge," she said, "to assure you of
+Lucille's welfare, and to prevent your leaving the country."
+
+"Marvelous!" he exclaimed, with a slight mocking smile. "And may I ask
+what means you intend to employ to keep me here?"
+
+"Well," she said, "I have large discretionary powers. We have a very
+strong branch over on this side, but I would very much rather induce you
+to stay here without applying to them."
+
+"And the inducements?" he asked.
+
+She took a cigarette from a box which stood on the table and lit one.
+
+"Well," she said, "I might appeal to your hospitality, might I not? I am
+in a strange country which you have made your home. I want to be shown
+round. Do you remember dining with me one night at the Ambassador's? It
+was very hot, even for Paris, and we drove afterwards in the Bois. Ask
+me to dine with you here, won't you? I have never quite forgotten the
+last time."
+
+Mr. Sabin laughed softly, but with undisguised mirth.
+
+"Come," he said, "this is an excellent start. You are to play the Circe
+up to date, and I am to be beguiled. How ought I to answer you? I do
+remember the Ambassador's, and I do remember driving down the Bois in
+your victoria, and holding--I believe I am right--your hand. You have no
+right to disturb those charming memories by attempting to turn them into
+bathos."
+
+She blew out a little cloud of tobacco smoke, and watched it
+thoughtfully.
+
+"Ah!" she remarked. "I wonder who is better at that, you or I? I may not
+be exactly a sentimental person, but you--you are a flint."
+
+"On the contrary," Mr. Sabin assured her earnestly, "I am very much in
+love with my wife."
+
+"Dear me!" she exclaimed. "You carry originality to quixoticism. I have
+met several men before in my life whom I have suspected of such a thing,
+but I never heard any one confess it. This little domestic contretemps
+is then, I presume, disagreeable to you!"
+
+"To the last degree," Mr. Sabin asserted. "So much so that I leave for
+England by the Campania."
+
+She shook her head slowly.
+
+"I wouldn't if I were you."
+
+"Why not?"
+
+Lady Carey threw away the end of her cigarette, and looked for a moment
+thoughtfully at her long white fingers glittering with rings. Then she
+began to draw on her gloves.
+
+"Well, in the first place," she said, "Lucille will have no time
+to spare for you. You will be de trop in decidedly an uncomfortable
+position. You wouldn't find London at all a good place to live in just
+now, even if you ever got there--which I am inclined to doubt. And
+secondly, here am I--"
+
+"Circe!" he murmured.
+
+"Waiting to be entertained, in a strange country, almost friendless.
+I want to be shown everything, taken everywhere. And I am dying to see
+your home at Lenox. I do not think your attitude towards me in the least
+hospitable."
+
+"Come, you are judging me very quickly," he declared. "What
+opportunities have I had?"
+
+"What opportunities can there be if you sail by the Campania?"
+
+"You might dine with me to-night at least."
+
+"Impossible! The Dalkeiths have a party to meet me. Come too, won't you?
+They love dukes--even French ones."
+
+He shook his head.
+
+"There is no attraction for me in a large party," he answered. "I am
+getting to an age when to make conversation in return for a dinner seems
+scarcely a fair exchange."
+
+"From your host's point of view, or yours?"
+
+"From both! Besides, one's digestion suffers."
+
+"You are certainly getting old," she declared. "Come, I must go. You
+haven't been a bit nice to me. When shall I see you again?"
+
+"It is," he answered, "for you to say."
+
+She looked at him for a moment thoughtfully.
+
+"Supposing," she said, "that I cried off the yacht race to-day. Would
+you take me out to lunch?"
+
+He smiled.
+
+"My dear lady," he said, "it is for Circe to command--and for me to
+obey."
+
+"And you'll come and have tea with me afterwards at the Waldorf?"
+
+"That," Mr. Sabin declared, "will add still further to my happiness."
+
+"Will you call for me, then--and where shall we have lunch, and at
+what time? I must go and develop a headache at once, or that tiresome
+Dalkeith boy will be pounding at my door."
+
+"I will call for you at the Waldorf at half-past one," Mr. Sabin said.
+"Unless you have any choice, I will take you to a little place downtown
+where we can imagine ourselves back on the Continent, and where we shall
+be spared the horror of green corn."
+
+"Delightful," she murmured, buttoning her glove. "Then you shall take
+me for a drive to Fifth Avenue, or to see somebody's tomb, and my woman
+shall make some real Russian tea for us in my sitting-room. Really, I
+think I'm doing very well for the first day. Is the spell beginning to
+work?"
+
+"Hideously," he assured her. "I feel already that the only thing I dread
+in life are these two hours before luncheon."
+
+She nodded.
+
+"That is quite as it should be. Don't trouble to come down with me. I
+believe that Dalkeith pere is hanging round somewhere, and in view of my
+headache perhaps you had better remain in the background for the moment.
+At one-thirty, then!"
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled as she passed out of the room, and lit a cigarette.
+
+"I think," he said to himself, "that the arrival of Felix is opportune."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+They sat together at a small table, looking upon a scene which was
+probably unique in the history of the great restaurant. The younger man
+was both frankly interested and undoubtedly curious. Mr. Sabin, though
+his eyes seemed everywhere, retained to the full extent that nonchalance
+of manner which all his life he had so assiduously cultivated.
+
+"It is wonderful, my dear Felix," he said, leisurely drawing his
+cigarette-case from his pocket, "wonderful what good fellowship can
+be evolved by a kindred interest in sport, and a bottle or so of good
+champagne. But, after all, this is not to be taken seriously."
+
+"Shamrock the fourth! Shamrock the fourth!"
+
+A tall young American, his thick head of hair, which had once been
+carefully parted in the middle, a little disheveled, his hard, clean-cut
+face flushed with enthusiasm, had risen to his feet and stood with a
+brimming glass of champagne high over his head. Almost every one in the
+room rose to their feet. A college boy sprang upon a table with extended
+arms. The Yale shout split the room. The very glasses on the table
+rattled.
+
+"Columbia! Columbia!"
+
+It was an Englishman now who had leaped upon a vacant table with
+upraised glass. There was an answering roar of enthusiasm. Every one
+drank, and every one sat down again with a pleasant thrill of excitement
+at this unique scene. Felix leaned back in his chair and marveled.
+
+"One would have imagined," he murmured, "that America and England
+together were at war with the rest of the world and had won a great
+victory. To think that this is all the result of a yacht race. It is
+incredible!"
+
+"All your life, my dear Felix," Mr. Sabin remarked, "you have underrated
+the sporting instinct. It has a great place amongst the impulses of the
+world. See how it has brought these people together."
+
+"But they are already of the same kin," Felix remarked. "Their interests
+and aims are alike. Their destinies are surely identical."
+
+Mr. Sabin, who had lit his cigarette, watched the blue smoke curl
+upwards, and was thoughtful for a moment.
+
+"My dear Felix!" he said. "You are very, very young. The interests of
+two great nations such as America and England can never be alike. It is
+the language of diplomacy, but it is also the language of fools."
+
+Their conversation was for the moment interrupted by a fresh murmur of
+applause, rising above the loved hum of conversation, the laughter of
+women, and the popping of corks. A little troop of waiters had just
+wheeled into the room two magnificent models of yachts hewn out of
+blocks of solid ice and crowned with flowers. On the one were the Stars
+and Stripes, on the other the Shamrock and Thistle. There was much
+clapping of hands and cheering. Lady Carey, who was sitting at the next
+table with her back to them, joined in the applause so heartily that
+a tiny gold pencil attached to her bracelet became detached and rolled
+unobserved to Mr. Sabin's side. Felix half rose to pick it up, but was
+suddenly checked by a quick gesture from his companion.
+
+"Leave it," Mr. Sabin whispered. "I wish to return it myself."
+
+He stooped and picked it up, a certain stealthiness apparent in his
+movement. Felix watched him in amazement.
+
+"It is Lady Carey's, is it not?" he asked.
+
+"Yes. Be silent. I will give it back to her presently."
+
+A waiter served them with coffee. Mr. Sabin was idly sketching something
+on the back of his menu card. Felix broke into a little laugh as the man
+retired.
+
+"Mysterious as ever," he remarked.
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled quietly. He went on with his sketch.
+
+"I do not want," Felix said, "to seem impatient, but you must remember
+that I have come all the way from Europe in response to a very urgent
+message. As yet I have done nothing except form a very uncomfortable
+third at a luncheon and tea party, and listen to a good deal of
+enigmatic conversation between you and the charming Lady Carey. This
+evening I made sure that I should be enlightened. But no! You have given
+me a wonderful dinner--from you I expected it. We have eaten terrapin,
+canvas-back duck, and many other things the names of which alone were
+known to me. But of the reason for which you have summoned me here--I
+know nothing. Not one word have you spoken. I am beginning to fear from
+your avoidance of the subject that there is some trouble between you and
+Lucille. I beg that you will set my anxiety at rest."
+
+Mr. Sabin nodded.
+
+"It is reasonable," he said. "Look here!"
+
+He turned the menu card round. On the back he had sketched some sort of
+a device with the pencil which he had picked up, and which instead of
+black-lead contained a peculiar shade of yellow crayon. Felix sat as
+though turned to stone.
+
+"Try," Mr. Sabin said smoothly, "and avoid that air of tragedy. Some of
+these good people might be curious."
+
+Felix leaned across the table. He pointed to the menu card.
+
+"What does that mean?" he muttered.
+
+Mr. Sabin contemplated it himself thoughtfully. "Well," he said, "I
+rather thought that you might be able to explain that to me. I have
+an idea that there is a society in Europe--sort of aristocratic
+odd-fellows, you know--who had adopted it for their crest. Am I not
+right?"
+
+Felix looked at him steadfastly.
+
+"Tell me two things," he said. "First, why you sent for me, and
+secondly, what do you mean--by that?"
+
+"Lucille," Mr. Sabin said, "has been taken away from me."
+
+"Lucille! Great God!"
+
+"She has been taken away from me," Mr. Sabin said, "without a single
+word of warning."
+
+Felix pointed to the menu card.
+
+"By them?" he asked.
+
+"By them. It was a month ago. Two days before my cable."
+
+Felix was silent for several moments. He had not the self-command of his
+companion, and he feared to trust himself to speech.
+
+"She has been taken to Europe," Mr. Sabin continued. "I do not know, I
+cannot even guess at the reason. She left no word. I have been warned
+not to follow her."
+
+"You obey?"
+
+"I sail to-morrow."
+
+"And I?" Felix asked.
+
+Mr. Sabin looked for, a moment at the drawing on the back of the menu
+card, and up at Felix. Felix shook his head.
+
+"You must know," he said, "that I am powerless."
+
+"You may be able to help me," Mr. Sabin said, "without compromising
+yourself."
+
+"Impossible!" Felix declared. "But what did they want with Lucille?"
+
+"That," Mr. Sabin said, "is what I am desirous of knowing. It is what I
+trust that you, my dear Felix, may assist me to discover."
+
+"You are determined, then, to follow her?"
+
+Mr. Sabin helped himself to a liqueur from the bottle by his side.
+
+"My dear Felix," he said reproachfully, "you should know me better than
+to ask me such a question."
+
+Felix moved uneasily in his chair.
+
+"Of course," he said, "it depends upon how much they want to keep you
+apart. But you know that you are running great risks?"
+
+"Why, no," Mr. Sabin said. "I scarcely thought that. I have understood
+that the society was by no means in its former flourishing condition."
+
+Felix laughed scornfully.
+
+"They have never been," he answered, "richer or more powerful. During
+the last twelve months they have been active in every part of Europe."
+
+Mr. Sabin's face hardened.
+
+"Very well!" he said. "We will try their strength."
+
+"We!" Felix laughed shortly. "You forget that my hands are tied. I
+cannot help you or Lucille. You must know that."
+
+"You cannot interfere directly," Mr. Sabin admitted. "Yet you are
+Lucille's brother, and I am forced to appeal to you. If you will be my
+companion for a little while I think I can show you how you can help
+Lucille at any rate, and yet run no risk."
+
+The little party at the next table were breaking up at last. Lady Carey,
+pale and bored, with tired, swollen eyes--they were always a little
+prominent--rose languidly and began to gather together her belongings.
+As she did so she looked over the back of her chair and met Mr. Sabin's
+eyes. He rose at once and bowed. She cast a quick sidelong glance at her
+companions, which he at once understood.
+
+"I have the honour, Lady Carey," he said, "of recalling myself to your
+recollection. We met in Paris and London not so very many years ago. You
+perhaps remember the cardinal's dinner?"
+
+A slight smile flickered upon her lips. The man's adroitness always
+excited her admiration.
+
+"I remember it perfectly, and you, Duke," she answered. "Have you made
+your home on this side of the water?"
+
+Mr. Sabin shook his head slowly.
+
+"Home!" he repeated. "Ah, I was always a bird of passage, you remember.
+Yet I have spent three very delightful years in this country."
+
+"And I," she said, lowering her tone and leaning towards him, "one very
+stupid, idiotic day."
+
+Mr. Sabin assumed the look of a man who denies any personal
+responsibility in an unfortunate happening.
+
+"It was regrettable," he murmured, "but I assure you that it was
+unavoidable. Lucille's brother must have a certain claim upon me, and it
+was his first day in America."
+
+She was silent for a moment. Then she turned abruptly towards the door.
+Her friends were already on the way.
+
+"Come with me," she said. "I want to speak to you."
+
+He followed her out into the lobby. Felix came a few paces behind. The
+restaurant was still full of people, the hum of conversation almost
+drowning the music. Every one glanced curiously at Lady Carey, who was a
+famous woman. She carried herself with a certain insolent indifference,
+the national deportment of her sex and rank. The women whispered
+together that she was "very English."
+
+In the lobby she turned suddenly upon Mr. Sabin.
+
+"Will you take me back to my hotel?" she asked pointedly.
+
+"I regret that I cannot," he answered. "I have promised to show Felix
+some of the wonders of New York by night."
+
+"You can take him to-morrow."
+
+"To-morrow," Mr. Sabin said, "he leaves for the West."
+
+She looked closely into his impassive face.
+
+"I suppose that you are lying," she said shortly.
+
+"Your candour," he answered coldly, "sometimes approaches brutality."
+
+She leaned towards him, her face suddenly softened.
+
+"We are playing a foolish game with one another," she murmured. "I offer
+you an alliance, my friendship, perhaps my help."
+
+"What can I do," he answered gravely, "save be grateful--and accept?"
+
+"Then--"
+
+She stopped short. It was Mr. Sabin's luck which had intervened. Herbert
+Daikeith stood at her elbow.
+
+"Lady Carey," he said, "they're all gone but the mater and I. Forgive my
+interrupting you," he added hastily.
+
+"You can go on, Herbert," she added. "The Duc de Souspennier will bring
+me."
+
+Mr. Sabin, who had no intention of doing anything of the sort, turned
+towards the young man with a smile.
+
+"Lady Carey has not introduced us," he said, "but I have seen you at
+Ranelagh quite often. If you are still keen on polo you should have a
+try over here. I fancy you would find that these American youngsters can
+hold their own. All right, Felix, I am ready now. Lady Carey, I shall do
+myself the honour of waiting upon you early to-morrow morning, as I have
+a little excursion to propose. Good-night."
+
+She shrugged her shoulders ever so slightly as she turned away. Mr.
+Sabin smiled--faintly amused. He turned to Felix.
+
+"Come," he said, "we have no time to lose."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+"I regret," Mr. Sabin said to Felix as they sat side by side in the
+small coupe, "that your stay in this country will be so brief."
+
+"Indeed," Felix answered. "May I ask what you call brief?"
+
+Mr. Sabin looked out of the carriage window.
+
+"We are already," he said, "on the way to England."
+
+Felix laughed.
+
+"This," he said, "is like old times."
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled.
+
+"The system of espionage here," he remarked, "is painfully primitive. It
+lacks finesse and judgment. The fact that I have taken expensive rooms
+on the Campania, and that I have sent many packages there, that my
+own belongings are still in my rooms untouched, seems to our friends
+conclusive evidence that I am going to attempt to leave America by that
+boat. They have, I believe, a warrant for my arrest on some ridiculous
+charge which they intend to present at the last moment. They will not
+have the opportunity."
+
+"But there is no other steamer sailing to-morrow, is there?" Felix
+asked.
+
+"Not from New York," Mr. Sabin answered, "but it was never my intention
+to sail from New York. We are on our way to Boston now, and we sail in
+the Saxonia at six o'clock to-morrow morning."
+
+"We appear to be stopping at the Waldorf," Felix remarked.
+
+"It is quite correct," Mr. Sabin answered. "Follow me through the hall
+as quickly as possible. There is another carriage waiting at the other
+entrance, and I expect to find in it Duson and my dressing-case."
+
+They alighted and made their way though the crowded vestibules. At
+the Thirty-fourth Street entrance a carriage was drawn up. Duson was
+standing upon the pavement, his pale, nervous face whiter than ever
+under the electric light. Mr. Sabin stopped short.
+
+"Felix," he said, "one word. If by any chance things have gone wrong
+they will not have made any arrangements to detain you. Catch the
+midnight train to Boston and embark on the Saxonia. There will be
+a cable for you at Liverpool. But the moment you leave me send this
+despatch."
+
+Felix nodded and put the crumpled-up piece of paper in his pocket.
+The two men passed on. Duson took off his hat, but his fingers were
+trembling. The carriage door was opened and a tall, spare man descended.
+
+"This is Mr. Sabin?" he remarked.
+
+Mr. Sabin bowed.
+
+"That is my name," he admitted, "by which I have been generally called
+in this democratic country. What is your business with me?"
+
+"I rather guess that you're my prisoner," the man answered. "If you'll
+step right in here we can get away quietly."
+
+"The suggestion," Mr. Sabin remarked, "sounds inviting, but I am
+somewhat pressed for time. Might I inquire the nature of the charge you
+have against me?"
+
+"They'll tell you that at the office," the man answered. "Get in,
+please."
+
+Mr. Sabin looked around for Felix, but he had disappeared. He took out
+his cigarette-case.
+
+"You will permit me first to light a cigarette," he remarked.
+
+"All right! Only look sharp."
+
+Mr. Sabin kept silence in the carriage. The drive was a long one. When
+they descended he looked up at Duson, who sat upon the box.
+
+"Duson," he said, and his voice, though low, was terrible, "I see that I
+can be mistaken in men. You are a villain."
+
+The man sprung to his feet, hat in hand. His face was wrung with
+emotion.
+
+"Your Grace," he said, "it is true that I betrayed you. But I did it
+without reward. I am a ruined man. I did it because the orders which
+came to me were such as I dare not disobey. Here are your keys, your
+Grace, and money."
+
+Mr. Sabin looked at him steadily.
+
+"You, too, Duson?"
+
+"I too, alas, your Grace!"
+
+Mr. Sabin considered for a moment.
+
+"Duson," he said, "I retain you in my service. Take my luggage on board
+the Campania to-morrow afternoon, and pay the bill at the hotel. I shall
+join you on the boat."
+
+Duson was amazed. The man who was standing by laughed.
+
+"If you take my advice, sir," he remarked, "you'll order your clothes
+to be sent here. I've a kind of fancy the Campania will sail without you
+to-morrow."
+
+"You have my orders, Duson," Mr. Sabin said. "You can rely upon seeing
+me."
+
+The detective led the way into the building, and opened the door leading
+into a large, barely furnished office.
+
+"Chief's gone home for the night, I guess," he remarked. "We can fix up
+a shakedown for you in one of the rooms behind."
+
+"I thank you," Mr. Sabin said, sitting down in a high-backed wooden
+chair; "I decline to move until the charge against me is properly
+explained."
+
+"There is no one here to do it just now," the man answered. "Better make
+yourself comfortable for a bit."
+
+"You detain me here, then," Mr. Sabin said, "without even a sight of
+your warrant or any intimation as to the charge against me?"
+
+"Oh, the chief'll fix all that," the man answered. "Don't you worry."
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled.
+
+In a magnificently furnished apartment somewhere in the neighbourhood of
+Fifth Avenue a small party of men were seated round a card table piled
+with chips and rolls of bills. On the sideboard there was a great
+collection of empty bottles, spirit decanters and Vichy syphons. Mr.
+Horser was helping himself to brandy and water with one hand and holding
+himself up with the other. There was a knock at the door.
+
+A man who was still playing looked up. He was about fifty years of age,
+clean shaven, with vacuous eyes and a weak mouth. He was the host of the
+party.
+
+"Come in!" he shouted.
+
+A young man entered in a long black overcoat and soft hat. He looked
+about him without surprise, but he seemed to note Mr. Horser's presence
+with some concern. The man at the table threw down his cards.
+
+"What the devil do you want, Smith?"
+
+"An important despatch from Washington has just arrived, sir. I have
+brought it up with the codebook."
+
+"From Washington at this time of the night," he exclaimed thickly. "Come
+in here, Smith."
+
+He raised the curtains leading into a small anteroom, and turned up the
+electric light. His clerk laid the message down on the table before him.
+
+"Here is the despatch, Mr. Mace," he said, "and here is the
+translation."
+
+"English Ambassador demands immediate explanation of arrest of Duke
+Souspennier at Waldorf to-night. Reply immediately what charge and
+evidence. Souspennier naturalised Englishman."
+
+Mr. Mace sprang to his feet with an oath. He threw aside the curtain
+which shielded the room from the larger apartment.
+
+"Horser, come here, you damned fool!"
+
+Horser, with a stream of magnificent invectives, obeyed the summons. His
+host pointed to the message.
+
+"Read that!"
+
+Mr. Horser read and his face grew even more repulsive. A dull purple
+flush suffused his cheeks, his eyes were bloodshot, and the veins on his
+forehead stood out like cords. He leaned for several moments against the
+table and steadily cursed Mr. Sabin, the government at Washington, and
+something under his breath which he did not dare to name openly.
+
+"Oh, shut up!" his host said at last. "How the devil are we going to get
+out of this?"
+
+Mr. Horser left the room and returned with a tumbler full of brandy and
+a very little water.
+
+"Take a drink yourself," he said. "It'll steady you."
+
+"Oh, I'm steady enough," Mr. Mace replied impatiently. "I want to know
+how you're going to get us out of this. What was the charge, anyhow?"
+
+"Passing forged bills," Horser answered. "Parsons fixed it up."
+
+Mr. Mace turned a shade paler.
+
+"Where the devil's the sense in a charge like that?" he answered
+fiercely. "The man's a millionaire. He'll turn the tables on us nicely."
+
+"We've got to keep him till after the Campania sails, anyhow," Horser
+said doggedly.
+
+"We're not going to keep him ten minutes," Mace replied. "I'm going to
+sign the order for his release."
+
+Horser's speech was thick with drunken fury. "By --- I'll see that you
+don't!" he exclaimed.
+
+Mace turned upon him angrily.
+
+"You selfish fool!" he muttered. "You're not in the thing, anyhow. If
+you think I'm going to risk my position for the sake of one little job
+you're wrong. I shall go down myself and release him, with an apology."
+
+"He'll have his revenge all the same," Horser answered. "It's too late
+now to funk the thing. They can't budge you. We'll see to that. We hold
+New York in our hands. Be a man, Mace, and run a little risk. It's fifty
+thousand."
+
+Mace looked up at him curiously.
+
+"What do you get out of it, Horser?"
+
+Horser's face hardened.
+
+"Not one cent!" he declared fiercely. "Only if I fail it might be
+unpleasant for me next time I crossed."
+
+"I don't know!" Mace declared weakly. "I don't know what to do. It's
+twelve hours, Horser, and the charge is ridiculous."
+
+"You have me behind you."
+
+"I can't tell them that at Washington," Mace said.
+
+"It's a fact, all the same. Don't be so damned nervous."
+
+Mace dismissed his clerk, and found his other guests, too, on the point
+of departure. But the last had scarcely left before a servant entered
+with another despatch.
+
+"Release Souspennier."
+
+Mace handed it to his companion.
+
+"This settles it," he declared. "I shall go round and try and make my
+peace with the fellow."
+
+Horser stood in the way, burly, half-drunk and vicious. He struck his
+host in the face with clenched fist. Mace went down with scarcely a
+groan. A servant, hearing the fall, came hurrying back.
+
+"Your master is drunk and he has fallen down," Horser said. "Put him to
+bed--give him a sleeping draught if you've got one."
+
+The servant bent over the unconscious man.
+
+"Hadn't I better fetch a doctor, sir?" he asked. "I'm afraid he's hurt."
+
+"Not he!" Horser answered contemptuously. "He's cut his cheek a little,
+that's all. Put him to bed. Say I shall be round again by nine o'clock."
+
+Horser put on his coat and left the house. The morning sunlight was
+flooding the streets. Away down town Mr. Sabin was dozing in his
+high-backed chair.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+Felix, after an uneventful voyage, landed duly at Liverpool. To his
+amazement the first person he saw upon the quay was Mr. Sabin, leaning
+upon his stick and smoking a cigarette.
+
+"Come, come, Felix!" he exclaimed. "Don't look at me as though I were a
+ghost. You have very little confidence in me, after all, I see."
+
+"But--how did you get here?"
+
+"The Campania, of course. I had plenty of time. It was easy enough for
+those fellows to arrest me, but they never had a chance of holding me."
+
+"But how did you get away in time?"
+
+Mr. Sabin sighed.
+
+"It was very simple," he said. "One day, while one of those wonderful
+spies was sleeping on my doormat I slipped away and went over to
+Washington, saw the English Ambassador, convinced him of my bonafides,
+told him very nearly the whole truth. He promised if I wired him that I
+was arrested to take my case up at once. You sent the despatch, and he
+kept his word. I breakfasted on Saturday morning at the Waldorf, and
+though a great dray was driven into my carriage on the way to the boat,
+I escaped, as I always do--and here I am."
+
+"Unhurt!" Felix remarked with a smile, "as usual!"
+
+Mr. Sabin nodded.
+
+"The driver of my carriage was killed, and Duson had his arm broken,"
+he said. "I stepped out of the debris without a scratch. Come into the
+Customs House now and get your baggage through. I have taken a coupe on
+the special train and ordered lunch."
+
+Before long they were on the way to London. Mr. Sabin, whilst luncheon
+was being served, talked only of the lightest matters. But afterwards,
+when coffee was served and he had lit a cigarette, he leaned over
+towards Felix.
+
+"Felix," he said, "your sister is dear to you?"
+
+"She is the only creature on earth," Felix said, "whom I care for. She
+is very dear to me, indeed."
+
+"Am I right," Mr. Sabin asked, "in assuming that the old enmity between
+us is dead, that the last few years has wiped away the old soreness.
+
+"Yes," Felix answered. "I know that she was happy with you. That is
+enough for me."
+
+"You and I," Mr. Sabin continued, "must work out her salvation. Do not
+be afraid that I am going to ask you impossibilities. I know that our
+ways must lie apart. You can go to her at once. It may be many, many
+months before I can catch even a glimpse of her. Never mind. Let me
+feel that she has you within the circle, and I without, with our lives
+devoted to her."
+
+"You may rely upon that," Felix answered. "Wherever she is I am going. I
+shall be there. I will watch over her."
+
+Mr. Sabin sighed.
+
+"The more difficult task is mine," he said, "but I have no fear of
+failure. I shall find her surrounded by spies, by those who are now my
+enemies. Still, they will find it hard to shake me off. It may be that
+they took her from me only out of revenge. If that be so my task will be
+easier. If there are other dangers which she is called upon to face, it
+is still possible that they might accept my service instead."
+
+"You would give it?" Felix exclaimed.
+
+"To the last drop of blood in my body," Mr. Sabin answered. "Save for my
+love for her I am a dead man upon the earth. I have no longer politics
+or ambition. So the past can easily be expunged. Those who must be her
+guiding influence shall be mine."
+
+"You will win her back," Felix said. "I am sure of it."
+
+"I am willing to pay any price on earth," Mr. Sabin answered. "If they
+can forget the past I can. I want you to remember this. I want her to
+know it. I want them to know it. That is all, Felix."
+
+Mr. Sabin leaned back in his seat. He had left this country last a
+stricken and defeated man, left it with the echoes of his ruined schemes
+crashing in his ears. He came back to it a man with one purpose only,
+and that such a purpose as never before had guided him--the love of a
+woman. Was it a sign of age, he wondered, this return to the humanities?
+His life had been full of great schemes, he had wielded often a gigantic
+influence, more than once he had made history. And now the love of these
+things had gone from him. Their fascination was powerless to quicken by
+a single beat his steady pulse. Monarchy or republic--what did he care?
+It was Lucille he wanted, the woman who had shown him how sweet even
+defeat might be, who had made these three years of his life so happy
+that they seemed to have passed in one delightful dream. Were they dead,
+annihilated, these old ambitions, the old love of great doings, or did
+they only slumber? He moved in his seat uneasily.
+
+At Euston the two men separated with a silent handshake. Mr. Sabin
+drove to one of the largest and newest of the modern hotels de luxe. He
+entered his name as Mr. Sabin--the old exile's hatred of using his title
+in a foreign country had become a confirmed habit with him--and mingled
+freely with the crowds who thronged into the restaurant at night. There
+were many faces which he remembered, there were a few who remembered
+him. He neither courted nor shunned observation. He sat at dinner-time
+at a retired table, and found himself watching the people with a stir
+of pleasure. Afterwards he went round to a famous club, of which he had
+once been made a life member, but towards midnight he was wearied of the
+dull decorum of his surroundings, and returning to the hotel, sought
+the restaurant once more. The stream of people coming in to supper was
+greater even than at dinner-time. He found a small table, and ordered
+some oysters. The sight of this bevy of pleasure-seekers, all apparently
+with multitudes of friends, might have engendered a sense of loneliness
+in a man of different disposition. To Mr. Sabin his isolation was a
+luxury. He had an uninterrupted opportunity of pursuing his favourite
+study.
+
+There entered a party towards midnight, to meet whom the head-waiter
+himself came hurrying from the further end of the room, and whose
+arrival created a little buzz of interest. The woman who formed the
+central figure of the little group had for two years known no rival
+either at Court or in Society. She was the most beautiful woman in
+England, beautiful too with all the subtle grace of her royal descent.
+There were women upon the stage whose faces might have borne comparison
+with hers, but there was not one who in a room would not have sunk
+into insignificance by her side. Her movements, her carriage were
+incomparable--the inherited gifts of a race of women born in palaces.
+
+Mr. Sabin, who neither shunned nor courted observation, watched her with
+a grim smile which was not devoid of bitterness. Suddenly she saw him.
+With a little cry of wonder she came towards him with outstretched
+hands.
+
+"It is marvelous," she exclaimed. "You? Really you?"
+
+He bowed low over her hands.
+
+"It is I, dear Helene," he answered. "A moment ago I was dreaming. I
+thought that I was back once more at Versailles, and in the presence of
+my Queen."
+
+She laughed softly.
+
+"There may be no Versailles," she murmured, "but you will be a courtier
+to the end of your days."
+
+"At least," he said, "believe me that my congratulations come from my
+heart. Your happiness is written in your face, and your husband must be
+the proudest man in England."
+
+He was standing now by her side, and he held out his hand to Mr. Sabin.
+
+"I hope, sir," he said pleasantly, "that you bear me no ill-will."
+
+"It would be madness," Mr. Sabin answered. "To be the most beautiful
+peeress in England is perhaps for Helene a happier fate than to be the
+first queen of a new dynasty."
+
+"And you, uncle?" Helene said. "You are back from your exile then. How
+often I have felt disposed to smile when I thought of you, of all men,
+in America."
+
+"I went into exile," Mr. Sabin answered, "and I found paradise. The
+three years which have passed since I saw you last have been the
+happiest of my life."
+
+"Lucille!" Helene exclaimed.
+
+"Is my wife," Mr. Sabin answered.
+
+"Delightful!" Helene murmured. "She is with you then, I hope. Indeed, I
+felt sure that I saw her the other night at the opera."
+
+"At the opera!" Mr. Sabin for a moment was silent. He would have been
+ashamed to confess that his heart was beating strongly, that a crowd
+of eager questions trembled upon his lips. He recovered himself after a
+moment.
+
+"Lucille is not with me for the moment," he said in measured tones. "I
+am detaining you from your guests, Helene. If you will permit me I will
+call upon you."
+
+"Won't you join us?" Lord Camperdown asked courteously. "We are only
+a small party--the Portuguese Ambassador and his wife, the Duke of
+Medchester, and Stanley Phillipson."
+
+Mr. Sabin rose at once.
+
+"I shall be delighted," he said.
+
+Lord Camperdown hesitated for a moment.
+
+"I present Monsieur le Due de Souspennier, I presume?" he remarked,
+smiling.
+
+Mr. Sabin bowed.
+
+"I am Mr. Sabin," he said, "at the hotels and places where one travels.
+To my friends I have no longer an incognito. It is not necessary."
+
+It was a brilliant little supper party, and Mr. Sabin contributed at
+least his share to the general entertainment. Before they dispersed he
+had to bring out his tablets to make notes of his engagements. He stood
+on the top of the steps above the palm-court to wish them good-bye,
+leaning on his stick. Helene turned back and waved her hand.
+
+"He is unchanged," she murmured, "yet I fear that there must be
+trouble."
+
+"Why? He seemed cheerful enough," her husband remarked.
+
+She dropped her voice a little.
+
+"Lucille is in London. She is staying at Dorset House."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+Mr. Sabin was deep in thought. He sat in an easy-chair with his back to
+the window, his hands crossed upon his stick, his eyes fixed upon the
+fire. Duson was moving noiselessly about the room, cutting the morning's
+supply of newspapers and setting them out upon the table. His master
+was in a mood which he had been taught to respect. It was Mr. Sabin who
+broke the silence.
+
+"Duson!"
+
+"Your Grace!"
+
+"I have always, as you know, ignored your somewhat anomalous position as
+the servant of one man and the slave of a society. The questions which
+I am about to ask you you can answer or not, according to your own
+apprehensions of what is due to each."
+
+"I thank your Grace!"
+
+"My departure from America seemed to incite the most violent opposition
+on the part of your friends. As you know, it was with a certain amount
+of difficulty that I reached this country. Now, however, I am left
+altogether alone. I have not received a single warning letter. My
+comings and goings, although purposely devoid of the slightest secrecy,
+are absolutely undisturbed. Yet I have some reason to believe that your
+mistress is in London."
+
+"Your Grace will pardon me," Duson said, "but there is outside a
+gentleman waiting to see you to whom you might address the same
+questions with better results, for compared with him I know nothing. It
+is Monsieur Felix."
+
+"Why have you kept him waiting?" Mr. Sabin asked.
+
+"Your Grace was much absorbed," Duson answered.
+
+Felix was smoking a cigarette, and Mr. Sabin greeted him with a certain
+grim cordiality.
+
+"Is this permitted--this visit?" he asked, himself selecting a cigarette
+and motioning his guest to a chair.
+
+"It is even encouraged," Felix answered.
+
+"You have perhaps some message?"
+
+"None."
+
+"I am glad to see you," Mr. Sabin said. "Just now I am a little puzzled.
+I will put the matter to you. You shall answer or not, at your own
+discretion."
+
+"I am ready," Felix declared.
+
+"You know the difficulty with which I escaped from America," Mr. Sabin
+continued. "Every means which ingenuity could suggest seemed brought to
+bear against me. And every movement was directed, if not from here, from
+some place in Europe. Well, I arrived here four days ago. I live quite
+openly, I have even abjured to some extent my incognito. Yet I have not
+received even a warning letter. I am left absolutely undisturbed."
+
+Felix looked at him thoughtfully.
+
+"And what do you deduce from this?" he asked.
+
+"I do not like it," Mr. Sabin answered drily.
+
+"After all," Felix remarked, "it is to some extent natural. The very
+openness of your life here makes interference with you more difficult,
+and as to warning letters--well, you have proved the uselessness of
+them."
+
+"Perhaps," Mr. Sabin answered. "At the same time, if I were a
+superstitious person I should consider this inaction ominous."
+
+"You must take account also," Felix said, "of the difference in the
+countries. In England the police system, if not the most infallible
+in the world, is certainly the most incorruptible. There was never a
+country in which security of person and life was so keenly watched over
+as here. In America, up to a certain point, a man is expected to look
+after himself. The same feeling does not prevail here."
+
+Mr. Sabin assented.
+
+"And therefore," he remarked, "for the purposes of your friends I should
+consider this a difficult and unpromising country in which to work."
+
+"Other countries, other methods!" Felix remarked laconically.
+
+"Exactly! It is the new methods which I am anxious to discover," Mr.
+Sabin said. "No glimmering of them as yet has been vouchsafed to me. Yet
+I believe that I am right in assuming that for the moment London is the
+headquarters of your friends, and that Lucille is here?"
+
+"If that is meant for a question," Felix said, "I may not answer it."
+
+Mr. Sabin nodded.
+
+"Yet," he suggested, "your visit has an object. To discover my plans
+perhaps! You are welcome to them."
+
+Felix thoughtfully knocked the ashes off his cigarette.
+
+"My visit had an object," he admitted, "but it was a personal one. I am
+not actually concerned in the doings of those whom you have called my
+friends."
+
+"We are alone," Mr. Sabin reminded him. "My time is yours."
+
+"You and I," Felix said, "have had our periods of bitter enmity. With
+your marriage to Lucille these, so far as I am concerned, ended for
+ever. I will even admit that in my younger days I was prejudiced against
+you. That has passed away. You have been all your days a bold and
+unscrupulous schemer, but ends have at any rate been worthy ones. To-day
+I am able to regard you with feelings of friendliness. You are the
+husband of my dear sister, and for years I know that you made her very
+happy. I ask you, will you believe in this statement of my attitude
+towards you?"
+
+"I do not for a single moment doubt it," Mr. Sabin answered.
+
+"You will regard the advice which I am going to offer as disinterested?"
+
+"Certainly!"
+
+"Then I offer it to you earnestly, and with my whole heart. Take the
+next steamer and go back to America."
+
+"And leave Lucille? Go without making any effort to see her?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+Mr. Sabin was for a moment very serious indeed. The advice given in such
+a manner was full of forebodings to him. The lines from the corners of
+his mouth seemed graven into his face.
+
+"Felix," he said slowly, "I am sometimes conscious of the fact that I am
+passing into that period of life which we call old age. My ambitions are
+dead, my energies are weakened. For many years I have toiled--the time
+has come for rest. Of all the great passions which I have felt there
+remains but one--Lucille. Life without her is worth nothing to me. I am
+weary of solitude, I am weary of everything except Lucille. How then
+can I listen to such advice? For me it must be Lucille, or that little
+journey into the mists, from which one does not return."
+
+Felix was silent. The pathos of this thing touched him.
+
+"I will not dispute the right of those who have taken her from me," Mr.
+Sabin continued, "but I want her back. She is necessary to me. My purse,
+my life, my brains are there to be thrown into the scales. I will buy
+her, or fight for her, or rejoin their ranks myself. But I want her
+back."
+
+Still Felix was silent. He was looking steadfastly into the fire.
+
+"You have heard me," Mr. Sabin said.
+
+"I have heard you," Felix answered. "My advice stands."
+
+"I know now," Mr. Sabin said, "that I have a hard task before me. They
+shall have me for a friend or an enemy. I can still make myself felt as
+either. You have nothing more to say?"
+
+"Nothing!"
+
+"Then let us part company," Mr. Sabin said, "or talk of something more
+cheerful. You depress me, Felix. Let Duson bring us wine. You look like
+a death's head."
+
+Felix roused himself.
+
+"You will go your own way," he said. "Now that you have chosen I will
+tell you this. I am glad. Yes, let Duson bring wine. I will drink to
+your health and to your success. There have been times when men have
+performed miracles. I shall drink to that miracle."
+
+Duson brought also a letter, which Mr. Sabin, with a nod towards Felix,
+opened. It was from Helene.
+
+     "15 Park Lane, London,
+     "Thursday Morning.
+
+     "My DEAR UNCLE,--
+
+     "I want you to come to luncheon to-day.  The Princess de Catelan is
+     here, and I am expecting also Mr. Brott, the Home Secretary--our
+     one great politician, you know.  Many people say that he is the
+     most interesting man in England, and must be our next Prime Minister.
+     Such people interest you, I know.  Do come.
+
+                                                  "Yours sincerely,
+                                                       "HELENE."
+
+Mr. Sabin repeated the name to himself as he stood for a moment with the
+letter in his hand.
+
+"Brott! What a name for a statesman! Well, here is your health, Felix. I
+do not often drink wine in the morning, but--"
+
+He broke off in the middle of his sentence. The glass which Felix had
+been in the act of raising to his lips lay shattered upon the floor, and
+a little stream of wine trickled across the carpet. Felix himself seemed
+scarcely conscious of the disaster. His cheeks were white, and he leaned
+across the table towards Mr. Sabin.
+
+"What name did you say--what name?"
+
+Mr. Sabin referred again to the letter which he held in his hand.
+
+"Brott!" he repeated. "He is Home Secretary, I believe."
+
+"What do you know about him?"
+
+"Nothing," Mr. Sabin answered. "My niece, the Countess of Camperdown,
+asks me to meet him to-day at luncheon. Explain yourself, my young
+friend. There is a fresh glass by your side."
+
+Felix poured himself out a glass and drank it off. But he remained
+silent.
+
+"Well?"
+
+Felix picked up his gloves and stick.
+
+"You are asked to meet Mr. Brott at luncheon to-day?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Are you going?"
+
+"Certainly!"
+
+Felix nodded.
+
+"Very good," he said. "I should advise you to cultivate his
+acquaintance. He is a very extraordinary man."
+
+"Come, Felix," Mr. Sabin said. "You owe me something more lucid in the
+way of explanations. Who is he?"
+
+"A statesman--successful, ambitious. He expects to be Prime Minister."
+
+"And what have I to do with him, or he with me?" Mr. Sabin asked
+quietly.
+
+Felix shook his head.
+
+"I cannot tell you," he said. "Yet I fancy that you and he may some time
+be drawn together."
+
+Mr. Sabin asked no more questions, but he promptly sat down and accepted
+his niece's invitation. When he looked round Felix had gone. He rang the
+bell for Duson and handed him the note.
+
+"My town clothes, Duson," he ordered. "I am lunching out."
+
+The man bowed and withdrew. Mr. Sabin remained for a few moments in deep
+thought.
+
+"Brott!" he repeated. "Brott! It is a singular name."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+So this was the man! Mr. Sabin did not neglect his luncheon, nor was he
+ever for a moment unmindful of the grey-headed princess who chatted away
+by his side with all the vivacity of her race and sex. But he watched
+Mr. Brott.
+
+A man this! Mr. Sabin was a judge, and he appraised him rightly. He saw
+through that courteous geniality of tone and gesture; the ready-made
+smile, although it seemed natural enough, did not deceive him.
+Underneath was a man of iron, square-jawed, nervous, forceful. Mr. Brott
+was probably at that time the ablest politician of either party in the
+country. Mr. Sabin knew it. He found himself wondering exactly at what
+point of their lives this man and he would come into contact.
+
+After luncheon Helene brought them together.
+
+"I believe," she said to Mr. Brott, "that you have never met my UNCLE.
+May I make you formally acquainted? UNCLE, this is Mr. Brott, whom
+you must know a great deal about even though you have been away for so
+long--the Duc de Souspennier."
+
+The two men bowed and Helene passed on. Mr. Sabin leaned upon his stick
+and watched keenly for any sign in the other's face. If he expected to
+find it he was disappointed. Either this man had no knowledge of who he
+was, or those things which were to come between them were as yet unborn.
+
+They strolled together after the other guests into the winter gardens,
+which were the envy of every hostess in London. Mr. Sabin lit a
+cigarette, Mr. Brott regretfully declined. He neither smoked nor drank
+wine. Yet he was disposed to be friendly, and selected a seat where they
+were a little apart from the other guests.
+
+"You at least," he remarked, in answer to an observation of Mr. Sabin's,
+"are free from the tyranny of politics. I am assuming, of course, that
+your country under its present form of government has lost its hold upon
+you."
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled.
+
+"It is a doubtful boon," he said. "It is true that I am practically an
+exile. Republican France has no need of me. Had I been a soldier I could
+still have remained a patriot. But for one whose leanings were towards
+politics, neither my father before me nor I could be of service to our
+country. You should be thankful," he continued with a slight smile,
+"that you are an Englishman. No constitution in the world can offer so
+much to the politician who is strong enough and fearless enough."
+
+Mr. Brott glanced towards his twinkling eyes.
+
+"Do you happen to know what my politics are?" he asked.
+
+Mr. Sabin hesitated.
+
+"Your views, I know, are advanced," he said. "For the rest I have
+been abroad for years. I have lost touch a little with affairs in this
+country."
+
+"I am afraid," Mr. Brott said, "that I shall shock you. You are an
+aristocrat of the aristocrats, I a democrat of the democrats. The people
+are the only masters whom I own. They first sent me to Parliament."
+
+"Yet," Mr. Sabin remarked, "you are, I understand, in the Cabinet."
+
+Mr. Brott glanced for a moment around. The Prime Minister was somewhere
+in the winter gardens.
+
+"That," he declared, "is an accident. I happened to be the only man
+available who could do the work when Lord Kilbrooke died. I am telling
+you only what is an open secret. But I am afraid I am boring you. Shall
+we join the others?"
+
+"Not unless you yourself are anxious to," Mr. Sabin begged. "It is
+scarcely fair to detain you talking to an old man when there are so many
+charming women here. But I should be sorry for you to think me hidebound
+in my prejudices. You must remember that the Revolution decimated my
+family. It was a long time ago, but the horror of it is still a live
+thing."
+
+"Yet it was the natural outcome," Mr. Brott said, "of the things
+which went before. Such hideous misgovernment as generations of your
+countrymen had suffered was logically bound to bring its own reprisal."
+
+"There is truth in what you say," Mr. Sabin admitted. He did not want to
+talk about the French Revolution.
+
+"You are a stranger in London, are you not?" Mr. Brott asked.
+
+"I feel myself one," Mr. Sabin answered. "I have been away for a few
+years, and I do not think that there is a city in the world where social
+changes are so rapid. I should perhaps except the cities of the country
+from which I have come. But then America is a universe of itself."
+
+For an instant Mr. Brott gave signs of the man underneath. The air of
+polite interest had left his face. He glanced swiftly and keenly at his
+companion. Mr. Sabin's expression was immutable. It was he who scored,
+for he marked the change, whilst Mr. Brott could not be sure whether he
+had noticed it or not.
+
+"You have been living in America, then?"
+
+"For several years--yes."
+
+"It is a country," Mr. Brott said, "which I am particularly anxious to
+visit. I see my chances, however, grow fewer and fewer as the years go
+by."
+
+"For one like yourself," Mr. Sabin said, "whose instincts and sympathies
+are wholly with the democracy, a few months in America would be very
+well spent."
+
+"And you," Mr. Brott remarked, "how did you get on with the people?"
+
+Mr. Sabin traced a pattern with his stick upon the marble floor.
+
+"I lived in the country," he said, "I played golf and read and rested."
+
+"Were you anywhere near New York?" Mr. Brott asked.
+
+"A few hours' journey only," Mr. Sabin answered. "My home was in a very
+picturesque part, near Lenox."
+
+Mr. Brott leaned a little forward.
+
+"You perhaps know then a lady who spent some time in that
+neighbourhood--a Mrs. James Peterson. Her husband was, I believe, the
+American consul in Vienna."
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled very faintly. His face betrayed no more than a natural
+and polite interest. There was nothing to indicate the fact that his
+heart was beating like the heart of a young man, that the blood was
+rushing hot through his veins.
+
+"Yes," he said, "I know her very well. Is she in London?"
+
+Mr. Brott hesitated. He seemed a little uncertain how to continue.
+
+"To tell you the truth," he said, "I believe that she has reasons for
+desiring her present whereabouts to remain unknown. I should perhaps not
+have mentioned her name at all. It was, I fancy, indiscreet of me. The
+coincidence of hearing you mention the name of the place where I believe
+she resided surprised my question. With your permission we will abandon
+the subject."
+
+"You disappoint me," Mr. Sabin said quietly. "It would have given
+me much pleasure to have resumed my acquaintance with the lady in
+question."
+
+"You will, without doubt, have an opportunity," Mr. Brott said, glancing
+at his watch and suddenly rising. "Dear me, how the time goes."
+
+He rose to his feet. Mr. Sabin also rose.
+
+"Must I understand," he said in a low tone, "that you are not at liberty
+to give me Mrs. Peterson's address?"
+
+"I am not at liberty even," Mr. Brott answered, with a frown, "to
+mention her name. It will give me great pleasure, Duke, to better my
+acquaintance with you. Will you dine with me at the House of Commons one
+night next week?"
+
+"I shall be charmed," Mr. Sabin answered. "My address for the next
+few days is at the Carlton. I am staying there under my family name of
+Sabin--Mr. Sabin. It is a fancy of mine--it has been ever since I became
+an alien--to use my title as little as possible."
+
+Mr. Brott looked for a moment puzzled.
+
+"Your pseudonym," he remarked thoughtfully, "seems very familiar to me."
+
+Mr. Sabin shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"It is a family name," he remarked, "but I flattered myself that it was
+at least uncommon."
+
+"Fancy, no doubt," Mr. Brott remarked, turning to make his adieux to his
+hostess.
+
+Mr. Sabin joined a fresh group of idlers under the palms. Mr. Brott
+lingered over his farewells.
+
+"Your UNCLE, Lady Camperdown," he said, "is delightful. I enjoy meeting
+new types, and he represents to me most perfectly the old order of
+French aristocracy."
+
+"I am glad," Helene said, "that you found him interesting. I felt sure
+you would. In fact, I asked him especially to meet you."
+
+"You are the most thoughtful of hostesses," he assured her. "By the bye,
+your UNCLE has just told me the name by which he is known at the hotel.
+Mr. Sabin! Sabin! It recalls something to my mind. I cannot exactly
+remember what."
+
+She smiled upon him. People generally forgot things when Helene smiled.
+
+"It is an odd fancy of his to like his title so little," she remarked.
+"At heart no one is prouder of their family and antecedents. I have
+heard him say, though, that an exile had better leave behind him even
+his name."
+
+"Sabin!" Mr. Brott repeated. "Sabin!"
+
+"It is an old family name," she murmured.
+
+His face suddenly cleared. She knew that he had remembered. But he took
+his leave with no further reference to it.
+
+"Sabin!" he repeated to himself when alone in his carriage. "That was
+the name of the man who was supposed to be selling plans to the German
+Government. Poor Renshaw was in a terrible stew about it. Sabin! An
+uncommon name."
+
+He had ordered the coachman to drive to the House of Commons. Suddenly
+he pulled the check-string.
+
+"Call at Dorset House," he directed.
+
+      *          *            *          *            *
+
+Mr. Sabin lingered till nearly the last of the guests had gone. Then he
+led Helene once more into the winter gardens.
+
+"May I detain you for one moment's gossip?" he asked. "I see your
+carriage at the door."
+
+She laughed.
+
+"It is nothing," she declared. "I must drive in the Park for an hour.
+One sees one's friends, and it is cool and refreshing after these heated
+rooms. But at any time. Talk to me as long as you will, and then I will
+drop you at the Carlton."
+
+"It is of Brott!" he remarked. "Ah, I thank you, I will smoke. Your
+husband's taste in cigarettes is excellent."
+
+"Perhaps mine!" she laughed.
+
+Mr. Sabin shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"In either case I congratulate you. This man Brott. He interests me."
+
+"He interests every one. Why not? He is a great personality."
+
+"Politically," Mr. Sabin said, "the gauge of his success is of course
+the measure of the man. But he himself--what manner of a man is he?"
+
+She tapped with her fingers upon the little table by their side.
+
+"He is rich," she said, "and an uncommon mixture of the student and the
+man of society. He refuses many more invitations than he accepts, he
+entertains very seldom but very magnificently. He has never been known
+to pay marked attentions to any woman, even the scandal of the clubs has
+passed him by. What else can I say about him, I wonder?" she continued
+reflectively. "Nothing, I think, except this. He is a strong man. You
+know that that counts for much."
+
+Mr. Sabin was silent. Perhaps he was measuring his strength in some
+imagined encounter with this man. Something in his face alarmed Helene.
+She suddenly leaned forward and looked at him more closely.
+
+"UNCLE," she exclaimed in a low voice, "there is something on your mind.
+Do not tell me that once more you are in the maze, that again you have
+schemes against this country."
+
+He smiled at her sadly enough, but she was reassured.
+
+"You need have no fear," he told her. "With politics--I have finished.
+Why I am here, what I am here for I will tell you very soon. It is to
+find one whom I have lost--and who is dear to me. Forgive me if for
+to-day I say no more. Come, if you will you shall drive me to my hotel."
+
+He offered his arm with the courtly grace which he knew so well how to
+assume. Together they passed out to her carriage.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+"After all," Lady Carey sighed, throwing down a racing calendar
+and lighting a cigarette, "London is the only thoroughly civilized
+Anglo-Saxon capital in the world. Please don't look at me like that,
+Duchess. I know--this is your holy of holies, but the Duke smokes
+here--I've seen him. My cigarettes are very tiny and very harmless."
+
+The Duchess, who wore gold-rimmed spectacles, and was a person of
+weight in the councils of the Primrose League, went calmly on with her
+knitting.
+
+"My dear Muriel," she said, "if my approval or disapproval was of the
+slightest moment to you, it is not your smoking of which I should first
+complain. I know, however, that you consider yourself a privileged
+person. Pray do exactly as you like, but don't drop the ashes upon the
+carpet."
+
+Lady Carey laughed softly.
+
+"I suppose I am rather a thorn in your side as a relative," she
+remarked. "You must put it down to the roving blood of my ancestors. I
+could no more live the life of you other women than I could fly. I must
+have excitement, movement, all the time."
+
+A tall, heavily built man, who had been reading some letters at the
+other end of the room, came sauntering up to them.
+
+"Well," he said, "you assuredly live up to your principles, for you
+travel all over the world as though it were one vast playground."
+
+"And sometimes," she remarked, "my journeys are not exactly successful.
+I know that that is what you are dying to say."
+
+"On the contrary," he said, "I do not blame you at all for this last
+affair. You brought Lucille here, which was excellent. Your failure as
+regards Mr. Sabin is scarcely to be fastened upon you. It is Horser whom
+we hold responsible for that."
+
+She laughed.
+
+"Poor Horser! It was rather rough to pit a creature like that against
+Souspennier."
+
+The man shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"Horser," he said, "may not be brilliant, but he had a great
+organisation at his back. Souspennier was without friends or influence.
+The contest should scarcely have been so one-sided. To tell you the
+truth, my dear Muriel, I am more surprised that you yourself should have
+found the task beyond you."
+
+Lady Carey's face darkened.
+
+"It was too soon after the loss of Lucille," she said, "and besides,
+there was his vanity to be reckoned with. It was like a challenge to
+him, and he had taken up the glove before I returned to New York."
+
+The Duchess looked up from her work.
+
+"Have you had any conversation with my husband, Prince?" she asked.
+
+The Prince of Saxe Leinitzer twirled his heavy moustache and sank into a
+chair between the two women.
+
+"I have had a long talk with him," he announced. "And the result?" the
+Duchess asked.
+
+"The result I fear you would scarcely consider satisfactory," the Prince
+declared. "The moment that I hinted at the existence of--er--conditions
+of which you, Duchess, are aware, he showed alarm, and I had all that
+I could do to reassure him. I find it everywhere amongst your
+aristocracy--this stubborn confidence in the existence of the reigning
+order of things, this absolute detestation of anything approaching
+intrigue."
+
+"My dear man, I hope you don't include me," Lady Carey exclaimed.
+
+"You, Lady Muriel," he answered, with a slow smile, "are an exception to
+all rules. No, you are a rule by yourself."
+
+"To revert to the subject then for a moment," the Duchess said stiffly.
+"You have made no progress with the Duke?"
+
+"None whatever," Saxe Leinitzer admitted. "He was sufficiently emphatic
+to inspire me with every caution. Even now I have doubts as to whether
+I have altogether reassured him. I really believe, dear Duchess, that we
+should be better off if you could persuade him to go and live upon his
+estates."
+
+The Duchess smiled grimly.
+
+"Whilst the House of Lords exists," she remarked, "you will never
+succeed in keeping Algernon away from London. He is always on the point
+of making a speech, although he never does it."
+
+"I have heard of that speech," Lady Carey drawled, from her low seat.
+"It is to be a thoroughly enlightening affair. All the great social
+questions are to be permanently disposed of. The Prime Minister will
+come on his knees and beg Algernon to take his place."
+
+The Duchess looked up over her knitting.
+
+"Algernon is at least in earnest," she remarked drily. "And he has the
+good conscience of a clean living and honest man."
+
+"What an unpleasant possession it must be," Lady Carey remarked sweetly.
+"I disposed of my conscience finally many years ago. I am not sure, but
+I believe that it was the Prince to whom I entrusted the burying of it.
+By the bye, Lucille will be here directly, I suppose. Is she to be told
+of Souspennier's arrival in London?"
+
+"I imagine," the Prince said, with knitted brows, "that it will not be
+wise to keep it from her. It is impossible to conceal her whereabouts,
+and the papers will very shortly acquaint her with his."
+
+"And," Lady Carey asked, "how does the little affair progress?"
+
+"Admirably," the Prince answered. "Already some of the Society papers
+are beginning to chatter about the friendship existing between a Cabinet
+Minister and a beautiful Hungarian lady of title, etc., etc. The fact of
+it is that Brott is in deadly earnest. He gives himself away every time.
+If Lucille has not lost old cleverness she will be able to twist him
+presently around her little finger."
+
+"If only some one would twist him on the rack," the Duchess murmured
+vindictively. "I tried to read one of his speeches the other day. It was
+nothing more nor less than blasphemy. I do not think that I am naturally
+a cruel woman, but I would hand such men over to the public executioner
+with joy."
+
+Lucille came in, as beautiful as ever, but with tired lines under her
+full dark eyes. She sank into a low chair with listless grace.
+
+"Reginald Brott again, I suppose," she remarked curtly. "I wish the man
+had never existed."
+
+"That is a very cruel speech, Lucille," the Prince said, with a
+languishing glance towards her, "for if it had not been for Brott we
+should never have dared to call you out from your seclusion."
+
+"Then more heartily than ever," Lucille declared, "I wish the man had
+never been born. You cannot possibly flatter yourself, Prince, that your
+summons was a welcome one."
+
+He shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"I shall never, be able to believe," he said, "that the Countess
+Radantz was able to do more than support existence in a small American
+town--without society, with no scope for her ambitions, detached
+altogether from the whole civilized world."
+
+"Which only goes to prove, Prince," Lucille remarked contemptuously,
+"that you do not understand me in the least. As a place of residence
+Lenox would compare very favourably with--say Homburg, and for
+companionship you forget my husband. I never met the woman yet who did
+not prefer the company of one man, if only it were the right one, to the
+cosmopolitan throng we call society."
+
+"It sounds idyllic, but very gauche," Lady Carey remarked drily. "In
+effect it is rather a blow on the cheek for you, Prince. Of course you
+know that the Prince is in love with you, Lucille?"
+
+"I wish he were," she answered, looking lazily out of the window.
+
+He bent over her.
+
+"Why?"
+
+"I would persuade him to send me home again," she answered coldly.
+
+The Duchess looked up from her knitting. "Your husband has saved you the
+journey," she remarked, "even if you were able to work upon the Prince's
+good nature to such an extent."
+
+Lucille started round eagerly.
+
+"What do you mean?" she cried.
+
+"Your husband is in London," the Duchess answered.
+
+Lucille laughed with the gaiety of a child. Like magic the lines from
+beneath her eyes seemed to have vanished. Lady Carey watched her with
+pale cheeks and malevolent expression.
+
+"Come, Prince," she cried mockingly, "it was only a week ago that you
+assured me that my husband could not leave America. Already he is in
+London. I must go to see him. Oh, I insist upon it."
+
+Saxe Leinitzer glanced towards the Duchess. She laid down her knitting.
+
+"My dear Countess," she said firmly, "I beg that you will listen to me
+carefully. I speak to you for your own good, and I believe I may add,
+Prince, that I speak with authority."
+
+"With authority!" the Prince echoed.
+
+"We all," the Duchess continued, "look upon your husband's arrival as
+inopportune and unfortunate. We are all agreed that you must be kept
+apart. Certain obligations have been laid upon you. You could not
+possibly fulfil them with a husband at your elbow. The matter will be
+put plainly before your husband, as I am now putting it before you. He
+will be warned not to attempt to see or communicate with you as your
+husband. If he or you disobey the consequences will be serious."
+
+Lucille shrugged her shoulders.
+
+"It is easy to talk," she said, "but you will not find it easy to keep
+Victor away when he has found out where I am."
+
+The Prince intervened.
+
+"We have no objection to your meeting," he said, "but it must be as
+acquaintances. There must be no intermission or slackening in your task,
+and that can only be properly carried out by the Countess Radantz and
+from Dorset House."
+
+Lucille smothered her disappointment.
+
+"Dear me," she said. "You will find Victor a little hard to persuade."
+
+There was a moment's silence. Then the Prince spoke slowly, and watching
+carefully the effect of his words upon Lucille.
+
+"Countess," he said, "it has been our pleasure to make of your task so
+far as possible a holiday. Yet perhaps it is wiser to remind you that
+underneath the glove is an iron hand. We do not often threaten, but
+we brook no interference. We have the means to thwart it. I bear no
+ill-will to your husband, but to you I say this. If he should be so mad
+as to defy us, to incite you to disobedience, he must pay the penalty."
+
+A servant entered.
+
+"Mr. Reginald Brott is in the small drawing-room, your Grace," he
+announced. "He enquired for the Countess Radantz."
+
+Lucille rose. When the servant had disappeared she turned round for a
+moment, and faced the Prince. A spot of colour burned in her cheeks, her
+eyes were bright with anger.
+
+"I shall remember your words, Prince," she said. "So far from mine
+being, however, a holiday task, it is one of the most wearisome and
+unpleasant I ever undertook. And in return for your warnings let me tell
+you this. If you should bring any harm upon my husband you shall answer
+for it all your days to me. I will do my duty. Be careful that you do
+not exceed yours."
+
+She swept out of the room. Lady Carey laughed mockingly at the Prince.
+
+"Poor Ferdinand!" she exclaimed.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+He had been kept waiting longer than usual, and he had somehow the
+feeling that his visit was ill-timed, when at last she came to him. He
+looked up eagerly as she entered the little reception room which he had
+grown to know so well during the last few weeks, and it struck him for
+the first time that her welcome was a little forced, her eyes a little
+weary.
+
+"I haven't," he said apologetically, "the least right to be here."
+
+"At least," she murmured, "I may be permitted to remind you that you are
+here without an invitation."
+
+"The worse luck," he said, "that one should be necessary."
+
+"This is the one hour of the day," she remarked, sinking into a large
+easy-chair, "which I devote to repose. How shall I preserve my fleeting
+youth if you break in upon it in this ruthless manner?"
+
+"If I could only truthfully say that I was sorry," he answered, "but I
+can't. I am here--and I would rather be here than anywhere else in the
+world."
+
+She looked at him with curving lips; and even he, who had watched her
+often, could not tell whether that curve was of scorn or mirth.
+
+"They told me," she said impressively, "that you were different--a
+woman-hater, honest, gruff, a little cynical. Yet those are the speeches
+of your salad days. What a disenchantment!"
+
+"The things which one invents when one is young," he said, "come perhaps
+fresh from the heart in later life. The words may sound the same, but
+there is a difference."
+
+"Come," she said, "you are improving. That at any rate is ingenious.
+Suppose you tell me now what has brought you here before four o'clock,
+when I am not fit to be seen?"
+
+He smiled. She shrugged her shoulders.
+
+"I mean it. I haven't either my clothes or my manners on yet. Come,
+explain."
+
+"I met a man who interested me," he answered. "He comes from America,
+from Lenox!"
+
+He saw her whiten. He saw her fingers clutch the sides of her chair.
+
+"From Lenox? And his name?"
+
+"The Duke of Souspennier! He takes himself so seriously that he even
+travels incognito. At the hotel he calls himself Mr. Sabin."
+
+"Indeed!"
+
+"I wondered whether you might not know him?"
+
+"Yes, I know him."
+
+"And in connection with this man," Brott continued, "I have something in
+the nature of a confession to make. I forgot for a moment your request.
+I even mentioned your name."
+
+The pallor had spread to her cheeks, even to her lips. Yet her eyes were
+soft and brilliant, so brilliant that they fascinated him.
+
+"What did he say? What did he ask?"
+
+"He asked for your address. Don't be afraid. I made some excuse. I did
+not give it."
+
+For the life of him he could not tell whether she was pleased or
+disappointed. She had turned her shoulder to him. She was looking
+steadily out of the window, and he could not see her face.
+
+"Why are you curious about him?" she asked.
+
+"I wish I knew. I think only because he came from Lenox."
+
+She turned her face slowly round towards him. He was astonished to see
+the dark rings under her eyes, the weariness of her smile.
+
+"The Duke of Souspennier," she said slowly, "is an old and a dear friend
+of mine. When you tell me that he is in London I am anxious because
+there are many here who are not his friends--who have no cause to love
+him."
+
+"I was wrong then," he said, "not to give him your address."
+
+"You were right," she answered. "I am anxious that he should not know
+it. You will remember this?" He rose and bowed over her hand.
+
+"This has been a selfish interlude," he said. "I have destroyed your
+rest, and I almost fear that I have also disturbed your peace of mind.
+Let me take my leave and pray that you may recover both."
+
+She shook her head.
+
+"Do not leave me," she said. "I am low-spirited. You shall stay and
+cheer me."
+
+There was a light in his eyes which few people would have recognised.
+She rose with a little laugh and stood leaning towards the fire, her
+elbow upon the broad mantel, tall, graceful, alluring. Her soft crimson
+gown, with its wealth of old lace, fell around her in lines and curves
+full of grace. The pallor of her face was gone now--the warmth of the
+fire burned her cheeks. Her voice became softer.
+
+"Sit down and talk to me," she murmured. "Do you remember the old days,
+when you were a very timid young secretary of Sir George Nomsom, and
+I was a maid-of-honour at the Viennese Court? Dear me, how you have
+changed!"
+
+"Time," he said, "will not stand still for all of us. Yet my memory
+tells me how possible it would be--for indeed those days seem but as
+yesterday."
+
+He looked up at her with a sudden jealousy. His tone shook with passion.
+No one would have recognised Brott now. In his fiercest hour of debate,
+his hour of greatest trial, he had worn his mask, always master of
+himself and his speech. And now he had cast it off. His eyes were
+hungry, his lips twitched.
+
+"As yesterday! Lucille, I could kill you when I think of those days. For
+twenty years your kiss has lain upon my lips--and you--with you--it has
+been different."
+
+She laughed softly upon him, laughed more with her eyes than with her
+lips. She watched him curiously.
+
+"Dear me!" she murmured, "what would you have? I am a woman--I have been
+a woman all my days, and the memory of one kiss grows cold. So I will
+admit that with me--it has been different. Come! What then?"
+
+He groaned.
+
+"I wonder," he said, "what miserable fate, what cursed stroke of fortune
+brought you once more into my life?"
+
+She threw her head back and laughed at him, this time heartily,
+unaffectedly.
+
+"What adorable candour!" she exclaimed. "My dear friend, how amiable you
+are."
+
+He looked at her steadfastly, and somehow the laugh died away from her
+lips.
+
+"Lucille, will you marry me?"
+
+"Marry you? I? Certainly not."
+
+"And why not?"
+
+"For a score of reasons, if you want them," she answered. "First,
+because I think it is delightful to have you for a friend. I can never
+quite tell what you are going to do or say. As a husband I am almost
+sure that you would be monotonous. But then, how could you avoid it?
+It is madness to think of destroying a pleasant friendship in such a
+manner."
+
+"You are mocking me," he said sadly.
+
+"Well," she said, "why not? Your own proposal is a mockery."
+
+"A mockery! My proposal!"
+
+"Yes," she answered steadily. "You know quite well that the very
+thought of such a thing between you and me is an absurdity. I abhor your
+politics, I detest your party. You are ambitious, I know. You intend to
+be Prime Minister, a people's Prime Minister. Well, for my part, I hate
+the people. I am an aristocrat. As your wife I should be in a perfectly
+ridiculous position. How foolish! You have led me into talking of this
+thing seriously. Let us forget all this rubbish."
+
+He stood before her--waiting patiently, his mouth close set, his manner
+dogged with purpose.
+
+"It is not rubbish," he said. "It is true that I shall be Prime
+Minister. It is true also that you will be my wife."
+
+She shrank back from him--uneasily. The fire in his eyes, the ring in
+his tone distressed her.
+
+"As for my politics, you do not understand them. But you shall! I will
+convert you to my way of thinking. Yes, I will do that. The cause of the
+people, of freedom, is the one great impulse which beats through all the
+world. You too shall hear it."
+
+"Thank you," she said. "I have no wish to hear it. I do not believe in
+what you call freedom for the people. I have discovered in America how
+uncomfortable a people's country can be."
+
+"Yet you married an American. You call yourself still the Countess
+Radantz... but you married Mr. James B. Peterson!"
+
+"It is true, my friend," she answered. "But the American in question
+was a person of culture and intelligence, and at heart he was no more
+a democrat than I am. Further, I am an extravagant woman, and he was a
+millionaire."
+
+"And you, after his death, without necessity--went to bury yourself in
+his country."
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"I am jealous of every year of your life which lies hidden from me," he
+said slowly.
+
+"Dear me--how uncomfortable!"
+
+"Before you--reappeared," he said, "I had learnt, yes I had learnt to do
+without you. I had sealed up the one chapter of my life which had in
+it anything to do with sentiment. Your coming has altered all that. You
+have disturbed the focus of my ambitions. Lucille! I have loved you for
+more than half a lifetime. Isn't it time I had my reward?"
+
+He took a quick step towards her. In his tone was the ring of mastery,
+the light in his eyes was compelling. She shrank back, but he seized one
+of her hands. It lay between his, a cold dead thing.
+
+"What have my politics to do with it?" he asked fiercely. "You are not
+an Englishwoman. Be content that I shall set you far above these gods of
+my later life. There is my work to be done, and I shall do it. Let me
+be judge of these things. Believe me that it is a great work. If you are
+ambitious--give your ambitions into my keeping, and I will gratify them.
+Only I cannot bear this suspense-these changing moods. Marry me-now at
+once, or send me back to the old life."
+
+She drew her fingers away, and sank down into her easy-chair. Her head
+was buried in her hands. Was she thinking or weeping? He could not
+decide. While he hesitated she looked up, and he saw that there was no
+trace of tears upon her face.
+
+"You are too masterful," she said gently. "I will not marry you. I will
+not give myself body and soul to any man. Yet that is what you ask. I am
+not a girl. My opinions are as dear to me in their way as yours are to
+you. You want me to close my eyes while you drop sugar plums into my
+mouth. That is not my idea of life. I think that you had better go away.
+Let us forget these things."
+
+"Very well," he answered. "It shall be as you say." He did not wait for
+her to ring, nor did he attempt any sort of farewell. He simply took
+up his hat, and before she could realise his intention he had left the
+room. Lucille sat quite still, looking into the fire.
+
+"If only," she murmured, "if only this were the end."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+Duson entered the sitting-room, noiseless as ever, with pale,
+passionless face, the absolute prototype of the perfect French servant,
+to whom any expression of vigorous life seems to savour of presumption.
+He carried a small silver salver, on which reposed a card.
+
+"The gentleman is in the ante-room, sir," he announced.
+
+Mr. Sabin took up the card and studied it.
+
+"Lord Robert Foulkes."
+
+"Do I know this gentleman, Duson?" Mr. Sabin asked.
+
+"Not to my knowledge, sir," the man answered.
+
+"You must show him in," Mr. Sabin said, with a sigh. "In this country
+one must never be rude to a lord."
+
+Duson obeyed. Lord Robert Foulkes was a small young man, very carefully
+groomed, nondescript in appearance. He smiled pleasantly at Mr. Sabin
+and drew off his gloves.
+
+"How do you do, Mr. Sabin?" he said. "Don't remember me, I daresay. Met
+you once or twice last time you were in London. I wish I could say that
+I was glad to see you here again."
+
+Mr. Sabin's forehead lost its wrinkle. He knew where he was now.
+
+"Sit down, Lord Robert," he begged. "I do not remember you, it is
+true, but I am getting an old man. My memory sometimes plays me strange
+tricks."
+
+The young man looked at Mr. Sabin and laughed softly. Indeed, Mr. Sabin
+had very little the appearance of an old man. He was leaning with
+both hands clasped upon his stick, his face alert, his eyes bright and
+searching.
+
+"You carry your years well, Mr. Sabin. Yet while we are on the subject,
+do you know that London is the unhealthiest city in the world?"
+
+"I am always remarkably well here," Mr. Sabin said drily.
+
+"London has changed since your last visit," Lord Robert said, with a
+gentle smile. "Believe me if I say--as your sincere well-wisher--that
+there is something in the air at present positively unwholesome to you.
+I am not sure that unwholesome is not too weak a word."
+
+"Is this official?" Mr. Sabin asked quietly.
+
+The young man fingered the gold chain which disappeared in his trousers
+pocket.
+
+"Need I introduce myself?" he asked.
+
+"Quite unnecessary," Mr. Sabin assured him. "Permit me to reflect for
+a few minutes. Your visit comes upon me as a surprise. Will you smoke?
+There are cigarettes at your elbow."
+
+"I am entirely at your service," Lord Robert answered. "Thanks, I will
+try one of your cigarettes. You were always famous for your tobacco."
+
+There was a short silence. Mr. Sabin had seldom found it more difficult
+to see the way before him.
+
+"I imagined," he said at last, "from several little incidents which
+occurred previous to my leaving New York that my presence here was
+regarded as superfluous. Do you know, I believe that I could convince
+you to the contrary."
+
+Lord Robert raised his eyebrows.
+
+"Mr. dear Mr. Sabin," he said, "pray reflect. I am a messenger. No more!
+A hired commissionaire!"
+
+Mr. Sabin bowed.
+
+"You are an ambassador!" he said.
+
+The young man shook his head.
+
+"You magnify my position," he declared. "My errand is done when I remind
+you that it is many years since you visited Paris, that Vienna is as
+fascinating a city as ever, and Pesth a few hours journey beyond. But
+London--no, London is not possible for you. After the seventh day from
+this London would be worse than impossible."
+
+Mr. Sabin smoked thoughtfully for a few moments.
+
+"Lord Robert," he said, "I have, I believe, the right of a personal
+appeal. I desire to make it."
+
+Lord Robert looked positively distressed.
+
+"My dear sir," he said, "the right of appeal, any right of any sort,
+belongs only to those within the circle."
+
+"Exactly," Mr. Sabin agreed. "I claim to belong there."
+
+Lord Roberts shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"You force me to remind you," he said, "of a certain decree--a decree of
+expulsion passed five years ago, and of which I presume due notification
+was given to you."
+
+Mr. Sabin shook his head very slowly.
+
+"I deny the legality of that decree," he said. "There can be no such
+thing as expulsion."
+
+"There was Lefanu," Lord Robert murmured.
+
+"He died," Mr. Sabin answered. "That was reasonable enough."
+
+"Your services had been great," Lord Robert said, "and your fault was
+but venial."
+
+"Nevertheless," Mr. Sabin said, "the one was logical, the other is not."
+
+"You claim, then," the young man said, "to be still within the circle?"
+
+"Certainly!"
+
+"You are aware that this is a very dangerous claim?"
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled, but he said nothing. Lord Robert hastened to excuse
+himself.
+
+"I beg your pardon," he said. "I should have known better than to have
+used such a word to you. Permit me to take my leave."
+
+Mr. Sabin rose.
+
+"I thank you, sir," he said, "for the courteous manner in which you have
+discharged your mission."
+
+Lord Robert bowed.
+
+"My good wishes," he said, "are yours."
+
+Mr. Sabin when alone called Duson to him.
+
+"Have you any report to make, Duson?" he asked.
+
+"None, sir!"
+
+Mr. Sabin dismissed him impatiently.
+
+"After all, I am getting old. He is young and he is strong--a worthy
+antagonist. Come, let us see what this little volume has to say about
+him."
+
+He turned over the pages rapidly and read aloud.
+
+"Reginald Cyril Brott, born 18--, son of John Reginald Brott, Esq.,
+of Manchester. Educated at Harrow and Merton College, Cambridge, M.A.,
+LL.D., and winner of the Rudlock History Prize. Also tenth wrangler.
+Entered the diplomatic service on leaving college, and served as junior
+attache at Vienna."
+
+Mr. Sabin laid down the volume, and made a little calculation. At the
+end of it he had made a discovery. His face was very white and set.
+
+"I was at Petersburg," he muttered. "Now I think of it, I heard
+something of a young English attache. But--"
+
+He touched the bell.
+
+"Duson, a carriage!"
+
+At Camperdown House he learned that Helene was out--shopping, the
+hall porter believed. Mr. Sabin drove slowly down Bond Street, and was
+rewarded by seeing her brougham outside a famous milliner's. He waited
+for her upon the pavement. Presently she came out and smiled her
+greetings upon him.
+
+"You were waiting for me?" she asked.
+
+"I saw your carriage."
+
+"How delightful of you. Let me take you back to luncheon."
+
+He shook his head.
+
+"I am afraid," he said, "that I should be poor company. May I drive home
+with you, at any rate, when you have finished?"
+
+"Of course you may, and for luncheon we shall be quite alone, unless
+somebody drops in."
+
+He took his seat beside her in the carriage. "Helene," he said, "I am
+interested in Mr. Brott. No, don't look at me like that. You need have
+no fear. My interest is in him as a man, and not as a politician. The
+other days are over and done with now. I am on the defensive and hard
+pressed."
+
+Her face was bright with sympathy. She forgot everything except her
+old admiration for him. In the clashing of their wills the victory had
+remained with her. And as for those things which he had done, the cause
+at least had been a great one. Her happiness had come to her through
+him. She bore him no grudge for that fierce opposition which, after all,
+had been fruitless.
+
+"I believe you, UNCLE," she said affectionately. "If I can help you in
+any way I will."
+
+"This Mr. Brott! He goes very little into society, I believe."
+
+"Scarcely ever," she answered. "He came to us because my husband is one
+of the few Radical peers."
+
+"You have not heard of any recent change in him--in this respect?"
+
+"Well, I did hear Wolfendon chaffing him the other day about somebody,"
+she said. "Oh, I know. He has been going often to the Duchess of
+Dorset's. He is such an ultra Radical, you know, and the Dorsets are
+fierce Tories. Wolfendon says it is a most unwise thing for a good
+Radical who wants to retain the confidence of the people to be seen
+about with a Duchess."
+
+"The Duchess of Dorset," Mr. Sabin remarked, "must be, well--a
+middle-aged woman."
+
+Helene laughed.
+
+"She is sixty if she is a day. But I daresay she herself is not the
+attraction. There is a very beautiful woman staying with her--the
+Countess Radantz. A Hungarian, I believe."
+
+Mr. Sabin sat quite still. His face was turned away from Helene. She
+herself was smiling out of the window at some acquaintances.
+
+"I wonder if there is anything more that I can tell you?" she asked
+presently.
+
+He turned towards her with a faint smile.
+
+"You have told me," he said, "all that I want to know."
+
+She was struck by the change in his face, the quietness of his tone was
+ominous.
+
+"Am I meant to understand?" she said dubiously "because I don't in the
+least. It seems to me that have told you nothing. I cannot imagine what
+Mr. Brott and you have in common."
+
+"If your invitation to lunch still holds good," he said, "may I accept
+it? Afterwards, if you can spare me a few minutes I will make things
+quite clear to you."
+
+She laughed.
+
+"You will find," she declared, "that I shall leave you little peace for
+luncheon. I am consumed with curiosity."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+Nevertheless, Mr. Sabin lunched with discretion, as usual, but with no
+lack of appetite. It chanced that they were alone. Lord Camperdown was
+down in the Midlands for a day's hunting, and Helene had ensured their
+seclusion from any one who might drop in by a whispered word to the
+hall porter as they passed into the house. It seemed to her that she had
+never found Mr. Sabin more entertaining, had never more appreciated his
+rare gift of effortless and anecdotal conversation. What a marvelous
+memory! He knew something of every country from the inside. He had been
+brought at various times during his long diplomatic career into contact
+with most of the interesting people in the world. He knew well how
+to separate the grain from the chaff according to the tastes of
+his listener. The pathos of his present position appealed to her
+irresistibly. The possibilities of his life had been so great, fortune
+had treated him always so strangely. The greatest of his schemes had
+come so near to success, the luck had turned against him only at the
+very moment of fruition. Helene felt very kindly towards her UNCLE as
+she led him, after luncheon, to a quiet corner of the winter garden,
+where a servant had already arranged a table with coffee and liqueurs
+and cigarettes. Unscrupulous all his life, there had been an element of
+greatness in all his schemes. Even his failures had been magnificent,
+for his successes he himself had seldom reaped the reward. And now in
+the autumn of his days she felt dimly that he was threatened with some
+evil thing against which he stood at bay single-handed, likely perhaps
+to be overpowered. For there was something in his face just now which
+was strange to her.
+
+"Helene," he said quietly, "I suppose that you, who knew nothing of
+me till you left school, have looked upon me always as a selfish,
+passionless creature--a weaver of plots, perhaps sometimes a dreamer of
+dreams, but a person wholly self-centred, always self-engrossed?"
+
+She shook her head.
+
+"Not selfish!" she objected. "No, I never thought that. It is the wrong
+word."
+
+"At least," he said, "you will be surprised to hear that I have loved
+one woman all my life."
+
+She looked at him half doubtfully.
+
+"Yes," she said, "I am surprised to hear that."
+
+"I will surprise you still more. I was married to her in America within
+a month of my arrival there. We have lived together ever since. And I
+have been very happy. I speak, of course, of Lucille!"
+
+"It is amazing," she murmured. "You must tell me all about it."
+
+"Not all," he answered sadly. "Only this. I met her first at Vienna
+when I was thirty-five, and she was eighteen. I treated her shamefully.
+Marriage seemed to me, with all my dreams of great achievements, an act
+of madness. I believed in myself and my career. I believed that it was
+my destiny to restore the monarchy to our beloved country. And I wanted
+to be free. I think that I saw myself a second Napoleon. So I won her
+love, took all that she had to give, and returned nothing.
+
+"In the course of years she married the son of the American Consul at
+Vienna. I was obliged, by the bye, to fight her brother, and he carried
+his enmity to me through life. I saw her sometimes in the course
+of years. She was always beautiful, always surrounded by a host of
+admirers, always cold. When the end of my great plans here came, and I
+myself was a fugitive, her brother found me out. He gave me a letter to
+deliver in America. I delivered it--to his sister.
+
+"She was as beautiful as ever, and alone in the world. It seemed to me
+that I realised then how great my folly had been. For always I had loved
+her, always there had been that jealously locked little chamber in my
+life. Helene, she pointed no finger of scorn to my broken life. She
+uttered no reproaches. She took me as I was, and for three years our
+life together has been to me one long unbroken harmony. Our tastes were
+very similar. She was well read, receptive, a charming companion. Ennui
+was a word of which I have forgotten the meaning. And it seemed so with
+her, too, for she grew younger and more beautiful."
+
+"And why is she not with you?" Helene cried. "I must go and see her. How
+delightful it sounds!"
+
+"One day, about three months ago," Mr. Sabin continued, "she left me to
+go to New York for two days. Her milliner in Paris had sent over, and
+twice a year Lucille used to buy clothes. I had sometimes accompanied
+her, but she knew how I detested New York, and this time she did not
+press me to go. She left me in the highest spirits, as tender and
+gracefully affectionate as ever. She never returned."
+
+Helene started in her chair.
+
+"Oh, UNCLE!" she cried.
+
+"I have never seen her since," he repeated.
+
+"Have you no clue? She could not have left you willingly. Have you no
+idea where she is?"
+
+He bowed his head slowly.
+
+"Yes," he said, "I know where she is. She came to Europe with Lady
+Carey. She is staying with the Duchess of Dorset."
+
+"The Countess Radantz?" Helene cried.
+
+"It was her maiden name," he answered.
+
+There was a moment's silence. Helene was bewildered.
+
+"Then you have seen her?"
+
+He shook his head slowly.
+
+"No. I did not even know where she was until you told me."
+
+"But why do you wait a single moment?" she asked. "There must be some
+explanation. Let me order a carriage now. I will drive round to Dorset
+House with you."
+
+She half rose. He held out his hand and checked her.
+
+"There are other things to be explained," he said quickly. "Sit down,
+Helene."
+
+She obeyed him, mystified.
+
+"For your own sake," he continued, "there are certain facts in
+connection with this matter which I must withhold. All I can tell you
+is this. There are people who have acquired a hold upon Lucille so great
+that she is forced to obey their bidding. Lady Carey is one, the Duchess
+of Dorset is another. They are no friends of mine, and apparently
+Lucille has been taken away from me by them."
+
+"A--a hold upon her?" Helene repeated vaguely.
+
+"It is all I can tell you. You must suppose an extreme case. You may
+take my word for it that under certain circumstances Lucille would have
+no power to deny them anything."
+
+"But--without a word of farewell. They could not insist upon her leaving
+you like that! It is incredible!"
+
+"It is quite possible," Mr. Sabin said.
+
+Helene caught herself looking at him stealthily. Was it possible that
+this wonderful brain had given way at last? There were no signs of it
+in his face or expression. But the Duchess of Dorset! Lady Carey! These
+were women of her own circle--Londoners, and the Duchess, at any rate,
+a woman of the very highest social position and unimpeached
+conventionality.
+
+"This sounds--very extraordinary, UNCLE!" she remarked a little lamely.
+
+"It is extraordinary," he answered drily. "I do not wonder that you find
+it hard to believe me. I--"
+
+"Not to believe--to understand!"
+
+He smiled.
+
+"We will not distinguish! After all, what does it matter? Assume, if
+you cannot believe, that Lucille's leaving me may have been at the
+instigation of these people, and therefore involuntary. If this be so
+I have hard battle to fight to win her back, but in the end I shall do
+it."
+
+She nodded sympathetically.
+
+"I am sure," she said, "that you will not find it difficult. Tell me,
+cannot I help you in any way? I know the Duchess very well indeed--well
+enough to take you to call quite informally if you please. She is a
+great supporter of what they call the Primrose League here. I do not
+understand what it is all about, but it seems that I may not join
+because my husband is a Radical."
+
+Mr. Sabin looked for a moment over his clasped hands through the faint
+blue cloud of cigarette smoke, and sundry possibilities flashed through
+his mind to be at once rejected. He shook his head.
+
+"No!" he said firmly. "I do not wish for your help at present, directly
+or indirectly. If you meet the Countess I would rather that you did not
+mention my name. There is only one person whom, if you met at Dorset
+House or anywhere where Lucille is, I would ask you to watch. That is
+Mr. Brott!"
+
+It was to be a conversation full of surprises for Helene. Mr. Brott!
+Her hand went up to her forehead for a moment, and a little gesture of
+bewilderment escaped her.
+
+"Will you tell me," she asked almost plaintively, "what on earth Mr.
+Brott can have to do with this business--with Lucille--with you--with
+any one connected with it?"
+
+Mr. Sabin shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"Mr. Brott," he remarked, "a Cabinet Minister of marked Radical
+proclivities, has lately been a frequent visitor at Dorset House,
+which is the very home of the old aristocratic Toryism. Mr. Brott was
+acquainted with Lucille many years ago--in Vienna. At that time he
+was, I believe, deeply interested in her. I must confess that Mr. Brott
+causes me some uneasiness."
+
+"I think--that men always know," Helene said, "if they care to. Was
+Lucille happy with you?"
+
+"Absolutely. I am sure of it."
+
+"Then your first assumption must be correct," she declared. "You cannot
+explain things to me, so I cannot help you even with my advice. I am
+sorry."
+
+He turned his head towards her and regarded her critically, as though
+making some test of her sincerity.
+
+"Helene," he said gravely, "it is for your own sake that I do not
+explain further, that I do not make things clearer to you. Only I wanted
+you to understand why I once more set foot in Europe. I wanted you to
+understand why I am here. It is to win back Lucille. It is like that
+with me, Helene. I, who once schemed and plotted for an empire, am once
+more a schemer and a worker, but for no other purpose than to recover
+possession of the woman whom I love. You do not recognise me, Helene. I
+do not recognise myself. Nevertheless, I would have you know the truth.
+I am here for that, and for no other purpose."
+
+He rose slowly to his feet. She held out both her hands and grasped his.
+
+"Let me help you," she begged. "Do! This is not a matter of politics or
+anything compromising. I am sure that I could be useful to you."
+
+"So you can," he answered quietly. "Do as I have asked you. Watch Mr.
+Brott!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+Mr. Brott and Mr. Sabin dined together--not, as it happened, at the
+House of Commons, but at the former's club in Pall Mall. For Mr. Sabin
+it was not altogether an enjoyable meal. The club was large, gloomy and
+political; the cooking was exactly of that order which such surroundings
+seemed to require. Nor was Mr. Brott a particularly brilliant host. Yet
+his guest derived a certain amount of pleasure from the entertainment,
+owing to Brott's constant endeavours to bring the conversation round to
+Lucille.
+
+"I find," he said, as they lit their cigarettes, "that I committed an
+indiscretion the other day at Camperdown House!"
+
+Mr. Sabin assumed the puzzled air of one endeavouring to pin down an
+elusive memory.
+
+"Let me see," he murmured doubtfully. "It was in connection with--"
+
+"The Countess Radantz. If you remember, I told you that it was her
+desire just now to remain incognito. I, however, unfortunately forgot
+this during the course of our conversation."
+
+"Yes, I remember. You told me where she was staying. But the Countess
+and I are old acquaintances. I feel sure that she did not object to your
+having given me her address. I could not possibly leave London without
+calling upon her."
+
+Mr. Brott moved in his chair uneasily.
+
+"It seems presumption on my part to make such a suggestion perhaps," he
+said slowly, "but I really believe that the Countess is in earnest with
+reference to her desire for seclusion just at present. I believe that
+she is really very anxious that her presence in London, just now should
+not be generally known."
+
+"I am such a very old friend," Mr. Sabin said. "I knew her when she was
+a child."
+
+Mr. Brott nodded.
+
+"It is very strange," he said, "that you should have come together again
+in such a country as America, and in a small town too."
+
+"Lenox," Mr. Sabin said, "is a small place, but a great center. By the
+bye, is there not some question of an impending marriage on the part of
+the Countess?"
+
+"I have heard--of nothing of the sort," Mr. Brott said, looking up
+startled. Then, after a moment's pause, during which he studied closely
+his companion's imperturbable face, he added the question which forced
+its way to his lips.
+
+"Have you?"
+
+Mr. Sabin looked along his cigarette and pinched it affectionately. It
+was one of his own, which he had dexterously substituted for those which
+his host had placed at his disposal.
+
+"The Countess is a very charming, a very beautiful, and a most
+attractive woman," he said slowly. "Her marriage has always seemed to me
+a matter of certainty."
+
+Mr. Brott hesitated, and was lost.
+
+"You are an old friend of hers," he said. "You perhaps know more of her
+recent history than I do. For a time she seemed to drop out of my life
+altogether. Now that she has come back I am very anxious to persuade her
+to marry me."
+
+A single lightning-like flash in Mr. Sabin's eyes for a moment
+disconcerted his host. But, after all, it was gone with such amazing
+suddenness that it left behind it a sense of unreality. Mr. Brott
+decided that after all it must have been fancy.
+
+"May I ask," Mr. Sabin said quietly, "whether the Countess appears to
+receive your suit with favour?"
+
+Mr. Brott hesitated.
+
+"I am afraid I cannot go so far as to say that she does," he said
+regretfully. "I do not know why I find myself talking on this matter to
+you. I feel that I should apologise for giving such a personal turn to
+the conversation."
+
+"I beg that you will do nothing of the sort," Mr. Sabin protested. "I
+am, as a matter of fact, most deeply interested."
+
+"You encourage me," Mr. Brott declared, "to ask you a question--to me a
+very important question."
+
+"It will give me great pleasure," Mr. Sabin assured him, "if I am able
+to answer it."
+
+"You know," Mr. Brott said, "of that portion of her life concerning
+which I have asked no questions, but which somehow, whenever I think of
+it, fills me with a certain amount of uneasiness. I refer to the last
+three years which the Countess has spent in America."
+
+Mr. Sabin looked up, and his lips seemed to move, but he said nothing.
+Mr. Brott felt perhaps that he was on difficult ground.
+
+"I recognise the fact," he continued slowly, "that you are the friend
+of the Countess, and that you and I are nothing more than the merest
+acquaintances. I ask my question therefore with some diffidence. Can you
+tell me from your recent, more intimate knowledge of the Countess
+and her affairs, whether there exists any reason outside her own
+inclinations why she should not accept my proposals of marriage?"
+
+Mr. Sabin had the air of a man gravely surprised. He shook his head very
+slightly.
+
+"You must not ask me such a question as that, Mr. Brott," he said. "It
+is not a subject which I could possibly discuss with you. But I have no
+objection to going so far as this. My experience of the Countess is that
+she is a woman of magnificent and effective will power. I think if she
+has any desire to marry you there are or could be no obstacles existing
+which she would not easily dispose of."
+
+"There are obstacles, then?"
+
+"You must not ask me that," Mr. Sabin said, with a certain amount of
+stiffness. "The Countess is a very dear friend of mine, and you must
+forgive me now if I say that I prefer not to discuss her any longer."
+
+A hall servant entered the room, bearing a note for Mr. Brott. He
+received it at first carelessly, but his expression changed the moment
+he saw the superscription. He turned a little away, and Mr. Sabin
+noticed that the fingers which tore open the envelope were trembling.
+The note seemed short enough, but he must have read it half a dozen
+times before at last he turned round to the messenger.
+
+"There is no answer," he said in a low tone.
+
+He folded the note and put it carefully into his breast pocket. Mr.
+Sabin subdued an insane desire to struggle with him and discover, by
+force, if necessary, who was the sender of those few brief lines. For
+Mr. Brott was a changed man.
+
+"I am afraid," he said, turning to his guest, "that this has been a very
+dull evening for you. To tell you the truth, this club is not exactly
+the haunt of pleasure-seekers. It generally oppresses me for the first
+hour or so. Would you like a hand at bridge, or a game of billiards? I
+am wholly at your service--until twelve o'clock."
+
+Mr. Sabin glanced at the clock.
+
+"You are very good," he said, "but I was never much good at indoor
+games. Golf has been my only relaxation for many years. Besides, I too
+have an engagement for which I must leave in a very few minutes."
+
+"It is very good of you," Mr. Brott said, "to have given me the pleasure
+of your company. I have the greatest possible admiration for your niece,
+Mr. Sabin, and Camperdown is a thundering good fellow. He will be our
+leader in the House of Lords before many years have passed."
+
+"He is, I believe," Mr. Sabin remarked, "of the same politics as
+yourself."
+
+"We are both," Mr. Brott answered, with a smile, "I am afraid outside
+the pale of your consideration in this respect. We are both Radicals."
+
+Mr. Sabin lit another cigarette and glanced once more at the clock.
+
+"A Radical peer!" he remarked. "Isn't that rather an anomaly? The
+principles of Radicalism and aristocracy seem so divergent."
+
+"Yet," Mr. Brott said, "they are not wholly irreconcilable. I have often
+wished that this could be more generally understood. I find myself at
+times very unpopular with people, whose good opinion I am anxious to
+retain, simply owing to this too general misapprehension."
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled gently.
+
+"You were referring without doubt--" he began.
+
+"To the Countess," Brott admitted. "Yes, it is true. But after all," he
+added cheerfully, "I believe that our disagreements are mainly upon the
+surface. The Countess is a woman of wide culture and understanding. Her
+mind, too, is plastic. She has few prejudices."
+
+Mr. Sabin glanced at the clock for the third time, and rose to his feet.
+He was quite sure now that the note was from her. He leaned on his
+stick and took his leave quietly. All the time he was studying his host,
+wondering at his air of only partially suppressed excitement.
+
+"I must thank you very much, Mr. Brott," he said, "for your
+entertainment. I trust that you will give me an opportunity shortly of
+reciprocating your hospitality."
+
+The two men parted finally in the hall. Mr. Sabin stepped into his hired
+carriage.
+
+"Dorset House!" he directed.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+"This little difference of opinion," the Prince remarked, looking
+thoughtfully through the emerald green of his liqueur, "interests me.
+Our friend Dolinski here thinks that he will not come because he will
+be afraid. De Brouillac, on the contrary, says that he will not come
+because he is too sagacious. Felix here, who knows him best, says that
+he will not come because he prefers ever to play the game from outside
+the circle, a looker-on to all appearance, yet sometimes wielding an
+unseen force. It is a strong position that."
+
+Lucille raised her head and regarded the last speaker steadily.
+
+"And I, Prince!" she exclaimed, "I say that he will come because he is a
+man, and because he does not know fear."
+
+The Prince of Saxe Leinitzer bowed low towards the speaker.
+
+"Dear Lucille," he said, so respectfully that the faint irony of his
+tone was lost to most of those present, "I, too, am of your opinion.
+The man who has a right, real or fancied, to claim you must indeed be
+a coward if he suffered dangers of any sort to stand in the way. After
+all, dangers from us! Is it not a little absurd?"
+
+Lucille looked away from the Prince with a little shudder. He laughed
+softly, and drank his liqueur. Afterwards he leaned back for a moment
+in his chair and glanced thoughtfully around at the assembled company as
+though anxious to impress upon his memory all who were present. It was a
+little group, every member of which bore a well-known name. Their host,
+the Duke of Dorset, in whose splendid library they were assembled, was,
+if not the premier duke of the United Kingdom, at least one of those
+whose many hereditary offices and ancient family entitled him to a
+foremost place in the aristocracy of the world. Raoul de Brouillac,
+Count of Orleans, bore a name which was scarcely absent from a single
+page of the martial history of France. The Prince of Saxe Leinitzer kept
+up still a semblance of royalty in the State which his ancestors had
+ruled with despotic power. Lady Muriel Carey was a younger daughter of
+a ducal house, which had more than once intermarried with Royalty. The
+others, too, had their claims to be considered amongst the greatest
+families of Europe.
+
+The Prince glanced at his watch, and then at the bridge tables ready set
+out.
+
+"I think," he said, "that a little diversion--what does our hostess
+say?"
+
+"Two sets can start at least," the Duchess said. "Lucille and I will
+stay out, and the Count de Brouillac does not play."
+
+The Prince rose.
+
+"It is agreed," he said. "Duke, will you honour me? Felix and Dolinski
+are our ancient adversaries. It should be an interesting trial of
+strength."
+
+There was a general movement, a re-arrangement of seats, and a little
+buzz of conversation. Then silence. Lucille sat back in a great chair,
+and Lady Carey came over to her side.
+
+"You are nervous to-night, Lucille," she said.
+
+"Yes, I am nervous," Lucille admitted. "Why not? At any moment he may be
+here."
+
+"And you care--so much?" Lady Carey said, with a hard little laugh.
+
+"I care so much," Lucille echoed.
+
+Lady Carey shook out her amber satin skirt and sat down upon a low
+divan. She held up her hands, small white hands, ablaze with jewels, and
+looked at them for a moment thoughtfully.
+
+"He was very much in earnest when I saw him at Sherry's in New York,"
+she remarked, "and he was altogether too clever for Mr. Horser and our
+friends there. After all their talk and boasting too. Why, they are
+ignorant of the very elements of intrigue."
+
+Lucille sighed.
+
+"Here," she said, "it is different. The Prince and he are ancient
+rivals, and Raoul de Brouillac is no longer his friend. Muriel, I am
+afraid of what may happen."
+
+Lady Carey shrugged her shoulders.
+
+"He is no fool," she said in a low tone. "He will not come here with a
+magistrate's warrant and a policeman to back it up, nor will he attempt
+to turn the thing into an Adelphi drama. I know him well enough to be
+sure that he will attempt nothing crude. Lucille, don't you find it
+exhilarating?"
+
+"Exhilarating? But why?"
+
+"It will be a game played through to the end by masters, and you, my
+dear woman, are the inspiration. I think that it is most fascinating."
+
+Lucille looked sadly into the fire.
+
+"I think," she said, "that I am weary of all these things. I seem to
+have lived such a very long time. At Lenox I was quite happy. Of my own
+will I would never have left it."
+
+Lady Carey's thin lips curled a little, her blue eyes were full of
+scorn. She was not altogether a pleasant woman to look upon. Her cheeks
+were thin and hollow, her eyes a little too prominent, some hidden
+expression which seemed at times to flit from one to the other of her
+features suggested a sensuality which was a little incongruous with her
+somewhat angular figure and generally cold demeanour. But that she was a
+woman of courage and resource history had proved.
+
+"How idyllic!" she exclaimed. "Positively medieval! Fancy living with
+one man three years."
+
+Lucille smiled.
+
+"Why, not? I never knew a woman yet however cold however fond of change,
+who had not at some time or other during her life met a man for whose
+sake she would have done--what I did. I have had as many admirers--as
+many lovers, I suppose, as most women. But I can truthfully say that
+during the last three years no thought of one of them has crossed my
+mind."
+
+Lady Carey laughed scornfully.
+
+"Upon my word," she said. "If the Prince had not a temper, and if they
+were not playing for such ruinous points, I would entertain them all
+with these delightful confidences. By the bye, the Prince himself was
+once one of those who fell before your chariot wheels, was he not? Look
+at him now--sideways. What does he remind you of?"
+
+Lucille raised her eyes.
+
+"A fat angel," she answered, "or something equally distasteful. How I
+hate those mild eyes and that sweet, slow smile. I saw him thrash a poor
+beater once in the Saxe Leinitzer forests. Ugh!"
+
+"I should not blame him for that," Lady Carey said coldly. "I like
+masterful men, even to the point of cruelty. General Dolinski there
+fascinates me. I believe that he keeps a little private knout at home
+for his wife and children. A wicked little contrivance with an ivory
+handle. I should like to see him use it."
+
+Lucille shuddered. This tete-a-tete did not amuse her. She rose and
+looked over one of the bridge tables for a minute. The Prince, who was
+dealing, looked up with a smile.
+
+"Be my good angel, Countess," he begged. "Fortune has deserted me
+to-night. You shall be the goddess of chance, and smile your favours
+upon me."
+
+A hard little laugh came from the chair where Lady Carey sat. She turned
+her head towards them, and there was a malicious gleam in her eyes.
+
+"Too late, Prince," she exclaimed. "The favours of the Countess are all
+given away. Lucille has become even as one of those flaxen-haired dolls
+of your mountain villages. She has given her heart away, and she is
+sworn to perpetual constancy."
+
+The Prince smiled.
+
+"The absence," he said, glancing up at the clock, "of that most
+fortunate person should surely count in our favour."
+
+Lucille followed his eyes. The clock was striking ten. She shrugged her
+shoulders.
+
+"If the converse also is true, Prince," she said, "you can scarcely have
+anything to hope for from me. For by half-past ten he will be here."
+
+The Prince picked up his cards and sorted them mechanically.
+
+"We shall see," he remarked. "It is true, Countess, that you are here,
+but in this instance you are set with thorns."
+
+"To continue the allegory, Prince," she answered, passing on to the next
+table, "also with poisonous berries. But to the hand which has no fear,
+neither are harmful."
+
+The Prince laid down his hand.
+
+"Now I really believe," he said gently, "that she meant to be rude.
+Partner, I declare hearts!"
+
+Felix was standing out from the next table whilst his hand was being
+played by General Dolinski, his partner. He drew her a little on one
+side.
+
+"Do not irritate Saxe Leinitzer," he whispered. "Remember, everything
+must rest with him. Twice to-night you have brought that smile to his
+lips, and I never see it without thinking of unpleasant things."
+
+"You are right," she answered; "but I hate him so. He and Muriel Carey
+seem to have entered into some conspiracy to lead me on to say things
+which I might regret."
+
+"Saxe Leinitzer," he said, "has never forgotten that he once aspired to
+be your lover."
+
+"He has not failed to let me know it," she answered. "He has even
+dared--ah!"
+
+There was a sudden stir in the room. The library door was thrown open.
+The solemn-visaged butler stood upon the threshold.
+
+"His Grace the Duke of Souspennier!" he announced.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+There was for the moment a dead silence. The soft patter of cards no
+longer fell upon the table. The eyes of every one were turned upon the
+newcomers. And he, leaning upon his stick, looked only for one person,
+and having found her, took no heed of any one else.
+
+"Lucille!"
+
+She rose from her seat and stood with hands outstretched towards him,
+her lips parted in a delightful smile, her eyes soft with happiness.
+
+"Victor, welcome! It is like you to have found me, and I knew that you
+would come."
+
+He raised her fingers to his lips--tenderly--with the grace of a prince,
+but all the affection of a lover. What he said to her none could hear,
+for his voice was lowered almost to a whisper. But the colour stained
+her cheeks, and her blush was the blush of a girl.
+
+A movement of the Duchess recalled him to a sense of his social duty. He
+turned courteously to her with extended hand.
+
+"I trust," he said, "that I may be forgiven my temporary fit of
+aberration. I cannot thank you sufficiently, Duchess, for your kind
+invitation."
+
+Her answering smile was a little dubious.
+
+"I am sure," she said "that we are delighted to welcome back amongst us
+so old and valued a friend. I suppose you know every one?"
+
+Mr. Sabin looked searchingly around, exchanging bows with those whose
+faces were familiar to him. But between him and the Prince of Saxe
+Leinitzer there passed no pretense at any greeting. The two men eyed one
+another for a moment coldly. Each seemed to be trying to read the other
+through.
+
+"I believe," Mr. Sabin said, "that I have that privilege. I see,
+however, that I am interrupting your game. Let me beg you to continue.
+With your permission, Duchess, I will remain a spectator. There are many
+things which my wife and I have to say to one another."
+
+The Prince of Saxe Leinitzer laid his cards softly upon the table. He
+smiled upon Mr. Sabin--a slow, unpleasant smile.
+
+"I think," he said slowly, "that our game must be postponed. It is a
+pity, but I think it had better be so."
+
+"It must be entirely as you wish," Mr. Sabin answered. "I am at your
+service now or later."
+
+The Prince rose to his feet.
+
+"Monsieur le Due de Souspennier," he said, "what are we to conclude from
+your presence here this evening?"
+
+"It is obvious," Mr. Sabin answered. "I claim my place amongst you."
+
+"You claim to be one of us?"
+
+"I do!"
+
+"Ten years ago," the Prince continued, "you were granted immunity from
+all the penalties and obligations which a co-membership with us might
+involve. This privilege was extended to you on account of certain great
+operations in which you were then engaged, and the object of which
+was not foreign to our own aims. You are aware that the period of that
+immunity is long since past."
+
+Mr. Sabin leaned with both hands upon his stick, and his face was like
+the face of a sphinx. Only Lucille, who knew him best of all those
+there, saw him wince for a moment before this reminder of his great
+failure.
+
+"I am not accustomed," Mr. Sabin said quietly, "to shirk my share of the
+work in any undertaking with which I am connected. Only in this case I
+claim to take the place of the Countess Lucille, my wife. I request that
+the task, whatever it may be which you have imposed upon her, may be
+transferred to me."
+
+The Prince's smile was sweet, but those who knew him best wondered what
+evil it might betoken for his ancient enemy.
+
+"You offer yourself, then, as a full member?"
+
+"Assuredly!"
+
+"Subject," he drawled, "to all the usual pains and privileges?"
+
+"Certainly!"
+
+The Prince played with the cards upon the table. His smooth, fair face
+was unruffled, almost undisturbed. Yet underneath he was wondering
+fiercely, eagerly, how this might serve his ends.
+
+"The circumstances," he said at last, "are peculiar. I think that we
+should do well to consult together--you and I, Felix, and Raoul here."
+
+The two men named rose up silently. The Prince pointed to a small
+round table at the farther end of the apartment, half screened off by a
+curtained recess.
+
+"Am I also," Mr. Sabin asked, "of your company?"
+
+The Prince shook his head.
+
+"I think not," he said. "In a few moments we will return."
+
+Mr. Sabin moved away with a slight enigmatic gesture. Lucille gathered
+up her skirts, making room for him by her side on a small sofa.
+
+"It is delightful to see you, Victor," she murmured. "It is delightful
+to know that you trusted me."
+
+Mr. Sabin looked at her, and the smile which no other woman had ever
+seen softened for a moment his face.
+
+"Dear Lucille," he murmured, "how could you ever doubt it? There was a
+day, I admit, when the sun stood still, when, if I had felt inclined to
+turn to light literature, I should have read aloud the Book of Job. But
+afterwards--well, you see that I am here."
+
+She laughed.
+
+"I knew that you would come," she said, "and yet I knew that it would
+be a struggle between you and them. For--the Prince--" she murmured,
+lowering her voice, "had pledged his word to keep us apart."
+
+Mr. Sabin raised his head, and his eyes traveled towards the figure of
+the man who sat with his back to them in the far distant corner of the
+room.
+
+"The Prince," he said softly, "is faithful to his ancient enmities."
+
+Lucille's face was troubled. She turned to her companion with a little
+grimace.
+
+"He would have me believe," she murmured, "that he is faithful to other
+things besides his enmities."
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled.
+
+"I am not jealous," he said softly, "of the Prince of Saxe Leinitzer!"
+
+As though attracted by the mention of his name, which must, however,
+have been unheard by him, the Prince at that moment turned round and
+looked for a moment towards them. He shot a quick glance at Lady Carey.
+Almost at once she rose from her chair and came across to them.
+
+"The Prince's watch-dog," Lucille murmured. "Hateful woman! She is bound
+hand and foot to him, and yet--"
+
+Her eyes met his, and he laughed.
+
+"Really," he said, "you and I in our old age might be hero and heroine
+of a little romance--the undesiring objects of a hopeless affection!"
+
+Lady Carey sank into a low chair by their side. "You two," she said,
+with a slow, malicious smile, "are a pattern to this wicked world. Don't
+you know that such fidelity is positively sinful, and after three years
+in such a country too?"
+
+"It is the approach of senility," Mr. Sabin answered her. "I am an old
+man, Lady Muriel!"
+
+She shrugged her shoulders.
+
+"You are like Ulysses," she said. "The gods, or rather the goddesses,
+have helped you towards immortality."
+
+"It is," Mr. Sabin answered, "the most delicious piece of flattery I
+have ever heard."
+
+"Calypso," she murmured, nodding towards Lucille, "is by your side."
+
+"Really," Mr. Sabin interrupted, "I must protest. Lucille and I
+were married by a most respectable Episcopalian clergyman. We have
+documentary evidence. Besides, if Lucille is Calypso, what about
+Penelope?"
+
+Lady Carey smiled thoughtfully.
+
+"I have always thought," she said, "that Penelope was a myth. In your
+case I should say that Penelope represents a return to sanity--to the
+ordinary ways of life."
+
+Mr. Sabin and Lucille exchanged swift glances. He raised his eyebrows.
+
+"Our little idyll," he said, "seems to be the sport and buffet of
+every one. You forget that I am of the old world. I do not understand
+modernity."
+
+"Ulysses," she answered, "was of the old world, yet he was a wanderer in
+more senses of the word than one. And there have been times--"
+
+Her eyes sought his. He ignored absolutely the subtlety of meaning which
+lurked beneath the heavy drooping eyelids.
+
+"One travels through life," he answered, "by devious paths, and a little
+wandering in the flower-gardens by the way is the lot of every one.
+But when the journey is over, one's taste for wandering has gone--well,
+Ulysses finished his days at the hearth of Penelope."
+
+She rose and walked away. Mr. Sabin sat still and watched her as though
+listening to the soft sweep of her gown upon the carpet.
+
+"Hateful woman!" Lucille exclaimed lightly. "To make love, and such
+love, to one's lawful husband before one's face is a little crude, don't
+you think?"
+
+He shook his head.
+
+"Too obvious," he answered. "She is playing the Prince's game. Dear me,
+how interesting this will be soon."
+
+She nodded. A faint smile of bitterness had stolen into her tone.
+
+"Already," she said, "you are beginning to scent the delight of the
+atmosphere. You are stiffening for the fight. Soon--"
+
+"Ah, no! Don't say it," he whispered, taking her hand. "I shall never
+forget. If the fight seems good to me it is because you are the prize,
+and after all, you know, to fight for one's womenkind is amongst the
+primeval instincts."
+
+Lady Carey, who had been pacing the room restlessly, touching an
+ornament here, looking at a picture there, came back to them and stood
+before Mr. Sabin. She had caught his last words.
+
+"Primeval instincts!" she exclaimed mockingly. "What do you know about
+them, you of all men, a bundle of nerves and brains, with a motor for
+a heart, and an automatic brake upon your passions? Upon my word, I
+believe that I have solved the mystery of your perennial youth. You have
+found a way of substituting machinery for the human organ, and you are
+wound up to go for ever."
+
+"You have found me out," he admitted. "Professor Penningram of Chicago
+will supply you too with an outfit. Mention my name if you like. It is a
+wonderful country America."
+
+The Prince came over to them, fair and bland with no trace upon his
+smooth features or in his half-jesting tone of any evil things.
+
+"Souspennier," he said, holding out his hand, "welcome back once more to
+your old place. I am happy to say that there appears to be no reason why
+your claim should not be fully admitted."
+
+Mr. Sabin rose to his feet.
+
+"I presume," he said, "that no very active demands are likely to be made
+upon my services. In this country more than any other I fear that the
+possibilities of my aid are scanty."
+
+The Prince smiled.
+
+"It is a fact," he said, "which we all appreciate. Upon you at present
+we make no claim."
+
+There was a moment's intense silence. A steely light glittered in Mr.
+Sabin's eyes. He and the Prince alone remained standing. The Duchess of
+Dorset watched them through her lorgnettes; Lady Carey watched too
+with an intense eagerness, her eyes alight with mingled cruelty and
+excitement. Lucille's eyes were so bright that one might readily believe
+the tears to be glistening beneath.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+"I will not pretend," Mr. Sabin said, "to misunderstand you. My help is
+not required by you in this enterprise, whatever it may be, in which you
+are engaged. On the contrary, you have tried by many and various ways to
+keep me at a distance. But I am here, Prince--here to be dealt with and
+treated according to my rights."
+
+The Prince stroked his fair moustache.
+
+"I am a little puzzled," he admitted, "as to this--shall I not call it
+self-assertiveness?--on the part of my good friend Souspennier."
+
+"I will make it quite clear then," Mr. Sabin answered. "Lucille, will
+you favour me by ringing for your maid. The carriage is at the door."
+
+The Prince held out his hand.
+
+"My dear Souspennier," he said, "you must not think of taking Lucille
+away from us."
+
+"Indeed," Mr. Sabin answered coolly. "Why not?"
+
+"It must be obvious to you," the Prince answered, "that we did not
+send to America for Lucille without an object. She is now engaged in an
+important work upon our behalf. It is necessary that she should remain
+under this roof."
+
+"I demand," Mr. Sabin said, "that the nature of that necessity should be
+made clear to me."
+
+The Prince smiled with the air of one disposed to humour a wilful child.
+
+"Come!" he said. "You must know very well that I cannot stand here
+and tell you the bare outline, much less the details of an important
+movement. To-morrow, at any hour you choose, one from amongst us
+shall explain the whole matter--and the part to be borne in it by the
+Countess!"
+
+"And to-night?" Mr. Sabin asked.
+
+The Prince shrugged his shoulders and glanced at the clock.
+
+"To-night, my dear friend," he said, "all of us, I believe, go on to a
+ball at Carmarthen House. It would grieve me also, I am sure, Duke, to
+seem inhospitable, but I am compelled to mention the fact that the hour
+for which the carriages have been ordered is already at hand."
+
+Mr. Sabin reflected for a few moments.
+
+"Did I understand you to say," he asked, "that the help to be given to
+you by my wife, Lucille, Duchess of Souspennier, entailed her remaining
+under this roof?"
+
+The Prince smiled seraphically.
+
+"It is unfortunate," he murmured, "since you have been so gallant as
+to follow her, but it is true! You will understand this
+perfectly--to-morrow."
+
+"And why should I wait until to-morrow?" Mr. Sabin asked coolly.
+
+"I fear," the Prince said, "that it is a matter of necessity."
+
+Mr. Sabin glanced for a moment in turn at the faces of all the little
+company as though seeking to discover how far the attitude of his
+opponent met with their approval. Lady Carey's thin lips were curved
+in a smile, and her eyes met his mockingly. The others remained
+imperturbable. Last of all he looked at Lucille.
+
+"It seems," he said, smiling towards her, "that I am called upon to pay
+a heavy entrance fee on my return amongst your friends. But the Prince
+of Saxe Leinitzer forgets that he has shown me no authority, or given me
+no valid reason why I should tolerate such flagrant interference with my
+personal affairs."
+
+"To-morrow--to-morrow, my good sir!" the Prince interrupted.
+
+"No! To-night!" Mr. Sabin answered sharply. "Lucille, in the absence of
+any reasonable explanation, I challenge the right of the Prince of Saxe
+Leinitzer to rob me even for an hour of my dearest possession. I appeal
+to you. Come with me and remain with me until it has been proved, if
+ever it can be proved, that greater interests require our separation. If
+there be blame I will take it. Will you trust yourself to me?"
+
+Lucille half rose, but Lady Carey's hand was heavy upon her shoulder.
+As though by a careless movement General Dolinski and Raoul de Brouillac
+altered their positions slightly so as to come between the two. The
+Duke of Dorset had left the room. Then Mr. Sabin knew that they were all
+against him.
+
+"Lucille," he said, "have courage! I wait for you."
+
+She looked towards him, and her face puzzled him. For there flashed
+across the shoulders of these people a glance which was wholly out of
+harmony with his own state of barely subdued passion--a glance half
+tender, half humorous, full of subtle promise. Yet her words were a blow
+to him.
+
+"Victor, how is it possible? Believe me, I should come if I could.
+To-morrow--very soon, it may be possible. But now. You hear what the
+Prince says. I fear that he is right!"
+
+To Mr. Sabin the shock was an unexpected one. He had never doubted but
+that she at least was on his side. Her words found him unprepared, and
+a moment he showed his discomfiture. His recovery however, was swift and
+amazing. He bowed to Lucille, and by the time he raised his head even
+the reproach had gone from his eyes.
+
+"Dear lady," he said, "I will not venture to dispute your decision.
+Prince, will you appoint a time to-morrow when this matter shall be more
+fully explained to me?"
+
+The Prince's smile was sweetness itself, and his tone very gentle. But
+Mr. Sabin, who seldom yielded to any passionate impulse, kept his teeth
+set and his hand clenched, lest the blow he longed to deal should escape
+him.
+
+"At midday to-morrow I shall be pleased to receive you," he said.
+"The Countess, with her usual devotion and good sense, has, I trust,
+convinced you that our action is necessary!"
+
+"To-morrow at midday," Mr. Sabin said, "I will be here. I have the
+honour to wish you all good-night."
+
+His farewell was comprehensive. He did not even single out Lucille for a
+parting glance. But down the broad stairs and across the hall of Dorset
+House he passed with weary steps, leaning heavily upon his stick. It was
+a heavy blow which had fallen upon him. As yet he scarcely realised it.
+
+His carriage was delayed for a few moments, and just as he was entering
+it a young woman, plainly dressed in black, came hurrying out and
+slipped a note into his hand.
+
+"Pardon, monsieur," she exclaimed, with a smile. "I feared that I was
+too late."
+
+Mr. Sabin's fingers closed over the note, and he stepped blithely
+into the carriage. But when he tore it open and saw the handwriting he
+permitted himself a little groan of disappointment. It was not from her.
+He read the few lines and crushed the sheet of paper in his hand.
+
+  "I am having supper at the Carlton with some friends on our way
+  to C. H.  I want to speak to you for a moment.  Be in the Palm
+  Court at 12.15, but do not recognise me until I come to you.  If
+  possible keep out of sight.  If you should have left my maid will
+  bring this on to your hotel.
+                                                           "M. C."
+
+Mr. Sabin leaned back in his carriage, and a frown of faint perplexity
+contracted his forehead.
+
+"If I were a younger man," he murmured to himself, "I might believe
+that this woman was really in earnest, as well as being Saxe Leinitzer's
+jackal. We were friendly enough in Paris that year. She is unscrupulous
+enough, of course. Always with some odd fancy for the grotesque or
+unlikely. I wonder--"
+
+He pulled the check-string, and was driven to Camperdown House. A great
+many people were coming and going. Mr. Sabin found Helene's maid, and
+learnt that her mistress was just going to her room, and would be alone
+for a few minutes. He scribbled a few words on the back of a card, and
+was at once taken up to her boudoir.
+
+"My dear UNCLE," Helene exclaimed, "you have arrived most opportunely.
+We have just got rid of a few dinner people, and we are going on to
+Carmarthen House presently. Take that easy-chair, please, and, light a
+cigarette. Will you have a liqueur? Wolfendon has some old brandy which
+every one seems to think wonderful."
+
+"You are very kind, Helene," Mr. Sabin said. "I cannot refuse anything
+which you offer in so charming a manner. But I shall not keep you more
+than a few minutes."
+
+"We need not leave for an hour," Helene said, "and I am dressed except
+for my jewels. Tell me, have you seen Lucille? I am so anxious to know."
+
+"I have seen Lucille this evening," Mr. Sabin answered.
+
+"At Dorset House!"
+
+"Yes."
+
+Helene sat down, smiling.
+
+"Do tell me all about it."
+
+"There is very little to tell," Mr. Sabin answered.
+
+"She is with you--she returns at least!"
+
+Mr. Sabin shook his head.
+
+"No," he answered. "She remains at Dorset House."
+
+Helene was silent. Mr. Sabin smoked pensively a moment or two, and
+sipped the liqueur which Camperdown's own servant had just brought him.
+
+"It is very hard, Helene," he said, "to make you altogether understand
+the situation, for there are certain phases of it which I cannot discuss
+with you at all. I have made my first effort to regain Lucille, and it
+has failed. It is not her fault. I need not say that it is not mine. But
+the struggle has commenced, and in the end I shall win."
+
+"Lucille herself--" Helene began hesitatingly.
+
+"Lucille is, I firmly believe, as anxious to return to me as I am
+anxious to have her," Mr. Sabin said.
+
+Helene threw up her hands.
+
+"It is bewildering," she exclaimed.
+
+"It must seem so to you," Mr. Sabin admitted.
+
+"I wish that Lucille were anywhere else," Helene said. "The Dorset House
+set, you know, although they are very smart and very exclusive, have
+a somewhat peculiar reputation. Lady Carey, although she is such a
+brilliant woman, says and does the most insolent, the most amazing
+things, and the Prince of Saxe Leinitzer goes everywhere in Europe by
+the name of the Royal libertine. They are powerful enough almost to
+dominate society, and we poor people who abide by the conventions are
+absolutely nowhere beside them. They think that we are bourgeois because
+we have virtue, and prehistoric because we are not decadent."
+
+"The Duke--" Mr. Sabin remarked.
+
+"Oh, the Duke is quite different, of course," Helene admitted. "He is a
+fanatical Tory, very stupid, very blind to anything except his beloved
+Primrose League. How he came to lend himself to the vagaries of such a
+set I cannot imagine."
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled.
+
+"C'est la femme toujours!" he remarked. "His Grace is, I fear,
+henpecked, and the Duchess herself is the sport of cleverer people. And
+now, my dear niece, I see that the time is going. I came to know if you
+could get me a card for the ball at Carmarthen House to-night."
+
+Helene laughed softly.
+
+"Very easily, my dear UNCLE. Lady Carmarthen is Wolfendon's cousin, you
+know, and a very good friend of mine. I have half a dozen blank cards
+here. Shall I really see you there?"
+
+"I believe so," Mr. Sabin answered.
+
+"And Lucille?"
+
+"It is possible."
+
+"There is nothing I suppose which I can do in the way of intervention,
+or anything of that sort?"
+
+Mr. Sabin shook his head.
+
+"Lucille and I are the best of friends," he answered. "Talk to her, if
+you will. By the bye, is that twelve o'clock? I must hurry. Doubtless we
+shall meet again at the ball."
+
+But Carmarthen House saw nothing of Mr. Sabin that night.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+Mr. Sabin from his seat behind a gigantic palm watched her egress from
+the supper-room with a little group of friends.
+
+They came to a halt in the broad carpeted way only a few feet from him.
+Lady Carey, in a wonderful green gown, her neck and bosom ablaze with
+jewels, seemed to be making her farewells.
+
+"I must go in and see the De Lausanacs," she exclaimed. "They are in
+the blue room supping with the Portuguese Ambassador. I shall be
+at Carmarthen House within half an hour--unless my headache becomes
+unbearable. Au revoir, all of you. Good-bye, Laura!"
+
+Her friends passed on towards the great swing doors. Lady Carey
+retraced her steps slowly towards the supper-room, and made some languid
+inquiries of the head waiter as to a missing handkerchief. Then she came
+again slowly down the broad way and reached Mr. Sabin. He rose to his
+feet.
+
+"I thank you very much for your note," he said. "You have something, I
+believe, to say to me."
+
+She stood before him for a moment in silence, as though not unwilling
+that he should appreciate the soft splendour of her toilette. The jewels
+which encircled her neck were priceless and dazzling; the soft material
+of her gown, the most delicate shade of sea green, seemed to foam about
+her feet, a wonderful triumph of allegoric dressmaking. She saw that
+he was studying her, and she laughed a little uneasily, looking all the
+time into his eyes.
+
+"Shockingly overdressed, ain't I?" she said. "We were going straight to
+Carmarthen House, you know. Come and sit in this corner for a moment,
+and order me some coffee. I suppose there isn't any less public place!"
+
+"I fear not," he answered. "You will perhaps be unobserved behind this
+palm."
+
+She sank into a low chair, and he seated himself beside her. She sighed
+contentedly.
+
+"Dear me!" she said. "Do men like being run after like this?"
+
+Mr. Sabin raised his eyebrows.
+
+"I understood," he said, "that you had something to say to me of
+importance."
+
+She shot a quick look up at him.
+
+"Don't be horrid," she said in a low tone. "Of course I wanted to see
+you. I wanted to explain. Give me one of your cigarettes."
+
+He laid his case silently before her. She took one and lit it, watching
+him furtively all the time. The man brought their coffee. The place was
+almost empty now, and some of the lights were turned down.
+
+"It is very kind of you," he said slowly, "to honour me by so much
+consideration, but if you have much to say perhaps it would be better
+if you permitted me to call upon you to-morrow. I am afraid of depriving
+you of your ball--and your friends will be getting impatient."
+
+"Bother the ball--and my friends," she exclaimed, a certain strained
+note in her tone which puzzled him. "I'm not obliged to go to the thing,
+and I don't want to. I've invented a headache, and they won't even
+expect me. They know my headaches."
+
+"In that case," Mr. Sabin said, "I am entirely at your service."
+
+She sighed, and looked up at him through a little cloud of tobacco
+smoke.
+
+"What a wonderful man you are," she said softly. "You accept defeat with
+the grace of a victor. I believe that you would triumph as easily with
+a shrug of the shoulders. Haven't you any feeling at all? Don't you know
+what it is like to feel?"
+
+He smiled.
+
+"We both come," he said, "of a historic race. If ancestry is worth
+anything it should at least teach us to go about without pinning our
+hearts upon our sleeves."
+
+"But you," she murmured, "you have no heart."
+
+He looked down upon her then with still cold face and steady eyes.
+
+"Indeed," he said, "you are mistaken."
+
+She moved uneasily in her chair. She was very pale, except for a faint
+spot of pink colour in her cheeks.
+
+"It is very hard to find, then," she said, speaking quickly, her bosom
+rising and falling, her eyes always seeking to hold his. "To-night you
+see what I have done--I have, sent away my friends--and my carriage.
+They may know me here--you see what I have risked. And I don't care.
+You thought to-night that I was your enemy--and I am not. I am not your
+enemy at all."
+
+Her hand fell as though by accident upon his, and remained there. Mr.
+Sabin was very nearly embarrassed. He knew quite well that if she were
+not his enemy at that moment she would be very shortly.
+
+"Lucille," she continued, "will blame me too. I cannot help it. I want
+to tell you that for the present your separation from her is a certain
+thing. She acquiesces. You heard her. She is quite happy. She is at the
+ball to-night, and she has friends there who will make it pleasant for
+her. Won't you understand?"
+
+"No," Mr. Sabin answered.
+
+She beat the ground with her foot.
+
+"You must understand," she murmured. "You are not like these fools
+of Englishmen who go to sleep when they are married, and wake in the
+divorce court. For the present at least you have lost Lucille. You heard
+her choose. She's at the ball to-night--and I have come here to be with
+you. Won't you, please," she added, with a little nervous laugh, "show
+some gratitude?"
+
+The interruption which Mr. Sabin had prayed for came at last. The
+musicians had left, and many of the lights had been turned down. An
+official came across to them.
+
+"I beg your pardon, sir," he said, addressing Mr. Sabin, "but we are
+closing now, unless you are a guest in the hotel."
+
+"I am staying here," Mr. Sabin answered, rising, "but the lady--"
+
+Lady Carey interrupted him.
+
+"I am staying here also," she said to the man.
+
+He bowed at once and withdrew. She rose slowly to her feet and laid her
+fingers upon his arm. He looked steadily away from her.
+
+"Fortunately," he said, "I have not yet dismissed my own carriage.
+Permit me."
+
+      *          *            *           *           *
+
+Mr. Sabin leaned heavily upon his stick as he slowly made his way along
+the corridor to his rooms. Things were going ill with him indeed. He was
+not used to the fear of an enemy, but the memory of Lady Carey's white
+cheeks and indrawn lips as she had entered his carriage chilled him.
+Her one look, too, was a threat worse than any which her lips could
+have uttered. He was getting old indeed, he thought, wearily, when
+disappointment weighed so heavily upon him. And Lucille? Had he any
+real fears of her? He felt a little catch in his throat at the bare
+thought--in a moment's singular clearness of perception he realised that
+if Lucille were indeed lost the world was no longer a place for him. So
+his feet fell wearily upon the thickly carpeted floor of the corridor,
+and his face was unusually drawn and haggard as he opened the door of
+his sitting-room.
+
+And then--a transformation, amazing, stupefying. It was Lucille who
+was smiling a welcome upon him from the depths of his favourite
+easy-chair--Lucille sitting over his fire, a novel in her hand, and
+wearing a delightful rose-pink dressing-gown. Some of her belongings
+were scattered about his room, giving it a delicate air of femininity.
+The faint odour of her favourite and only perfume gave to her undoubted
+presence a wonderful sense of reality.
+
+She held out her hands to him, and the broad sleeves of her
+dressing-gown fell away from her white rounded arms. Her eyes were
+wonderfully soft, the pink upon her cheeks was the blush of a girl.
+
+"Victor," she murmured, "do not look so stupefied. Did you not believe
+that I would risk at least a little for you, who have risked so much for
+me? Only come to me! Make the most of me. All sorts of things are sure
+to happen directly I am found out."
+
+He took her into his arms. It was one of the moments of his lifetime.
+
+"Tell me," he murmured, "how have you dared to do this?"
+
+She laughed.
+
+"You know the Prince and his set. You know the way they bribe. Intrigues
+everywhere, new and old overlapping. They have really some reason for
+keeping you and me apart, but as regards my other movements, I am free
+enough. And they thought, Victor--don't be angry--but I let them
+think it was some one else. And I stole away from the ball, and they
+think--never mind what they think. But you, Victor, are my intrigue,
+you, my love, my husband!"
+
+Then all the fatigue and all the weariness, died away from Mr. Sabin's
+face. Once more the fire of youth burned in his heart. And Lucille
+laughed softly as her lips met his, and her head sank upon his shoulder.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+Lady Carey suddenly dropped her partner's arm. She had seen a man
+standing by himself with folded arms and moody face at the entrance
+to the ball-room. She raised her lorgnettes. His identity was
+unquestionable.
+
+"Will you excuse me for a moment, Captain Horton," she said to her
+escort. "I want particularly to speak to Mr. Brott."
+
+Captain Horton bowed with the slight disappointment of a hungry man on
+his way to the supper-room.
+
+"Don't be long," he begged. "The places are filling up."
+
+Lady Carey nodded and walked swiftly across to where Brott was standing.
+He moved eagerly forward to meet her.
+
+"Not dancing, Mr. Brott?"
+
+He shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"This sort of thing isn't much in my way," he answered. "I was rather
+hoping to see the Countess here. I trust that she is not indisposed."
+
+She looked at him steadily.
+
+"Do you mean," she said, "that you do not know where she is?"
+
+"I?" he answered in amazement. "How should I? I have not seen her at all
+this evening. I understood that she was to be here."
+
+Lady Carey hesitated. The man was too honest to be able to lie like
+this, even in a good cause. She stood quite still for a moment thinking.
+Several of her dearest friends had already told her that she was looking
+tired and ill this evening. At that moment she was positively haggard.
+
+"I have been down at Ranelagh this afternoon," she said slowly, "and
+dining out, so I have not seen Lucille. She was complaining of a
+headache yesterday, but I quite thought that she was coming here. Have
+you seen the Duchess?"
+
+He shook his head.
+
+"No. There is such a crowd."
+
+Lady Carey glanced towards her escort and turned away.
+
+"I will try and find out what has become of her," she said. "Don't go
+away yet."
+
+She rejoined her escort.
+
+"When we have found a table," she said, "I want you to keep my place for
+a few moments while I try and find some of my party."
+
+They passed into the supper-room, and appropriated a small table. Lady
+Carey left her partner, and made her way to the farther end of the
+apartment, where the Prince of Saxe Leinitzer was supping with half a
+dozen men and women. She touched him on the shoulder.
+
+"I want to speak to you for a moment, Ferdinand," she whispered.
+
+He rose at once, and she drew him a little apart.
+
+"Brott is here," she said slowly.
+
+"Brott here!" he repeated. "And Lucille?"
+
+"He is asking for her--expected to find her here. He is downstairs now,
+looking the picture of misery."
+
+He looked at her inquiringly. There was a curious steely light in
+her eyes, and she was showing her front teeth, which were a little
+prominent.
+
+"Do you think," he asked, "that she has deceived us?"
+
+"What else? Where are the Dorsets?"
+
+"The Duchess is with the Earl of Condon, and some more people at the
+round table under the balcony."
+
+"Give me your arm," she whispered. "We must go and ask her."
+
+They crossed the room together. Lady Carey sank into a vacant chair by
+the side of the Duchess and talked for a few minutes to the people whom
+she knew. Then she turned and whispered in the Duchess's ear.
+
+"Where is Lucille?"
+
+The Duchess looked at her with a meaning smile.
+
+"How should I know? She left when we did."
+
+"Alone?"
+
+"Yes. It was all understood, wasn't it?"
+
+Lady Carey laughed unpleasantly.
+
+"She has fooled us," she said. "Brott is here alone. Knows nothing of
+her."
+
+The Duchess was puzzled.
+
+"Well, I know nothing more than you do," she answered. "Are you sure the
+man is telling the truth?"
+
+"Of course. He is the image of despair."
+
+"I am sure she was in earnest," the Duchess said. "When I asked her
+whether she should come on here she laughed a little nervously, and said
+perhaps or something of that sort."
+
+"The fool may have bungled it," Lady Carey said thoughtfully. "I will
+go back to him. There's that idiot of a partner of mine. I must go and
+pretend to have some supper."
+
+Captain Horton found his vis-a-vis a somewhat unsatisfactory companion.
+She drank several glasses of champagne, ate scarcely anything, and
+rushed him away before he had taken the edge off his appetite. He
+brought her to the Duchess and went back in a huff to finish his supper
+alone. Lady Carey went downstairs and discovered Mr. Brott, who had
+scarcely moved.
+
+"Have you seen anything of her?" she asked.
+
+He shook his head gloomily.
+
+"No! It is too late for her to come now, isn't it?"
+
+"Take me somewhere where we can talk," she said abruptly. "One of those
+seats in the recess will do."
+
+He obeyed her, and they found a retired corner. Lady Carey wasted no
+time in fencing.
+
+"I am Lucille's greatest friend, Mr. Brott, and her confidante," she
+said.
+
+He nodded.
+
+"So I have understood."
+
+"She tells me everything."
+
+He glanced towards her a little uneasily.
+
+"That is comprehensive!" he remarked.
+
+"It is true," she answered. "Lucille has told me a great deal about your
+friendship! Come, there is no use in our mincing words. Lucille has
+been badly treated years ago, and she has a perfect right to seek any
+consolation she may find. The old fashioned ideas, thank goodness, do
+not hold any longer amongst us. It is not necessary to tie yourself for
+life to a man in order to procure a little diversion."
+
+"I will not pretend to misunderstand you, Lady Carey," he said gravely,
+"but I must decline to discuss the Countess of Radantz in connection
+with such matters."
+
+"Oh, come!" she declared impatiently; "remember that I am her friend.
+Yours is quite the proper attitude, but with me it doesn't matter. Now
+I am going to ask you a plain question. Had you any engagement with
+Lucille to-night?"
+
+She watched him mercilessly. He was colouring like a boy. Lady Carey's
+thin lips curled. She had no sympathy with such amateurish love-making.
+Nevertheless, his embarrassment was a great relief to her.
+
+"She promised to be here," he answered stiffly.
+
+"Everything depends upon your being honest with me," she continued.
+"You will see from my question that I know. Was there not something said
+about supper at your rooms before or after the dance?"
+
+"I cannot discuss this matter with you or any living person," he
+answered. "If you know so much why ask me?"
+
+Lady Carey could have shaken the man, but she restrained herself.
+
+"It is sufficient!" she declared. "What I cannot understand is why you
+are here--when Lucille is probably awaiting for you at your rooms."
+
+He started from his chair as though he had been shot.
+
+"What do you mean?" he exclaimed. "She was to--"
+
+He stopped short. Lady Carey shrugged her shoulders.
+
+"Oh, written you or something, I suppose!" she exclaimed. "Trust an
+Englishman for bungling a love affair. All I can tell you is that she
+left Dorset House in a hansom without the others, and said some thing
+about having supper with some friends."
+
+Brott sprang to his feet and took a quick step towards the exit.
+
+"It is not possible!" he exclaimed.
+
+She took his arm. He almost dragged her along.
+
+"Well, we are going to see," she said coolly. "Tell the man to call a
+hansom."
+
+They drove almost in silence through the Square to Pall Mall. Brott
+leaped out onto the pavement directly the cab pulled up.
+
+"I will wait here," Lady Carey said. "I only want to know that Lucille
+is safe."
+
+He disappeared, and she sat forward in the cab drumming idly with
+her forefingers upon the apron. In a few minutes he came back. His
+appearance was quite sufficient. He was very pale. The change in him was
+so ludicrous that she laughed.
+
+"Get in," she said. "I am going round to Dorset House. We must find out
+if we can what has become of her."
+
+He obeyed without comment. At Dorset House Lady Carey summoned the
+Duchess's own maid.
+
+"Marie," she said, "you were attending upon the Countess Radantz
+to-night?"
+
+"Yes, my lady."
+
+"At what time did she leave?"
+
+"At about, eleven, my lady."
+
+"Alone?"
+
+"Yes, my lady."
+
+Lady Carey looked steadily at the girl.
+
+"Did she take anything with her?"
+
+The girl hesitated. Lady Carey frowned.
+
+"It must be the truth, remember, Marie."
+
+"Certainly, my lady! She took her small dressing-case."
+
+Lady Carey set her teeth hard. Then with a movement of her head she
+dismissed the maid. She walked restlessly up and down the room. Then she
+stopped short with a hard little laugh.
+
+"If I give way like this," she murmured, "I shall be positively hideous,
+and after all, if she was there it was not possible for him--"
+
+She stopped short, and suddenly tearing the handkerchief which she had
+been carrying into shreds threw the pieces upon the floor, and stamped
+upon them. Then she laughed shortly, and turned towards the door.
+
+"Now I must go and get rid of that poor fool outside," she said. "What a
+bungler!"
+
+Brott was beside himself with impatience.
+
+"Lucille is here," she announced, stepping in beside him. "She has a
+shocking headache and has gone to bed. As a matter of fact, I believe
+that she was expecting to hear from you."
+
+"Impossible!" he answered shortly. He was beginning to distrust this
+woman.
+
+"Never mind. You can make it up with her to-morrow. I was foolish to be
+anxious about her at all. Are you coming in again?"
+
+They were at Carmarthen House. He handed her out.
+
+"No, thanks! If you will allow me I will wish you good-night."
+
+She made her way into the ball-room, and found the Prince of Saxe
+Leinitzer, who was just leaving.
+
+"Do you know where Lucille is?" she asked.
+
+He looked up at her sharply. "Where?"
+
+"At the Carlton Hotel--with him."
+
+He rose to his feet with slow but evil promptitude. His face just then
+was very unlike the face of an angel. Lady Carey laughed aloud.
+
+"Poor man," she said mockingly. "It is always the same when you and
+Souspennier meet."
+
+He set his teeth.
+
+"This time," he muttered, "I hold the trumps."
+
+She pointed at the clock. It was nearly four. "She was there at eleven,"
+she remarked drily.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+"His Highness, the Prince of Saxe Leinitzer!"
+
+Duson stood away from the door with a low bow. The Prince--in the
+buttonhole of whose frock-coat was a large bunch of Russian violets,
+passed across the threshold. Mr. Sabin rose slowly from his chair.
+
+"I fear," the Prince said suavely, "that I am an early visitor. I can
+only throw myself upon your indulgence and plead the urgency of my
+mission."
+
+His arrival appeared to have interrupted a late breakfast of the
+Continental order. The small table at which Lucille and Mr. Sabin were
+seated was covered with roses and several dishes of wonderful fruit. A
+coffee equipage was before Lucille. Mr. Sabin, dressed with his usual
+peculiar care and looking ten years younger, had just lit a cigarette.
+
+"We have been anticipating your visit, Prince," Mr. Sabin remarked, with
+grim courtesy. "Can we offer you coffee or a liqueur?"
+
+"I thank you, no," the Prince answered. "I seldom take anything
+before lunch. Let me beg that you do not disturb yourselves. With your
+permission I will take this easy-chair. So! That is excellent. We can
+now talk undisturbed."
+
+Mr. Sabin bowed.
+
+"You will find me," he said, "an excellent listener."
+
+The Prince smiled in an amiable manner. His eyes were fixed upon
+Lucille, who had drawn her chair a little away from the table. What
+other woman in the world who had passed her first youth could sit thus
+in the slanting sunlight and remain beautiful?
+
+"I will ask you to believe," the Prince said slowly, "how sincerely
+I regret this unavoidable interference in a domestic happiness so
+touching. Nevertheless, I have come for the Countess. It is necessary
+that she returns to Dorset House this morning."
+
+"You will oblige me," Mr. Sabin remarked, "by remembering that my wife
+is the Duchesse de Souspennier, and by so addressing her."
+
+The Prince spread out his hands--a deprecating gesture.
+
+"Alas!" he said, "for the present it is not possible. Until the little
+affair upon which we are now engaged is finally disposed of it is
+necessary that Lucille should be known by the title which she bears
+in her own right, or by the name of her late husband, Mr. James B.
+Peterson."
+
+"That little affair," Mr. Sabin remarked, "is, I presume, the matter
+which you have come to explain to me."
+
+The Prince smiled and shook his head.
+
+"Explain! My dear Duke, that is not possible. It is not within your
+rights to ask questions or to require any explanation as to anything
+which Lucille is required to do by us. You must remember that our claim
+upon her comes before yours. It is a claim which she cannot evade or
+deny. And in pursuance of it, Countess, I deeply regret having to
+tell you that your presence at Dorset House within the next hour is
+demanded."
+
+Lucille made no answer, but looked across the table at Mr. Sabin with a
+little grimace.
+
+"It is a comedy," she murmured. "After all, it is a comedy!"
+
+Mr. Sabin fingered his cigarette thoughtfully.
+
+"I believe," he said, "that the Duchess realises her responsibilities in
+this matter. I myself have no wish to deny them. As ordinary members
+we are both pledged to absolute obedience. I therefore place no embargo
+upon the return of my wife to Dorset House. But there are certain
+conditions, Prince, that considering the special circumstances of the
+case I feel impelled to propose."
+
+"I can recognise," the Prince said, "no conditions."
+
+"They are very harmless," Mr. Sabin continued calmly. "The first is that
+in a friendly way, and of course under the inviolable law of secrecy,
+you explain to me for what part Lucille is cast in this little comedy;
+the next that I be allowed to see her at reasonable intervals,
+and finally that she is known by her rightful name as Duchesse de
+Souspennier."
+
+The forced urbanity which the Prince had assumed fell away from him
+without warning. The tone of his reply was almost a sneer.
+
+"I repeat," he said, "that I can recognise no conditions."
+
+"It is perhaps," Mr. Sabin continued, "the wrong word to use. We submit
+to your authority, but you and I are well aware that your discretionary
+powers are large. I ask you to use them."
+
+"And I," the Prince said, "refuse. Let me add that I intend to prevent
+any recurrence of your little adventure of last night. Lucille shall not
+see you again until her task is over. And as for you, my dear Duke, I
+desire only your absence. I do not wish to hurt your feelings, but your
+name has been associated in the past with too many failures to inspire
+us with any confidence in engaging you as an ally. Countess, a carriage
+from Dorset House awaits you."
+
+But Lucille sat still, and Mr. Sabin rose slowly to his feet.
+
+"I thank you, Prince," he said, "for throwing away the mask. Fighting
+is always better without the buttons. It is true that I have failed
+more than once, but it is also true that my failures have been more
+magnificent than your waddle across the plain of life. As for your
+present authority, I challenge you to your face that you are using it to
+gain your private ends. What I have said to you I shall repeat to those
+whose place is above yours. Lucille shall go to Dorset House, but I warn
+you that I hold my life a slight thing where her welfare is concerned.
+Your hand is upon the lever of a great organization, I am only a unit
+in the world. Yet I would have you remember that more than once, Prince,
+when you and I have met with the odds in your favour the victory has
+been mine. Play the game fairly, and you have nothing to fear from me
+but the open opposition I have promised you. Bring but the shadow of
+evil upon her, misuse your power but ever so slightly against her, and
+I warn you that I shall count the few years of life left to me a
+trifle--of less than no account--until you and I cry quits."
+
+The Prince smiled, a fat, good-natured smile, behind which the malice
+was indeed well hidden.
+
+"Come, come, my dear Souspennier," he declared. "This is unworthy of
+you. It is positively melodramatic. It reminds me of the plays of my
+Fatherland, and of your own Adelphi Theatre. We should be men of the
+world, you and I. You must take your defeats with your victories. I can
+assure you that the welfare of the Countess Lucille shall be my special
+care."
+
+Lucille for the first time spoke. She rose from her chair and rested her
+hands affectionately upon her husband's shoulder.
+
+"Dear Victor," she said, "remember that we are in London, and, need
+I add, have confidence in me. The Prince of Saxe Leinitzer and I
+understand one another, I believe. If we do not it is not my fault. My
+presence here at this moment should prove to you how eagerly I shall
+look forward to the time when our separation is no longer necessary."
+
+She passed away into the inner room with a little farewell gesture
+tender and regretful. Mr. Sabin resumed his seat.
+
+"I believe, Prince," he said, "that no good can come of any further
+conference between you and me. We understand one another too well. Might
+I suggest therefore that you permit me to ring?"
+
+The Prince rose to his feet.
+
+"You are right," he said. "The bandying of words between you and me is a
+waste of time. We are both of us too old at the game. But come, before
+I go I will do you a good turn. I will prove that I am in a generous
+mood."
+
+Mr. Sabin shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"If anything in this world could inspire me with fear," he remarked, "it
+would be the generosity of the Prince of Saxe Leinitzer."
+
+The Prince sighed.
+
+"You always misunderstand me," he murmured. "However, I will prove my
+words. You spoke of an appeal."
+
+"Certainly," Mr. Sabin answered. "I intend to impeach you for making
+use of the powers entrusted to you for your own private ends--in other
+words, for making an arbitrary misuse of your position."
+
+The Prince nodded.
+
+"It is very well put," he said. "I shall await the result of your appeal
+in fear and trembling. I confess that I am very much afraid. But, come
+now, I am going to be generous. I am going to help you on a little. Do
+you know to whom your appeal must be made?"
+
+"To the Grand Duke!" Mr. Sabin replied.
+
+The Prince shook his head.
+
+"Ah me!" he said, "how long indeed you have been absent from the world.
+The Grand Duke is no longer the head of our little affair. Shall I tell
+you who has succeeded him?"
+
+"I can easily find out," Mr. Sabin answered.
+
+"Ah, but I warned you that I was in a generous mood," the Prince said,
+with a smile. "I will save you the trouble. With your permission I will
+whisper the name in your ear. It is not one which we mention lightly."
+
+He stepped forward and bent his head for a moment. Afterwards, as he
+drew back, the smile upon his lips broadened until he showed all his
+teeth. It was a veritable triumph. Mr. Sabin, taken wholly by surprise,
+had not been able to conceal his consternation.
+
+"It is not possible," he exclaimed hoarsely. "He would not dare."
+
+But in his heart he knew that the Prince had spoken the truth.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+"After all," said the Prince, looking up from the wine list, "why cannot
+I be satisfied with you? And why cannot you be satisfied with me? It
+would save so much trouble."
+
+Lady Carey, who was slowly unwinding the white veil from her picture
+hat, shrugged her shoulders.
+
+"My dear man," she said, "you could not seriously expect me to fall in
+love with you."
+
+The Prince sipped his wine--a cabinet hock of rare vintage--and found it
+good. He leaned over towards his companion.
+
+"Why not?" he asked. "I wish that you would try--in earnest, I mean.
+You are capable of great things, I believe--perhaps of the great passion
+itself."
+
+"Perhaps," she murmured derisively.
+
+"And yet," he continued, "there has always been in our love-making a
+touch of amateurishness. It is an awkward word, but I do not know how
+better to explain myself."
+
+"I understand you perfectly," she answered. "I can also, I think,
+explain it. It is because I never cared a rap about you."
+
+The Prince did not appear altogether pleased. He curled his fair
+moustache, and looked deprecatingly at his companion. She had so much
+the air of a woman who has spoken the truth.
+
+"My dear Muriel!" he protested.
+
+She looked at him insolently.
+
+"My good man," she said, "whatever you do don't try and be sentimental.
+You know quite well that I have never in my life pretended to care a rap
+about you--except to pass the time. You are altogether too obvious. Very
+young girls and very old women would rave about you. You simply don't
+appeal to me. Perhaps I know you too well. What does it matter!"
+
+He sighed and examined a sauce critically. They were lunching at
+Prince's alone, at a small table near the wall.
+
+"Your taste," he remarked a little spitefully, "would be considered a
+trifle strange. Souspennier carries his years well, but he must be an
+old man."
+
+She sipped her wine thoughtfully.
+
+"Old or young," she said, "he is a man, and all my life I have loved
+men,--strong men. To have him here opposite to me at this moment, mine,
+belonging to me, the slave of my will, I would give--well, I would
+give--a year of my life--my new tiara--anything!"
+
+"What a pity," he murmured, "that we cannot make an exchange, you and I,
+Lucille and he!"
+
+"Ah, Lucille!" she murmured. "Well, she is beautiful. That goes for
+much. And she has the grand air. But, heavens, how stupid!"
+
+"Stupid!" he repeated doubtfully.
+
+She drummed nervously upon the tablecloth with her fingers.
+
+"Oh, not stupid in the ordinary way, of course, but yet a fool. I should
+like to see man or devil try and separate us if I belonged to him--until
+I was tired of him. That would come, of course. It comes always. It is
+the hideous part of life."
+
+"You look always," he said, "a little too far forward. It is a mistake.
+After all, it is the present only which concerns us."
+
+"Admirable philosophy," she laughed scornfully, "but when one is
+bored to death in the present one must look forward or backward for
+consolation."
+
+He continued his lunch in silence for a while.
+
+"I am rebuked!" he said.
+
+There came a pause in the courses. He looked at her critically. She was
+very handsomely dressed in a walking costume of dove-coloured grey. The
+ostrich feathers which drooped from her large hat were almost priceless.
+She had the undeniable air of being a person of breeding. But she
+was paler even than usual, her hair, notwithstanding its careful
+arrangement, gave signs of being a little thin in front. There were
+wrinkles at the corners of her eyes. She knew these things, but she bore
+his inspection with indifference.
+
+"I wonder," he said reflectively, "what we men see in you. You have
+plenty of admirers. They say that Grefton got himself shot out at the
+front because you treated him badly. Yet--you are not much to look at,
+are you?"
+
+She laughed at him. Hers was never a pleasant laugh, but this time it
+was at least natural.
+
+"How discriminating," she declared. "I am an ugly woman, and men of
+taste usually prefer ugly women. Then I am always well dressed. I know
+how to wear my clothes. And I have a shocking reputation. A really
+wicked woman, I once heard pious old Lady Surbiton call me! Dear old
+thing! It did me no end of good. Then I have the very great advantage
+of never caring for any one more than a few days together. Men find that
+annoying."
+
+"You have violent fancies," he remarked, "and strange ones."
+
+"Perhaps," she admitted. "They concern no one except myself."
+
+"This Souspennier craze, for instance!"
+
+She nodded.
+
+"Well, you can't say that I'm not honest. It is positively my only
+virtue. I adore the truth. I loathe a lie. That is one reason, I
+daresay, why I can only barely tolerate you. You are a shocking--a gross
+liar."
+
+"Muriel!"
+
+"Oh, don't look at me like that," she exclaimed irritably. "You must
+hear the truth sometimes. And now, please remember that I came to lunch
+with you to hear about your visit this morning."
+
+The Prince gnawed his moustache, and the light in his eyes was not
+a pleasant thing to see. This woman with her reckless life, her odd
+fascination, her brusque hatred of affectations, was a constant torment
+to him. If only he could once get her thoroughly into his power.
+
+"My visit," he said, "was wholly successful. It could not well be
+otherwise. Lucille has returned to Dorset House. Souspennier is
+confounded altogether by a little revelation which I ventured to make.
+He spoke of an appeal. I let him know with whom he would have to deal.
+I left him nerveless and crushed. He can do nothing save by open revolt.
+And if he tries that--well, there will be no more of this wonderful Mr.
+Sabin."
+
+"Altogether a triumph to you," she remarked scornfully. "Oh, I know the
+sort of thing. But, after all, my dear Ferdinand, what of last night.
+I hate the woman, but she played the game, and played it well. We were
+fooled, both of us. And to think that I--"
+
+She broke off with a short laugh. The Prince looked at her curiously.
+
+"Perhaps," he said, "you had some idea of consoling the desolate
+husband?"
+
+"Perhaps I had," she answered coolly. "It didn't come off, did it? Order
+me some coffee, and give me a cigarette, my friend. I have something
+else to say to you."
+
+He obeyed her, and she leaned back in the high chair.
+
+"Listen to me," she said. "I have nothing whatever to do with you and
+Lucille. I suppose you will get your revenge on Souspennier through her.
+It won't be like you if you don't try, and you ought to have the game
+pretty well in your own hands. But I won't have Souspennier harmed. You
+understand?"
+
+He shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"Souspennier," he said, "must take care. If he oversteps the bounds he
+must pay the penalty."
+
+She leaned forward. There was a look in her face which he knew very
+well.
+
+"You and I understand one another," she said coolly. "If you want me for
+an enemy you can have me. Very likely I shall tell you before long that
+you can do what you like with the man. But until I do it will be very
+dangerous for you if harm comes to him."
+
+"It is no use," he answered doggedly. "If he attacks he must be
+silenced."
+
+"If he attacks," she answered, "you must give me twenty-four hours clear
+notice before you move a hand against him. Afterwards--well, we will
+discuss that."
+
+"You had better," he said, looking at her with an ugly gleam in his
+eyes, "persuade him to take you for a little tour on the Continent. It
+would be safer."
+
+"If he would come," she said coolly, "I would go to-morrow. But he
+won't--just yet. Never mind. You have heard what I wanted to say. Now
+shall we go? I am going to get some sleep this afternoon. Everybody
+tells me that I look like a ghost."
+
+"Why not come to Grosvenor Square with me?" he leaning a little across
+the table. "Patoff shall make you some Russian tea, and afterwards you
+shall sleep as long as you like."
+
+"How idyllic!" she answered, with a faint sarcastic smile. "It goes
+to my heart to decline so charming an invitation. But, to tell you the
+truth, it would bore me excessively."
+
+He muttered something under his breath which startled the waiter at
+his elbow. Then he followed her out of the room. She paused for a few
+moments in the portico to finish buttoning her gloves.
+
+"Many thanks for my lunch," she said, nodding to him carelessly. "I'm
+sure I've been a delightful companion."
+
+"You have been a very tormenting one," he answered gloomily as he
+followed her out on to the pavement.
+
+"You should try Lucille," she suggested maliciously.
+
+He stood by her side while they waited for her carriage, and looked
+at her critically. Her slim, elegant figure had never seemed more
+attractive to him. Even the insolence of her tone and manner had an odd
+sort of fascination. He tried to hold for a moment the fingers which
+grasped her skirt.
+
+"I think," he whispered, "that after you Lucille would be dull!"
+
+She laughed.
+
+"That is because Lucille has morals and a conscience," she said, "and
+I have neither. But, dear me, how much more comfortably one gets on
+without them. No, thank you, Prince. My coupe is only built for one.
+Remember."
+
+She flung him a careless nod from the window. The Prince remained on the
+pavement until after the little brougham had driven away. Then he smiled
+softly to himself as he turned to follow it.
+
+"No!" he said. "I think not! I think that she will not get our good
+friend Souspennier. We shall see!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+A barely furnished man's room, comfortable, austere, scholarly. The
+refuge of a busy man, to judge by the piles of books and papers which
+littered the large open writing-table. There were despatch boxes turned
+upside down, a sea of parchment and foolscap. In the midst of it all a
+man deep in thought.
+
+A visitor, entering with the freedom of an old acquaintance, laid
+his hand upon his shoulder and greeted him with an air of suppressed
+enthusiasm.
+
+"Planning the campaign, eh, Brott? Or is that a handbook to Court
+etiquette? You will need it within the week. There are all sorts of
+rumours at the clubs."
+
+Brott shook himself free from his fit of apathetic reflection. He would
+not have dared to tell his visitor where his thoughts had been for the
+last half hour.
+
+"Somehow," he said, "I do not think that little trip to Windsor will
+come just yet. The King will never send for me unless he is compelled."
+
+His visitor, an ex-Cabinet Minister, a pronounced Radical and a lifelong
+friend of Brott's, shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"That time," he said, "is very close at hand. He will send for
+Letheringham first, of course, and great pressure will be brought to
+bear upon him to form a ministry. But without you he will be helpless.
+He has not the confidence of the people."
+
+"Without me," Brott repeated slowly. "You think then that I should not
+accept office with Letheringham?"
+
+His visitor regarded him steadily for a moment, open-mouthed, obviously
+taken aback.
+
+"Brott, are you in your right senses?" he asked incredulously. "Do you
+know what you are saying?"
+
+Brott laughed a little nervously.
+
+"This is a great issue, Grahame," he said. "I will confess that I am in
+an undecided state. I am not sure that the country is in a sufficiently
+advanced state for our propaganda. Is this really our opportunity, or is
+it only the shadow of what is to come thrown before? If we show our hand
+too soon all is lost for this generation. Don't look at me as though I
+were insane, Grahame. Remember that the country is only just free from a
+long era of Conservative rule."
+
+"The better our opportunity," Grahame answered vigorously. "Two decades
+of puppet government are enervating, I admit, but they only pave the
+way more surely to the inevitable reaction. What is the matter with
+you, Brott? Are you ill? This is the great moment of our lives. You must
+speak at Manchester and Birmingham within this week. Glasgow is already
+preparing for you. Everything and everybody waits for your judgment.
+Good God, man, it's magnificent! Where's your enthusiasm? Within a month
+you must be Prime Minister, and we will show the world the way to a new
+era."
+
+Brott sat quite still. His friend's words had stirred him for the
+moment. Yet he seemed the victim of a curious indecision. Grahame leaned
+over towards him.
+
+"Brott, old friend," he said, "you are not ill?"
+
+Brott shook his head.
+
+"I am perfectly well," he said.
+
+Grahame hesitated.
+
+"It is a delicate thing to mention," he said. "Perhaps I shall pass even
+the bounds of our old comradeship. But you have changed. Something is
+wrong with you. What is it?"
+
+"There is nothing," Brott answered, looking up. "It is your fancy. I am
+well enough."
+
+Grahame's face was dark with anxiety.
+
+"This is no idle curiosity of mine," he said. "You know me better than
+that. But the cause which is nearer my heart than life itself is at
+stake. Brott, you are the people's man, their promised redeemer. Think
+of them, the toilers, the oppressed, God's children, groaning under the
+iniquitous laws of generations of evil statesmanship. It is the dawn of
+their new day, their faces are turned to you. Man, can't you hear them
+crying? You can't fail them. You mustn't. I don't know what is the
+matter with you, Brott, but away with it. Free yourself, man."
+
+Brott sighed wearily, but already there was a change in him. His
+face was hardening--the lines in his face deepened. Grahame continued
+hastily--eagerly.
+
+"Public men," he said, "are always at the mercy of the halfpenny press,
+but you know, Brott, your appearance so often in Society lately has set
+men's tongues wagging. There is no harm done, but it is time to stop
+them. You are right to want to understand these people. You must go down
+amongst them. It has been slumming in Mayfair for you, I know. But have
+done with it now. It is these people we are going to fight. Let it be
+open war. Let them hear your programme at Glasgow. We don't want another
+French Revolution, but it is going to be war against the drones, fierce,
+merciless war! You must break with them, Brott, once and for ever. And
+the time is now."
+
+Brott held out his hand across the table. No one but this one man could
+have read the struggle in his face.
+
+"You are right, Grahame. I thank you. I thank you as much for what you
+have left unsaid as for what you have said. I was a fool to think of
+compromising. Letheringham is a nerveless leader. We should have gone
+pottering on for another seven years. Thank God that you came when you
+did. See here!"
+
+He tossed him over a letter. Grahame's cheek paled as he read.
+
+"Already!" he murmured.
+
+Brott nodded.
+
+"Read it!"
+
+Grahame devoured every word. His eyes lit up with excitement.
+
+"My prophecy exactly," he exclaimed, laying it down. "It is as I said.
+He cannot form the ministry without you. His letter is abject. He gives
+himself away. It is an entreaty. And your answer?"
+
+"Has not yet gone," Brott said. "You shall write it yourself if you
+like. I am thankful that you came when you did."
+
+"You were hesitating?" Grahame exclaimed.
+
+"I was."
+
+Grahame looked at him in wonder, and Brott faced him sturdily.
+
+"It seems like treason to you, Grahame!" he said. "So it does to me
+now. I want nothing in the future to come between us," he continued
+more slowly, "and I should like if I can to expunge the memory of this
+interview. And so I am going to tell you the truth." Grahame held out
+his hand.
+
+"Don't!" he said. "I can forget without."
+
+Brott shook his head.
+
+"No," he said. "You had better understand everything. The halfpenny
+press told the truth. Yet only half the truth. I have been to all
+these places, wasted my time, wasted their time, from a purely selfish
+reason--to be near the only woman I have ever cared for, the woman,
+Grahame!"
+
+"I knew it," Grahame murmured. "I fought against the belief, I thought
+that I had stifled it. But I knew it all the time."
+
+"If I have seemed lukewarm sometimes of late," Brott said, "there is the
+cause. She is an aristocrat, and my politics are hateful to her. She has
+told me so seriously, playfully, angrily. She has let me feel it in a
+hundred ways. She has drawn me into discussions and shown the utmost
+horror of my views. I have cared for her all my life, and she knows
+it. And I think, Grahame, that lately she has been trying constantly,
+persistently, to tone down my opinions. She has let me understand that
+they are a bar between us. And it is a horrible confession, Grahame, but
+I believe that I was wavering. This invitation from Letheringham seemed
+such a wonderful opportunity for compromise."
+
+"This must never go out of the room," Grahame said hoarsely. "It would
+ruin your popularity. They would never trust you again."
+
+"I shall tell no one else," Brott said.
+
+"And it is over?" Grahame demanded eagerly.
+
+"It is over."
+
+     *           *           *           *           *
+
+The Duke of Dorset, who entertained for his party, gave a great dinner
+that night at Dorset House, and towards its close the Prince of Saxe
+Leinitzer, who was almost the only non-political guest, moved up to his
+host in response to an eager summons. The Duke was perturbed.
+
+"You have heard the news, Saxe Leinitzer?"
+
+"I did not know of any news," the Prince answered. "What is it?"
+
+"Brott has refused to join with Letheringham in forming a ministry. It
+is rumoured even that a coalition was proposed, and that Brott would
+have nothing to do with it."
+
+The Prince looked into his wineglass.
+
+"Ah!" he said.
+
+"This is disturbing news," the Duke continued. "You do not seem to
+appreciate its significance."
+
+The Prince looked up again.
+
+"Perhaps not," he said. "You shall explain to me."
+
+"Brott refuses to compromise," the Duke said. "He stands for a ministry
+of his own selection. Heaven only knows what mischief this may mean.
+His doctrines are thoroughly revolutionary. He is an iconoclast with a
+genius for destruction. But he has the ear of the people. He is to-day
+their Rienzi."
+
+The Prince nodded.
+
+"And Lucille?" he remarked. "What does she say?"
+
+"I have not spoken to her," the Duke answered. "The news has only just
+come."
+
+"We will speak to her," the Prince said, "together."
+
+Afterwards in the library there was a sort of informal meeting, and
+their opportunity came.
+
+"So you have failed, Countess," her host said, knitting his grey brows
+at her.
+
+She smilingly acknowledged defeat.
+
+"But I can assure you," she said, "that I was very near success. Only
+on Monday he had virtually made up his mind to abandon the extreme party
+and cast in his lot with Letheringham. What has happened to change him I
+do not know."
+
+The Prince curled his fair moustache.
+
+"It is a pity," he said, "that he changed his mind. For one thing is
+very certain. The Duke and I are agreed upon it. A Brott ministry must
+never be formed."
+
+She looked up quickly.
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+The Prince answered her without hesitation.
+
+"If one course fails," he said, "another must be adopted. I regret
+having to make use of means which are somewhat clumsy and obvious. But
+our pronouncement on this one point is final. Brott must not be allowed
+to form a ministry."
+
+She looked at him with something like horror in her soft full eyes.
+
+"What would you do?" she murmured.
+
+The Prince shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"Well," he said, "we are not quite medieval enough to adopt the only
+really sensible method and remove Mr. Brott permanently from the face of
+the earth. We should stop a little short of that, but I can assure you
+that Mr. Brott's health for the next few months is a matter for grave
+uncertainty. It is a pity for his sake that you failed."
+
+She bit her lip.
+
+"Do you know if he is still in London?" she asked.
+
+"He must be on the point of leaving for Scotland," the Duke answered.
+"If he once mounts the platform at Glasgow there will be no further
+chance of any compromise. He will be committed irretrievably to his
+campaign of anarchy."
+
+"And to his own disaster," the Prince murmured.
+
+Lucille remained for a moment deep in thought. Then she looked up.
+
+"If I can find him before he starts," she said hurriedly, "I will make
+one last effort."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV
+
+He peered forward over his desk at the tall graceful figure whose
+entrance had been so noiseless, and whose footsteps had been so light
+that she stood almost within a few feet of him before he was even aware
+of her presence. Then his surprise was so great that he could only gasp
+out her name.
+
+"You! Lucille!"
+
+She smiled upon him delightfully.
+
+"Me! Lucille! Don't blame your servant. I assured him that I was
+expected, so he allowed me to enter unannounced. His astonishment was
+a delightful testimony to your reputation, by the bye. He was evidently
+not used to these invasions."
+
+Brott had recovered himself by this time, and if any emotion still
+remained he was master of it.
+
+"You must forgive my surprise!" he said. "You have of course something
+important to say to me. Will you not loosen your cloak?"
+
+She unfastened the clasp and seated herself in his most comfortable
+chair. The firelight flashed and glittered on the silver ornaments of
+her dress; her neck and arms, with their burden of jewels, gleamed like
+porcelain in the semi-darkness outside the halo of his student lamp. And
+he saw that her dark hair hung low behind in graceful folds as he had
+once admired it. He stood a little apart, and she noted his traveling
+clothes and the various signs of a journey about the room.
+
+"You may be glad to see me," she remarked, looking at him with a smile.
+"You don't look it."
+
+"I am anxious to hear your news," he answered. "I am convinced that you
+have something important to say to me."
+
+"Supposing," she answered, still looking at him steadily, "supposing
+I were to say that I had no object in coming here at all--that it was
+merely a whim? What should you say then?"
+
+"I should take the liberty," he answered quietly, "of doubting the
+evidence of my senses."
+
+There was a moment's silence. She felt his aloofness. It awoke in her
+some of the enthusiasm with which this mission itself had failed to
+inspire her. This man was measuring his strength against hers.
+
+"It was not altogether a whim," she said, her eyes falling from his,
+"and yet--now I am here--it does not seem easy to say what was in my
+mind."
+
+He glanced towards the clock.
+
+"I fear," he said, "that it may sound ungallant, but in case this
+somewhat mysterious mission of yours is of any importance I had better
+perhaps tell you that in twenty minutes I must leave to catch the Scotch
+mail."
+
+She rose at once to her feet, and swept her cloak haughtily around her.
+
+"I have made a mistake," she said. "Be so good as to pardon my
+intrusion. I shall not trouble you again."
+
+She was half-way across the room. She was at the door, her hand was upon
+the handle. He was white to the lips, his whole frame was shaking with
+the effort of intense repression. He kept silence, till only a flutter
+of her cloak was to be seen in the doorway. And then the cry which he
+had tried so hard to stifle broke from his lips.
+
+"Lucille! Lucille!"
+
+She hesitated, and came back--looking at him, so he thought, with
+trembling lips and eyes soft with unshed tears.
+
+"I was a brute," he murmured. "I ought to be grateful for this chance of
+seeing you once more, of saying good-bye to you."
+
+"Good-bye!" she repeated.
+
+"Yes," he said gravely. "It must be good-bye. I have a great work before
+me, and it will cut me off completely from all association with your
+world and your friends. Something wider and deeper than an ocean will
+divide us. Something so wide that our hands will never reach across."
+
+"You can talk about it very calmly," she said, without looking at him.
+
+"I have been disciplining myself," he answered.
+
+She rested her face upon her hand, and looked into the fire.
+
+"I suppose," she said, "this means that you have refused Mr.
+Letheringham's offer."
+
+"I have refused it," he answered.
+
+"I am sorry," she said simply.
+
+She rose from her chair with a sudden start, began to draw on her cloak,
+and then let it fall altogether from her shoulders.
+
+"Why do you do this?" she asked earnestly. "Is it that you are so
+ambitious? You used not to be so--in the old days."
+
+He laughed bitterly.
+
+"You too, then," he said, "can remember. Ambitious! Well, why not? To
+be Premier of England, to stand for the people, to carry through to its
+logical consummation a bloodless revolution, surely this is worth while.
+Is there anything in the world better worth having than power?"
+
+"Yes," she answered, looking him full in the eyes.
+
+"What is it then? Let me know before it is too late."
+
+"Love!"
+
+He threw his arms about her. For a moment she was powerless in his
+grasp.
+
+"So be it then," he cried fiercely. "Give me the one, and I will deny
+the other. Only no half measures! I will drink to the bottom of the cup
+or not at all."
+
+She shook herself free from him, breathless, consumed with an anger to
+which she dared not give voice. For a moment or two she was speechless.
+Her bosom rose and fell, a bright streak of colour flared in her cheeks.
+Brott stood away from her, white and stern.
+
+"You--are clumsy!" she said. "You frighten me!"
+
+Her words carried no conviction. He looked at her with a new suspicion.
+
+"You talk like a child," he answered roughly, "or else your whole
+conduct is a fraud. For months I have been your slave. I have abandoned
+my principles, given you my time, followed at your heels like a tame
+dog. And for what? You will not marry me, you will not commit yourself
+to anything. You are a past mistress in the art of binding fools to your
+chariot wheels. You know that I love you--that there breathes on this
+earth no other woman for me but you. I have told you this in all save
+words a hundred times. And now--now it is my turn. I have been played
+with long enough. You are here unbidden--unexpected. You can consider
+that door locked. Now tell me why you came."
+
+Lucille had recovered herself. She stood before him, white but calm.
+
+"Because," she said, "I am a woman."
+
+"That means that you came without reason--on impulse?" he asked.
+
+"I came," she said, "because I heard that you were about to take a step
+which must separate us for ever."
+
+"And that," he asked, "disturbed you?"
+
+"Yes!"
+
+"Come, we are drawing nearer together," he said, a kindling light in
+his eyes. "Now answer me this. How much do you care if this eternal
+separation does come? Here am I on the threshold of action. Unless I
+change my mind within ten minutes I must throw in my lot with those whom
+you and your Order loathe and despise. There can be no half measures.
+I must be their leader, or I must vanish from the face of the
+political world. This I will do if you bid me. But the price must be
+yourself--wholly, without reservation--yourself, body and soul."
+
+"You care--as much as that?" she murmured.
+
+"Ask me no questions, answer mine!" he cried fiercely. "You shall stay
+with me here--or in five minutes I leave on my campaign."
+
+She laughed musically.
+
+"This is positively delicious," she exclaimed. "I am being made love to
+in medieval fashion. Other times other manners, sir! Will you listen to
+reason?"
+
+"I will listen to nothing--save your answer, yes or no," he declared,
+drawing on his overcoat.
+
+She laid her hand upon his shoulder.
+
+"Reginald," she said, "you are like the whirlwind--and how can I answer
+you in five minutes!"
+
+"You can answer me in one," he declared fiercely. "Will you pay my price
+if I do your bidding? Yes or no! The price is yourself. Now! Yes or no?"
+
+She drew on her own cloak and fastened the clasp with shaking fingers.
+Then she turned towards the door.
+
+"I wish you good-bye and good fortune, Reginald," she said. "I daresay
+we may not meet again. It will be better that we do not."
+
+"This then is your answer?" he cried.
+
+She looked around at him. Was it his fancy, or were those tears in her
+eyes? Or was she really so wonderful an actress?
+
+"Do you think," she said, "that if I had not cared I should have come
+here?"
+
+"Tell me that in plain words," he cried. "It is all I ask."
+
+The door was suddenly opened. Grahame stood upon the threshold. He
+looked beyond Lucille to Brott.
+
+"You must really forgive me," he said, "but there is barely time to
+catch the train, Brott. I have a hansom waiting, and your luggage is
+on."
+
+Brott answered nothing. Lucille held out her hands to him.
+
+"Yes or no?" he asked her in a low hoarse tone.
+
+"You must--give me time! I don't want to lose you. I--"
+
+He caught up his coat.
+
+"Coming, Grahame," he said firmly. "Countess, I must beg your pardon
+ten thousand times for this abrupt departure. My servants will call your
+carriage."
+
+She leaned towards him, beautiful, anxious, alluring.
+
+"Reginald!"
+
+"Yes or no," he whispered in her ear.
+
+"Give me until to-morrow," she faltered.
+
+"Not one moment," he answered. "Yes--now, this instant--or I go!"
+
+"Brott! My dear man, we have not a second to lose."
+
+"You hear!" he muttered. "Yes or no?"
+
+She trembled.
+
+"Give me until to-morrow," she begged. "It is for your own sake. For
+your own safety."
+
+He turned on his heel! His muttered speech was profane, but
+inarticulate. He sprang into the hansom by Grahame's side.
+
+"Euston!" the latter cried through the trap-door. "Double fare, cabby.
+We must catch the Scotchman."
+
+Lucille came out a few moments later, and looked up and down the street
+as her brougham drove smartly up. The hansom was fast disappearing in
+the distance. She looked after it and sighed.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI
+
+Lucille gave a little start of amazement as she realised that she was
+not alone in the brougham. She reached out for the check-cord, but a
+strong hand held hers.
+
+"My dear Lucille," a familiar voice exclaimed, "why this alarm? Is it
+your nerves or your eyesight which is failing you?"
+
+Her hand dropped. She turned towards him.
+
+"It is you, then, Prince!" she said. "But why are you here? I do not
+understand."
+
+The Prince shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"It is so simple," he said. "We are all very anxious indeed to hear the
+result of your interview with Brott--and apart from that, I personally
+have too few opportunities to act as your escort to let a chance go by.
+I trust that my presence is not displeasing to you?"
+
+She laughed a little uneasily.
+
+"It is at any rate unnecessary," she answered. "But since you are here I
+may as well make my confession. I have failed."
+
+"It is incredible," the Prince murmured.
+
+"As you will--but it is true," she answered. "I have done my very best,
+or rather my worst, and the result has been failure. Mr. Brott has a
+great friend--a man named Grahame, whose influence prevailed against
+mine. He has gone to Scotland."
+
+"That is serious news," the Prince said quietly.
+
+Lucille leaned back amongst the cushions.
+
+"After all," she declared, "we are all out of place in this country.
+There is no scope whatever for such schemes and intrigues as you and all
+the rest of them delight in. In France and Russia, even in Austria,
+it is different. The working of all great organisation there is
+underground--it is easy enough to meet plot by counterplot, to suborn,
+to deceive, to undermine. But here all the great games of life seem to
+be played with the cards upon the table. We are hopelessly out of place.
+I cannot think, Prince, what ill chance led you to ever contemplate
+making your headquarters in London."
+
+The Prince stroked his long moustache.
+
+"That is all very well, Lucille," he said, "but you must remember that
+in England we have very large subscriptions to the Order. These people
+will not go on paying for nothing. There was a meeting of the London
+branch a few months ago, and it was decided that unless some practical
+work was done in this country all English subscriptions should cease. We
+had no alternative but to come over and attempt something. Brott is of
+course the bete noire of our friends here. He is distinctly the man to
+be struck at."
+
+"And what evil stroke of fortune," Lucille asked, "induced you to send
+for me?"
+
+"That is a very cruel speech, dear lady," the Prince murmured.
+
+"I hope," Lucille said, "that you have never for a moment imagined that
+I find any pleasure in what I am called upon to do."
+
+"Why not? It must be interesting. You can have had no sympathy with
+Brott--a hopeless plebeian, a very paragon of Anglo-Saxon stupidity?"
+
+Lucille laughed scornfully.
+
+"Reginald Brott is a man, at any rate, and an honest one," she answered.
+"But I am too selfish to think much of him. It is myself whom I pity. I
+have a home, Prince, and a husband. I want them both."
+
+"You amaze me," the Prince said slowly. "Lucille, indeed, you amaze me.
+You have been buried alive for three years. Positively we believed that
+our summons would sound to you like a message from Heaven."
+
+Lucille was silent for a moment. She rubbed the mist from the carriage
+window and looked out into the streets.
+
+"Well," she said, "I hope that you realise now how completely you
+have misunderstood me. I was perfectly happy in America. I have been
+perfectly miserable here. I suppose that I have grown too old for
+intrigues and adventures."
+
+"Too old, Lucille," the Prince murmured, leaning a little towards her.
+"Lucille, you are the most beautiful woman in London. Many others may
+have told you so, but there is no one, Lucille, who is so devotedly, so
+hopelessly your slave as I."
+
+She drew her hand away, and sat back in her corner. The man's hot
+breath fell upon her cheek, his eyes seemed almost phosphorescent in the
+darkness. Lucille could scarcely keep the biting words from her tongue.
+
+"You do not answer me, Lucille. You do not speak even a single kind
+word to me. Come! Surely we are old friends. We should understand one
+another. It is not a great deal that I ask from your kindness--not a
+great deal to you, but it is all the difference between happiness and
+misery for me."
+
+"This is a very worn-out game, Prince," Lucille said coldly. "You have
+been making love to women in very much the same manner for twenty years,
+and I--well, to be frank, I am utterly weary of being made love to
+like a doll. Laugh at me as you will, my husband is the only man who
+interests me in the slightest. My failure to-day is almost welcome to
+me. It has at least brought my work here to a close. Come, Prince, if
+you want to earn my eternal gratitude, tell me now that I am a free
+woman."
+
+"You give me credit," the Prince said slowly, "for great generosity. If
+I let you go it seems to me that I shall lose you altogether. You will
+go to your husband. He will take you away!"
+
+"Why not?" Lucille asked. "I want to go. I am tired of London. You
+cannot lose what you never possessed--what you never had the slightest
+chance of possessing."
+
+The Prince laughed softly--not a pleasant laugh, not even a mirthful
+one.
+
+"Dear lady," he said, "you speak not wisely. For I am very much in
+earnest when I say that I love you, and until you are kinder to me I
+shall not let you go."
+
+"That is rather a dangerous threat, is it not?" Lucille asked. "You dare
+to tell me openly that you will abuse your position, that you will
+keep me bound a servant to the cause, because of this foolish fancy of
+yours?"
+
+The Prince smiled at her through the gloom--a white, set smile.
+
+"It is no foolish fancy, Lucille. You will find that out before long.
+You have been cold to me all your life. Yet you would find me a better
+friend than enemy."
+
+"If I am to choose," she said steadily, "I shall choose the latter."
+
+"As you will," he answered. "In time you will change your mind."
+
+The carriage had stopped. The Prince alighted and held out his hand.
+Lucille half rose, and then with her foot upon the step she paused and
+looked around.
+
+"Where are we?" she exclaimed. "This is not Dorset House."
+
+"No, we are in Grosvenor Square," the Prince answered. "I forgot to tell
+you that we have a meeting arranged for here this evening. Permit me."
+But Lucille resumed her seat in the carriage.
+
+"It is your house, is it not?" she asked.
+
+"Yes. My house assuredly."
+
+"Very well," Lucille said. "I will come in when the Duchess of Dorset
+shows herself at the window or the front door--or Felix, or even De
+Brouillae."
+
+The Prince still held open the carriage door.
+
+"They will all be here," he assured her. "We are a few minutes early."
+
+"Then I will drive round to Dorset House and fetch the Duchess. It is
+only a few yards."
+
+The Prince hesitated. His cheeks were very white, and something like a
+scowl was blackening his heavy, insipid face.
+
+"Lucille," he said, "you are very foolish. It is not much I ask of you,
+but that little I will have or I pledge my word to it that things shall
+go ill with you and your husband. There is plain speech for you. Do not
+be absurd. Come within, and let us talk. What do you fear? The house is
+full of servants, and the carriage can wait for you here."
+
+Lucille smiled at him--a maddening smile.
+
+"I am not a child," she said, "and such conversations as I am forced to
+hold with you will not be under your own roof. Be so good as to tell the
+coachman to drive to Dorset House."
+
+The Prince turned on his heel with a furious oath.
+
+"He can drive you to Hell," he answered thickly.
+
+Lucille found the Duchess and Lady Carey together at Dorset House. She
+looked from one to the other.
+
+"I thought that there was a meeting to-night," she remarked.
+
+The Duchess shook her head.
+
+"Not to-night," she answered. "It would not be possible. General
+Dolinski is dining at Marlborough House, and De Broullae is in Paris.
+Now tell us all about Mr. Brott."
+
+"He has gone to Scotland," Lucille answered. "I have failed."
+
+Lady Carey looked up from the depths of the chair in which she was
+lounging.
+
+"And the prince?" she asked. "He went to meet you!"
+
+"He also failed," Lucille answered.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII
+
+Mr. SABIN drew a little breath, partly of satisfaction because he
+had discovered the place he sought, and partly of disgust at the
+neighbourhood in which he found himself. Nevertheless, he descended
+three steps from the court into which he had been directed, and pushed
+open the swing door, behind which Emil Sachs announced his desire
+to supply the world with dinners at eightpence and vin ordinaire at
+fourpence the small bottle.
+
+A stout black-eyed woman looked up at his entrance from behind the
+counter. The place was empty.
+
+"What does monsieur require she asked, peering forward through the gloom
+with some suspicion. For the eightpenny dinners were the scorn of the
+neighbourhood, and strangers were rare in the wine shop of Emil Sachs."
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled.
+
+"One of your excellent omelettes, my good Annette," he answered, "if
+your hand has not lost its cunning!"
+
+She gave a little cry.
+
+"It is monsieur!" she exclaimed. "After all these years it is monsieur!
+Ah, you will pardon that I did not recognise you. This place is a
+cellar. Monsieur has not changed. In the daylight one would know him
+anywhere."
+
+The woman talked fast, but even in that dim light Mr. Sabin knew quite
+well that she was shaking with fear. He could see the corners of her
+mouth twitch. Her black eyes rolled incessantly, but refused to meet
+his. Mr. Sabin frowned.
+
+"You are not glad to see me, Annette!"
+
+She leaned over the counter.
+
+"For monsieur's own sake," she whispered, "go!"
+
+Mr. Sabin stood quite still for a short space of time.
+
+"Can I rest in there for a few minutes?" he asked, pointing to the door
+which led into the room beyond.
+
+The woman hesitated. She looked up at the clock and down again.
+
+"Emil will return," she said, "at three. Monsieur were best out of the
+neighbourhood before then. For ten minutes it might be safe."
+
+Mr. Sabin passed forward. The woman lifted the flap of the counter
+and followed him. Within was a smaller room, far cleaner and better
+appointed than the general appearance of the place promised. Mr. Sabin
+seated himself at one of the small tables. The linen cloth, he noticed,
+was spotless, the cutlery and appointments polished and clean.
+
+"This, I presume," he remarked, "is not where you serve the eightpenny
+table d'hote?"
+
+The woman shrugged her shoulders.
+
+"But it would not be possible," she answered. "We have no customers for
+that. If one arrives we put together a few scraps. But one must make a
+pretense. Monsieur understands?"
+
+Mr. Sabin nodded.
+
+"I will take," he said, "a small glass of fin champagne."
+
+She vanished, and reappeared almost immediately with the brandy in a
+quaintly cut liqueur glass. A glance at the clock as she passed seemed
+to have increased her anxiety.
+
+"If monsieur will drink his liqueur and depart," she prayed. "Indeed, it
+will be for the best."
+
+Mr. Sabin set down his glass. His steadfast gaze seemed to reduce
+Annette into a state of nervous panic.
+
+"Annette," he said, "they have placed me upon the list."
+
+"It is true, monsieur," she answered. "Why do you come here?"
+
+"I wanted to know first for certain that they had ventured so far," Mr.
+Sabin said. "I believe that I am only the second person in this country
+who has been so much honoured."
+
+The woman drew nearer to him.
+
+"Monsieur," she said, "your only danger is to venture into such parts
+as these. London is so safe, and the law is merciless. They only watch.
+They will attempt nothing. Do not leave England. There is here no
+machinery of criminals. Besides, the life of monsieur is insured."
+
+"Insured?" Mr. Sabin remarked quietly. "That is good news. And who pays
+the premium?"
+
+"A great lady, monsieur! I know no more. Monsieur must go indeed. He has
+found his way into the only place in London where he is not safe."
+
+Mr. Sabin rose.
+
+"You are expecting, perhaps," he said, "one of my friends from the--"
+
+She interrupted him.
+
+"It is true," she declared. "He may be here at any instant. The time is
+already up. Oh, monsieur, indeed, indeed it would not do for him to find
+you."
+
+Mr. Sabin moved towards the door.
+
+"You are perhaps right," he said regretfully, "although I should much
+like to hear about this little matter of life insurance while I am
+here."
+
+"Indeed, monsieur," Annette declared, "I know nothing. There is nothing
+which I can tell monsieur."
+
+Mr. Sabin suddenly leaned forward. His gaze was compelling. His tone was
+low but terrible.
+
+"Annette," he said, "obey me. Send Emil here."
+
+The woman trembled, but she did not move. Mr. Sabin lifted his
+forefinger and pointed slowly to the door. The woman's lips parted, but
+she seemed to have lost the power of speech.
+
+"Send Emil here!" Mr. Sabin repeated slowly.
+
+Annette turned and left the room, groping her way to the door as though
+her eyesight had become uncertain. Mr. Sabin lit a cigarette and looked
+for a moment carefully into the small liqueur glass out of which he had
+drunk.
+
+"That was unwise," he said softly to himself. "Just such a blunder might
+have cost me everything."
+
+He held it up to the light and satisfied himself that no dregs remained.
+Then he took from his pocket a tiny little revolver, and placing it
+on the table before him, covered it with his handkerchief. Almost
+immediately a door at the farther end of the room opened and closed.
+A man in dark clothes, small, unnaturally pale, with deep-set eyes and
+nervous, twitching mouth, stood before him. Mr. Sabin smiled a welcome
+at him.
+
+"Good-morning, Emil Sachs," he said. "I am glad that you have shown
+discretion. Stand there in the light, please, and fold your arms.
+Thanks. Do not think that I am afraid of you, but I like to talk
+comfortably."
+
+"I am at monsieur's service," the man said in a low tone.
+
+"Exactly. Now, Emil, before starting to visit you I left a little note
+behind addressed to the chief of the police here--no, you need not
+start--to be sent to him only if my return were unduly delayed. You can
+guess what that note contained. It is not necessary for us to revert
+to--unpleasant subjects."
+
+The man moistened his dry lips.
+
+"It is not necessary," he repeated. "Monsieur is as safe here--from
+me--as at his own hotel."
+
+"Excellent!" Mr. Sabin said. "Now listen, Emil. It has pleased me
+chiefly, as you know, for the sake of your wife, the good Annette, to be
+very merciful to you as regards the past. But I do not propose to allow
+you to run a poison bureau for the advantage of the Prince of Saxe
+Leinitzer and his friends--more especially, perhaps, as I am at present
+upon his list of superfluous persons."
+
+The man trembled.
+
+"Monsieur," he said, "the Prince knows as much as you know, and he has
+not the mercy that one shows to a dog."
+
+"You will find," Mr. Sabin said, "that if you do not obey me, I myself
+can develop a similar disposition. Now answer me this! You have within
+the last few days supplied several people with that marvelous powder for
+the preparation of which you are so justly famed."
+
+"Several--no, monsieur! Two only."
+
+"Their names?"
+
+The man trembled.
+
+"If they should know!"
+
+"They will not, Emil. I will see to that."
+
+"The first I supplied to the order of the Prince."
+
+"Good! And the second?"
+
+"To a lady whose name I do not know."
+
+Mr. Sabin raised his eyebrows.
+
+"Is not that," he remarked, "a little irregular?"
+
+"The lady wrote her request before me in the yellow crayon. It was
+sufficient."
+
+"And you do not know her name, Emil?"
+
+"No, monsieur. She was dark and tall, and closely veiled. She was here
+but a few minutes since."
+
+"Dark and tall!" Mr. Sabin repeated to himself thoughtfully. "Emil, you
+are telling me the truth?"
+
+"I do not dare to tell you anything else, monsieur," the man answered.
+
+Mr. Sabin did not continue his interrogations for a few moments.
+Suddenly he looked up.
+
+"Has that lady left the place yet, Emil?"
+
+"No, monsieur!"
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled.
+
+"Have you a back exit?" he asked.
+
+"None that the lady would know of," Emil answered. "She must pass along
+the passage which borders this apartment, and enter the bar by a door
+from behind. If monsieur desires it, it is impossible for her to leave
+unobserved."
+
+"That is excellent, Emil," Mr. Sabin said. "Now there is one more
+question--quite a harmless one. Annette spoke of my life being in some
+way insured."
+
+"It is true, monsieur," Emil admitted. "A lady who also possessed
+the yellow crayon came here the day that--that monsieur incurred the
+displeasure of--of his friends. She tried to bribe me to blow up my
+laboratory and leave the country, or that I should substitute a harmless
+powder for any required by the Prince. I was obliged to refuse."
+
+"And then?"
+
+"Then she promised me a large sum if you were alive in six months, and
+made me at once a payment.
+
+"Dear me," Mr. Sabin said, "this is quite extraordinary."
+
+"I can tell monsieur the lady's name," Emil continued, "for she raised
+her veil, and everywhere the illustrated papers have been full of her
+picture. It was the lady who was besieged in a little town of South
+Africa, and who carried despatches for the general, disguised as a man."
+
+"Lady Carey!" Mr. Sabin remarked quietly.
+
+"That was the lady's name," Emil agreed.
+
+Mr. Sabin was thoughtful for a few moments. Then he looked up.
+
+"Emil Sachs," he said sternly, "you have given out at least one portion
+of your abominable concoction which is meant to end my days. Whether I
+shall escape it or not remains to be seen. I am forced at the best to
+discharge my servant, and to live the life of a hunted man. Now you have
+done enough mischief in the world. To-morrow morning a messenger will
+place in your hands two hundred pounds. A larger sum will await you at
+Baring's Bank in New York. You will go there and buy a small restaurant
+in the business quarter. This is your last chance, Emil. I give it to
+you for the sake of Annette."
+
+"And I accept it, monsieur, with gratitude."
+
+"For the present--"
+
+Mr. Sabin stopped short. His quick ears had caught the swish of woman's
+gown passing along the passage outside. Emil too had heard it.
+
+"It is the dark lady," he whispered, "who purchased from me the other
+powder. See, I open gently this door. Monsieur must both see and hear."
+
+The door at the end of the passage was opened. A woman stepped out into
+the little bar and made her way towards the door. Here she was met by
+a man entering. Mr. Sabin held up his forefinger to stop the terrified
+exclamation which trembled on Emil's lips. The woman was Lucille, the
+man the Prince. It was Lucille who was speaking.
+
+"You have followed me, Prince. It is intolerable."
+
+"Dear Lucille, it is for your own sake. These are not fit parts for you
+to visit alone."
+
+"It is my own business," she answered coldly.
+
+The Prince appeared to be in a complaisant mood.
+
+"Come," he said, "the affair is not worth a quarrel. I ask you no
+questions. Only since we are here I propose that we test the cooking of
+the good Annette. We will lunch together."
+
+"What, here?" she answered. "Absurd."
+
+"By no means," he answered. "As you doubtless know, the exterior of the
+place is entirely misleading. These people are old servants of mine. I
+can answer for the luncheon."
+
+"You can also eat it," came the prompt reply. "I am returning to the
+carriage."
+
+"But--"
+
+Mr. Sabin emerged through the swing door. "Your discretion, my dear
+Lucille," he said, smiling, "is excellent. The place is indeed better
+than it seems, and Annette's cookery may be all that the Prince
+claims. Yet I think I know better places for a luncheon party, and the
+ventilation is not of the best. May I suggest that you come with me
+instead to the Milan?"
+
+"Victor! You here?"
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled as he admitted the obvious fact. The Prince's face was
+as black as night.
+
+"Believe me," Mr. Sabin said, turning to the Prince, "I sympathise
+entirely with your feelings at the present moment. I myself have
+suffered in precisely the same manner. The fact is, intrigue in this
+country is almost an impossibility. At Paris, Vienna, Pesth, how
+different! You raise your little finger, and the deed is done.
+Superfluous people--like myself--are removed like the hairs from your
+chin. But here intrigue seems indeed to exist only within the pages of a
+shilling novel, or in a comic opera. The gentleman with a helmet there,
+who regards us so benignly, will presently earn a shilling by calling me
+a hansom. Yet in effect he does me a far greater service. He stands
+for a multitude of cold Anglo-Saxon laws, adamant, incorruptible,
+inflexible--as certain as the laws of Nature herself. I am quite aware
+that by this time I ought to be lying in a dark cellar with a gag in my
+mouth, or perhaps in the river with a dagger in my chest. But here in
+England, no!"
+
+The Prince smiled--to all appearance a very genial smile.
+
+"You are right, my dear friend," he said, "yet what you say possesses,
+shall we call it, a somewhat antediluvian flavour. Intrigue is no longer
+a clumsy game of knife and string and bowl. It becomes to-day a game of
+finesse. I can assure you that I have no desire to give a stage whistle
+and have you throttled at my feet. On the contrary, I beg you to use my
+carriage, which you will find in the street. You will lunch at the Milan
+with Lucille, and I shall retire discomfited to eat alone at my club.
+But the game is a long one, my dear friend. The new methods take time."
+
+"This conversation," Mr. Sabin said to Lucille, "is interesting, but
+it is a little ungallant. I think that we will resume it at some future
+occasion. Shall we accept the Prince's offer, or shall we be truly
+democratic and take a hansom."
+
+Lucille passed her arm through his and laughed.
+
+"You are robbing the Prince of me," she declared. "Let us leave him his
+carriage."
+
+She nodded her farewells to Saxe Leinitzer, who took leave of them with
+a low bow. As they waited at the corner for a hansom Mr. Sabin glanced
+back. The Prince had disappeared through the swing doors.
+
+"I want you to promise me one thing," Lucille said earnestly.
+
+"It is promised," Mr. Sabin answered.
+
+"You will not ask me the reason of my visit to this place?"
+
+"I have no curiosity," Mr. Sabin answered. "Come!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII
+
+Mr. Sabin, contrary to his usual custom, engaged a private room at the
+Milan. Lucille was in the highest spirits.
+
+"If only this were a game instead of reality!" she said, flashing
+a brilliant smile at him across the table, "I should find it most
+fascinating. You seem to come to me always when I want you most. And
+do you know, it is perfectly charming to be carried off by you in this
+manner."
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled at her, and there was a look in his eyes which shone
+there for no other woman.
+
+"It is in effect," he said, "keeping me young. Events seem to have
+enclosed us in a curious little cobweb. All the time we are struggling
+between the rankest primitivism and the most delicate intrigue. To-day
+is the triumph of primitivism."
+
+"Meaning that you, the medieval knight, have carried me off, the
+distressed maiden, on your shoulder."
+
+"Having confounded my enemy," he continued, smiling, "by an embarrassing
+situation, a little argument, and the distant view of a policeman's
+helmet."
+
+"This," she remarked, with a little satisfied sigh as she selected an
+ortolan, "is a very satisfactory place to be carried off to. And you,"
+she added, leaning across the table and touching his fingers for a
+moment tenderly, "are a very delightful knight-errant."
+
+He raised the fingers to his lips--the waiter had left the room. She
+blushed, but yielded her hand readily enough.
+
+"Victor," she murmured, "you would spoil the most faithless woman on
+earth for all her lovers. You make me very impatient."
+
+"Impatience, then," he declared, "must be the most infectious of fevers.
+For I too am a terrible sufferer."
+
+"If only the Prince," she said, "would be reasonable."
+
+"I am afraid," Mr. Sabin answered, "that from him we have not much to
+hope for."
+
+"Yet," she continued, "I have fulfilled all the conditions. Reginald
+Brott remains the enemy of our cause and Order. Yet some say that his
+influence upon the people is lessened. In any case, my work is over.
+He began to mistrust me long ago. To-day I believe that mistrust is the
+only feeling he has in connection with me. I shall demand my release."
+
+"I am afraid," Mr. Sabin said, "that Saxe Leinitzer has other reasons
+for keeping you at Dorset House."
+
+She shrugged her shoulders.
+
+"He has been very persistent even before I left Vienna. But he must know
+that it is hopeless. I have never encouraged him."
+
+"I am sure of it," Mr. Sabin said. "It is the incorrigible vanity of
+the man which will not be denied. He has been taught to believe himself
+irresistible. I have never doubted you for a single moment, Lucille. I
+could not. But you have been the slave of these people long enough.
+As you say, your task is over. Its failure was always certain. Brott
+believes in his destiny, and it will be no slight thing which will keep
+him from following it. They must give you back to me."
+
+"We will go back to America," she said. "I have never been so happy as
+at Lenox."
+
+"Nor I," Mr. Sahin said softly.
+
+"Besides," she continued, "the times have changed since I joined the
+Society. In Hungary you know how things were. The Socialists were
+carrying all before them, a united solid body. The aristocracy were
+forced to enter into some sort of combination against them. We saved
+Austria, I am not sure that we did not save Russia. But England is
+different. The aristocracy here are a strong resident class. They have
+their House of Lords, they own the land, and will own it for many years
+to come, their position is unassailable. It is the worst country in
+Europe for us to work in. The very climate and the dispositions of the
+people are inimical to intrigue. It is Muriel Carey who brought the
+Society here. It was a mistake. The country is in no need of it. There
+is no scope for it."
+
+"If only one could get beyond Saxe Leinitzer," Mr. Sabin said.
+
+She shook her head.
+
+"Behind him," she said, "there is only the one to whom all reference is
+forbidden. And there is no man in the world who would be less likely to
+listen to an appeal from you--or from me."
+
+"After all," Mr. Sabin said, "though Saxe Leinitzer is our enemy, I
+am not sure that he can do us any harm. If he declines to release
+you--well, when the twelve months are up you are free whether he wishes
+it or not. He has put me outside the pale. But this is not, or never
+was, a vindictive Society. They do not deal in assassinations. In this
+country at least anything of the sort is rarely attempted. If I were
+a young man with my life to live in the capitals of Europe I should be
+more or less a social outcast, I suppose. But I am proof against that
+sort of thing."
+
+Lucille looked a little doubtful.
+
+"The Prince," she said, "is an intriguer of the old school. I know that
+in Vienna he has more than once made use of more violent means than he
+would dare to do here. And there is an underneath machinery very seldom
+used, I believe, and of which none of us who are ordinary members know
+anything at all, which gives him terrible powers."
+
+Mr. Sabin nodded grimly.
+
+"It was worked against me in America," he said, "but I got the best of
+it. Here in England I do not believe that he would dare to use it. If
+so, I think that before now it would have been aimed at Brott. I have
+just read his Glasgow speech. If he becomes Premier it will lead to
+something like a revolution."
+
+She sighed.
+
+"Brott is a clever man, and a strong man," she said. "I am sorry for
+him, but I do not believe that he will never become Prime Minister of
+England."
+
+Mr. Sabin sipped his wine thoughtfully.
+
+"I believe," he said, "that intrigue is the resource of those who have
+lived their lives so quickly that they have found weariness. For these
+things to-day interest me very little. I am only anxious to have you
+back again, Lucille, to find ourselves on our way to our old home."
+
+She laughed softly.
+
+"And I used to think," she said, "that after all I could only keep you a
+little time--that presently the voices from the outside world would come
+whispering in your ears, and you would steal back again to where the
+wheels of life were turning."
+
+"A man," he answered, "is not easily whispered out of Paradise."
+
+She laughed at him.
+
+"Ah, it is so easy," she said, "to know that your youth was spent at a
+court."
+
+"There is only one court," he answered, "where men learn to speak the
+truth."
+
+She leaned back in her chair.
+
+"Oh, you are incorrigible," she said softly. "The one role in life in
+which I fancied you ill at ease you seem to fill to perfection."
+
+"And that?"
+
+"You are an adorable husband!"
+
+"I should like," he said, "a better opportunity to prove it!"
+
+"Let us hope," she murmured, "that our separation is nearly over. I
+shall appeal to the Prince to-night. My remaining at Dorset House is no
+longer necessary."
+
+"I shall come," he said, "and demand you in person."
+
+She shook her head.
+
+"No! They would not let you in, and it would make it more difficult. Be
+patient a little longer."
+
+He came and sat by her side. She leaned over to meet his embrace.
+
+"You make patience," he murmured, "a torture!"
+
+      *           *           *           *           *
+
+Mr. Sabin walked home to his rooms late in the afternoon, well content
+on the whole with his day. He was in no manner prepared for the shock
+which greeted him on entering his sitting-room. Duson was leaning back
+in his most comfortable easy-chair.
+
+"Duson!" Mr. Sabin said sharply. "What does this mean?"
+
+There was no answer. Mr. Sabin moved quickly forward, and then stopped
+short. He had seen dead men, and he knew the signs. Duson was stone
+dead.
+
+Mr. Sabin's nerve answered to this demand upon it. He checked his first
+impulse to ring the bell, and looked carefully on the table for some
+note or message from the dead man. He found it almost at once--a large
+envelope in Duson's handwriting. Mr. Sabin hastily broke the seal and
+read:
+
+  "Monsieur,--I kill myself because it is easiest and best.  The
+  poison was given me for you, but I have not the courage to become
+  a murderer, or afterwards to conceal my guilt.  Monsieur has been
+  a good master to me, and also Madame la Comtesse was always
+  indulgent and kind.  The mistake of my life has been the joining
+  the lower order of the Society.  The money which I have received
+  has been but a poor return for the anxiety and trouble which have
+  come upon me since Madame la Comtesse left America.  Now that I
+  seek shelter in the grave I am free to warn Monsieur that the
+  Prince of S. L. is his determined and merciless enemy, and that
+  he has already made an unlawful use of his position in the Society
+  for the sake of private vengeance.  If monsieur would make a
+  powerful friend he should seek the Lady Muriel Carey.
+
+  "Monsieur will be so good as to destroy this when read.  My will
+  is in my trunk.
+                                 "Your Grace's faithful servant,
+                                         "Jules Duson."
+
+Mr. Sabin read this letter carefully through to the end. Then he put it
+into his pocket-book and quickly rang the bell.
+
+"You had better send for a doctor at once," he said to the waiter who
+appeared. "My servant appears to have suffered from some sudden illness.
+I am afraid that he is quite dead."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX
+
+"You spoke, my dear Lucille," the Duchess of Dorset said, "of your
+departure. Is not that a little premature?"
+
+Lucille shrugged her beautiful shoulders, and leaned back in her
+corner of the couch with half-closed eyes. The Duchess, who was very
+Anglo-Saxon, was an easy person to read, and Lucille was anxious to know
+her fate.
+
+"Why premature?" she asked. "I was sent for to use my influence with
+Reginald Brott. Well, I did my best, and I believe that for days it
+was just a chance whether I did not succeed. However, as it happened,
+I failed. One of his friends came and pulled him away just as he was
+wavering. He has declared himself now once and for all. After his speech
+at Glasgow he cannot draw back. I was brought all the way from America,
+and I want to go back to my husband."
+
+The Duchess pursed her lips.
+
+"When one has the honour, my dear," she said, "of belonging to so
+wonderful an organisation as this we must not consider too closely the
+selfish claims of family. I am sure that years ago I should have laughed
+at any one who had told me that I, Georgina Croxton, should ever belong
+to such a thing as a secret society, even though it had some connection
+with so harmless and excellent an organisation as the Primrose League."
+
+"It does seem remarkable," Lucille murmured.
+
+"But look what terrible times have come upon us," the Duchess continued,
+without heeding the interruption. "When I was a girl a Radical was a
+person absolutely without consideration. Now all our great cities are
+hot-beds of Socialism and--and anarchism. The whole country seems banded
+together against the aristocracy and the landowners. Combination amongst
+us became absolutely necessary in some shape or form. When the Prince
+came and began to drop hints about the way the spread of Socialism had
+been checked in Hungary and Austria, and even Germany, I was interested
+from the first. And when he went further, and spoke of the Society, it
+was I who persuaded Dorset to join. Dear man, he is very earnest, but
+very slow, and very averse to anything at all secretive. I am sure the
+reflection that he is a member of a secret society, even although it
+is simply a linking together of the aristocracy of Europe in their own
+defence, has kept him awake for many a night."
+
+Lucille was a little bored.
+
+"The Society," she said, "is an admirable one enough, but just now I am
+beginning to feel it a little exacting. I think that the Prince expects
+a good deal of one. I shall certainly ask for my release to-night."
+
+The Duchess looked doubtful.
+
+"Release!" she repeated. "Come, is that not rather an exaggerated
+expression? I trust that your stay at Dorset House has not in any way
+suggested an imprisonment."
+
+"On the contrary," Lucille answered; "you and the Duke have been most
+kind. But you must remember that I have home of my own--and a husband of
+my own."
+
+"I have no doubt," the Duchess said, "that you will be able to return
+to them some day. But you must not be impatient. I do not think that the
+Prince has given up all hopes of Reginald Brott yet."
+
+Lucille was silent. So her emancipation was to be postponed. After all,
+it was what she had feared. She sat watching idly the Duchess's knitting
+needles. Lady Carey came sweeping in, wonderful in a black velvet gown
+and a display of jewels almost barbaric.
+
+"On my way to the opera," she announced. "The Maddersons sent me their
+box. Will any of you good people come? What do you say, Lucille?"
+
+Lucille shook her head.
+
+"My toilette is deficient," she said; "and besides, I am staying at home
+to see the Prince. We expect him this evening."
+
+"You'll probably be disappointed then," Lady Carey remarked, "for he's
+going to join us at the opera. Run and change your gown. I'll wait."
+
+"Are you sure that the Prince will be there?" Lucille asked.
+
+"Certain."
+
+"Then I will come," she said, "if the Duchess will excuse me."
+
+The Duchess and Lady Carey were left alone for a few minutes. The former
+put down her knitting.
+
+"Why do we keep that woman here," she asked, "now that Brott has broken
+away from her altogether?"
+
+Lady Carey laughed meaningly.
+
+"Better ask the Prince," she remarked.
+
+The Duchess frowned.
+
+"My dear Muriel," she said, "I think that you are wrong to make such
+insinuations. I am sure that the Prince is too much devoted to our cause
+to allow any personal considerations to intervene."
+
+Lady Carey yawned.
+
+"Rats!" she exclaimed.
+
+The Duchess took up her knitting, and went on with it without remark.
+Lady Carey burst out laughing.
+
+"Don't look so shocked," she exclaimed. "It's funny. I can't help being
+a bit slangy. You do take everything so seriously. Of course you can see
+that the Prince is waiting to make a fool of himself over Lucille. He
+has been trying more or less all his life."
+
+"He may admire her," the Duchess said. "I am sure that he would not
+allow that to influence him in his present position. By the bye, she is
+anxious to leave us now that the Brott affair is over. Do you think that
+the Prince will agree?"
+
+Lady Carey's face hardened.
+
+"I am sure that he will not," she said coolly. "There are reasons why
+she may not at present be allowed to rejoin her husband."
+
+The Duchess used her needles briskly.
+
+"For my part," she said, "I can see no object in keeping her here any
+longer. Mr. Brott has shown himself quite capable of keeping her at
+arm's length. I cannot see what further use she is."
+
+Lady Carey heard the flutter of skirts outside and rose.
+
+"There are wheels within wheels," she remarked. "My dear Lucille, what
+a charming toilette. We shall have the lady journalists besieging us
+in our box. Paquin, of course. Good-night, Duchess. Glad to see you're
+getting on with the socks, or stockings, do you call them?"
+
+Insolent aristocratic, now and then attractive in some strange
+suggestive way, Lady Carey sat in front of the box and exchanged
+greetings with her friends. Presently the Prince came in and took the
+chair between the two women. Lady Carey greeted him with a nod.
+
+"Here's Lucille dying to return to her lawful husband," she remarked.
+"Odd thing, isn't it? Most of the married women I ever knew are dying
+to get away from theirs. You can make her happy or miserable in a few
+moments."
+
+The Prince leaned over between them, but he looked only at Lucille.
+
+"I wish that I could," he murmured. "I wish that that were within my
+power."
+
+"It is," she answered coolly. "Muriel is quite right. I am most anxious
+to return to my husband."
+
+The Prince said nothing. Lady Carey, glancing towards him at that
+moment, was surprised at certain signs of disquietude in his face which
+startled her.
+
+"What is the matter with you?" she asked almost roughly.
+
+"Matter with me? Nothing," he answered. "Why this unaccustomed
+solicitude?"
+
+Lady Carey looked into his face fiercely. He was pale, and there was
+a strained look about his eyes. He seemed, too, to be listening. From
+outside in the street came faintly to their ears the cry of a newsboy.
+
+"Get me an evening paper," she whispered in his ear.
+
+He got up and left the box. Lucille was watching the people below and
+had not appreciated the significance of what had been passing between
+the two. Lady Carey leaned back in the box with half-closed eyes. Her
+fingers were clenched nervously together, her bosom was rising and
+falling quickly. If he had dared to defy her! What was it the newsboys
+were calling? What a jargon! Why did not Saxe Leinitzer return?
+Perhaps he was afraid! Her heart stood still for a moment, and a little
+half-stifled cry broke from her lips. Lucille looked around quickly.
+
+"What is the matter, Muriel?" she asked. "Are you faint?"
+
+"Faint, no," Lady Carey answered roughly. "I'm quite well. Don't take
+any notice of me. Do you hear? Don't look at me."
+
+Lucille obeyed. Lady Carey sat quite still with her hand pressed to her
+side. It was a stifling pain. She was sure that she had heard at
+last. "Sudden death of a visitor at the Carlton Hotel." The place was
+beginning to go round.
+
+Saxe Leinitzer returned. His face to her seemed positively ghastly. He
+carried an evening paper in his hand. She snatched it away from him. It
+was there before her in bold, black letters:
+
+"Sudden death in the Carlton Hotel."
+
+Her eyes, dim a moment ago, suddenly blazed fire upon him.
+
+"It shall be a life for a life," she whispered. "If you have killed him
+you shall die."
+
+Lucille looked at them bewildered. And just then came a sharp tap at the
+box door. No one answered it, but the door was softly opened. Mr. Sabin
+stood upon the threshold.
+
+"Pray, don't let me disturb you," he said. "I was unable to refrain from
+paying you a brief visit. Why, Prince, Lady Carey! I can assure you that
+I am no ghost."
+
+He glanced from one to the other with a delicate smile of mockery
+parting his thin lips. For upon the Prince's forehead the perspiration
+stood out like beads, and he shrank away from Mr. Sabin as from some
+unholy thing. Lady Carey had fallen back across her chair. Her hand was
+still pressed to her side, and her face was very pale. A nervous little
+laugh broke from her lips.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX
+
+Mr. Sabin found a fourth chair, and calmly seated himself by Lucille's
+side. But his eyes were fixed upon Lady Carey. She was slowly recovering
+herself, but Mr. Sabin, who had never properly understood her attitude
+towards him, was puzzled at the air of intense relief which almost shone
+in her face.
+
+"You seem--all of you," he remarked suavely, "to have found the music
+a little exciting. Wagner certainly knew how to find his way to the
+emotions. Or perhaps I interrupted an interesting discussion?"
+
+Lucille smiled gently upon him.
+
+"These two," she said, looking from the Prince to Lady Carey, "seem to
+have been afflicted with a sudden nervous excitement, and yet I do not
+think that they are, either of them, very susceptible to music."
+
+Lady Carey leaned forward, and looked at him from behind the large fan
+of white feathers which she was lazily fluttering before her face.
+
+"Your entrance," she murmured, "was most opportune, besides being very
+welcome. The Prince and I were literally--on the point of flying at one
+another's throats."
+
+Mr. Sabin glanced at his neighbour and smiled.
+
+"You are certainly a little out of sorts, Saxe Leinitzer," he remarked.
+"You look pale, and your hands are not quite steady. Nerves, I suppose.
+You should see Dr. Carson in Brook Street."
+
+The Prince shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"My health," he said, "was never better. It is true that your coming
+was somewhat of a surprise," he added, looking steadily at Mr. Sabin.
+"I understood that you had gone for a short journey, and I was not
+expecting to see you back again so soon."
+
+"Duson," Mr. Sabin said, "has taken that short journey instead. It
+was rather a liberty, but he left a letter for me fully explaining his
+motives. I cannot blame him."
+
+The Prince stroked his moustache.
+
+"Ah!" he remarked. "That is a pity. You may, however, find it politic,
+even necessary, to join him very shortly."
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled grimly.
+
+"I shall go when I am ready," he said, "not before!"
+
+Lucille looked from one to the other with protesting eyebrows.
+
+"Come," she said, "it is very impolite of you to talk in riddles before
+my face. I have been flattering myself, Victor, that you were here to
+see me. Do not wound my vanity."
+
+He whispered something in her ear, and she laughed softly back at him.
+The Prince, with the evening paper in his hand, escaped from the box,
+and found a retired spot where he could read the little paragraph at his
+leisure. Lady Carey pretended to be absorbed by the music.
+
+"Has anything happened, Victor?" Lucille whispered.
+
+He hesitated.
+
+"Well, in a sense, yes," he admitted. "I appear to have become unpopular
+with our friend, the Prince. Duson, who has always been a spy upon my
+movements, was entrusted with a little sleeping draught for me, which he
+preferred to take himself. That is all."
+
+"Duson is--"
+
+He nodded.
+
+"He is dead!"
+
+Lucille went very pale.
+
+"This is horrible!" she murmured
+
+"The Prince is a little annoyed, naturally," Mr. Sabin said. "It is
+vexing to have your plans upset in such a manner."
+
+She shuddered.
+
+"He is hateful! Victor, I fear that he does not mean to let me leave
+Dorset House just yet. I am almost inclined to become, like you, an
+outcast. Who knows--we might go free. Bloodshed is always avoided as
+much as possible, and I do not see how else they could strike at me.
+Social ostracism is their chief weapon. But in America that could not
+hurt us."
+
+He shook his head.
+
+"Not yet," he said. "I am sure that Saxe Leinitzer is not playing the
+game. But he is too well served here to make defiance wise."
+
+"You run the risk yourself," she protested.
+
+He smiled.
+
+"It is a different matter. By the bye, we are overheard."
+
+Lady Carey had forgotten to listen any more to the music. She was
+watching them both, a steely light in her eyes, her fingers nervously
+entwined. The Prince was still absent.
+
+"Pray do not consider me," she begged. "So far as I am concerned, your
+conversation is of no possible interest. But I think you had better
+remember that the Prince is in the corridor just outside."
+
+"We are much obliged to you," Mr. Sabin said. "The Prince may hear every
+word I have to say about him. But all the same, I thank you for your
+warning."
+
+"I fear that we are very unsociable, Muriel," Lucille said, "and, after
+all, I should never have been here but for you."
+
+Lady Carey turned her left shoulder upon them.
+
+"I beg," she said, "that you will leave me alone with the music. I
+prefer it."
+
+The Prince suddenly stood upon the threshold. His hand rested lightly
+upon the arm of another man.
+
+"Come in, Brott," he said. "The women will be charmed to see you. And I
+don't suppose they've read your speeches. Countess, here is the man who
+counts all equal under the sun, who decries class, and recognises no
+social distinctions. Brott was born to lead a revolution. He is our
+natural enemy. Let us all try to convert him."
+
+Brott was pale, and deep new lines were furrowed on his face.
+Nevertheless he smiled faintly as he bowed over Lucille's fingers.
+
+"My introduction," he remarked, "is scarcely reassuring. Yet here at
+least, if anywhere in the world, we should all meet upon equal ground.
+Music is a universal leveler."
+
+"And we haven't a chance," Lady Carey remarked with uplifted eyebrows,
+"of listening to a bar of it."
+
+Lucille welcomed the newcomer coldly. Nevertheless, he manoeuvred
+himself into the place by her side. She took up her fan and commenced
+swinging it thoughtfully.
+
+"You are surprised to see me here?" he murmured.
+
+"Yes!" she admitted.
+
+He looked wearily away from the stage up into her face.
+
+"And I too," he said. "I am surprised to find myself here!"
+
+"I pictured you," she remarked, "as immersed in affairs. Did I not hear
+something of a Radical ministry with you for Premier?"
+
+"It has been spoken of," he admitted.
+
+"Then I really cannot see," she said, "what you are doing here."
+
+"Why not?" he asked doggedly.
+
+She shrugged her shoulders.
+
+"In the first place," she said, "you ought to be rushing about amongst
+your supporters, keeping them up to the mark, and all that sort of
+thing. And in the second--"
+
+"Well?"
+
+"Are we not the very people against whom you have declared war?"
+
+"I have declared war against no people," he answered. "It is systems and
+classes, abuses, injustice against which I have been forced to speak.
+I would not deprive your Order of a single privilege to which they are
+justly entitled. But you must remember that I am a people's man. Their
+cause is mine. They look to me as their mouthpiece."
+
+Lucille shrugged her shoulders.
+
+"You cannot evade the point," she said. "If you are the, what do you
+call it, the mouthpiece of the people, I do not see how you can be
+anything else than the enemy of the aristocracy."
+
+"The aristocracy? Who are they?" he asked. "I am the enemy of all those
+who, because they possess an ancient name and inherited wealth, consider
+themselves the God-appointed bullies of the poor, dealing them out
+meagre charities, lordly patronage, an unspoken but bitter contempt. But
+the aristocracy of the earth are not of such as these. Your class are
+furnishing the world with advanced thinkers every year, every month!
+Inherited prejudices can never survive the next few generations. The
+fusion of classes must come."
+
+She shook her head.
+
+"You are sanguine, my friend," she said. "Many generations have come and
+gone since the wonderful pages of history were opened to us. And during
+all these years how much nearer have the serf and the aristocrat come
+together? Nay, have they not rather drifted apart?... But listen! This
+is the great chorus. We must not miss it."
+
+"So the Prince has brought back the wanderer," Lady Carey whispered to
+Mr. Sabin behind her fan. "Hasn't he rather the air of a sheep who has
+strayed from the fold?"
+
+Mr. Sabin raised the horn eyeglass, which he so seldom used, and
+contemplated Brott steadily.
+
+"He reminds me more than ever," he remarked, "of Rienzi. He is like a
+man torn asunder by great causes. They say that his speech at Glasgow
+was the triumph of a born orator."
+
+Lady Carey shrugged her shoulders.
+
+"It was practically the preaching a revolution to the people," she said.
+"A few more such, and we might have the red flag waving. He left Glasgow
+in a ferment. If he really comes into power, what are we to expect?"
+
+"To the onlookers," Mr. Sabin remarked, "a revolution in this country
+would possess many interesting features. The common people lack the
+ferocity of our own rabble, but they are even more determined. I may yet
+live to see an English Duke earning an honest living in the States."
+
+"It depends very much upon Brott," Lady Carey said. "For his own sake it
+is a pity that he is in love with Lucille."
+
+Mr. Sabin agreed with her blandly.
+
+"It is," he affirmed, "a most regrettable incident."
+
+She leaned a little towards him. The box was not a large one, and their
+chairs already touched.
+
+"Are you a jealous husband?" she asked.
+
+"Horribly," he answered.
+
+"Your devotion to Lucille, or rather the singleness of your devotion to
+Lucille," she remarked, "is positively the most gauche thing about you.
+It is--absolutely callow!"
+
+He laughed gently.
+
+"Did I not always tell you," he said, "that when I did marry I should
+make an excellent husband?"
+
+"You are at least," she answered sharply, "a very complaisant one."
+
+The Prince leaned forward from the shadows of the box.
+
+"I invite you all," he said, "to supper with me. It is something of an
+occasion, this! For I do not think that we shall all meet again just as
+we are now for a very long time."
+
+"Your invitation," Mr. Sabin remarked, "is most agreeable. But your
+suggestion is, to say the least of it, nebulous. I do not see what is to
+prevent your all having supper with me to-morrow evening."
+
+Lady Carey laughed as she rose, and stretched out her hand for her
+cloak.
+
+"To-morrow evening," she said, "is a long way off. Let us make sure of
+to-night--before the Prince changes his mind."
+
+Mr. Sabin bowed low.
+
+"To-night by all means," he declared. "But my invitation remains--a
+challenge!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI
+
+The Prince, being host, arranged the places at his supper-table. Mr.
+Sabin found himself, therefore, between Lady Carey and a young German
+attache, whom they had met in the ante-room of the restaurant. Lucille
+had the Prince and Mr. Brott on either side of her.
+
+Lady Carey monopolised at first the greater part of the conversation.
+Mr. Sabin was unusually silent. The German attache, whose name was Baron
+von Opperman, did not speak until the champagne was served, when he
+threw a bombshell into the midst of the little party.
+
+"I hear," he said, with a broad and seraphic smile, "that in this hotel
+there has to-day a murder been committed."
+
+Baron von Opperman was suddenly the cynosure of several pairs of eyes.
+He was delighted with the success of his attempt towards the general
+entertainment.
+
+"The evening papers," he continued, "they have in them news of a sudden
+death. But in the hotel here now they are speaking of something--what
+you call more--mysterious. There has been ordered an examination
+post-mortem!"
+
+"It is a case of poisoning then, I presume?" the Prince asked, leaning
+forward.
+
+"It is so supposed," the attache answered. "It seems that the doctors
+could find no trace of disease, nothing to have caused death. They
+were not able to decide anything. The man, they said, was in perfect
+health--but dead."
+
+"It must have been, then," the Prince remarked, "a very wonderful
+poison."
+
+"Without doubt," Baron Opperman answered.
+
+The Prince sighed gently.
+
+"There are many such," he murmured. "Indeed the science of toxicology
+was never so ill-understood as now. I am assured that there are many
+poisons known only to a few chemists in the world, a single grain of
+which is sufficient to destroy the strongest man and leave not the
+slightest trace behind. If the poisoner be sufficiently accomplished he
+can pursue his--calling without the faintest risk of detection."
+
+Mr. Sabin sipped his wine thoughtfully.
+
+"The Prince is, I believe, right," he remarked. "It is for that reason,
+doubtless, that I have heard of men whose lives have been threatened,
+who have deposited in safe places a sealed statement of the danger in
+which they find themselves, with an account of its source, so that if
+they should come to an end in any way mysterious there may be evidence
+against their murderers."
+
+"A very reasonable and judicious precaution," the Prince remarked with
+glittering eyes. "Only if the poison was indeed of such a nature that it
+was not possible to trace it nothing worse than suspicion could ever be
+the lot of any one."
+
+Mr. Sabin helped himself carefully to salad, and resumed the discussion
+with his next course.
+
+"Perhaps not," he admitted. "But you must remember that suspicion is of
+itself a grievous embarrassment. No man likes to feel that he is being
+suspected of murder. By the bye, is it known whom the unfortunate person
+was?"
+
+"The servant of a French nobleman who is staying in the hotel," Mr.
+Brott remarked. "I heard as much as that."
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled. Lady Carey glanced at him meaningly.
+
+"You have worried the Prince quite sufficiently," she whispered. "Change
+the subject."
+
+Mr. Sabin bowed.
+
+"You are very considerate--to the Prince," he said.
+
+"It is perhaps for your sake," she answered. "And as for the
+Prince--well, you know, or you should know, for how much he counts with
+me."
+
+Mr. Sabin glanced at her curiously. She was a little flushed as though
+with some inward excitement. Her eyes were bright and soft. Despite a
+certain angularity of figure and her hollow cheeks she was certainly one
+of the most distinguished-looking women in the room.
+
+"You are so dense," she whispered in his ear, "wilfully dense, perhaps.
+You will not understand that I wish to be your friend."
+
+He smiled with gentle deprecation.
+
+"Do you blame me," he murmured, "if I seem incredulous? For I am an old
+man, and you are spoken of always as the friend of my enemy, the friend
+of the Prince."
+
+"I wonder," she said thoughtfully, "if this is really the secret of your
+mistrust? Do you indeed fear that I have no other interest in life save
+to serve Saxe Leinitzer?"
+
+"As to that," he answered, "I cannot say. Yet I know that only a few
+months ago you were acting under orders from him. It is you who brought
+Lucille from America. It was through you that the first blow was struck
+at my happiness."
+
+"Cannot I atone?" she murmured under her breath. "If I can I will.
+And as for the present, well, I am outside his schemes now. Let us be
+friends. You would find me a very valuable ally."
+
+"Let it be so," he answered without emotion. "You shall help me, if you
+will, to regain Lucille. I promise you then that my gratitude shall not
+disappoint you."
+
+She bit her lip.
+
+"And are you sure," she whispered, "that Lucille is anxious to be won
+back? She loves intrigue, excitement, the sense of being concerned
+in important doings. Besides--you must have heard what they say about
+her--and Brott. Look at her now. She wears her grass widowhood lightly
+enough."
+
+Mr. Sabin looked across the table. Lucille had indeed all the appearance
+of a woman thoroughly at peace with the world and herself. Brott was
+talking to her in smothered and eager undertones. The Prince was waiting
+for an opportunity to intervene. Mr. Sabin looked into Brott's white
+strong face, and was thoughtful.
+
+"It is a great power--the power of my sex," Lady Carey continued, with
+a faint, subtle smile. "A word from Lucille, and the history book of the
+future must be differently written."
+
+"She will not speak that word," Mr. Sabin said. Lady Carey shrugged
+her shoulders. The subtlety of her smile faded away. Her whole face
+expressed a contemptuous and self-assured cynicism.
+
+"You know her very well," she murmured. "Yet she and I are no strangers.
+She is one who loves to taste--no, to drink--deeply of all the
+experiences of life. Why should we blame her, you and I? Have we not the
+same desire?"
+
+Mr. Sabin lit a cigarette.
+
+"Once, perhaps," he remarked. "You must not forget that I am no longer a
+young man."
+
+She leaned towards him.
+
+"You will die young," she murmured. "You are not of the breed of men who
+grow old."
+
+"Do you mean to turn my head?" he asked her, with a humorous smile.
+
+"It would be easier," she answered, "than to touch your heart."
+
+Then Lucille looked across at them--and Mr. Sabin suddenly remembered
+that Reginald Brott knew them both only as strangers.
+
+"Muriel," she said, "you are behaving disgracefully."
+
+"I am doing my best," Lady Carey answered, "to keep you in countenance."
+
+The eyes of the two women met for a moment, and though the smiles
+lingered still upon their faces Lady Carey at any rate was not able to
+wholly conceal her hatred. Lucille shrugged her shoulders.
+
+"I am doing my best," she said, "to convert Mr. Brott."
+
+"To what?" Lady Carey asked.
+
+"To a sane point of view concerning the holiness of the aristocracy,"
+Lucille answered. "I am afraid though that I have made very little
+impression. In his heart I believe Mr. Brott would like to see us all
+working for our living, school-teachers and dressmakers, and that sort
+of thing, you know."
+
+Mr. Brott protested.
+
+"I am not even," he declared, "moderately advanced in my views as
+regards matters of your sex. To tell you the truth, I do not like women
+to work at all outside their homes."
+
+Lady Carey laughed.
+
+"My dear," she said to Lucille, "you and I may as well retire in
+despair. Can't you see the sort of woman Mr. Brott admires? She isn't
+like us a bit. She is probably a healthy, ruddy-cheeked young person who
+lives in the country, gets up to breakfast to pour out the coffee for
+some sort of a male relative, goes round the garden snipping off roses
+in big gloves and a huge basket, interviews the cook, orders the dinner,
+makes fancy waistcoats for her husband, and failing a sewing maid, does
+the mending for the family. You and I, Lucille, are not like that."
+
+"Well, you have mentioned nothing which I couldn't do, if it seemed
+worth while," Lucille objected. "It sounds very primitive and
+delightful. I am sure we are all too luxurious and too lazy. I think we
+ought to turn over a new leaf."
+
+"For you, dear Lucille," Lady Carey said with suave and deadly satire,
+"what improvement is possible? You have all that you could desire. It
+is much less fortunate persons, such as myself, to whom Utopia must seem
+such a delightful place."
+
+A frock-coated and altogether immaculate young man approached their
+table and accosted Mr. Sabin.
+
+"I beg your pardon, sir," he said, "but the manager would be much
+obliged if you would spare him a moment or two in his private room as
+soon as possible."
+
+Mr. Sabin nodded.
+
+"In a few minutes," he answered.
+
+The little party broke up almost immediately. Coffee was ordered in the
+palm court, where the band was playing. Mr. Sabin and the Prince fell a
+little behind the others on the way out of the room.
+
+"You heard my summons?" Mr. Sabin asked.
+
+"Yes!"
+
+"I am going to be cross-examined as regards Duson. I am no longer a
+member of the Order. What is to prevent my setting them upon the right
+track?"
+
+"The fact," the Prince said coolly, "that you are hoping one day to
+recover Lucille."
+
+"I doubt," Mr. Sabin said, "whether you are strong enough to keep her
+from me."
+
+The Prince smiled. All his white teeth were showing.
+
+"Come," he said, "you know better than--much better than that. Lucille
+must wait her release. You know that."
+
+"I will buy it," Mr. Sabin said, "with a lie to the manager here, or I
+will tell the truth and still take her from you."
+
+The Prince stood upon the topmost step of the balcony. Below was the
+palm court, with many little groups of people dotted about.
+
+"My dear friend," he said, "Duson died absolutely of his own free will.
+You know that quite well. We should have preferred that the matter had
+been otherwise arranged. But as it is we are safe, absolutely safe."
+
+"Duson's letter!" Mr. Sabin remarked.
+
+"You will not show it," the Prince answered. "You cannot. You have kept
+it too long. And, after all, you cannot escape from the main fact. Duson
+committed suicide."
+
+"He was incited to murder. His letter proves it."
+
+The Prince shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"By whom? Ah, how your story would excite ridicule. I seem to hear the
+laughter now. No, my dear Souspennier, you would bargain for me with
+Lucille. Look below. Are we likely to part with her just yet?"
+
+In a corner, behind a gigantic palm, Lucille and Brott were talking
+together. Lady Carey had drawn Opperman a little distance away. Brott
+was talking eagerly, his cheeks flushed, his manner earnest. Mr. Sabin
+turned upon his heel and walked away.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII
+
+Mr. Sabin, although he had registered at the hotel under his accustomed
+pseudonym, had taken no pains to conceal his identity, and was well
+known to the people in authority about the place. He was received with
+all the respect due to his rank.
+
+"Your Grace will, I trust, accept my most sincere apologies for
+disturbing you," Mr. Hertz, the manager, said, rising and bowing at his
+entrance. "We have here, however, an emissary connected with the police
+come to inquire into the sad incident of this afternoon. He expressed a
+wish to ask your Grace a question or two with a view to rendering your
+Grace's attendance at the inquest unnecessary."
+
+Mr. Sabin nodded.
+
+"I am perfectly willing," he said, "to answer any questions you may
+choose to put to me."
+
+A plain, hard-featured little man, in a long black overcoat, and holding
+a bowler hat in his hand, bowed respectfully to Mr. Sabin.
+
+"I am much obliged to you, sir," he said. "My name is John Passmore.
+We do not of course appear in this matter unless the post-mortem should
+indicate anything unusual in the circumstances of Duson's death, but it
+is always well to be prepared, and I ventured to ask Mr. Hertz here to
+procure for me your opinion as regards the death of your servant."
+
+"You have asked me," Mr. Sabin said gravely, "a very difficult
+question."
+
+The eyes of the little detective flashed keenly.
+
+"You do not believe then, sir, that he died a natural death?"
+
+"I do not," Mr. Sabin answered.
+
+Mr. Hertz was startled. The detective controlled his features admirably.
+
+"May I ask your reasons, sir?"
+
+Mr. Sabin lightly shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"I have never known the man to have a day's illness in his life," he
+said. "Further, since his arrival in England he has been acting in a
+strange and furtive manner, and I gathered that he had some cause for
+fear which he was indisposed to talk about."
+
+"This," the detective said, "is very interesting."
+
+"Doubtless," Mr. Sabin answered. "But before I say anything more I
+must clearly understand my position. I am giving you personally a few
+friendly hints, in the interests of justice perhaps, but still quite
+informally. I am not in possession of any definite facts concerning
+Duson, and what I say to you here I am not prepared to say at the
+inquest, before which I presume I may have to appear as a witness.
+There, I shall do nothing more save identify Duson and state the
+circumstances under which I found him."
+
+"I understand that perfectly, sir," the man answered. "The less said at
+the inquest the better in the interests of justice."
+
+Mr. Sabin nodded.
+
+"I am glad," he said, "that you appreciate that. I do not mind going so
+far then as to tell you that I believe Duson died of poison."
+
+"Can you give me any idea," the detective asked, "as to the source?"
+
+"None," Mr. Sabin answered. "That you must discover for yourselves.
+Duson was a man of silent and secretive habits, and it has occurred to
+me more than once that he might possibly be a member of one of those
+foreign societies who have their headquarters in Soho, and concerning
+which you probably know more than I do."
+
+The detective smiled. It was a very slight flicker of the lips, but it
+attracted Mr. Sabin's keen attention.
+
+"Your suggestions," the detective said, "are making this case a very
+interesting one. I have always understood, however, that reprisals of
+this extreme nature are seldom resorted to in this country. Besides,
+the man's position seems scarcely to indicate sufficient
+importance--perhaps--"
+
+"Well?" Mr. Sabin interjected.
+
+"I notice that Duson was found in your sitting-room. It occurs to me
+as a possibility that he may have met with a fate intended for some one
+else--for yourself, for instance, sir!"
+
+"But I," Mr. Sabin said smoothly, "am a member of no secret society,
+nor am I conscious of having enemies sufficiently venomous to desire my
+life."
+
+The detective sat for a moment with immovable face.
+
+"We, all of us, know our friends, sir," he said. "There are few of us
+properly acquainted with our enemies."
+
+Mr. Sabin lit a cigarette. His fingers were quite steady, but this man
+was making him think.
+
+"You do not seriously believe," he asked, "that Duson met with a death
+which was intended for me?"
+
+"I am afraid," the detective said thoughtfully, "that I know no more
+about it than you do."
+
+"I see," Mr. Sabin said, "that I am no stranger to you."
+
+"You are very far from being that, sir," the man answered. "A few years
+ago I was working for the Government--and you were not often out of my
+sight."
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled.
+
+"It was perhaps judicious," he remarked, "though I am afraid it proved
+of very little profit to you. And what about the present time?"
+
+"I see no harm in telling you, sir, that a general watch is kept upon
+your movements. Duson was useful to us... but now Duson is dead."
+
+"It is a fact," Mr. Sabin said impressively, "that Duson was a genius.
+My admiration for him continually increases."
+
+"Duson made harmless reports to us as we desired them," the detective
+said. "I have an idea, however, that if this course had at any time been
+inimical to your interests that Duson would have deceived us."
+
+"I am convinced of it," Mr. Sabin declared.
+
+"And Duson is dead!"
+
+Mr. Sabin nodded gravely.
+
+The little hard-visaged man looked steadily for a moment upon the
+carpet.
+
+"Duson died virtually whilst accepting pay from if not actually in the
+employ of our Secret Service Department. You will understand, therefore,
+that we, knowing of this complication in his life, naturally incline
+towards the theory of murder. Shall I be taking a liberty, sir, if I
+give you an unprofessional word of warning?"
+
+Mr. Sabin raised his eyebrows.
+
+"By no means," he answered. "But surely you cannot--"
+
+The man smiled.
+
+"No, sir," he said drily. "I do not for one moment suspect you. The man
+was our spy upon your movements, but I am perfectly aware that there has
+been nothing worth reporting, and I also know that you would never run
+such a risk for the removal of so insignificant a person. No, my warning
+comes to you from a different point of view. It is, if you will pardon
+my saying so, none the less personal, but wholly friendly. The case of
+Duson will be sifted to the dregs, but unless I am greatly mistaken,
+and I do not see room for the possibility of a mistake, I know the truth
+already."
+
+"You will share your knowledge?" Mr. Sabin asked quietly.
+
+The detective shook his head.
+
+"You shall know," he said, "before the last moment. But I want to warn
+you that when you do know it--it will be a shock to you."
+
+Mr. Sabin stood perfectly still for several moments. This little man
+believed what he was saying. He was certainly deceived. Yet none the
+less Mr. Sabin was thoughtful.
+
+"You do not feel inclined," he said slowly, "to give me your entire
+confidence."
+
+"Not at present, sir," the man answered. "You would certainly intervene,
+and my case would be spoilt."
+
+Mr. Sabin glanced at the clock.
+
+"If you care to call on me to-morrow," he said, "I could perhaps show
+you something which might change your opinion."
+
+The detective bowed.
+
+"I am always open, sir," he said, "to conviction. I will come about
+twelve o'clock."
+
+Mr. Sabin went back to the palm lounge. Lucille and Reginald Brott were
+sitting together at a small table, talking earnestly to one another.
+The Prince and Lady Carey had joined another party who were all talking
+together near the entrance. The latter, directly she saw them coming,
+detached herself from them and came to him.
+
+"Your coffee is almost cold," she said, "but the Prince has found some
+brandy of wonderful age, somewhere in the last century, I believe."
+
+Mr. Sabin glanced towards Lucille. She appeared engrossed in her
+conversation, and had not noticed his approach. Lady Carey shrugged.
+
+"You have only a few minutes," she said, "before that dreadful person
+comes and frowns us all out. I have kept you a chair."
+
+Mr. Sabin sat down. Lady Carey interposed herself between him and the
+small table at which Lucille was sitting.
+
+"Have they discovered anything?" she asked.
+
+"Nothing!" Mr. Sabin answered.
+
+She played with her fan for a moment. Then she looked him steadily in
+the face.
+
+"My friend?"
+
+He glanced towards her.
+
+"Lady Carey!"
+
+"Why are you so obstinate?" she exclaimed in a low, passionate whisper.
+"I want to be your friend, and I could be very useful to you. Yet you
+keep me always at arm's length. You are making a mistake. Indeed you
+are. I suppose you do not trust me. Yet reflect. Have I ever told you
+anything that was not true? Have I ever tried to deceive you? I don't
+pretend to be a paragon of the virtues. I live my life to please myself.
+I admit it. Why not? It is simply applying the same sort of philosophy
+to my life as you have applied to yours. My enemies can find plenty to
+say about me--but never that I have been false to a friend. Why do you
+keep me always at arm's length, as though I were one of those who wished
+you evil?"
+
+"Lady Carey," Mr. Sabin said, "I will not affect to misunderstand
+you, and I am flattered that you should consider my good will of any
+importance. But you are the friend of the Prince of Saxe Leinitzer. You
+are one of those even now who are working actively against me. I am not
+blaming you, but we are on opposite sides."
+
+Lady Carey looked for a moment across at the Prince, and her eyes were
+full of venom.
+
+"If you knew," she murmured, "how I loathe that man. Friends! That is
+all long since past. Nothing would give me so much pleasure as never to
+see his face again."
+
+"Nevertheless," Mr. Sabin reminded her, "whatever your private feelings
+may be, he has claims upon you which you cannot resist."
+
+"There is one thing in the world," she said in a low tone, "for which I
+would risk even the abnegation of those claims."
+
+"You would perjure your honour?"
+
+"Yes--if it came to that."
+
+Mr. Sabin moved uneasily in his chair. The woman was in earnest. She
+offered him an invaluable alliance; she could show him the way to
+hold his own against even the inimical combination by which he was
+surrounded. If only he could compromise. But her eyes were seeking his
+eagerly, even fiercely.
+
+"You doubt me still," she whispered. "And I thought that you had genius.
+Listen, I will prove myself. The Prince has one of his foolish passions
+for Lucille. You know that. So far she has shown herself able to resist
+his fascinations. He is trying other means. Lucille is in danger!
+Duson!--but after all, I was never really in danger, except the time
+when I carried the despatches for the colonel and rode straight into a
+Boer ambush."
+
+Mr. Sabin saw nothing, but he did not move a muscle of his face. A
+moment later they heard the Prince's voice from behind them.
+
+"I am very sorry," he said, "to interrupt these interesting
+reminiscences, but you see that every one is going. Lucille is already
+in the cloak-room."
+
+Lady Carey rose at once, but the glance she threw at the Prince was a
+singularly malicious one. They walked down the carpeted way together,
+and Lady Carey left them without a word. In the vestibule Mr. Sabin and
+Reginald Brott came face to face.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII
+
+The greeting between the two men was cold, and the Prince almost
+immediately stepped between them. Nevertheless, Brott seemed to have a
+fancy to talk with Mr. Sabin.
+
+"I was at Camperdown House yesterday," he remarked. "Her Ladyship was
+regretting that she saw you so seldom."
+
+"I have been a little remiss," Mr. Sabin answered. "I hope to lunch
+there to-morrow."
+
+"You have seen the evening paper, Brott?" the Prince asked.
+
+"I saw the early editions," Brott answered. "Is there anything fresh?"
+
+The Prince dropped his voice a little. He drew Brott on one side.
+
+"The Westminster declared that you had left for Windsor by an early
+train this afternoon, and gives a list of your Cabinet. The Pall Mall,
+on the other hand, declares that Letheringham will assuredly be sent for
+to-morrow."
+
+Brott shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"There are bound to be a crop of such reports at a time like this," he
+remarked.
+
+The Prince dropped his voice almost to a whisper.
+
+"Brott," he said, "there is something which I have had it in my mind to
+say to you for the last few days. I am not perhaps a great politician,
+but, like many outsiders, I see perhaps a good deal of the game. I know
+fairly well what the feeling is in Vienna and Berlin. I can give you a
+word of advice."
+
+"You are very kind, Prince," Brott remarked, looking uneasily over his
+shoulder. "But--"
+
+"It is concerning Brand. There is no man more despised and disliked
+abroad, not only because he is a Jew and ill-bred, but because of his
+known sympathy with some of these anarchists who are perfect firebrands
+in Europe."
+
+"I am exceedingly obliged to you," Brott answered hurriedly. "I am
+afraid, however, that you anticipate matters a good deal. I have not yet
+been asked to form a Cabinet. It is doubtful whether I ever shall. And,
+beyond that, it is also doubtful whether even if I am asked I shall
+accept."
+
+"I must confess," the Prince said, "that you puzzle me. Every one says
+that the Premiership of the country is within your reach. It is surely
+the Mecca of all politicians."
+
+"There are complications," Brott muttered. "You--"
+
+He stopped short and moved towards the door. Lucille, unusually pale
+and grave, had just issued from the ladies' ante-room, and joined Lady
+Carey, who was talking to Mr. Sabin. She touched the latter lightly on
+the arm.
+
+"Help us to escape," she said quickly. "I am weary of my task. Can we
+get away without their seeing us?"
+
+Mr. Sabin offered his arm. They passed along the broad way, and as
+they were almost the last to leave the place, their carriage was easily
+found. The Prince and Mr. Brott appeared only in time to see Mr. Sabin
+turning away, hat in hand, from the curb-stone. Brott's face darkened.
+
+"Prince," he said, "who is that man?"
+
+The Prince shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"A man," he said, "who has more than once nearly ruined your country.
+His life has been a splendid failure. He would have given India to the
+Russians, but they mistrusted him and trifled away their chance. Once
+since then he nearly sold this country to Germany; it was a trifle only
+which intervened. He has been all his life devoted to one cause."
+
+"And that?" Brott asked.
+
+"The restoration of the monarchy to France. He, as you of course know,
+is the Duc de Souspennier, the sole living member in the direct line of
+one of the most ancient and historical houses in England. My friend,"
+he added, turning to Mr. Sabin, "you have stolen a march upon us. We had
+not even an opportunity of making our adieux to the ladies."
+
+"I imagine," Mr. Sabin answered, "that the cause of quarrel may rest
+with them. You were nowhere in sight when they came out."
+
+"These fascinating politics," the Prince remarked. "We all want to talk
+politics to Mr. Brott just now."
+
+"I will wish you good-night, gentlemen," Mr. Sabin said, and passed into
+the hotel.
+
+The Prince touched Brott on the arm.
+
+"Will you come round to the club, and take a hand at bridge?" he said.
+
+Brott laughed shortly.
+
+"I imagine," he said, "that I should be an embarrassing guest to you
+just now at, say the Mallborough, or even at the St. James. I believe
+the aristocracy are looking forward to the possibility of my coming into
+power with something like terror."
+
+"I am not thoroughly versed; in the politics of this country," the
+Prince said, "but I have always understood that your views were
+very much advanced. Dorset solemnly believes that you are pledged to
+exterminate the large landed proprietors, and I do not think he would be
+surprised to hear that you had a guillotine up your sleeve."
+
+The two men were strolling along Pall Mall. The Prince had lit a large
+cigar, and was apparently on the best of terms with himself and the
+world in general. Brott, on the contrary, was most unlike himself,
+preoccupied, and apparently ill at ease.
+
+"The Duke and his class are, of course, my natural opponents," Brott
+said shortly. "By the bye, Prince," he added, suddenly turning towards
+him, and with a complete change of tone, "it is within your power to do
+me a favour."
+
+"You have only to command," the Prince assured him good-naturedly.
+
+"My rooms are close here," Brott continued. "Will you accompany me
+there, and grant me the favour of a few minutes' conversation?"
+
+"Assuredly!" the Prince answered, flicking the end off his cigar. "It
+will be a pleasure."
+
+They walked on towards their destination in silence. Brott's secretary
+was in the library with a huge pile of letters and telegrams before him.
+He welcomed Brott with relief.
+
+"We have been sending all over London for you, sir," he said.
+
+Brott nodded.
+
+"I am better out of the way for the present," he answered. "Deny me to
+everybody for an hour, especially Letheringham. There is nothing here, I
+suppose, which cannot wait so long as that?"
+
+The secretary looked a little doubtful.
+
+"I think not, sir," he decided.
+
+"Very good. Go and get something to eat. You look fagged. And tell Hyson
+to bring up some liqueurs, will you! I shall be engaged for a short
+time."
+
+The secretary withdrew. A servant appeared with a little tray of
+liqueurs, and in obedience to an impatient gesture from his master, left
+them upon the table. Brott closed the door firmly.
+
+"Prince," he said, resuming his seat, "I wished to speak with you
+concerning the Countess."
+
+Saxe Leinitzer nodded.
+
+"All right," he said. "I am listening!"
+
+"I understand," Brott continued, "that you are one of her oldest
+friends, and also one of the trustees of her estates. I presume that you
+stand to her therefore to some extent in the position of an adviser?"
+
+"It is perfectly true," the Prince admitted.
+
+"I, too, am an old friend, as she has doubtless told you," Brott said.
+"All my life she has been the one woman whom I have desired to call my
+wife. That desire has never been so strong as at the present moment."
+
+The Prince removed his cigar from his mouth and looked grave.
+
+"But, my dear Brott," he said, "have you considered the enormous gulf
+between your--views? The Countess owns great hereditary estates, she
+comes from a family which is almost Royal, she herself is an aristocrat
+to the backbone. It is a class against which you have declared war. How
+can you possibly come together on common ground?"
+
+Brott was silent for a moment. Looking at him steadily the Prince was
+surprised at the change in the man's appearance. His cheeks seemed
+blanched and his skin drawn. He had lost flesh, his eyes were hollow,
+and he frequently betrayed in small mannerisms a nervousness wholly new
+and unfamiliar to him.
+
+"You speak as a man of sense, Prince," he said after a while. "You are
+absolutely correct. This matter has caused me a great deal of anxious
+thought. To falter at this moment is to lose, politically, all that I
+have worked for all my life. It is to lose the confidence of the
+people who have trusted me. It is a betrayal, the thought of which is
+a constant shame to me. But, on the other hand, Lucille is the dearest
+thing to me in life."
+
+The Prince's expression was wholly sympathetic. The derision which
+lurked behind he kept wholly concealed. A strong man so abjectly in the
+toils, and he to be chosen for his confidant! It was melodrama with a
+dash of humour.
+
+"If I am to help you," the Prince said, "I must know everything. Have
+you made any proposals to Lucille? In plain words, how much of your
+political future are you disposed to sacrifice?"
+
+"All!" Brott said hoarsely. "All for a certainty of her. Not one jot
+without."
+
+"And she?"
+
+Brott sprang to his feet, white and nervous.
+
+"It is where I am at fault," he exclaimed. "It is why I have asked for
+your advice, your help perhaps. I do not find it easy to understand
+Lucille. Perhaps it is because I am not well versed in the ways of her
+sex. I find her elusive. She will give me no promise. Before I went
+to Glasgow I talked with her. If she would have married me then my
+political career was over--thrown on one side like an old garment. But
+she would give me no promise. In everything save the spoken words I
+crave she has promised me her love. Again there comes a climax. In a few
+hours I must make my final choice. I must decline to join Letheringham,
+in which case the King must send for me, or accept office with him,
+and throw away the one great chance of this generation. Letheringham's
+Cabinet, of course, would be a moderate Liberal one, a paragon of milk
+and water in effectiveness. If I go in alone we make history. The moment
+of issue has come. And, Prince, although I have pleaded with all the
+force and all the earnestness I know, Lucille remains elusive. If I
+choose for her side--she promises me--reward. But it is vague to me. I
+don't, I can't understand! I want her for my wife, I want her for the
+rest of my life--nothing else. Tell me, is there any barrier to this?
+There are no complications in her life which I do not know of? I want
+your assurance. I want her promise. You understand me?"
+
+"Yes, I understand you," the Prince said gravely. "I understand more
+than you do. I understand Lucille's position."
+
+Brott leaned forward with bright eyes.
+
+"Ah!"
+
+"Lucille, the Countess of Radantz, is at the present moment a married
+woman."
+
+Brott was speechless. His face was like a carved stone image, from which
+the life had wholly gone.
+
+"Her husband--in name only, let me tell you, is the Mr. Sabin with whom
+we had supper this evening."
+
+"Great God!"
+
+"Their marriage had strange features in it which are not my concern, or
+even yours," the Prince said deliberately. "The truth is, that they have
+not lived together for years, they never will again, for their divorce
+proceedings would long ago have been concluded but for the complications
+arising from the difference between the Hungarian and the American laws.
+Here, without doubt, is the reason why the Countess has hesitated to
+pledge her word directly."
+
+"It is wonderful," Brott said slowly. "But it explains everything."
+
+There was a loud knock at the door. The secretary appeared upon the
+threshold. Behind him was a tall, slim young man in traveling costume.
+
+"The King's messenger!" Brott exclaimed, rising to his feet.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIV
+
+The Prince presented himself with a low bow. Lucille had a copy of the
+morning paper in her hand.
+
+"I congratulate you, Countess," he said. "You progress admirably. It is
+a great step gained."
+
+Lucille, who was looking pale and nervous, regarded him with anxiety.
+
+"A step! But it is everything. If these rumours are true, he refuses
+the attempt to form a Cabinet. He takes a subordinate position under
+Letheringham. Every paper this morning says that if this is so his
+political career is over. It is true, is it not?"
+
+"It is a great gain," the Prince said slowly.
+
+"But it is everything," Lucille declared, with a rising note of passion
+in her tone. "It was my task. It is accomplished. I demand my release."
+
+The Prince was silent for a moment.
+
+"You are in a great hurry, Lucille," he said.
+
+"What if I am!" she replied fiercely. "Do you suppose that this life of
+lies and deceit is pleasant to me? Do you suppose that it is a pleasant
+task to lure a brave man on to his ruin?"
+
+The Prince raised his eyebrows.
+
+"Come," he said, "you can have no sympathy with Reginald Brott, the
+sworn enemy of our class, a Socialist, a demagogue who would parcel out
+our lands in allotments, a man who has pledged himself to nothing more
+nor less than a revolution."
+
+"The man's views are hateful enough," she answered, "but he is in
+earnest, and however misguided he may be there is something noble in his
+unselfishness, in his, steady fixedness of purpose."
+
+The Prince's face indicated his contempt.
+
+"Such men," he declared, "are only fit to be crushed like vermin under
+foot. In any other country save England we should have dealt with him
+differently."
+
+"This is all beside the question," she declared. "My task was to prevent
+his becoming Prime Minister, and I have succeeded."
+
+The Prince gave vent to a little gesture of dissent. "Your task," he
+said, "went a little farther than that. We require his political ruin."
+
+She pointed to the pile of newspapers upon the table.
+
+"Read what they say!" she exclaimed. "There is not one who does not use
+that precise term. He has missed his opportunity. The people will never
+trust him again."
+
+"That, at any rate, is not certain," the Prince said. "You must remember
+that before long he will realise that he has been your tool. What
+then? He will become more rabid than ever, more also to be feared. No,
+Lucille, your task is not yet over. He must be involved in an open and
+public scandal, and with you."
+
+She was white almost to the lips with passion.
+
+"You expect a great deal!" she exclaimed. "You expect me to ruin my
+life, then, to give my honour as well as these weary months, this
+constant humiliation."
+
+"You are pleased to be melodramatic," he said coldly. "It is quite
+possible to involve him without actually going to extremes."
+
+"And what of my husband?" she asked.
+
+The Prince laughed unpleasantly.
+
+"If you have not taught him complaisance," he said, "it is possible, of
+course, that Mr. Sabin might be unkind. But what of it? You are your
+own mistress. You are a woman of the world. Without him there is an
+infinitely greater future before you than as his wife you could ever
+enjoy."
+
+"You are pleased," she said, "to be enigmatic."
+
+The Prince looked hard at her. Her face was white and set. He sighed.
+
+"Lucille," he said, "I have been very patient for many years. Yet you
+know very well my secret, and in your heart you know very well that I am
+one of those who generally win the thing upon which they have set their
+hearts. I have always loved you, Lucille, but never more than now.
+Fidelity is admirable, but surely you have done your duty. He is an old
+man, and a man who has failed in the great things of life. I, on the
+other hand, can offer you a great future. Saxe Leinitzer, as you know,
+is a kingdom of its own, and, Lucille, I stand well with the Emperor.
+The Socialist party in Berlin are strong and increasing. He needs us.
+Who can say what honours may not be in store for us? For I, too, am of
+the Royal House, Lucille. I am his kinsman. He never forgets that. Come,
+throw aside this restlessness. I will tell you how to deal with Brott,
+and the publicity, after all, will be nothing. We will go abroad
+directly afterwards."
+
+"Have you finished?" she asked.
+
+"You will be reasonable!" he begged.
+
+"Reasonable!" She turned upon him with flashing eyes. "I wonder how
+you ever dared to imagine that I could tolerate you for one moment as a
+lover or a husband. Wipe it out of your mind once and for all. You are
+repellent to me. Positively the only wish I have in connection with
+you is never to see your face again. As for my duty, I have done it. My
+conscience is clear. I shall leave this house to-day."
+
+"I hope," the Prince said softly, "that you will do nothing rash!"
+
+"In an hour," she said, "I shall be at the Carlton with my husband. I
+will trust to him to protect me from you."
+
+The Prince shook his head.
+
+"You talk rashly," he said. "You do not think. You are forbidden to
+leave this house. You are forbidden to join your husband."
+
+She laughed scornfully, but underneath was a tremor of uneasiness.
+
+"You summoned me from America," she said, "and I came... I was forced to
+leave my husband without even a word of farewell. I did it! You set me
+a task--I have accomplished it. I claim that I have kept my bond, that
+I have worked out my own freedom. If you require more of me, I say that
+you are overstepping your authority, and I refuse. Set the black cross
+against my name if you will. I will take the risk."
+
+The Prince came a little nearer to her. She held her own bravely enough,
+but there was a look in his face which terrified her.
+
+"Lucille," he said, "you force me to disclose something which I have
+kept so far to myself. I wished to spare you anxiety, but you must
+understand that your safety depends upon your remaining in this house,
+and in keeping apart from all association with--your husband."
+
+"You will find it difficult," she said, "to convince me of that."
+
+"On the contrary," he said, "I shall find it easy--too easy, believe me.
+You will remember my finding you at the wine-shop of Emil Sachs?"
+
+"Yes!"
+
+"You refused to tell me the object of your visit. It was foolish, for
+of course I was informed. You procured from Emil a small quantity of the
+powder prepared according to the recipe of Herr Estentrauzen, and for
+which we paid him ten thousand marks. It is the most silent, the most
+secret, the most swift poison yet discovered."
+
+"I got it for myself," she said coldly. "There have been times when I
+have felt that the possession of something of that sort was an absolute
+necessity."
+
+"I do not question you as to the reason for your getting it," he
+answered. "Very shortly afterwards you left your carriage in Pall Mall,
+and without even asking for your husband you called at his hotel--you
+stole up into his room."
+
+"I took some roses there and left them," she said "What of that?"
+
+"Only that you were the last person seen to enter Mr. Sabin's rooms
+before Duson was found there dead. And Duson died from a dose of that
+same poison, a packet of which you procured secretly from Emil Sachs. An
+empty wineglass was by his side--it was one generally used by Mr. Sabin.
+I know that the English police, who are not so foolish as people would
+have one believe, are searching now for the woman who was seen to enter
+the sitting-room shortly before Mr. Sabin returned and found Duson there
+dead."
+
+She laughed scornfully.
+
+"It is ingenious," she admitted, "and perhaps a little unfortunate for
+me. But the inference is ridiculous. What interest had I in the man's
+death?"
+
+"None, of course!" the Prince said. "But, Lucille, in all cases of
+poisoning it is the wife of whom one first thinks!"
+
+"The wife? I did not even know that the creature had a wife."
+
+"Of course not! But Duson drank from Mr. Sabin's glass, and you are
+Mr. Sabin's wife. You are living apart from him. He is old and you are
+young. And for the other man--there is Reginald Brott. Your names have
+been coupled together, of course. See what an excellent case stands
+there. You procure the poison--secretly. You make your way to your
+husband's room--secretly. The fatal dose is taken from your husband's
+wineglass. You leave no note, no message. The poison of which the man
+died is exactly the same as you procured from Sachs. Lucille, after all,
+do you wonder that the police are looking for a woman in black with an
+ermine toque? What a mercy you wore a thick veil!"
+
+She sat down suddenly.
+
+"This is hideous," she said.
+
+"Think it over," he said, "step by step. It is wonderful how all the
+incidents dovetail into one another."
+
+"Too wonderful," she cried. "It sounds like some vile plot to
+incriminate me. How much had you to do with this, Prince?"
+
+"Don't be a fool!" he answered roughly. "Can't you see for yourself that
+your arrest would be the most terrible thing that could happen for us?
+Even Sachs might break down in cross-examination, and you--well, you
+are a woman, and you want to live. We should all be in the most deadly
+peril. Lucille, I would have spared you this anxiety if I could, but
+your defiance made it necessary. There was no other way of getting you
+away from England to-night except by telling you the truth."
+
+"Away from England to-night," she repeated vaguely. "But I will not go.
+It is impossible."
+
+"It is imperative," the Prince declared, with a sharp ring of authority
+in his tone. "It is your own folly, for which you have to pay. You went
+secretly to Emil Sachs. You paid surreptitious visits to your husband,
+which were simply madness. You have involved us all in danger. For our
+own sakes we must see that you are removed."
+
+"It is the very thing to excite suspicion--flight abroad," she objected.
+
+"Your flight," he said coolly, "will be looked upon from a different
+point of view, for Reginald Brott must follow you. It will be an
+elopement, not a flight from justice."
+
+"And in case I should decline?" Lucille asked quietly.
+
+The Prince shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"Well, we have done the best we can for ourselves," he said. "Come, I
+will be frank with you. There are great interests involved here, and,
+before all things, I have had to consider the welfare of our friends.
+That is my duty! Emil Sachs by this time is beyond risk of detection.
+He has left behind a letter, in which he confesses that he has for
+some time supplemented the profits of his wine-shop by selling secretly
+certain deadly poisons of his own concoctions. Alarmed at reading of the
+death of Duson immediately after he had sold a poison which the symptoms
+denoted he had fled the country. That letter is in the hands of the
+woman who remains in the wine-shop, and will only be used in case of
+necessity. By other means we have dissociated ourselves from Duson and
+all connection with him. I think I could go so far as to say that it
+would be impossible to implicate us. Our sole anxiety now, therefore, is
+to save you."
+
+Lucille rose to her feet.
+
+"I shall go at once to my husband," she said. "I shall tell him
+everything. I shall act on his advice."
+
+The Prince stood over by the door, and she heard the key turn.
+
+"You will do nothing of the sort," he said quietly. "You are in my power
+at last, Lucille. You will do my bidding, or--"
+
+"Or what?"
+
+"I shall myself send for the police and give you into custody!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXV
+
+The Prince crossed the hall and entered the morning-room. Felix was
+there and Raoul de Brouillac. The Duchess sat at her writing-table,
+scribbling a note. Lady Carey, in a wonderful white serge costume, and
+a huge bunch of Neapolitan violets at her bosom, was lounging in an
+easy-chair, swinging her foot backwards and forwards. The Duke, in a
+very old tweed coat, but immaculate as to linen and the details of
+his toilet, stood a little apart, with a frown upon his forehead, and
+exactly that absorbed air which in the House of Lords usually indicated
+his intention to make a speech. The entrance of the Prince, who
+carefully closed the door behind him, was an event for which evidently
+they were all waiting.
+
+"My good people," he said blandly, "I wish you all a very good-morning."
+
+There was a little murmur of greetings, and before they had all subsided
+the Duke spoke.
+
+"Saxe Leinitzer," he said, "I have a few questions to ask you."
+
+The Prince looked across the room at him.
+
+"By all means, Duke," he said. "But is the present an opportune time?"
+
+"Opportune or no, it is the time which I have selected," the Duke
+answered stiffly. "I do not altogether understand what is going on in
+this house. I am beginning to wonder whether I have been misled."
+
+The Prince, as he twirled his fair moustache, glanced carelessly enough
+across at the Duchess. She was looking the other way.
+
+"I became a--er--general member of this Society," the Duke continued,
+"sympathising heartily with its objects as explained to me by you,
+Prince, and believing, although to confess it is somewhat of a
+humiliation, that a certain amount of--er--combination amongst the
+aristocracy has become necessary to resist the terrible increase of
+Socialism which we must all so much deplore."
+
+"You are not making a speech, dear," the Duchess remarked, looking
+coldly across the room at him. "We are all anxious to hear what the
+Prince has to say to us."
+
+"Your anxiety," the Duke continued, "and the anxiety of our friends must
+be restrained for a few minutes, for there are certain things which I
+am determined to say, and to say them now. I must confess that it was
+at first a painful shock to me to realise that the time had come when it
+was necessary for us to take any heed of the uneducated rabble who seem
+born into the world discontented with their station in life, and instead
+of making honest attempts to improve it waste their time railing against
+us who are more fortunately placed, and in endeavours to mislead in
+every possible way the electorate of the country."
+
+The Prince sighed softly, and lit a cigarette. Lady Carey and Felix were
+already smoking.
+
+"However," the Duke continued, "I was convinced. I have always believed
+in the principle of watching closely the various signs of the times,
+and I may say that I came to the conclusion that a combination of the
+thinking members of the aristocratic party throughout the world was an
+excellent idea. I therefore became what is, I believe, called a general
+member of the Order, of which I believe you, Prince, are the actual
+head."
+
+"My dear James," the Duchess murmured, "the Prince has something to say
+to us."
+
+"The Prince," her husband answered coldly, "can keep back his
+information for a few minutes. I am determined to place my position
+clearly before all of you who are present here now. It is only since I
+have joined this Society that I have been made aware that in addition to
+the general members, of which body I believe that the Duchess and I are
+the sole representatives here, there are special members, and members of
+the inner circle. And I understand that in connection with these there
+is a great machinery of intrigue going on all the time, with branches
+all over the world, spies everywhere with unlimited funds, and with huge
+opportunities of good or evil. In effect I have become an outside member
+of what is nothing more nor less than a very powerful and, it seems to
+me, daring secret society."
+
+"So far as you are concerned, Duke," the Prince said, "your
+responsibility ceases with ordinary membership. You can take no count of
+anything beyond. The time may come when the inner circle may be opened
+to you."
+
+The Duke coughed.
+
+"You misapprehend me," he said. "I can assure you I am not anxious for
+promotion. On the contrary, I stand before you an aggrieved person. I
+have come to the conclusion that my house, and the shelter of my wife's
+name, have been used for a plot, the main points of which have been kept
+wholly secret from me."
+
+The Prince flicked his cigarette ash into the grate.
+
+"My dear Dorset," he said gently, "if you will allow me to explain--"
+
+"I thank you, Saxe Leinitzer," the Duke said coldly, "but it is
+beginning to occur to me that I have had enough of your explanations.
+It seemed natural enough to me, and I must say well conceived, that some
+attempt should be made to modify the views of, if not wholly convert,
+Reginald Brott by means of the influence of a very charming woman. It
+was my duty as a member of the Order to assist in this, and the shelter
+of my house and name were freely accorded to the Countess. But it is
+news to me to find that she was brought here practically by force.
+That because she was an inner member and therefore bound to implicit
+obedience that she was dragged away from her husband, kept apart from
+him against her will, forced into endeavours to make a fool of Brott
+even at the cost of her good name. And now, worst of all, I am told that
+a very deeply laid plot on the part of some of you will compel her
+to leave England almost at once, and that her safety depends upon her
+inducing Reginald Brott to accompany her."
+
+"She has appealed to you," the Prince muttered.
+
+"She has done nothing so sensible," the Duke answered drily. "The facts
+which I have just stated are known to every one in this room. I perhaps
+know less than any one. But I know enough for this. I request, Saxe
+Leinitzer, that you withdraw the name of myself and my wife from your
+list of members, and that you understand clearly that my house is to
+be no more used for meetings of the Society, formal or informal. And,
+further, though I regret the apparent inhospitality of my action, my
+finger is now, as you see, upon the bell, and I venture to wish you all
+a very good-morning. Groves," he added to the servant who answered the
+door, "the Prince of Saxe Leinitzer's carriage is urgently required."
+
+The Prince and Lady Carey descended the broad steps side by side. She
+was laughing softly but immoderately. The Prince was pale with fury.
+
+"Pompous old ass," he muttered savagely. "He may have a worse scandal in
+his house now than he dreams of."
+
+She wiped her eyes.
+
+"Have I not always told you," she said, "that intrigue in this country
+was a sheer impossibility? You may lay your plans ever so carefully, but
+you cannot foresee such a contretemps as this."
+
+"Idiot!" the Prince cried. "Oh, the dolt! Why, even his wife was
+amazed."
+
+"He may be all those pleasant things," Lady Carey, said, "but he is a
+gentleman."
+
+He stopped short. The footman was standing by the side of Lady Carey's
+victoria with a rug on his arm.
+
+"Lucille," he said thoughtfully, "is locked in the morning-room. She is
+prostrate with fear. If the Duke sees her everything is over. Upon
+my word, I have a good mind to throw this all up and cross to Paris
+to-night. Let England breed her own revolutions. What do you say,
+Muriel? Will you come with me?"
+
+She laughed scornfully.
+
+"I'd as soon go with my coachman," she said.
+
+His eyebrows narrowed. A dull, purple flush crept to his forehead.
+
+"Your wit," he said, "is a little coarse. Listen! You wish our first
+plan to go through?"
+
+"Of course!"
+
+"Then you must get Lucille out of that house. If she is left there she
+is absolutely lost to us. Apart from that, she is herself not safe.
+Our plan worked out too well. She is really in danger from this Duson
+affair."
+
+The laughter died away from Lady Carey's face. She hesitated with her
+foot upon the step of her carriage.
+
+"You can go back easily enough," the Prince said. "You are the Duke's
+cousin, and you were not included in his tirade. Lucille is in the
+morning-room, and here is the key. I brought it away with me. You must
+tell her that all our plans are broken, that we have certain knowledge
+that the police are on the track of this Duson affair. Get her to your
+house in Pont Street, and I will be round this afternoon. Or better
+still, take her to mine."
+
+Lady Carey stepped back on to the pavement. She was still, however,
+hesitating.
+
+"Leave her with the Duke and Duchess," the Prince said, "and she will
+dine with her husband to-night."
+
+Lady Carey took the key from his hand.
+
+"I will try," she said. "How shall you know whether I succeed?"
+
+"I will wait in the gardens," he answered. "I shall be out of sight, but
+I shall be able to see you come out. If you are alone I shall come
+to you. If she is with you I shall be at your house in an hour, and I
+promise you that she shall leave England to-night with me."
+
+"Poor Brott!" she murmured ironically.
+
+The Prince smiled.
+
+"He will follow her. Every one will believe that they left London
+together. That is all that is required."
+
+Lady Carey re-entered the house. The Prince made his way into the
+gardens. Ten minutes passed--a quarter of an hour. Then Lady Carey with
+Lucille reappeared, and stepping quickly into the victoria were driven
+away. The Prince drew a little sigh of relief. He looked at his watch,
+called a hansom, and drove to his club for lunch.
+
+Another man, who had also been watching Dorset House from the gardens
+for several hours, also noted Lucille's advent with relief. He followed
+the Prince out and entered another hansom.
+
+"Follow that victoria which has just driven off," he ordered. "Don't
+lose sight of it. Double fare."
+
+The trap-door fell, and the man whipped up his horse.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVI
+
+Mr. Sabin received an early visitor whilst still lingering over a slight
+but elegant breakfast. Passmore seated himself in an easy-chair and
+accepted the cigar which his host himself selected for him.
+
+"I am glad to see you," Mr. Sabin said. "This affair of Duson's remains
+a complete mystery to me. I am looking to you to help me solve it."
+
+The little man with the imperturbable face removed his cigar from his
+mouth and contemplated it steadfastly.
+
+"It is mysterious," he said. "There are circumstances in connection
+with it which even now puzzle me very much, very much indeed. There are
+circumstances in connection with it also which I fear may be a shock to
+you, sir."
+
+"My life," Mr. Sabin said, with a faint smile, "has been made up of
+shocks. A few more or less may not hurt me."
+
+"Duson," the detective said, "was at heart a faithful servant!"
+
+"I believe it," Mr. Sabin said.
+
+"He was much attached to you!"
+
+"I believe it."
+
+"It is possible that unwittingly he died for you."
+
+Mr. Sabin was silent. It was his way of avoiding a confession of
+surprise. And he was surprised. "You believe then," he said, after a
+moment's pause, "that the poison was intended for me?"
+
+"Certainly I do," the detective answered. "Duson was, after all, a
+valet, a person of little importance. There is no one to whom his
+removal could have been of sufficient importance to justify such extreme
+measures. With you it is different."
+
+Mr. Sabin knocked the ash from his cigarette.
+
+"Why not be frank with me, Mr. Passmore?" he said. "There is no need
+to shelter yourself under professional reticence. Your connection with
+Scotland Yard ended, I believe, some time ago. You are free to speak or
+to keep silence. Do one or the other. Tell me what you think, and I will
+tell you what I know. That surely will be a fair exchange. You shall
+have my facts for your surmises."
+
+Passmore's thin lips curled into a smile. "You know that I have left
+Scotland Yard then, sir?"
+
+"Quite well! You are employed by them often, I believe, but you are not
+on the staff, not since the affair of Nerman and the code book."
+
+If Passmore had been capable of reverence, his eyes looked it at that
+moment.
+
+"You knew this last night, sir?"
+
+"Certainly!"
+
+"Five years ago, sir," he said, "I told my chief that in you the
+detective police of the world had lost one who must have been their
+king. More and more you convince me of it. I cannot believe that you are
+ignorant of the salient points concerning Duson's death."
+
+"Treat me as being so, at any rate," Mr. Sabin said.
+
+"I am pardoned," Passmore said, "for speaking plainly of family
+matters--my concern in which is of course purely professional?"
+
+Mr. Sabin looked up for a moment, but he signified his assent.
+
+"You left America," Passmore said, "in search of your wife, formerly
+Countess of Radantz, who had left you unexpectedly."
+
+"It is true!" Mr. Sabin answered.
+
+"Madame la Duchesse on reaching London became the guest of the Duchess
+of Dorset, where she has been staying since. Whilst there she has
+received many visits from Mr. Reginald Brott."
+
+Mr. Sabin's face was as the face of a sphinx. He made no sign.
+
+"You do not waste your time, sir, over the Society papers. Yet you have
+probably heard that Madame la Duchesse and Mr. Reginald Brott have been
+written about and spoken about as intimate friends. They have been seen
+together everywhere. Gossip has been busy with their names. Mr. Brott
+has followed the Countess into circles which before her coming he
+zealously eschewed. The Countess is everywhere regarded as a widow, and
+a marriage has been confidently spoken of."
+
+Mr. Sabin bowed his head slightly. But of expression there was in his
+face no sign.
+
+"These things," Passmore continued, "are common knowledge. I have
+spoken up to now of nothing which is not known to the world. I proceed
+differently."
+
+"Good!" Mr. Sabin said.
+
+"There is," Passmore continued, "in the foreign district of London a
+man named Emil Sachs, who keeps a curious sort of a wine-shop, and
+supplements his earnings by disposing at a high figure of certain rare
+and deadly poisons. A few days ago the Countess visited him and secured
+a small packet of the most deadly drug the man possesses."
+
+Mr. Sabin sat quite still. He was unmoved.
+
+"The Countess," Passmore continued, "shortly afterwards visited these
+rooms. An hour after her departure Duson was dead. He died from drinking
+out of your liqueur glass, into which a few specks of that powder,
+invisible almost to the naked eye, had been dropped. At Dorset House
+Reginald Brott was waiting for her. He left shortly afterwards in a
+state of agitation."
+
+"And from these things," Mr. Sabin said, "you draw, I presume, the
+natural inference that Madame la Duchesse, desiring to marry her old
+admirer, Reginald Brott, first left me in America, and then, since I
+followed her here, attempted to poison me."
+
+"There is," Passmore said, "a good deal of evidence to that effect."
+
+"Here," Mr. Sabin said, handing him Duson's letter, "is some evidence to
+the contrary."
+
+Passmore read the letter carefully.
+
+"You believe this," he asked, "to be genuine?"
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled.
+
+"I am sure of it!" he answered.
+
+"You recognise the handwriting?"
+
+"Certainly!"
+
+"And this came into your possession--how?"
+
+"I found it on the table by Duson's side."
+
+"You intend to produce it at the inquest?"
+
+"I think not," Mr. Sabin answered.
+
+There was a short silence. Passmore was revolving a certain matter in
+his mind--thinking hard. Mr. Sabin was apparently trying to make rings
+of the blue smoke from his cigarette.
+
+"Has it occurred to you," Passmore asked, "to wonder for what reason
+your wife visited these rooms on the morning of Duson's death?"
+
+Mr. Sabin shook his head.
+
+"I cannot say that it has."
+
+"She knew that you were not here," Passmore continued. "She left no
+message. She came closely veiled and departed unrecognised." Mr. Sabin
+nodded.
+
+"There were reasons," he said, "for that. But when you say that she left
+no message you are mistaken."
+
+Passmore nodded.
+
+"Go on," he said.
+
+Mr. Sabin nodded towards a great vase of La France roses upon a side
+table.
+
+"I found these here on my return," he said, "and attached to them the
+card which I believe is still there. Go and look at it."
+
+Passmore rose and bent over the fragrant blossoms. The card still
+remained, and on the back of it, in a delicate feminine handwriting:
+
+                            "For my husband,
+                            "with love from
+                               "Lucille."
+
+
+Mr. Passmore shrugged his shoulders. He had not the vice of obstinacy,
+and he knew when to abandon a theory.
+
+"I am corrected," he said. "In any case, a mystery remains as well worth
+solving. Who are these people at whose instigation Duson was to have
+murdered you--these people whom Duson feared so much that suicide was
+his only alternative to obeying their behests?"
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled faintly.
+
+"Ah, my dear Passmore," he said, "you must not ask me that question.
+I can only answer you in this way. If you wish to make the biggest
+sensation which has ever been created in the criminal world, to render
+yourself immortal, and your fame imperishable--find out! I may not help
+you, I doubt whether you will find any to help you. But if you want
+excitement, the excitement of a dangerous chase after a tremendous
+quarry, take your life in your hands, go in and win."
+
+Passmore's withered little face lit up with a gleam of rare excitement.
+
+"These are your enemies, sir," he said. "They have attempted your life
+once, they may do it again. Assume the offensive yourself. Give me a
+hint."
+
+Mr. Sabin shook his head.
+
+"That I cannot do," he said. "I have saved you from wasting your time on
+a false scent. I have given you something definite to work upon. Further
+than that I can do nothing."
+
+Passmore looked his disappointment, but he knew Mr. Sabin better than to
+argue the matter.
+
+"You will not even produce that letter at the inquest?" he asked.
+
+"Not even that," Mr. Sabin answered.
+
+Passmore rose to his feet.
+
+"You must remember," he said, "that supposing any one else stumbles
+upon the same trail as I have been pursuing, and suspicion is afterwards
+directed towards madame, your not producing that letter at the inquest
+will make it useless as evidence in her favour."
+
+"I have considered all these things," Mr. Sabin said. "I shall deposit
+the letter in a safe place. But its use will never be necessary. You are
+the only man who might have forced me to produce it, and you know the
+truth."
+
+Passmore rose reluctantly.
+
+"I want you," Mr. Sabin said, "to leave me not only your address, but
+the means of finding you at any moment during the next four-and-twenty
+hours. I may have some important work for you."
+
+The man smiled as he tore leaf from his pocketbook and a made a few
+notes.
+
+"I shall be glad to take any commission from you, sir," he said. "To
+tell you the truth, I scarcely thought that you would be content to sit
+down and wait."
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled.
+
+"I think," he said, "that very shortly I can find you plenty to do."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVII
+
+Mr. Sabin a few minutes afterwards ordered his carriage, and was driven
+to Dorset House. He asked for Lucille, but was shown at once into the
+library, where the Duke was awaiting him. Then Mr. Sabin knew that
+something had happened.
+
+The Duke extended his hand solemnly.
+
+"My dear Souspennier," he said, "I am glad to see you. I was in fact on
+the point of despatching a messenger to your hotel."
+
+"I am glad," Mr. Sabin remarked, "that my visit is opportune. To tell
+you the truth, Duke, I am anxious to see my wife."
+
+The Duke coughed.
+
+"I trust," he said, "that you will not for a moment consider me guilty
+of any discourtesy to the Countess, for whom I have a great respect and
+liking. But it has come to my knowledge that the shelter of my roof and
+name were being given to proceedings of which I heartily disapproved.
+I therefore only a few hours ago formally broke off all connection
+with Saxe Leinitzer and his friends, and to put the matter plainly, I
+expelled them from the house."
+
+"I congratulate you heartily, Duke, upon a most sensible proceeding,"
+Mr. Sabin said. "But in the meantime where is my wife?"
+
+"Your wife was not present at the time," the Duke answered, "and I had
+not the slightest intention of including her in the remarks I made.
+Whether she understood this or not I cannot say, but I have since been
+given to understand that she left with them."
+
+"How long ago?" Mr. Sabin asked.
+
+"Several hours, I fear," the Duke answered. "I should like, Souspennier,
+to express to you my regrets that I was ever induced to become connected
+in any way with proceedings which must have caused you a great deal of
+pain. I beg you to accept my apologies."
+
+"I do not blame you, Duke," Mr. Sabin said. "My one desire now is to
+wrest my wife away from this gang. Can you tell me whether she left
+alone or with any of them?"
+
+"I will endeavour to ascertain," the Duke said, ringing the bell.
+
+But before the Duke's somewhat long-winded series of questions had gone
+very far Mr. Sabin grasped the fact that the servants had been tampered
+with. Without wasting any more time he took a somewhat hurried leave
+and drove back to the hotel. One of the hall porters approached him,
+smiling.
+
+"There is a lady waiting for you in your rooms, sir," he announced. "She
+arrived a few minutes ago."
+
+Mr. Sabin rang for the elevator, got out at his floor and walked down
+the corridor, leaning a little more heavily than usual upon his stick.
+If indeed it were Lucille who had braved all and come to him the way
+before them might still be smooth sailing. He would never let her go
+again. He was sure of that. They would leave England--yes, there was
+time still to catch the five o'clock train. He turned the handle of
+his door and entered. A familiar figure rose from the depths of his
+easy-chair. Her hat lay on the table, her jacket was open, one of his
+cigarettes was between her lips. But it was not Lucille.
+
+"Lady Carey!" he said slowly. "This is an unexpected pleasure. Have you
+brought Lucille with you?"
+
+"I am afraid," she answered, "that I have no ropes strong enough."
+
+"You insinuate," he remarked, "that Lucille would be unwilling to come."
+
+"There is no longer any need," she declared, with a hard little laugh,
+"for insinuations. We have all been turned out from Dorset House
+neck and crop. Lucille has accepted the inevitable. She has gone to
+Reginald's Brott's rooms."
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled.
+
+"Indeed. I have just come from Dorset House myself. The Duke has
+supplied me with a highly entertaining account of his sudden awakening.
+The situation must have been humorous."
+
+Her eyes twinkled.
+
+"It was really screamingly funny. The Duke had on his house of Lords
+manner, and we all sat round like a lot of naughty children. If only you
+had been there."
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled. Suddenly she laid her hand upon his arm.
+
+"Victor," she said, "I have come to prove that I am your friend. You do
+not believe that Lucille is with Reginald Brott. It is true! Not only
+that, but she is leaving England with him to-night. The man's devotion
+is irresistible--he has been gaining on her slowly but surely all the
+time."
+
+"I have noticed," Mr. Sabin remarked calmly, "that he has been
+wonderfully assiduous. I am sure I congratulate him upon his success, if
+he has succeeded."
+
+"You doubt my word of course," she said. "But I have not come here to
+tell you things. I have come to prove them. I presume that what you see
+with your own eyes will be sufficient."
+
+Mr. Sabin shook his head.
+
+"Certainly not," he answered. "I make it a rule to believe nothing that
+I see, and never to trust my ears."
+
+She stamped her foot lightly upon the floor.
+
+"How impossible you are," she exclaimed. "I can tell you by what train
+Lucille and Reginald Brott will leave London to-night. I can tell you
+why Lucille is bound to go."
+
+"Now," Mr. Sabin said, "you are beginning to get interesting."
+
+"Lucille must go--or run the risk of arrest for complicity in the murder
+of Duson."
+
+"Are you serious?" Mr. Sabin asked, with admirably assumed gravity.
+
+"Is it a jesting matter?" she answered fiercely. "Lucille bought poison,
+the same poison which it will be proved that Duson died of. She came
+here, she was the last person to enter your room before Duson was found
+dead. The police are even now searching for her. Escape is her only
+chance."
+
+"Dear me," Mr. Sabin said. "Then it is not only for Brott's sake that
+she is running away."
+
+"What does that matter? She is going, and she is going with him."
+
+"And why," he asked, "do you come to give me warning? I have plenty of
+time to interpose."
+
+"You can try if you will. Lucille is in hiding. She will not see you if
+you go to her. She is determined. Indeed, she has no choice. Lucille is
+a brave woman in many ways, but you know that she fears death. She is in
+a corner. She is forced to go."
+
+"Again," he said, "I feel that I must ask you why do you give me
+warning?"
+
+She came and stood close to him.
+
+"Perhaps," she said earnestly, "I am anxious to earn your gratitude.
+Perhaps, too, I know that no interposition of yours would be of any
+avail."
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled.
+
+"Still," he said, "I do not think that it is wise of you. I might appear
+at the station and forcibly prevent Lucille's departure. After all, she
+is my wife, you know."
+
+She shrugged her shoulders.
+
+"I am not afraid," she said. "You will make inquiries when I have gone,
+and you will find out that I have spoken the truth. If you keep Lucille
+in England you will expose her to a terrible risk. It is not like you to
+be selfish. You will yield to necessity."
+
+"Will you tell me where Lucille is now?" he asked.
+
+"For your own sake and hers, no," she answered. "You also are watched.
+Besides, it is too late. She was with Brott half an hour after the Duke
+turned us out of Dorset House. Don't you understand, Victor--won't you?
+It is too late."
+
+He sat down heavily in his easy-chair. His whole appearance was one of
+absolute dejection.
+
+"So I am to be left alone in my old age," he murmured. "You have your
+revenge now at last. You have come to take it."
+
+She sank on her knees by the side of his chair, and her arms fell upon
+his shoulders.
+
+"How can you think so cruelly of me, Victor," she murmured. "You were
+always a little mistaken in Lucille. She loved you, it is true, but all
+her life she has been fond of change and excitement. She came to Europe
+willingly--long before this Brott would have been her slave save for
+your reappearance. Can't you forget her--for a little while?"
+
+Mr. Sabin sat quite still. Her hair brushed his cheeks, her arms were
+about his neck, her whole attitude was an invitation for his embrace.
+But he sat like a figure of stone, neither repulsing nor encouraging
+her.
+
+"You need not be alone unless you like," she whispered.
+
+"I am an old man," he said slowly, "and this is a hard blow for me to
+bear. I must be sure, absolutely sure that she has gone."
+
+"By this time to-morrow," she murmured, "all the world will know it."
+
+"Come to me then," he said. "I shall need consolation."
+
+Her eyes were bright with triumph. She leaned over him and kissed him on
+the lips. Then she sprang lightly to her feet.
+
+"Wait here for me," she said, "and I will come to you. You shall know,
+Victor, that Lucille is not the only woman in the world who has cared
+for you."
+
+There was a tap at the door. Lady Carey was busy adjusting her hat.
+Passmore entered, and stood hesitating upon the threshold. Mr. Sabin had
+risen to his feet. He took one of her hands and raised it to his lips.
+She gave him a swift, wonderful look and passed out.
+
+Mr. Sabin's manner changed as though by magic. He was at once alert and
+vigorous.
+
+"My dear Passmore," he said, "come to the table. We shall want those
+Continental time-tables and the London A.B.C. You will have to take a
+journey to-night."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVIII
+
+The two women were alone in the morning-room of Lady Carey's house in
+Pont Street. Lucille was walking restlessly up and down twisting her
+handkerchief between her fingers. Lady Carey was watching her, more
+composed, to all outward appearance, but with closely compressed lips,
+and boding gleam in her eyes.
+
+"I think," Lady Carey said, "that you had better see him."
+
+Lucille turned almost fiercely upon her.
+
+"And why?"
+
+"Well, for one thing he will not understand your refusal. He may be
+suspicious."
+
+"What does it matter? I have finished with him. I have done all that I
+pledged myself to. What more can be expected of me? I do not wish to see
+him again."
+
+Lady Carey laughed.
+
+"At least," she said, "I think that the poor man has a right to
+receive his conge from you. You cannot break with him without a word of
+explanation. Perhaps--you may not find it so easy as it seems."
+
+Lucille swept around.
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+Lady Carey shrugged her shoulders.
+
+"You are in a curious mood, my dear Lucille. What I mean is obvious
+enough. Brott is a strong man and a determined man. I do not think that
+he will enjoy being made a fool of."
+
+Lucille was indifferent.
+
+"At any rate," she said, "I shall not see him. I have quite made up my
+mind about that."
+
+"And why not, Countess?" a deep voice asked from the threshold. "What
+have I done? May I not at least know my fault?"
+
+Lady Carey rose and moved towards the door.
+
+"You shall have it out between yourselves," she declared, looking up,
+and nodding at Brott as she passed. "Don't fight!"
+
+"Muriel!"
+
+The cry was imperative, but Lady Carey had gone. Mr. Brott closed the
+door behind him and confronted Lucille. A brilliant spot of colour
+flared in her pale cheeks.
+
+"But this is a trap!" she exclaimed. "Who sent for you? Why did you
+come?"
+
+He looked at her in surprise.
+
+"Lucille!"
+
+His eyes were full of passionate remonstrance. She looked nervously from
+him towards the door. He intercepted her glance.
+
+"What have I done?" he asked fiercely. "What have I failed to do? Why
+do you look as though I had forced myself upon you? Haven't I the right?
+Don't you wish to see me?"
+
+In Brott's face and tone was all the passionate strenuousness of a great
+crisis. Lucille felt suddenly helpless before the directness of his
+gaze, his storm of questions. In all their former intercourse it had
+been she who by virtue of her sex and his blind love for her had kept
+the upper hand. And now the position was changed. All sorts of feeble
+explanations, of appeals to him, occurred to her dimly, only to
+be rejected by reason of their ridiculous inadequacy. She was
+silent-abjectly silent.
+
+He came a little closer to her, and the strength of the man was manifest
+in his intense self-restraint. His words were measured, his tone quiet.
+Yet both somehow gave evidence of the smouldering fires beneath.
+
+"Lucille," he said, "I find you hard to understand to-day. You have
+made me your slave, you came once more into my life at its most critical
+moment, and for your sake I have betrayed a great trust. My conscience,
+my faith, and although that counts for little, my political career, were
+in the balance against my love for you. You know which conquered. At
+your bidding I have made myself the jest of every man who buys the
+halfpenny paper and calls himself a politician. My friends heap abuse
+upon me, my enemies derision. I cannot hold my position in this new
+Cabinet. I had gone too far for compromise. I wonder if you quite
+understand what has happened?"
+
+"Oh, I have heard too much," she cried. "Spare me the rest."
+
+He continued as though he had not heard her.
+
+"Men who have been my intimate associates for many years, and whose
+friendship was dear to me, cross the road to avoid: meeting me, day by
+day I am besieged with visitors and letters from the suffering people
+to whom my word had been pledged, imploring me for some explanation, for
+one word of denial. Life has become a hell for me, a pestilent, militant
+hell! Yet, Lucille, unless you break faith with me I make no complaint.
+I am content."
+
+"I am very sorry," she said. "I do not think that you have properly
+understood me. I have never made you any promise."
+
+For a moment he lost control of himself. She shrank back at the blaze
+of indignation, half scornful, half incredulous, which lit up his clear,
+grey eyes.
+
+"It is a lie!" he answered. "Between you and me it can be no question
+of words. You were always very careful of your pledges, but there are
+limits even to your caution--as to my forbearance. A woman does not ask
+a man who is pleading to her for her love to give up everything else
+he cares for in life without hope of reward. It is monstrous! I never
+sought you under false pretenses. I never asked you for your friendship.
+I wanted you. I told you so plainly. You won't deny that you gave me
+hope--encouraged me? You can't even deny that I am within my rights if I
+claim now at this instant the reward for my apostasy."
+
+Her hands were suddenly locked in his. She felt herself being drawn into
+his arms. With a desperate effort she avoided his embrace. He still held
+her left wrist, and his face was dark with passion.
+
+"Let me go!" she pleaded.
+
+"Not I!" he answered, with an odd, choked little laugh. "You belong to
+me. I have paid the price. I, too, am amongst the long list of those
+poor fools who have sold their gods and their honour for a woman's kiss.
+But I will not be left wholly destitute. You shall pay me for what I
+have lost."
+
+"Oh, you are mad!" she answered. "How could you have deceived yourself
+so? Don't you know that my husband is in London?"
+
+"The man who calls himself Mr. Sabin?" he answered roughly. "What has
+that to do with it? You are living apart. Saxe Leinitzer and the Duchess
+have both told me the history of your married life. Or is the whole
+thing a monstrous lie?" he cried, with a sudden dawning sense of the
+truth. "Nonsense! I won't believe it. Lucille! You're not afraid! I
+shall be good to you. You don't doubt that. Sabin will divorce you of
+course. You won't lose your friends. I--"
+
+There was a sudden loud tapping at the door. Brott dropped her wrist
+and turned round with an exclamation of anger. To Lucille it was a
+Heaven-sent interposition. The Prince entered, pale, and with signs of
+hurry and disorder about his usually immaculate person.
+
+"You are both here," he exclaimed. "Good! Lucille, I must speak with you
+urgently in five minutes. Brott, come this way with me."
+
+Lucille sank into a chair with a little murmur of relief. The Prince led
+Brott into another room, and closed the door carefully behind him.
+
+"Mr. Brott," he said, "can I speak to you as a friend of Lucille's?"
+
+Brott, who distrusted the Prince, looked him steadily in the face. Saxe
+Leinitzer's agitation was too apparent to be wholly assumed. He had all
+the appearance of being a man desperately in earnest.
+
+"I have always considered myself one," Brott answered. "I am
+beginning to doubt, however, whether the Countess holds me in the same
+estimation."
+
+"You found her hysterical, unreasonable, overwrought!" the Prince
+exclaimed. "That is so, eh?"
+
+The Prince drew a long breath.
+
+"Brott," he said, "I am forced to confide in you. Lucille is in terrible
+danger. I am not sure that there is anybody who can effectually help
+her but you. Are you prepared to make a great sacrifice for her sake--to
+leave England at once, to take her to the uttermost part of the world?"
+
+Brott's eyes were suddenly bright. The Prince quailed before the
+fierceness of his gaze.
+
+"She would not go!" he exclaimed sharply.
+
+"She will," the Prince answered. "She must! Not only that, but you will
+earn her eternal gratitude. Listen, I must tell you the predicament in
+which we find ourselves. It places Lucille's life in your hands."
+
+"What?"
+
+The exclamation came like a pistol shot. The Prince held up his hand.
+
+"Do not interrupt. Let me speak. Every moment is very valuable. You
+heard without doubt of the sudden death at the Carlton Hotel. It took
+place in Mr. Sabin's sitting-room. The victim was Mr. Sabin's servant.
+The inquest was this afternoon. The verdict was death from the effect
+of poison. The police are hot upon the case. There was no evidence as
+to the person by whom the poison was administered, but by a hideous
+combination of circumstances one person before many hours have passed
+will be under the surveillance of the police."
+
+"And that person?" Brott asked.
+
+The Prince looked round and lowered his voice, although the room was
+empty.
+
+"Lucille," he whispered hoarsely.
+
+Brott stepped backwards as though he were shot.
+
+"What damned folly!" he exclaimed.
+
+"It is possible that you may not think so directly," Saxe Leinitzer
+continued. "The day it happened Lucille bought this same poison, and it
+is a rare one, from a man who has absconded. An hour before this man was
+found dead, she called at the hotel, left no name, but went upstairs
+to Mr. Sabin's room, and was alone there for five minutes, The man died
+from a single grain of poison which had been introduced into Mr. Sabin's
+special liqueur glass, out of which he was accustomed to drink three or
+four times a day. All these are absolute facts, which at any moment may
+be discovered by the police. Added to that she is living apart from her
+husband, and is known to be on bad terms with him."
+
+Brott as gripping the back of a chair. He was white to the lips.
+
+"You don't think," he cried hoarsely. "You can't believe--"
+
+"No" the Prince answered quickly, "I don't believe anything of the sort.
+I will tell you as man to man that I believe she wished Mr. Sabin dead.
+You yourself should know why. But no, I don't believe she went so far
+as that. It was an accident. But what we have to do is to save her. Will
+you help?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"She must cross to the Continent to-night before the police get on the
+scent. Afterwards she must double back to Havre and take the Bordlaise
+for New York on Saturday. Once there I can guarantee her protection."
+
+"Well?"
+
+"She cannot go alone."
+
+"You mean that I should go with her?"
+
+"Yes! Get her right away, and I will employ special detectives and have
+the matter cleared up, if ever it can be. But if she remains here I
+fear that nothing can save her from the horror of an arrest, even if
+afterwards we are able to save her. You yourself risk much, Brott. The
+only question that remains is, will you do it?"
+
+"At her bidding--yes!" Brott declared.
+
+"Wait here," the Prince answered.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIX
+
+Saxe Leinitzer returned to the morning-room, and taking the key from his
+pocket unlocked the door. Inside Lucille was pale with fury.
+
+"What! I am a prisoner, then!" she exclaimed. "How dare you lock me
+in? This is not your house. Let me pass! I am tired of all this stupid
+espionage."
+
+The Prince stood with his back to the door.
+
+"It is for your own sake, Lucille. The house is watched."
+
+She sank into a low chair, trembling. The Prince had all the appearance
+of a man himself seriously disturbed.
+
+"Lucille," he said, "we will do what we can for you. The whole thing is
+horribly unfortunate. You must leave England to-night. Muriel will go
+with you. Her presence will help to divert suspicion. Once you can
+reach Paris I can assure you of safety. But in this country I am almost
+powerless."
+
+"I must see Victor," she said in a low tone. "I will not go without."
+
+The Prince nodded.
+
+"I have thought of that. There is no reason, Lucille, why he should not
+be the one to lead you into safety."
+
+"You mean that?" she cried.
+
+"I mean it," the Prince answered. "After what has happened you are of
+course of no further use to us. I am inclined to think, too, that we
+have been somewhat exacting. I will send a messenger to Souspennier to
+meet you at Charing Cross to-night."
+
+She sprang up.
+
+"Let me write it myself."
+
+"Very well," he agreed, with a shrug of the shoulders. "But do not
+address or sign it. There is danger in any communication between you."
+
+She took a sheet of note-paper and hastily wrote a few words.
+
+"I have need of your help. Will you be at Charing Cross at twelve
+o'clock prepared for a journey.--Lucille."
+
+The Prince took the letter from her and hastily folded it up.
+
+"I will deliver it myself," he announced. "It will perhaps be safest.
+Until I return, Lucille, do not stir from the house or see any one.
+Muriel has given the servants orders to admit no one. All your life," he
+added, after a moment's pause, "you have been a little cruel to me,
+and this time also. I shall pray that you will relent before our next
+meeting."
+
+She rose to her feet and looked him full in the face. She seemed to be
+following out her own train of thought rather than taking note of his
+words.
+
+"Even now," she said thoughtfully, "I am not sure that I can trust you.
+I have a good mind to fight or scream my way out of this house, and go
+myself to see Victor."
+
+He shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"The fighting or the screaming will not be necessary, dear Countess," he
+said. "The doors are open to you. But it is as clear as day that if
+you go to the hotel or near it you will at once be recognised, and
+recognition means arrest. There is a limit beyond which one cannot help
+a wilful woman. Take your life in your hands and go your own way, or
+trust in us who are doing our best to save you."
+
+"And what of Reginald Brott?" she asked.
+
+"Brott?" the Prince repeated impatiently. "Who cares what becomes of
+him? You have made him seem a fool, but, Lucille, to tell you the truth,
+I am sorry that we did not leave this country altogether alone. There
+is not the soil for intrigue here, or the possibility. Then, too, the
+police service is too stolid, too inaccessible. And even our friends,
+for whose aid we are here--well, you heard the Duke. The cast-iron Saxon
+idiocy of the man. The aristocracy here are what they call bucolic. It
+is their own fault. They have intermarried with parvenus and Americans
+for generations. They are a race by themselves. We others may shake
+ourselves free from them. I would work in any country of the globe for
+the good of our cause, but never again in England."
+
+Lucille shivered a little.
+
+"I am not in the humour for argument," she declared. "If you would earn
+my gratitude take that note to my husband. He is the only man I feel
+sure of--whom I know can protect me."
+
+The Prince bowed low.
+
+"It is our farewell, Countess," he said.
+
+"I cannot pretend," she answered, "to regret it."
+
+Saxe Leinitzer left the room. There was a peculiar smile upon his lips
+as he crossed the hall. Brott was still awaiting for him.
+
+"Mr. Brott," he said, "the Countess is, as I feared, too agitated to see
+you again for the present, or any one else. She sends you, however, this
+message."
+
+He took the folded paper from his waistcoat pocket and handed it to the
+other man. Brott read it through eagerly. His eyes shone.
+
+"She accepts the situation, then?" he exclaimed.
+
+"Precisely! Will you pardon me, my friend, if I venture upon one other
+word. Lucille is not an ordinary woman. She is not in the least like the
+majority of her sex, especially, I might add, amongst us. The fact that
+her husband was living would seriously influence her consideration of
+any other man--as her lover. The present crisis, however, has changed
+everything. I do not think that you will have cause to complain of her
+lack of gratitude."
+
+Brott walked out into the streets with the half sheet of note-paper
+twisted up between his fingers. For the first time for months he was
+conscious of a distinct and vivid sense of happiness. The terrible
+period of indecision was past. He knew now where he stood. Nor was
+his immediate departure from England altogether unpleasant to him. His
+political career was shattered--friends and enemies were alike cold to
+him. Such an act of cowardice as his, such pitiful shrinking back at the
+last fateful moment, was inexplicable and revolting. Even Letheringham
+was barely civil. It was certain that his place in the Cabinet would be
+intolerable. He yearned for escape from it all, and the means of escape
+were now at hand. In after years he knew very well that the shadow of
+his broken trust, the torture of his misused opportunities, would stand
+for ever between him and the light. But at that moment he was able
+to clear his mind of all such disquieting thoughts. He had won
+Lucille--never mind at what cost, at what peril! He had won Lucille!
+
+He was deeply engrossed, and his name was spoken twice in his ear before
+he turned round. A small, somewhat shabby-looking man, with tired eyes
+and more than a day's growth of beard upon his chin, had accosted him.
+
+"Mr. Brott, sir. A word with you, please."
+
+Brott held out his hand. Nevertheless his tone when he spoke lacked
+heartiness.
+
+"You, Hedley! Why, what brings you to London?"
+
+The little man did not seem to see the hand. At any rate he made no
+motion to take it.
+
+"A few minutes' chat with Mr. Brott. That's what I've come for."
+
+Brott raised his eyebrows, and nodded in somewhat constrained fashion.
+
+"Well," he said, "I am on my way to my rooms. We can talk as we go, if
+you like. I am afraid the good people up in your part of the world are
+not too well pleased with me."
+
+The little man smiled rather queerly.
+
+"That is quite true," he answered calmly. "They hate a liar and a
+turn-coat. So do I!"
+
+Brott stopped short upon the pavement.
+
+"If you are going to talk like that to me, Hedley," he said, "the less
+you have to say the better."
+
+The man nodded.
+
+"Very well," he said. "What I have to say won't take me very long. But
+as I've tramped most of the way up here to say it, you'll have to listen
+here or somewhere else. I thought you were always one who liked the
+truth."
+
+"So I do!" Brott answered. "Go on!"
+
+The man shuffled along by his side. They were an odd-looking pair, for
+Brott was rather a careful man as regards his toilet, and his companion
+looked little better than a tramp.
+
+"All my life," he continued, "I've been called 'Mad Hedley,' or 'Hedley,
+the mad tailor.' Sometimes one and sometimes the other. It don't matter
+which. There's truth in, it. I am a bit mad. You, Mr. Brott, were one
+of those who understood me a little. I have brooded a good deal perhaps,
+and things have got muddled up in my brain. You know what has been at
+the bottom of it all.
+
+"I began making speeches when I was a boy. People laughed at me, but
+I've set many a one a-thinking. I'm no anarchist, although people call
+me one. I'll admit that I admire the men who set the French Revolution
+going. If such a thing happened in this country I'd be one of the first
+to join in. But I've never had a taste for bloodshed. I'd rather the
+thing had been done without. From the first you seemed to be the man who
+might have brought it about. We listened to you, we watched your career,
+and we began to have hopes. Mr. Brott, the bodies and souls of millions
+of your fellow-creatures were in the hollow of your hand. It was you
+who might have set them free. It was you who might have made this the
+greatest, the freest, the happiest country in the world. Not so much for
+us perhaps as for our children, and our children's children. We didn't
+expect a huge social upheaval in a week, or even a decade of years. But
+we did expect to see the first blow struck. Oh, yes, we expected that."
+
+"I have disappointed you, I know, you and many others," Brott said
+bitterly. "I wish I could explain. But I can't!"
+
+"Oh, it doesn't matter," the man answered. "You have broken the hearts
+of thousands of suffering men and women--you who might have led them
+into the light, have forged another bolt in the bars which stand between
+them and liberty. So they must live on in the darkness, dull, dumb
+creatures with just spirit enough to spit and curse at the sound of your
+name. It was the greatest trust God ever placed in one man's hand--and
+you--you abused it. They were afraid of you--the aristocrats, and they
+bought you. Oh, we are not blind up there--there are newspapers in our
+public houses, and now and then one can afford a half-penny. We have
+read of you at their parties and their dances. Quite one of them you
+have become, haven't you? But, Mr. Brott, have you never been afraid?
+Have you never said to yourself, there is justice in the earth? Suppose
+it finds me out?"
+
+"Hedley, you are talking rubbish," Brott said. "Up here you would see
+things with different eyes. Letheringham is pledged."
+
+"If any man ever earned hell," Hedley continued, "it is you, Brott,
+you who came to us a deliverer, and turned out to be a lying prophet.
+'Hell,'" he repeated fiercely, "and may you find it swiftly."
+
+The man's right hand came out of his long pocket. They were in the thick
+of Piccadilly, but his action was too swift for any interference. Four
+reports rang suddenly out, and the muzzle of the revolver was held
+deliberately within an inch or so of Brett's heart. And before even
+the nearest of the bystanders could realise what had happened Brott lay
+across the pavement a dead man, and Hedley was calmly handing over the
+revolver to a policeman who had sprang across the street.
+
+"Be careful, officer," he said, "there are still two chambers loaded.
+I will come with you quite quietly. That is Mr. Reginald Brott, the
+Cabinet Minister, and I have killed him."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XL
+
+"For once," Lady Carey said, with a faint smile, "your 'admirable
+Crichton' has failed you."
+
+Lucille opened her eyes. She had been leaning back amongst the railway
+cushions.
+
+"I think not," she said. "Only I blame myself that I ever trusted the
+Prince even so far as to give him that message. For I know very well
+that if Victor had received it he would have been here."
+
+Lady Carey took up a great pile of papers and looked them carelessly
+through.
+
+"I am afraid," she said, "that I do not agree with you. I do not think
+that Saxe Leinitzer had any desire except to see you safely away. I
+believe that he will be quite as disappointed as you are that your
+husband is not here to aid you. Some one must see you safely on the
+steamer at Havre. Perhaps he will come himself."
+
+"I shall wait in Paris," Lucille said quietly, "for my husband."
+
+"You may wait," Lady Carey said, "for a very long time."
+
+Lucille looked at her steadily. "What do you mean?"
+
+"What a fool you are, Lucille. If to other people it seems almost
+certain on the face of it that you were responsible for that drop of
+poison in your husband's liqueur glass, why should it not seem so to
+himself?"
+
+Lucille laughed, but there was a look of horror in her dark eyes.
+
+"How absurd. I know Victor better than to believe him capable of such a
+suspicion. Just as he knows me better than to believe me capable of such
+an act."
+
+"Really. But you were in his rooms secretly just before."
+
+"I went to leave some roses for him," Lucille answered. "And if you
+would like to know it, I will tell you this. I left my card tied to them
+with a message for him."
+
+Lady Carey yawned.
+
+"A remarkably foolish thing to do," she said. "That may cause you
+trouble later on. Great heavens, what is this?"
+
+She held the evening paper open in her hand. Lucille leaned over with
+blanched face.
+
+"What has happened?" she cried. "Tell me, can't you!"
+
+"Reginald Brott has been shot in Piccadilly," Lady Carey said.
+
+"Is he hurt?" Lucille asked.
+
+"He is dead!"
+
+They read the brief announcement together. The deed had been committed
+by a man whose reputation for sanity had long been questioned, one of
+Brott's own constituents. He was in custody, and freely admitted his
+guilt. The two women looked at one another in horror. Even Lady Carey
+was affected.
+
+"What a hateful thing," she said. "I am glad that we had no hand in it."
+
+"Are you so sure that we hadn't?" Lucille asked bitterly. "You see what
+it says. The man killed him because of his political apostasy. We had
+something to do with that at least."
+
+Lady Carey was recovering her sang froid.
+
+"Oh, well," she said, "indirect influences scarcely count, or one might
+trace the causes of everything which happens back to an absurd extent.
+If this man was mad he might just as well have shot Brott for anything."
+
+Lucille made no answer. She leaned back and closed her eyes. She did not
+speak again till they reached Dover.
+
+They embarked in the drizzling rain. Lady Carey drew a little breath of
+relief as they reached their cabin, and felt the boat move beneath them.
+
+"Thank goodness that we are really off. I have been horribly nervous all
+the time. If they let you leave England they can have no suspicion as
+yet."
+
+Lucille was putting on an ulster and cap to go out on deck.
+
+"I am not at all sure," she said, "that I shall not return to England.
+At any rate, if Victor does not come to me in Paris I shall go to him."
+
+"What beautiful trust!" Lady Carey answered. "My dear Lucille, you are
+more like a school-girl than a woman of the world."
+
+
+A steward entered with a telegram for Lucille. It was banded in at the
+Haymarket, an hour before their departure. Lucille read it, and her face
+blanched. "I thank you for your invitation, but I fear that it would not
+be good for my health.--S."
+
+Lady Carey looked over her shoulder. She laughed hardly.
+
+"How brutal!" she murmured. "But, then, Victor can be brutal sometimes,
+can't he?"
+
+Lucille tore it into small pieces without a word. Lady Carey waited for
+a remark from her in vain.
+
+"I, too," she said at last, "have had some telegrams. I have been
+hesitating whether to show them to you or not. Perhaps you had better
+see them."
+
+She produced them and spread them out. The first was dated about the
+same time as the one Lucille had received.
+
+"Have seen S. with message from Lucille. Fear quite useless, as he
+believes worst."
+
+The second was a little longer.
+
+"Have just heard S. has left for Liverpool, and has engaged berth in
+Campania, sailing to-morrow. Break news to Lucille if you think well.
+Have wired him begging return, and promising full explanation."
+
+"If these," Lucille said calmly, "belonged to me I should treat them as
+I have my own."
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"I should tear them up."
+
+Lady Carey shrugged her shoulders with the air of one who finds further
+argument hopeless.
+
+"I shall have no more to say to you, Lucille, on this subject," she
+said. "You are impossible. In a few days you will be forced to come
+round to my point of view. I will wait till then. And in the meantime,
+if you think I am going to tramp up and down those sloppy decks and gaze
+at the sea you are very much mistaken. I am going to lie down like a
+civilized being, and try and get a nap. You had better do the same."
+
+Lucille laughed.
+
+"For my part," she said, "I find any part of the steamer except the deck
+intolerable. I am going now in search of some fresh air. Shall I send
+your woman along?"
+
+Lady Carey nodded, for just then the steamer gave a violent lurch, and
+she was not feeling talkative. Lucille went outside and walked up and
+down until the lights of Calais were in sight. All the time she felt
+conscious of the observation of a small man clad in a huge mackintosh,
+whose peaked cap completely obscured his features. As they were entering
+the harbour she purposely stood by his side. He held on to the rail with
+one hand and turned towards her.
+
+"It has been quite a rough passage, has it not?" he remarked.
+
+She nodded.
+
+"I have crossed," she said, "when it has been much worse. I do not mind
+so long as one may come on deck."
+
+"Your friend," he remarked, "is perhaps not so good a sailor?"
+
+"I believe," Lucille said, "that she suffers a great deal. I just looked
+in at her, and she was certainly uncomfortable."
+
+The little man gripped the rail and held on to his cap with the other
+hand.
+
+"You are going to Paris?" he asked.
+
+Lucille nodded.
+
+"Yes."
+
+They were in smoother water now. He was able to relax his grip of the
+rail. He turned towards Lucille, and she saw him for the first time
+distinctly--a thin, wizened-up little man, with shrewd kindly eyes, and
+a long deeply cut mouth.
+
+"I trust," he said, "that you will not think me impertinent, but it
+occurred to me that you have noticed some apparent interest of mine in
+your movements since you arrived on the boat."
+
+Lucille nodded.
+
+"It is true," she answered. "That is why I came and stood by your side.
+What do you want with me?"
+
+"Nothing, madam," he answered. "I am here altogether in your interests.
+If you should want help I shall be somewhere near you for the next few
+hours. Do not hesitate to appeal to me. My mission here is to be your
+protector should you need one."
+
+Lucille's eyes grew bright, and her heart beat quickly.
+
+"Tell me," she said, "who sent you?"
+
+He smiled.
+
+"I think that you know," he answered. "One who I can assure you will
+never allow you to suffer any harm. I have exceeded my instructions in
+speaking to you, but I fancied that you were looking worried. You need
+not. I can assure you that you need have no cause."
+
+Her eyes filled with tears.
+
+"I knew," she said, "that those telegrams were forgeries."
+
+He looked carefully around.
+
+"I know nothing about any telegrams," he said, "but I am here to see
+that no harm comes to you, and I promise you that it shall not. Your
+friend is looking out of the cabin door. I think we may congratulate
+ourselves, madam, on an excellent passage."
+
+Lady Carey disembarked, a complete wreck, leaning on the arm of her
+maid, and with a bottle of smelling salts clutched in her hand. She
+slept all the way in the train, and only woke up when they were nearing
+Paris. She looked at Lucille in astonishment.
+
+"Why, what on earth have you been doing to yourself?" she exclaimed.
+"You look disgustingly fit and well."
+
+Lucille laughed softly.
+
+"Why not? I have had a nap, and we are almost at Paris. I only want a
+bath and a change of clothes to feel perfectly fresh."
+
+But Lady Carey was suspicious.
+
+"Have you seen any one you know upon the train?" she asked.
+
+Lucille shook her head.
+
+"Not a soul. A little man whom I spoke to on the steamer brought me some
+coffee. That is all."
+
+Lady Carey yawned and shook out her skirts. "I suppose I'm getting old,"
+she said. "I couldn't look as you do with as much on my mind as you must
+have, and after traveling all night too."
+
+Lucille laughed.
+
+"After all," she said, "you know that I am a professional optimist, and
+I have faith in my luck. I have been thinking matters over calmly, and,
+to tell you the truth, I am not in the least alarmed."
+
+Lady Carey looked at her curiously.
+
+"Has the optimism been imbibed," she asked, "or is it spontaneous?"
+
+Lucille smiled.
+
+"Unless the little man in the plaid mackintosh poured it into the coffee
+with the milk," she said, "I could not possibly have imbibed it, for I
+haven't spoken to another soul since we left."
+
+"Paris! Here we are, thank goodness. Celeste can see the things through
+the customs. She is quite used to it. We are going to the Ritz, I
+suppose!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLI
+
+At eight o'clock in the evening Lucille knocked at the door of Lady
+Carey's suite of rooms at the hotel. There was no answer. A chambermaid
+who was near came smiling up.
+
+"Miladi has, I think, descended for dinner," she said.
+
+Lucille looked at her watch. She saw that she was a few minutes late, so
+she descended to the restaurant. The small table which they had reserved
+was, however, still unoccupied. Lucille told the waiter that she would
+wait for a few moments, and sent for an English newspaper.
+
+Lady Carey did not appear. A quarter of an hour passed. The head waiter
+came up with a benign smile.
+
+"Madam will please to be served?" he suggested, with a bow.
+
+"I am waiting for my friend Lady Carey," Lucille answered. "I understood
+that she had come down. Perhaps you will send and see if she is in the
+reading-room."
+
+"With much pleasure, madam," the man answered.
+
+In a few minutes he returned.
+
+"Madam's friend was the Lady Carey?" he asked.
+
+Lucille nodded.
+
+The man was gently troubled.
+
+"But, Miladi Carey," he said, "has left more than an hour ago."
+
+Lucille looked up, astonished.
+
+"Left the hotel?" she exclaimed.
+
+"But yes, madam," he exclaimed. "Miladi Carey left to catch the boat
+train at Calais for England."
+
+"It is impossible," Lucille answered. "We only arrived at midday."
+
+"I will inquire again," the man declared. "But it was in the office that
+they told me so."
+
+"They told you quite correctly," said a familiar voice. "I have come
+to take her place. Countess, I trust that in me you will recognise an
+efficient substitute."
+
+It was the Prince of Saxe Leinitzer who was calmly seating himself
+opposite to her. The waiter, with the discretion of his class, withdrew
+for a few paces and stood awaiting orders. Lucille looked across at him
+in amazement.
+
+"You here?" she exclaimed, "and Muriel gone? What does this mean?"
+
+The Prince leaned forward.
+
+"It means," he said, "that after you left I was in torment. I felt that
+you had no one with you who could be of assistance supposing the worst
+happened. Muriel is all very well, but she is a woman, and she has no
+diplomacy, no resource. I felt, Lucille, that I should not be happy
+unless I myself saw you into safety."
+
+"So you followed us here," Lucille remarked quietly.
+
+"Exactly! You do not blame me. It was for your sake--as well as my own."
+
+"And Muriel--why has she left me without farewell--without warning of
+any sort?"
+
+The Prince smiled and stroked his fair moustache.
+
+"Well," he said, "it is rather an awkward thing for me to explain, but
+to tell you the truth, Muriel was a little--more than a little--annoyed
+at my coming. She has no right to be, but--well, you know, she is what
+you call a monopolist. She and I have been friends for many years."
+
+"I understand perfectly what you have wished to convey," Lucille said.
+"But what I do not understand are the exact reasons which brought you
+here."
+
+The Prince took up the carte de jour.
+
+"As we dine," he said, "I will tell you. You will permit me to order?"
+
+Lucille rose to her feet.
+
+"For yourself, certainly," she answered. "As for me, I have accepted no
+invitation to dine with you, nor do I propose to do so."
+
+The Prince frowned.
+
+"Be reasonable, Lucille," he pleaded. "I must talk with you. There
+are important plans to be made. I have a great deal to say to you. Sit
+down."
+
+Lucille looked across at him with a curious smile upon her lips.
+
+"You have a good deal to say to me?" she remarked. "Yes, I will believe
+that. But of the truth how much, I wonder?"
+
+"By and bye," he said, "you will judge me differently. For hors
+d'oeuvres what do you say to oeufs de pluvier? Then--"
+
+"Pardon me," she interrupted, "I am not interested in your dinner!"
+
+"In our dinner," he ventured gently.
+
+"I am not dining with you," she declared firmly. "If you insist upon
+remaining here I shall have something served in my room. You know quite
+well that we are certain to be recognised. One would imagine that this
+was a deliberate attempt on your part to compromise me."
+
+"Lucille," he said, "do not be foolish! Why do you persist in treating
+me as though I were your persecutor?"
+
+"Because you are," she said coolly.
+
+"It is ridiculous," he declared. "You are in the most serious danger,
+and I have come only to save you. I can do it, and I will. But
+listen--not unless you change your demeanour towards me."
+
+She laughed scornfully. She had risen to her feet now, and he was
+perforce compelled to follow her example.
+
+"Is that a challenge?" she asked.
+
+"You may take it as such if you will," he answered, with a note of
+sullenness in his tone. "You know very well that I have but to lift my
+finger and the gendarmes will be here. Yes, we will call it a challenge.
+All my life I have wanted you. Now I think that my time has come. Even
+Souspennier has deserted you. You are alone, and let me tell you that
+danger is closer at your heels than you know of. I can save you, and I
+will. But I have a price, and it must be paid."
+
+"If I refuse?" she asked.
+
+"I send for the chief of the police."
+
+She looked him up and down, a measured, merciless survey. He was a tall,
+big man, but he seemed to shrink into insignificance.
+
+"You are a coward and a bully," she said slowly. "You know quite well
+that I am innocent of any knowledge even concerning Duson's death. But
+I would sooner meet my fate, whatever it might be, than suffer even the
+touch of your fingers upon my hand. Your presence is hateful to me. Send
+for your chief of the police. String your lies together as you will. I
+am satisfied."
+
+She left him and swept from the room, a spot of colour burning in her
+cheeks, her eyes lit with fire. The pride of her race had asserted
+itself. She felt no longer any fear. She only desired to sever herself
+at once and completely from all association with this man. In the hall
+she sent for her maid.
+
+"Fetch my cloak and jewel case, Celeste," she ordered. "I am going
+across to the Bristol. You can return for the other luggage."
+
+"But, madam--"
+
+"Do as I say at once," Lucille ordered.
+
+The girl hesitated and then obeyed. Lucille found herself suddenly
+addressed in a quiet tone by a man who had been sitting in an
+easy-chair, half hidden by a palm tree.
+
+"Will you favour me, madam, with a moment's conversation?"
+
+Lucille turned round. She recognised at once the man with whom she had
+conversed upon the steamer. In the quietest form of evening dress, there
+was something noticeable in the man's very insignificance. He seemed a
+little out of his element. Lucille had a sudden inspiration, The man was
+a detective.
+
+"What do you wish to say?" she asked, half doubtfully.
+
+"I overheard," he remarked, "your order to your maid. She had something
+to say to you, but you gave her no opportunity."
+
+"And you?" she asked, "what do you wish to say?"
+
+"I wish to advise you," he said, "not to leave the hotel."
+
+She looked at him doubtfully.
+
+"You cannot understand," she said, "why I wish to leave it. I have no
+alternative."
+
+"Nevertheless," he said, "I hope that you will change your mind."
+
+"Are you a detective?" she asked abruptly.
+
+"Madam is correct!"
+
+The flush of colour faded from her cheeks.
+
+"I presume, then," she said, "that I am under your surveillance?"
+
+"In a sense," he admitted, "it is true."
+
+"On the steamer," she remarked, "you spoke as though your interest in me
+was not inimical."
+
+"Nor is it," he answered promptly. "You are in a difficult position, but
+you may find things not so bad as you imagine. At present my advice to
+you is this: Go upstairs to your room and stay there."
+
+The little man had a compelling manner. Lucille made her way towards the
+elevator.
+
+"As a matter of fact," she murmured bitterly, "I am not, I suppose,
+permitted to leave the hotel?"
+
+"Madam puts the matter bluntly," he answered; "but certainly if you
+should insist upon leaving, it would be my duty to follow you."
+
+She turned away from him and entered the elevator. The door of her room
+was slightly ajar, and she saw that a waiter was busy at a small round
+table. She looked at him in surprise. He was arranging places for two.
+
+"Who gave you your orders?" she asked.
+
+"But it was monsieur," the man answered, with a low bow. "Dinner for
+two."
+
+"Monsieur?" she repeated. "What monsieur?"
+
+"I am the culprit," a familiar voice answered from the depths of an
+easy-chair, whose back was to her. "I was very hungry, and it occurred
+to me that under the circumstances you would probably not have dined
+either. I hope that you will like what I have ordered. The plovers' eggs
+look delicious."
+
+She gave a little cry of joy. It was Mr. Sabin.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLII
+
+The Prince dined carefully, but with less than his usual appetite.
+Afterwards he lit a cigarette and strolled for a moment into the lounge.
+Celeste, who was waiting for him, glided at once to his side.
+
+"Monsieur!" she whispered. "I have been here for one hour."
+
+He nodded.
+
+"Well?"
+
+"Monsieur le Duc has arrived."
+
+The Prince turned sharply round.
+
+"Who?"
+
+"Monsieur le Duc de Souspennier. He calls himself no longer Mr. Sabin."
+
+A dull flush of angry colour rose almost to his temples.
+
+"Why did you not tell me before?" he exclaimed.
+
+"Monsieur was in the restaurant," she answered. "It was impossible for
+me to do anything but wait."
+
+"Where is he?"
+
+"Alas! he is with madam," the girl answered.
+
+The Prince was very profane. He started at once for the elevator. In a
+moment or two he presented himself at Lucille's sitting-room. They were
+still lingering over their dinner. Mr. Sabin welcomed him with grave
+courtesy.
+
+"The Prince is in time to take his liqueur with us," he remarked,
+rising. "Will you take fin champagne, Prince, or Chartreuse? I recommend
+the fin champagne."
+
+The Prince bowed his thanks. He was white to the lips with the effort
+for self-mastery.
+
+"I congratulate you, Mr. Sabin," he said, "upon your opportune arrival.
+You will be able to help Lucille through the annoyance to which I deeply
+regret that she should be subjected."
+
+Mr. Sabin gently raised his eyebrows.
+
+"Annoyance!" he repeated. "I fear that I do not quite understand."
+
+The Prince smiled.
+
+"Surely Lucille has told you," he said, "of the perilous position in
+which she finds herself."
+
+"My wife," Mr. Sabin said, "has told me nothing. You alarm me."
+
+The Prince shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"I deeply regret to tell you," he said, "that the law has proved too
+powerful for me. I can no longer stand between her and what I fear may
+prove a most unpleasant episode. Lucille will be arrested within the
+hour."
+
+"Upon what charge?" Mr. Sabin asked.
+
+"The murder of Duson."
+
+Mr. Sabin laughed very softly, very gently, but with obvious
+genuineness.
+
+"You are joking, Prince," he exclaimed.
+
+"I regret to say," the Prince answered, "that you will find it very far
+from a joking matter."
+
+Mr. Sabin was suddenly stern.
+
+"Prince of Saxe Leinitzer," he said, "you are a coward and a bully."
+
+The Prince started forward with clenched fist. Mr. Sabin had no weapon,
+but he did not flinch.
+
+"You can frighten women," he said, "with a bogie such as this, but you
+have no longer a woman to deal with. You and I know that such a charge
+is absurd--but you little know the danger to which you expose yourself
+by trifling with this subject. Duson left a letter addressed to me in
+which he announced his reasons for committing suicide."
+
+"Suicide?"
+
+"Yes. He preferred suicide to murder, even at the bidding of the Prince
+of Saxe Leinitzer. He wrote and explained these things to me--and the
+letter is in safe hands. The arrest of Lucille, my dear Prince, would
+mean the ruin of your amiable society."
+
+"This letter," the Prince said slowly, "why was it not produced at the
+inquest? Where is it now?"
+
+"It is deposited in a sealed packet with the Earl of Deringham," Mr.
+Sabin answered. "As to producing it at the inquest--I thought it more
+discreet not to. I leave you to judge of my reasons. But I can assure
+you that your fears for my wife's safety have been wholly misplaced.
+There is not the slightest reason for her to hurry off to America. We
+may take a little trip there presently, but not just yet."
+
+The Prince made a mistake. He lost his temper.
+
+"You!" he cried, "you can go to America when you like, and stay there.
+Europe has had enough of you with your hare-brained schemes and foolish
+failures. But Lucille does not leave this country. We have need of her.
+I forbid her to leave. Do you hear? In the name of the Order I command
+her to remain here."
+
+Mr. Sabin was quite calm, but his face was full of terrible things.
+
+"Prince," he said, "if I by any chance numbered myself amongst your
+friends I would warn you that you yourself are a traitor to your Order.
+You prostitute a great cause when you stoop to use its machinery to
+assist your own private vengeance. I ask you for your own sake to
+consider your words. Lucille is mine--mine she will remain, even though
+you should descend to something more despicable, more cowardly than
+ordinary treason, to wrest her from me. You reproach me with the
+failures of my life. Great they may have been, but if you attempt this
+you will find that I am not yet an impotent person."
+
+The Prince was white with rage. The sight of Lucille standing by Mr.
+Sabin's side, her hand lightly resting upon his, her dark eyes full of
+inscrutable tenderness, maddened him. He was flouted and ignored. He was
+carried away by a storm of passion. He tore a sheet of paper from his
+pocket book, and unlocking a small gold case at the end of his watch
+chain, shook from it a pencil with yellow crayon. Mr. Sabin leaned over
+towards him.
+
+"You sign it at your peril, Prince," he said. "It will mean worse things
+than that for you."
+
+For a second he hesitated. Lucille also leaned towards him.
+
+"Prince," she said, "have I not kept my vows faithfully? Think! I came
+from America at a moment's notice; I left my husband without even a word
+of farewell; I entered upon a hateful task, and though to think of it
+now makes me loathe myself--I succeeded. I have kept my vows, I have
+done my duty. Be generous now, and let me go."
+
+The sound of her voice maddened him. A passionate, arbitrary man, to
+whom nothing in life had been denied, to be baulked in this great desire
+of his latter days was intolerable. He made no answer to either of them.
+He wrote a few lines with the yellow crayon and passed them silently
+across to Lucille.
+
+Her face blanched. She stretched out an unwilling hand. But Mr. Sabin
+intervened. He took the paper from the Prince's hand, and calmly tore it
+into fragments. There was a moment's breathless silence.
+
+"Victor!" Lucille cried. "Oh, what have you done!"
+
+The Prince's face lightened with an evil joy.
+
+"We now, I think," he said, "understand one another. You will permit me
+to wish you a very pleasant evening, and a speedy leave-taking."
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled.
+
+"Many thanks, my dear Prince," he said lightly. "Make haste and complete
+your charming little arrangements. Let me beg of you to avoid bungling
+this time. Remember that there is not in the whole of Europe to-day a
+man more dangerous to you than I."
+
+The Prince had departed. Mr. Sabin lit a cigarette and stood on the
+hearthrug. His eyes were bright with the joy of fighting.
+
+"Lucille," he said, "I see that you have not touched your liqueur.
+Oblige me by drinking it. You will find it excellent."
+
+She came over to him and hung upon his arm. He threw his cigarette away
+and kissed her upon the lips.
+
+"Victor," she murmured, "I am afraid. You have been rash!"
+
+"Dearest," he answered, "it is better to die fighting than to stand
+aside and watch evil things. But after all, there is no fear. Come! Your
+cloak and dressing case!"
+
+"You have plans?" she exclaimed, springing up.
+
+"Plans?" He laughed at her a little reproachfully. "My dear Lucille! A
+carriage awaits us outside, a special train with steam up at the Gard de
+L'ouest. This is precisely the contingency for which I have planned."
+
+"Oh, you are wonderful, Victor," she murmured as she drew on her coat.
+"But what corner of the earth is there where we should be safe?"
+
+"I am going," Mr. Sabin said, "to try and make every corner of the earth
+safe."
+
+She was bewildered, but he only laughed and held open the door for her.
+Mr. Sabin made no secret of his departure. He lingered for a moment in
+the doorway to light a cigarette, he even stopped to whisper a few
+words to the little man in plain dinner clothes who was lounging in the
+doorway. But when they had once left the hotel they drove fast.
+
+In less than half an hour Paris was behind them. They were traveling in
+a royal saloon and at a fabuulous cost, for in France they are not fond
+of special trains. But Mr. Sabin was very happy. At least he had escaped
+an ignominious defeat. It was left to him to play the great card.
+
+"And now," Lucille said, coming out from her little bed-chamber which
+the femme de chambre was busy preparing, "suppose you tell me where we
+are going."
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled.
+
+"Do not be alarmed," he said, "even though it will sound to you the
+least likely place in the world. We are going to Berlin."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIII
+
+The great room was dimly enough lit, for the windows looking out upon
+the street were high and heavily curtained, The man who sat at the desk
+was almost in the shadow. Yet every now and then a shaft of sunlight
+fell across his pale, worn face. A strange combination this of the
+worker, the idealist, the man of affairs. From outside came the hum of
+a great city. At times, too, there came to his ears as he sat here the
+roar of nations at strife, the fierce underneath battle of the great
+countries of the world struggling for supremacy. And here at this
+cabinet this man sat often, and listened, strenuous, romantic, with
+the heart of a lion and the lofty imagination of an eagle, he steered
+unswervingly on to her destiny a great people. Others might rest, but
+never he.
+
+He looked up from the letter spread out before him. Lucille was seated
+at his command, a few yards away. Mr. Sabin stood respectfully before
+him.
+
+"Monsieur le Duc," he said, "this letter, penned by my illustrious
+father to you, is sufficient to secure my good offices. In what manner
+can I serve you?"
+
+"Your Majesty," Mr. Sabin answered, "in the first place by receiving me
+here. In the second by allowing me to lay before you certain grave and
+very serious charges against the Order of the Yellow Crayon, of which
+your Majesty is the titular head."
+
+"The Order of the Yellow Crayon," the Emperor said thoughtfully,
+"is society composed of aristocrats pledged to resist the march of
+socialism. It is true that I am the titular head of this organisation.
+What have you to say about it?"
+
+"Only that your Majesty has been wholly deceived," Mr. Sabin said
+respectfully, "concerning the methods and the working of this society.
+Its inception and inauguration were above reproach. I myself at once
+became a member. My wife, Countess of Radantz, and sole representative
+of that ancient family, has been one all her life."
+
+The Emperor inclined his head towards Lucille.
+
+"I see no reason," he said, "when our capitals are riddled with secret
+societies, all banded together against us, why the great families of
+Europe should not in their turn come together and display a united front
+against this common enemy. The Order of the Yellow Crayon has had more
+than my support. It has had the sanction of my name. Tell me what you
+have against it."
+
+"I have grave things to say concerning it," Mr. Sahin answered, "and
+concerning those who have wilfully deceived your Majesty. The influences
+to be wielded by the society were mainly, I believe, wealth, education,
+and influence. There was no mention made of murder, of an underground
+alliance with the 'gamins' of Paris, the dregs of humanity, prisoners,
+men skilled in the art of secret death."
+
+The Emperor's tone was stern, almost harsh.
+
+"Duc de Souspennier, what are these things which you are saying?" he
+asked.
+
+"Your Majesty, I speak the truth," Mr. Sabin answered firmly. "There
+are in the Order of the Yellow Crayon three degrees of membership. The
+first, which alone your Majesty knows of, simply corresponds with
+what in England is known as the Primrose League. The second knows that
+beneath is another organisation pledged to frustrate the advance of
+socialism, if necessary by the use of their own weapons. The third,
+whose meetings and signs and whose whole organisation is carried on
+secretly, is allied in every capital in Europe with criminals and
+murderers. With its great wealth it has influence in America as well
+as in every city of the world where there are police to be suborned,
+or desperate men to be bought for tools. At the direction of this third
+order Lavinski died suddenly in the Hungarian House of Parliament,
+Herr Krettingen was involved in a duel, the result of which was assured
+beforehand, and Reginald Brott, the great English statesman, was ruined
+and disgraced. I myself have just narrowly escaped death at his hands,
+and in my place my servant has been driven to death. Of all these
+things, your Majesty, I have brought proofs."
+
+The Emperor's face was like a carven image, but his tone was cold and
+terrible.
+
+"If these things have been sanctioned," he said, "by those who are
+responsible for my having become the head of the Order; they shall feel
+my vengeance."
+
+"Your Majesty," Mr. Sabin said earnestly, "a chance disclosure, and all
+might come to light. I myself could blazon the story through Europe.
+Those who are responsible for the third degree of the Order of
+the Yellow Crayon, and for your Majesty's ignorance concerning its
+existence, have trifled with the destiny of the greatest sovereign of
+modern times."
+
+"The Prince of Saxe Leinitzer," the Emperor said, "is the acting head of
+the Order."
+
+"The Prince of Saxe Leinitzer," Mr. Sabin said firmly, "is responsible
+for the existence of the third degree. It is he who has connected the
+society with a system of corrupt police or desperate criminals in every
+great city. It is the Prince of Saxe Leinitzer, your Majesty, and
+his horde of murderers from whom I have come to seek your Majesty's
+protection. I have yet another charge to make against him. He has made,
+and is making still, use of the society to further his own private
+intrigues. In the name of the Order he brought my wife from America.
+She faithfully carried out the instructions of the Council. She brought
+about the ruin of Reginald Brott. By the rules of the society she was
+free then to return to her home. The Prince, who had been her suitor,
+declined to let her go. My life was attempted. The story of the Prince's
+treason is here, with the necessary proofs. I know that orders have been
+given to the hired murderers of the society for my assassination. My
+life even here is probably an uncertain thing. But I have told your
+Majesty the truth, and the papers which I have brought with me contain
+proof of my words."
+
+The Emperor struck a bell and gave a few orders to the young officer who
+immediately answered it. Then he turned again to Mr. Sabin.
+
+"I have summoned Saxe Leinitzer to Berlin," he said. "These matters
+shall be gone into most thoroughly. In the meantime what can I do for
+you?"
+
+"We will await the coming of the Prince," Mr. Sabin answered grimly.
+
+     *           *           *           *           *
+
+Lady Carey passed from her bath-room into a luxurious little
+dressing-room. Her letters and coffee were on a small table near the
+fire, an easy-chair was drawn up to the hearthrug. She fastened the
+girdle of her dressing-gown, and dismissed her maid.
+
+"I will ring for you in half an hour, Annette," she said. "See that I am
+not disturbed."
+
+On her way to the fireplace she paused for a moment in front of a tall
+looking-glass, and looked steadily at her own reflection.
+
+"I suppose," she murmured to herself, "that I am looking at my best now.
+I slept well last night, and a bath gives one colour, and white is so
+becoming. Still, I don't know why I failed. She may be a little better
+looking, but my figure is as good. I can talk better, I have learnt how
+to keep a man from feeling dull, and there is my reputation. Because I
+played at war correspondence, wore a man's clothes, and didn't shriek
+when I was under fire, people have chosen to make a heroine of me. That
+should have counted for something with him--and it didn't. I could
+have taken my choice of any man in London--and I wanted him. And I have
+failed!"
+
+She threw herself back in her easy-chair and laughed softly.
+
+"Failed! What an ugly word! He is old, and he limps, and I--well, I was
+never a very bashful person. He was beautifully polite, but he wouldn't
+have anything to say to me."
+
+She began to tear open her letters savagely.
+
+"Well, it is over. If ever anybody speaks to me about it I think that
+I shall kill them. That fool Saxe Leinitzer will stroke his beastly
+moustache, and smile at me out of the corners of his eyes. The Dorset
+woman, too--bah, I shall go away. What is it, Annette?"
+
+"His Highness the Prince of Saxe Leinitzer has called, milady."
+
+"Called! Does he regard this as a call?" she exclaimed, glancing towards
+the clock. "Tell him, Annette, that your mistress does not receive
+at such an hour. Be quick, child. Of course I know that he gave you a
+sovereign to persuade me that it was important, but I won't see him, so
+be off."
+
+"But yes, milady," Annette answered, and disappeared.
+
+Lady Carey sipped her coffee.
+
+"I think," she said reflectively, "that it must be Melton."
+
+Annette reappeared.
+
+"Milady," she exclaimed, "His Highness insisted upon my bringing you
+this card. He was so strange in his manner, milady, that I thought it
+best to obey."
+
+Lady Carey stretched out her hand. A few words were scribbled on the
+back of his visiting card in yellow crayon. She glanced at it, tore the
+card up, and threw the pieces into the fire.
+
+"My shoes and stockings, Annette," she said, "and just a morning
+wrap--anything will do."
+
+The Prince was walking restlessly up and down the room, when Lady Carey
+entered. He welcomed her with a little cry of relief.
+
+"Heavens!" he exclaimed. "I thought that you were never coming."
+
+"I was in no hurry," she answered calmly. "I could guess your news, so I
+had not even the spur of curiosity."
+
+He stopped short.
+
+"You have heard nothing! It is not possible?"
+
+She shrugged her shoulders.
+
+"No, but I know you, and I know him. I am quite prepared to hear that
+you are outwitted. Indeed, to judge from your appearance there can be no
+doubt about it. Remember I warned you."
+
+The Prince was pale with fury.
+
+"No one could foresee this," he exclaimed. "He has walked into the
+lion's den."
+
+"Then," Lady Carey said, "I am quite prepared to hear that he tamed the
+lion."
+
+"If there was one person living whom I could have sworn that this man
+dared not visit, it was our Emperor," the Prince said. "It is only a few
+years since, through this man's intrigues, Germany was shamed before the
+world."
+
+"And yet," Lady Carey said sweetly, "the Emperor has received him."
+
+"I have private intelligence from Berlin," Saxe Leinitzer answered.
+"Mr. Sabin was in possession of a letter written to him by the Emperor
+Frederick, thanking him for some service or other; and the letter was a
+talisman."
+
+"How like him," Lady Carey murmured, "to have the letter."
+
+"What a pity," the Prince sneered, "that such devotion should remain
+unrewarded."
+
+Lady Carey sighed.
+
+"He has broken my heart," she replied.
+
+The Prince threw out his hands.
+
+"You and I," he cried, "why do we behave like children! Let us start
+afresh. Listen! The Emperor has summoned me to Berlin."
+
+"Dear me," Lady Carey murmured. "I am afraid you will have a most
+unpleasant visit."
+
+"I dare not go," the Prince said slowly. "It was I who induced the
+Emperor to become the titular head of this cursed Order. Of course he
+knew nothing about the second or third degree members and our methods.
+Without doubt he is fully informed now. I dare not face him."
+
+"What shall you do?" Lady Carey asked curiously.
+
+"I am off to South America," he said. "It is a great undeveloped
+country, and there is room for us to move there. Muriel, you know what I
+want of you."
+
+"My good man," she answered, "I haven't the faintest idea."
+
+"You will come with me," he begged. "You will not send me into exile so
+lonely, a wanderer! Together there may be a great future before us. You
+have ambition, you love intrigue, excitement, danger. None of these can
+you find here. You shall come with me. You shall not say no. Have I not
+been your devoted slave? Have--"
+
+She stopped him. Her lips were parted in a smile of good-natured scorn.
+
+"Don't be absurd, Saxe Leinitzer. It is true that I love intrigue,
+excitement and danger. That is what made me join your Order, and really
+I have had quite a little excitement out of it, for which I suppose I
+ought to thank you. But as for the rest, why, you are talking rubbish.
+I would go to South America to-morrow with the right man, but with you,
+why, it won't bear talking about. It makes me angry to think that you
+should believe me capable of such shocking taste as to dream of going
+away with you."
+
+He flung himself from the room. Lady Carey went back to her coffee and
+letters. She sent for Annette.
+
+"Annette," she directed, "we shall go to Melton to-morrow. Wire Haggis
+to have the Lodge in order, and carriages to meet the midday train. I
+daresay I shall take a few people down with me. Let George go around
+to Tattershalls at once and make an appointment for me there at three
+o'clock this afternoon. Look out my habits and boots, too, Annette."
+
+Lady Carey leaned back in her chair for a moment with half-closed eyes.
+
+"I think," she murmured, "that some of us in our youth must have
+drunk from some poisoned cup, something which turned our blood into
+quicksilver. I must live, or I must die. I must have excitement every
+hour, every second, or break down. There are others too--many others.
+No wonder that that idiot of a man in Harley Street talked to me gravely
+about my heart. No excitement. A quiet life! Bah! Such wishy-washy
+coffee and only one cigarette."
+
+She lit it and stood up on the hearthrug. Her eyes were half closed,
+every vestige of colour had left her cheeks, her hand was pressed hard
+to her side. For a few minutes she seemed to struggle for breath. Then
+with a little lurch as though still giddy, she stooped, and picking up
+her fallen cigarette, thrust it defiantly between her teeth.
+
+"Not this way," she muttered. "From a horse's back if I can with the air
+rushing by, and the hot joy of it in one's heart... Only I hope it won't
+hurt the poor old gee... Come in, Annette. What a time you've been,
+child."
+
+******
+
+The Emperor sent for Mr. Sabin. He declined to recognise his incognito.
+
+"Monsieur le Duc," he said, "if proof of your story were needed it is
+here. The Prince of Saxe Leinitzer has ignored my summons. He has fled
+to South America."
+
+Mr. Sabin bowed.
+
+"A most interesting country," he murmured, "for the Prince."
+
+"You yourself are free to go when and where you will. You need no longer
+have any fears. The Order does not exist. I have crushed it."
+
+Mr. Sabin bowed.
+
+"Your Majesty," he said, "has shown exemplary wisdom."
+
+"From its inception," the Emperor said, "I believe that the idea was a
+mistaken one. I must confess that its originality pleased me; my calmer
+reflections, however, show me that I was wrong. It is not for the nobles
+of the earth to copy the methods of socialists and anarchists. These men
+are a pest upon humanity, but they may have their good uses. They may
+help us to govern alertly, vigorously, always with our eyes and ears
+strained to catch the signs of the changing times. Monsieur le Duc,
+should you decide to take up your residence in this country I shall at
+all times be glad to receive you. But your future is entirely your own."
+
+Mr. Sabin accepted his dismissal from audience, and went back to
+Lucille.
+
+"The Prince," he told her, "has gone--to South America. The Order does
+not exist any longer. Will you dine in Vienna, or in Frankfort?"
+
+She held out her arms.
+
+"You wonderful man!" she cried.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's The Yellow Crayon, by E. Phillips Oppenheim
+
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+    <title>
+      The Yellow Crayon, by E. Phillips Oppenheim
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+               text-align: right;}
+    pre        { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;}
+
+</style>
+  </head>
+  <body>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Yellow Crayon, by E. Phillips Oppenheim
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Yellow Crayon
+
+Author: E. Phillips Oppenheim
+
+Release Date: November 25, 2008 [EBook #1849]
+Last Updated: October 11, 2016
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE YELLOW CRAYON ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by An Anonymous Project Gutenberg Volunteer, and David Widger
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <h1>
+      THE YELLOW CRAYON
+    </h1>
+    <p>
+      <br />
+    </p>
+    <h2>
+      By E. Phillips Oppenheim
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+    <blockquote>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big>
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        <br />
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER XX </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER XXI </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER XXII </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0023"> CHAPTER XXIII </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0024"> CHAPTER XXIV </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0025"> CHAPTER XXV </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0026"> CHAPTER XXVI </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0027"> CHAPTER XXVII </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0028"> CHAPTER XXVIII </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0029"> CHAPTER XXIX </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0030"> CHAPTER XXX </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0031"> CHAPTER XXXI </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0032"> CHAPTER XXXII </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0033"> CHAPTER XXXIII </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0034"> CHAPTER XXXIV </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0035"> CHAPTER XXXV </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0036"> CHAPTER XXXVI </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0037"> CHAPTER XXXVII </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0038"> CHAPTER XXXVIII </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0039"> CHAPTER XXXIX </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0040"> CHAPTER XL </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0041"> CHAPTER XLI </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0042"> CHAPTER XLII </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0043"> CHAPTER XLIII </a>
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        <br />
+      </p>
+    </blockquote>
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br /> <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER I
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      It was late summer-time, and the perfume of flowers stole into the
+      darkened room through the half-opened window. The sunlight forced its way
+      through a chink in the blind, and stretched across the floor in strange
+      zigzag fashion. From without came the pleasant murmur of bees and many
+      lazier insects floating over the gorgeous flower beds, resting for a while
+      on the clematis which had made the piazza a blaze of purple splendour. And
+      inside, in a high-backed chair, there sat a man, his arms folded, his eyes
+      fixed steadily upon vacancy. As he sat then, so had he sat for a whole day
+      and a whole night. The faint sweet chorus of glad living things, which
+      alone broke the deep silence of the house, seemed neither to disturb nor
+      interest him. He sat there like a man turned to stone, his forehead riven
+      by one deep line, his straight firm mouth set close and hard. His servant,
+      the only living being who had approached him, had set food by his side,
+      which now and then he had mechanically taken. Changeless as a sphinx, he
+      had sat there in darkness and in light, whilst sunlight had changed to
+      moonlight, and the songs of the birds had given place to the low murmuring
+      of frogs from a lake below the lawns.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At last it seemed that his unnatural fit had passed away. He stretched out
+      his hand and struck a silver gong which had been left within his reach.
+      Almost immediately a man, pale-faced, with full dark eyes and olive
+      complexion, dressed in the sombre garb of an indoor servant, stood at his
+      elbow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Duson.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your Grace!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bring wine&mdash;Burgundy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It was before him, served with almost incredible despatch&mdash;a small
+      cobwebbed bottle and a glass of quaint shape, on which were beautifully
+      emblazoned a coronet and fleur-de-lis. He drank slowly and deliberately.
+      When he set the glass down it was empty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Duson!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your Grace!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will pack my things and your own. We shall leave for New York this
+      evening. Telegraph to the Holland House for rooms.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For how many days, your Grace?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We shall not return here. Pay off all the servants save two of the most
+      trustworthy, who will remain as caretakers.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man&rsquo;s face was as immovable as his master&rsquo;s.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And Madame?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madame will not be returning. She will have no further use for her maid.
+      See, however, that her clothes and all her personal belongings remain
+      absolutely undisturbed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Has your Grace any further orders?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Take pencil and paper. Send this cablegram. Are you ready?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man&rsquo;s head moved in respectful assent.
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;To Felix,
+       &ldquo;No 27, Rue de St.  Pierre,
+         &ldquo;Avenue de L&rsquo;Opera, Paris.
+    &ldquo;Meet me at Sherry&rsquo;s Restaurant, New York, one month to-day, eleven
+     p.m.&mdash;V.  S.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It shall be sent immediately, your Grace. The train for New York leaves
+      at seven-ten. A carriage will be here in one hour and five minutes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man moved towards the door. His master looked up.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Duson!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your Grace!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Duc de Souspennier remains here&mdash;or at the bottom of the lake&mdash;what
+      matters! It is Mr. Sabin who travels to New York, and for whom you engage
+      rooms at the Holland House. Mr. Sabin is a cosmopolitan of English
+      proclivities.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very good, sir!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lock this door. Bring my coat and hat five minutes before the carriage
+      starts. Let the servants be well paid. Let none of them attempt to see
+      me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man bowed and disappeared. Left to himself, Mr. Sabin rose from his
+      chair, and pushing open the windows, stood upon the verandah. He leaned
+      heavily upon his stick with both hands, holding it before him. Slowly his
+      eyes traveled over the landscape.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was a very beautiful home which he was leaving. Before him stretched
+      the gardens&mdash;Italian in design, brilliant with flowers, with here and
+      there a dark cedar-tree drooping low upon the lawn. A yew hedge bordered
+      the rose-garden, a fountain was playing in the middle of a lake. A wooden
+      fence encircled the grounds, and beyond was a smooth rolling park, with
+      little belts of pine plantations and a few larger trees here and there. In
+      the far distance the red flag was waving on one of the putting greens.
+      Archie Green was strolling up the hillside,&mdash;his pipe in his mouth,
+      and his driver under his arm. Mr. Sabin watched, and the lines in his face
+      grew deeper and deeper.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am an old man,&rdquo; he said softly, &ldquo;but I will live to see them suffer who
+      have done this evil thing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He turned slowly back into the room, and limping rather more than was
+      usual with him, he pushed aside a portiere and passed into a charmingly
+      furnished country drawing-room. Only the flowers hung dead in their vases;
+      everything else was fresh and sweet and dainty. Slowly he threaded his way
+      amongst the elegant Louis Quinze furniture, examining as though for the
+      first time the beautiful old tapestry, the Sevres china, the Chippendale
+      table, which was priceless, the exquisite portraits painted by Greuze, and
+      the mysterious green twilights and grey dawns of Corot. Everywhere
+      treasures of art, yet everywhere the restraining hand of the artist. The
+      faint smell of dead rose leaves hung about the room. Already one seemed
+      conscious of a certain emptiness as though the genius of the place had
+      gone. Mr. Sabin leaned heavily upon his stick, and his head drooped lower
+      and lower. A soft, respectful voice came to him from the other room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In five minutes, sir, the carriage will be at the door. I have your coat
+      and hat here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin looked up.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am quite ready, Duson!&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      The servants in the hall stood respectfully aside to let him pass. On the
+      way to the depot he saw nothing of those who saluted him. In the car he
+      sat with folded arms in the most retired seat, looking steadfastly out of
+      the window at the dying day. There were mountains away westwards, touched
+      with golden light; sometimes for long minutes together the train was
+      rushing through forests whose darkness was like that of a tunnel. Mr.
+      Sabin seemed indifferent to these changes. The coming of night did not
+      disturb him. His brain was at work, and the things which he saw were
+      hidden from other men.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Duson, with a murmur of apology, broke in upon his meditations.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will pardon me, sir, but the second dinner is now being served. The
+      restaurant car will be detached at the next stop.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What of it?&rdquo; Mr. Sabin asked calmly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have taken the liberty of ordering dinner for you, sir. It is thirty
+      hours since you ate anything save biscuits.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin rose to his feet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are quite right, Duson,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I will dine.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In half-an-hour he was back again. Duson placed before him silently a box
+      of cigarettes and matches. Mr. Sabin smoked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Soon the lights of the great city flared in the sky, the train stopped
+      more frequently, the express men and newspaper boys came into evidence.
+      Mr. Sabin awoke from his long spell of thought. He bought a newspaper, and
+      glanced through the list of steamers which had sailed during the week.
+      When the train glided into the depot he was on his feet and ready to leave
+      it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will reserve our rooms, Duson, for one month,&rdquo; he said on the way to
+      the hotel. &ldquo;We shall probably leave for Europe a month to-morrow.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very good, sir.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You were Mrs. Peterson&rsquo;s servant, Duson, before you were mine!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have been with her, I believe, for many years. You are doubtless much
+      attached to her!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Indeed I am, sir!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You may have surmised, Duson, that she has left me. I desire to ensure
+      your absolute fidelity, so I take you into my confidence to this extent.
+      Your mistress is in the hands of those who have some power over her. Her
+      absence is involuntary so far as she is concerned. It has been a great
+      blow to me. I am prepared to run all risks to discover her whereabouts. It
+      is late in my life for adventures, but it is very certain that adventures
+      and dangers are before us. In accompanying me you will associate yourself
+      with many risks. Therefore&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Duson held up his hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I beg, sir,&rdquo; he exclaimed, &ldquo;that you will not suggest for a moment my
+      leaving your service on that account. I beg most humbly, sir, that you
+      will not do me that injustice.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin paused. His eyes, like lightning, read the other&rsquo;s face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is settled then, Duson,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Kindly pay this cabman, and follow
+      me as quickly as possible.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin passed across the marble hall, leaning heavily upon his stick.
+      Yet for all his slow movements there was a new alertness in his eyes and
+      bearing. He was once more taking keen note of everybody and everything
+      about him. Only a few days ago she had been here.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He claimed his rooms at the office, and handed the keys to Duson, who by
+      this time had rejoined him. At the moment of turning away he addressed an
+      inquiry to the clerk behind the counter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Can you tell me if the Duchess of Souspennier is staying here?&rdquo; he
+      inquired.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The young man glanced up.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Been here, I guess. Left on Tuesday.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin turned away. He did not speak again until Duson and he were
+      alone in the sitting-room. Then he drew out a five dollar bill.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Duson,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;take this to the head luggage porter. Tell him to bring
+      his departure book up here at once, and there is another waiting for him.
+      You understand?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly, sir!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin turned to enter his bed-chamber. His attention was attracted,
+      however, by a letter lying flat upon the table. He took it up. It was
+      addressed to Mr. Sabin.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is very clever,&rdquo; he mused, hesitating for a moment before opening
+      it. &ldquo;I wired for rooms only a few hours ago&mdash;and I find a letter. It
+      is the commencement.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He tore open the envelope, and drew out a single half-sheet of note-paper.
+      Across it was scrawled a single sentence only.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go back to Lenox.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was no signature, nor any date. The only noticeable thing about this
+      brief communication was that it was written in yellow pencil of a peculiar
+      shade. Mr. Sabin&rsquo;s eyes glittered as he read.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The yellow crayon!&rdquo; he muttered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Duson knocked softly at the door. Mr. Sabin thrust the letter and envelope
+      into his breast coat pocket.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER II
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is the luggage porter, sir,&rdquo; Duson announced. &ldquo;He is prepared to
+      answer any questions.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man took out his book. Mr. Sabin, who was sitting in an easy-chair,
+      turned sideways towards him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Duchess of Souspennier was staying here last week,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;She
+      left, I believe, on Thursday or Friday. Can you tell me whether her
+      baggage went through your hands?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man set down his hat upon a vacant chair, and turned over the leaves
+      of his book.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Guess I can fix that for you,&rdquo; he remarked, running his forefinger down
+      one of the pages. &ldquo;Here we are. The Duchess left on Friday, and we checked
+      her baggage through to Lenox by the New York, New Haven &amp; Hartford.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;She would probably take a carriage to the station.
+      It will be worth another ten dollars to you if you can find me the man who
+      drove her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, we ought to manage that for you,&rdquo; the man remarked encouragingly.
+      &ldquo;It was one of Steve Hassell&rsquo;s carriages, I guess, unless the lady took a
+      hansom.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very good,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said. &ldquo;See if you can find him. Keep my inquiries
+      entirely to yourself. It will pay you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That&rsquo;s all right,&rdquo; the man remarked. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t you go to bed for
+      half-an-hour, and I guess you&rsquo;ll hear from me again.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Duson busied himself in the bed-chamber, Mr. Sabin sat motionless in his
+      easy chair. Soon there came a tap at the door. The porter reappeared
+      ushering in a smart-looking young man, who carried a shiny coachman&rsquo;s hat
+      in his hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Struck it right fust time,&rdquo; the porter remarked cheerfully. &ldquo;This is the
+      man, sir.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin turned his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You drove a lady from here to the New York, New Haven &amp; Hartford
+      Depot last Friday?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, not exactly, sir,&rdquo; the man answered. &ldquo;The Duchess took my cab, and
+      the first address she gave was the New York, New Haven &amp; Hartford
+      Depot, but before we&rsquo;d driven a hundred yards she pulled the check-string
+      and ordered me to go to the Waldorf. She paid me there, and went into the
+      hotel.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have not seen her since?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, sir!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You knew her by sight, you say. Was there anything special about her
+      appearance?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man hesitated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She&rsquo;d a pretty thick veil on, sir, but she raised it to pay me, and I
+      should say she&rsquo;d been crying. She was much paler, too, than last time I
+      drove her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When was that?&rdquo; Mr. Sabin asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In the spring, sir,&mdash;with you, begging your pardon. You were at the
+      Netherlands, and I drove you out several times.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You seem,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;to be a person with some powers of
+      observation. It would pay you very well indeed if you would ascertain from
+      any of your mates at the Waldorf when and with whom the lady in question
+      left that hotel.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll have a try, sir,&rdquo; the man answered. &ldquo;The Duchess was better known
+      here, but some of them may have recognised her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She had no luggage, I presume?&rdquo; Mr. Sabin asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Her dressing-case and jewel-case only, sir.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So you see,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin continued, &ldquo;it is probable that she did not remain
+      at the Waldorf for the night. Base your inquiries on that supposition.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very good, sir.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;From your manners and speech,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, raising his head, &ldquo;I
+      should take you to be an Englishman.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Quite correct, sir,&rdquo; the man answered. &ldquo;I drove a hansom in London for
+      eight years.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will understand me then,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin continued, &ldquo;when I say that I
+      have no great confidence in the police of this country. I do not wish to
+      be blackmailed or bullied. I would ask you, therefore, to make your
+      inquiries with discretion.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll be careful, sir,&rdquo; the man answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin handed to each of them a roll of notes. The cabdriver lingered
+      upon the threshold. Mr. Sabin looked up.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Could I speak a word to you&mdash;in private, sir?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin motioned Duson to leave the room. The baggage porter had already
+      departed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When I cleaned out my cab at night, sir, I found this. I didn&rsquo;t reckon it
+      was of any consequence at first, but from the questions you have been
+      asking it may be useful to you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin took the half-sheet of note-paper in silence. It was the
+      ordinary stationery of the Waldorf Astoria Hotel, and the following words
+      were written upon it in a faint delicate handwriting, but in yellow
+      pencil:&mdash;
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+                                                  &ldquo;Sept.  10th.
+  &ldquo;To LUCILLE, Duchesse de SOUSPENNIER.&mdash;
+  &ldquo;You will be at the Waldorf Astoria Hotel in the main corridor
+   at four o&rsquo;clock this afternoon.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      The thin paper shook in Mr. Sabin&rsquo;s fingers. There was no signature, but
+      he fancied that the handwriting was not wholly unfamiliar to him. He
+      looked slowly up towards the cabman.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am much obliged to you,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;This is of interest to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He stretched out his hand to the little wad of notes which Duson had left
+      upon the table, but the cabdriver backed away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Beg pardon, sir,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;You&rsquo;ve given me plenty. The letter&rsquo;s of no
+      value to me. I came very near tearing it up, but for the peculiar colour
+      pencil it&rsquo;s written with. Kinder took my fancy, sir.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The letter is of value,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said. &ldquo;It tells me much more than I
+      hoped to discover. It is our good fortune.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man accepted the little roll of bills and departed. Mr. Sabin touched
+      the bell.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Duson, what time is it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nearly midnight, sir!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will go to bed!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very good, sir!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mix me a sleeping draught, Duson. I need rest. See that I am not
+      disturbed until ten o&rsquo;clock to-morrow morning.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER III
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      At precisely ten o&rsquo;clock on the following morning Duson brought chocolate,
+      which he had prepared himself, and some dry toast to his master&rsquo;s bedside.
+      Upon the tray was a single letter. Mr. Sabin sat up in bed and tore open
+      the envelope. The following words were written upon a sheet of the Holland
+      House notepaper in the same peculiar coloured crayon.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The first warning addressed to you yesterday was a friendly one. Profit
+      by it. Go back to Lenox. You are only exposing yourself to danger and the
+      person you seek to discomfort. Wait there, and some one shall come to you
+      shortly who will explain what has happened, and the necessity for it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin smiled, a slow contemplative smile. He sipped his chocolate and
+      lit a cigarette.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Our friends, then,&rdquo; he said softly, &ldquo;do not care about pursuit and
+      inquiries. It is ridiculous to suppose that their warning is given out of
+      any consideration to me. Duson!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My bath. I shall rise now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin made his toilet with something of the same deliberation which
+      characterised all his movements. Then he descended into the hall, bought a
+      newspaper, and from a convenient easy-chair kept a close observation upon
+      every one who passed to and fro for about an hour. Later on he ordered a
+      carriage, and made several calls down town.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At a few minutes past twelve he entered the bar of the Fifth Avenue Hotel,
+      and ordering a drink sat down at one of the small tables. The room was
+      full, but Mr. Sabin&rsquo;s attention was directed solely to one group of men
+      who stood a short distance away before the counter drinking champagne. The
+      central person of the group was a big man, with an unusually large neck, a
+      fat pale face, a brown moustache tinged with grey, and a voice and laugh
+      like a fog-horn. It was he apparently who was paying for the champagne,
+      and he was clearly on intimate terms with all the party. Mr. Sabin watched
+      for his opportunity, and then rising from his seat touched him on the
+      shoulder.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Skinner, I believe?&rdquo; he said quietly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The big man looked down upon Mr. Sabin with the sullen offensiveness of
+      the professional bully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You&rsquo;ve hit it first time,&rdquo; he admitted. &ldquo;Who are you, anyway?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin produced a card.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I called this morning,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;upon the gentleman whose name you will
+      see there. He directed me to you, and told me to come here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man tore the card into small pieces.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So long, boys,&rdquo; he said, addressing his late companions. &ldquo;See you
+      to-night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They accepted his departure in silence, and one and all favoured Mr. Sabin
+      with a stare of blatant curiosity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I should be glad to speak with you,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;in a place where we
+      are likely to be neither disturbed nor overheard.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You come right across to my office,&rdquo; was the prompt reply. &ldquo;I guess we
+      can fix it up there.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin motioned to his coachman, and they crossed Broadway. His
+      companion led him into a tall building, talking noisily all the time about
+      the pals whom he had just left. An elevator transported them to the
+      twelfth floor in little more than as many seconds, and Mr. Skinner ushered
+      his visitor into a somewhat bare-looking office, smelling strongly of
+      stale tobacco smoke. Mr. Skinner at once lit a cigar, and seating himself
+      before his desk, folded his arms and leaned over towards Mr. Sabin.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Smoke one?&rdquo; he asked, pointing to the open box.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin declined.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Get right ahead then.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am an Englishman,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said slowly, &ldquo;and consequently am not
+      altogether at home with your ways over here. I have always understood,
+      however, that if you are in need of any special information such as we
+      should in England apply to the police for, over here there is a quicker
+      and more satisfactory method of procedure.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You&rsquo;ve come a long way round,&rdquo; Mr. Skinner remarked, spitting upon the
+      floor, &ldquo;but you&rsquo;re dead right.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am in need of some information,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin continued, &ldquo;and accordingly
+      I called this morning on Mr.&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Skinner held up his hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All right,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;We don&rsquo;t mention names more than we can help. Call
+      him the boss.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He assured me that the information I was in need of was easily to be
+      obtained, and gave me a card to you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go right on,&rdquo; Mr. Skinner said. &ldquo;What is it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;On Friday last,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;at four o&rsquo;clock, the Duchess of
+      Souspennier, whose picture I will presently show you, left the Holland
+      House Hotel for the New York, New Haven &amp; Hartford Depot, presumably
+      for her home at Lenox, to which place her baggage had already been
+      checked. On the way she ordered the cabman to set her down at the
+      Waldorf-Astoria Hotel, which he did at a few minutes past four. The
+      Duchess has not returned home or been directly heard from since. I wish to
+      ascertain her movements since she arrived at the Waldorf.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sounds dead easy,&rdquo; Mr. Skinner remarked reassuringly. &ldquo;Got the picture?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin touched the spring of a small gold locket which he drew from an
+      inside waistcoat pocket, and disclosed a beautifully painted miniature.
+      Mr. Skinner&rsquo;s thick lips were pursed into a whistle. He was on the point
+      of making a remark when he chanced to glance into Mr. Sabin&rsquo;s face. The
+      remark remained unspoken.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He drew a sheet of note-paper towards him and made a few notes upon it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Duchess many friends in New York?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At present none. The few people whom she knows here are at Newport or in
+      Europe just now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Any idea whom she went to the Waldorf to see? More we know the better.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin handed him the letter which had been picked up in the cab. Mr.
+      Skinner read it through, and spat once more upon the floor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What the h&mdash;-&rsquo;s this funny coloured pencil mean?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do not know,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered. &ldquo;You will see that the two anonymous
+      communications which I have received since arriving in New York yesterday
+      are written in the same manner.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin handed him the other two letters, which Mr. Skinner carefully
+      perused.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I guess you&rsquo;d better tell me who you are,&rdquo; he suggested.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am the husband of the Duchess of Souspennier,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Duchess send any word home at all?&rdquo; Mr. Skinner asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin produced a worn telegraph form. It was handed in at Fifth
+      Avenue, New York, at six o&rsquo;clock on Friday. It contained the single word
+      &lsquo;Good-bye.&rsquo; 
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;H&rsquo;m,&rdquo; Mr. Skinner remarked. &ldquo;We&rsquo;ll find all you want to know by to-morrow
+      sure.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you make of the two letters which I received?&rdquo; Mr. Sabin asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bunkum!&rdquo; Mr. Skinner replied confidently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin nodded his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have no secret societies over here, I suppose?&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Skinner laughed loudly and derisively.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I guess not,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;They keep that sort of rubbish on the other
+      side of the pond.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin was thoughtful for a moment. &ldquo;You expect to find, then,&rdquo; he
+      remarked, &ldquo;some other cause for my wife&rsquo;s disappearance?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There don&rsquo;t seem much room for doubt concerning that, sir,&rdquo; Mr. Skinner
+      said; &ldquo;but I never speculate. I will bring you the facts to-night between
+      eight and eleven. Now as to the business side of it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin was for a moment puzzled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What&rsquo;s the job worth to you?&rdquo; Mr. Skinner asked. &ldquo;I am willing to pay,&rdquo;
+       Mr. Sabin answered, &ldquo;according to your demands.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It&rsquo;s a simple case,&rdquo; Mr. Skinner admitted, &ldquo;but our man at the Waldorf is
+      expensive. If you get all your facts, I guess five hundred dollars will
+      about see you through.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will pay that,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will bring you the letters back to-night,&rdquo; Mr. Skinner said. &ldquo;I guess
+      I&rsquo;ll borrow that locket of yours, too.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That,&rdquo; he said firmly, &ldquo;I do not part with.&rdquo; Mr. Skinner scratched his
+      ear with his penholder. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s the only scrap of identifying matter we&rsquo;ve
+      got,&rdquo; he remarked. &ldquo;Of course it&rsquo;s a dead simple case, and we can probably
+      manage without it. But I guess it&rsquo;s as well to fix the thing right down.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you will give me a piece of paper,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;I will make you a
+      sketch of the Duchess. The larger the better. I can give you an idea of
+      the sort of clothes she would probably be wearing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Skinner furnished him with a double sheet of paper, and Mr. Sabin,
+      with set face and unflinching figures, reproduced in a few simple strokes
+      a wonderful likeness of the woman he loved. He pushed it away from him
+      when he had finished without remark. Mr. Skinner was loud in its praises.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I guess you&rsquo;re an artist, sir, for sure,&rdquo; he remarked. &ldquo;This&rsquo;ll fix the
+      thing. Shall I come to your hotel?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you please,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered. &ldquo;I shall be there for the rest of the
+      day.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Skinner took up his hat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Guess I&rsquo;ll take my dinner and get right to work,&rdquo; he remarked. &ldquo;Say, you
+      come along, Mr. Sabin. I&rsquo;ll take you where they&rsquo;ll fix you such a
+      beefsteak as you never tasted in your life.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I thank you very much,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;but I must beg to be excused. I
+      am expecting some despatches at my hotel. If you are successful this
+      afternoon you will perhaps do me the honour of dining with me to-night. I
+      will wait until eight-thirty.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The two men parted upon the pavement. Mr. Skinner, with his small bowler
+      hat on the back of his head, a fresh cigar in the corner of his mouth, and
+      his thumbs in the armholes of his waistcoat, strolled along Broadway with
+      something akin to a smile parting his lips, and showing his yellow teeth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Darned old fool,&rdquo; he muttered. &ldquo;To marry a slap-up handsome woman like
+      that, and then pretend not to know what it means when she bolts. Guess
+      I&rsquo;ll spoil his supper to-night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin, however, was recovering his spirits. He, too, was leaning back
+      in the corner of his carriage with a faint smile brightening his hard,
+      stern face. But, unlike Mr. Skinner, he did not talk to himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER IV
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      R. Sabin, who was never, for its own sake, fond of solitude, had ordered
+      dinner for two at eight-thirty in the general dining-room. At a few
+      minutes previous to that hour Mr. Skinner presented himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Skinner was not in the garb usually affected by men of the world who
+      are invited to dine out. The long day&rsquo;s exertion, too, had had its effect
+      upon his linen. His front, indeed, through a broad gap, confessed to a
+      foundation of blue, and one of his cuffs showed a marked inclination to
+      escape from his wrist over his knuckles. His face was flushed, and he
+      exhaled a strong odour of cigars and cocktails. Nevertheless, Mr. Sabin
+      was very glad to see him, and to receive the folded sheet of paper which
+      he at once produced.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have taken the liberty,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin remarked, on his part, &ldquo;of adding a
+      trifle to the amount we first spoke of, which I beg you will accept from
+      me as a mark of my gratitude for your promptness.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sure!&rdquo; Mr. Skinner answered tersely, receiving the little roll of bills
+      without hesitation, and retreating into a quiet corner, where he carefully
+      counted and examined every one. &ldquo;That&rsquo;s all right!&rdquo; he announced at the
+      conclusion of his task. &ldquo;Come and have one with me now before you read
+      your little billet-doux, eh?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shall not read your report until after dinner,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;and I
+      think if you are ready that we might as well go in. At the head-waiter&rsquo;s
+      suggestion I have ordered a cocktail with the oysters, and if we are much
+      later he seemed to fear that it might affect the condition of the&mdash;I
+      think it was terrapin, he said.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Skinner stopped short. His tone betrayed emotion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did you say terrapin, sir?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin nodded. Mr. Skinner at once took his arm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Guess we&rsquo;ll go right in,&rdquo; he declared. &ldquo;I hate to have a good meal
+      spoiled.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They were an old-looking couple. Mr. Sabin quietly but faultlessly attired
+      in the usual evening dinner garb, Mr. Skinner ill-dressed, untidy,
+      unwashed and frowsy. But here at least Mr. Sabin&rsquo;s incognito had been
+      unavailing, for he had stayed at the hotel several times&mdash;as he
+      remembered with an odd little pang&mdash;with Lucille, and the
+      head-waiter, with a low bow, ushered them to their table. Mr. Skinner saw
+      the preparations for their repast, the oysters, the cocktails in tall
+      glasses, the magnum of champagne in ice, and chuckled. To take supper with
+      a duke was a novelty to him, but he was not shy. He sat down and tucked
+      his serviette into his waistcoat, raised his glass, and suddenly set it
+      down again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The boss!&rdquo; he exclaimed in amazement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin turned his head in the direction which his companion had
+      indicated. Coming hastily across the room towards them, already out of
+      breath as though with much hurrying, was a thick-set, powerful man, with
+      the brutal face and coarse lips of a prizefighter; a beard cropped so
+      short as to seem the growth of a few days only covered his chin, and his
+      moustache, treated in the same way, was not thick enough to conceal a
+      cruel mouth. He was carefully enough dressed, and a great diamond flashed
+      from his tie. There was a red mark round his forehead where his hat had
+      been, and the perspiration was streaming from his forehead. He strode
+      without hesitation to the table where Mr. Sabin and his guest were
+      sitting, and without even a glance at the former turned upon his myrmidon.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where&rsquo;s that report?&rdquo; he cried roughly. &ldquo;Where is it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Skinner seemed to have shrunk into a smaller man. He pointed across
+      the table.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve given it to him,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;What&rsquo;s wrong, boss?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The newcomer raised his hand as though to strike Skinner. He gnashed his
+      teeth with the effort to control himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You damned blithering idiot,&rdquo; he said hoarsely, gripping the side of the
+      table. &ldquo;Why wasn&rsquo;t it presented to me first?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Guess it didn&rsquo;t seem worth while,&rdquo; Skinner answered. &ldquo;There&rsquo;s nothing in
+      the darned thing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You ignorant fool, hold your tongue,&rdquo; was the fierce reply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The newcomer sank into a chair and wiped the perspiration from his
+      streaming forehead. Mr. Sabin signaled to a waiter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You seem upset, Mr. Horser,&rdquo; he remarked politely. &ldquo;Allow me to offer you
+      a glass of wine.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Horser did not immediately reply, but he accepted the glass which the
+      waiter brought him, and after a moment&rsquo;s hesitation drained its contents.
+      Then he turned to Mr. Sabin.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You said nothing about those letters you had had when you came to see me
+      this morning!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was you yourself,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin reminded him, &ldquo;who begged me not to enter
+      into particulars. You sent me on to Mr. Skinner. I told him everything.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Horser leaned over the table. His eyes were bloodshot, his tone was
+      fierce and threatening. Mr. Sabin was coldly courteous. The difference
+      between the demeanour of the two men was remarkable.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You knew what those letters meant! This is a plot! Where is Skinner&rsquo;s
+      report?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin raised his eyebrows. He signaled to the head-waiter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Be so good as to continue the service of my dinner,&rdquo; he ordered. &ldquo;The
+      champagne is a trifle too chilled. You can take it out of the cooler.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man bowed, with a curious side glance at Horser.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly, your Grace!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Horser was almost speechless with anger.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you going to answer my questions?&rdquo; he demanded thickly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have no particular objection to doing so,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered, &ldquo;but
+      until you can sit up and compose yourself like an ordinary individual, I
+      decline to enter into any conversation with you at all.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Again Mr. Horser raised his voice, and the glare in his eyes was like the
+      glare of a wild beast.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you know who I am?&rdquo; he asked. &ldquo;Do you know who you&rsquo;re talking to?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin looked at him coolly, and fingered his wineglass.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve a shocking memory for names, but yours is&mdash;Mr.
+      Horser, isn&rsquo;t it? I heard it for the first time this morning, and my
+      memory will generally carry me through four-and-twenty hours.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a moment&rsquo;s silence. Horser was no fool. He accepted his defeat
+      and dropped the bully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You&rsquo;re a stranger in this city, Mr. Sabin, and I guess you aren&rsquo;t
+      altogether acquainted with our ways yet,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;But I want you to
+      understand this. The report which is in your pocket has got to be returned
+      to me. If I&rsquo;d known what I was meddling with I wouldn&rsquo;t have touched your
+      business for a hundred thousand dollars. It&rsquo;s got to be returned to me, I
+      say!&rdquo; he repeated in a more threatening tone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin helped himself to fish, and made a careful examination of the
+      sauce.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;After all,&rdquo; he said meditatively, &ldquo;I am not sure that I was wise in
+      insisting upon a sauce piquante. I beg your pardon, Mr. Horser. Please do
+      not think me inattentive, but I am very hungry. So, I believe, is my
+      friend, Mr. Skinner. Will you not join us&mdash;or perhaps you have
+      already dined?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was an ugly flush in Mr. Horser&rsquo;s cheeks, but he struggled to keep
+      his composure.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will you give me back that report?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When I have read it, with pleasure,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered. &ldquo;Before, no.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Horser swallowed an exceedingly vicious oath. He struck the table
+      lightly with his forefinger.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Look here,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;If you&rsquo;d lived in New York a couple of years, even
+      a couple of months, you wouldn&rsquo;t talk like that. I tell you that I hold
+      the government of this city in my right hand. I don&rsquo;t want to be
+      unpleasant, but if that paper is not in my hands by the time you leave
+      this table I shall have you arrested as you leave this room, and the
+      papers taken from you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dear me,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;this is serious. On what charge may I ask
+      should I be exposed to this inconvenience?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Charge be damned!&rdquo; Mr. Horser answered. &ldquo;The police don&rsquo;t want
+      particulars from me. When I say do a thing they do it. They know that if
+      they declined it would be their last day on the force.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin filled his glass and leaned back in his chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This,&rdquo; he remarked, &ldquo;is interesting. I am always glad to have the
+      opportunity of gaining an insight into the customs of different countries.
+      I had an idea that America was a country remarkable for the amount of
+      liberty enjoyed by its inhabitants. Your proposed course of action seems
+      scarcely in keeping with this.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What are you going to do? Come, I&rsquo;ve got to have an answer.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t quite understand,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin remarked, with a puzzled look, &ldquo;what
+      your official position is in connection with the police.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Horser&rsquo;s face was a very ugly sight. &ldquo;Oh, curse my official position,&rdquo;
+       he exclaimed thickly. &ldquo;If you want proof of what I say you shall have it
+      in less than five minutes. Skinner, be off and fetch a couple of
+      constables.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I really must protest,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said. &ldquo;Mr. Skinner is my guest, and I
+      will not have him treated in this fashion, just as the terrapin is coming
+      in, too. Sit down, Mr. Skinner, sit down. I will settle this matter with
+      you in my room, Mr. Horser, after I have dined. I will not even discuss it
+      before.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Horser opened his mouth twice, and closed it again. He knew that his
+      opponent was simply playing to gain time, but, after all, he held the
+      trump card. He could afford to wait. He turned to a waiter and ordered a
+      cigar. Mr. Sabin and Mr. Skinner continued their dinner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Conversation was a little difficult, though Mr. Sabin showed no signs of
+      an impaired appetite. Skinner was white with fear, and glanced every now
+      and then nervously at his chief. Mr. Horser smoked without ceasing, and
+      maintained an ominous silence. Mr. Sabin at last, with a sigh, rose, and
+      lighting a cigarette, took his stick from the waiter and prepared to
+      leave.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I fear, Mr. Horser,&rdquo; he remarked, &ldquo;that your presence has scarcely
+      contributed to the cheerfulness of our repast. Mr. Skinner, am I to be
+      favoured with your company also upstairs?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Horser clutched that gentleman&rsquo;s arm and whispered a few words in his ear.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Skinner,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;will join us presently. What is your number?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;336,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered. &ldquo;You will excuse my somewhat slow progress.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They crossed the hall and entered the elevator. Mr. Horser&rsquo;s face began to
+      clear. In a moment or two they would be in Mr. Sabin&rsquo;s sitting-room-alone.
+      He regarded with satisfaction the other&rsquo;s slim, delicate figure and the
+      limp with which he moved. He felt that the danger was already over.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER V
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      BUT, after all, things did not exactly turn out as Mr. Horser had
+      imagined. The sight of the empty room and the closed door were
+      satisfactory enough, and he did not hesitate for a moment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Look here, sir,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;you and I are going to settle this matter
+      quick. Whatever you paid Skinner you can have back again. But I&rsquo;m going to
+      have that report.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He took a quick step forward with uplifted hand&mdash;and looked into the
+      shining muzzle of a tiny revolver. Behind it Mr. Sabin&rsquo;s face, no longer
+      pleasant and courteous, had taken to itself some very grim lines.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am a weak man, Mr. Horser, but I am never without the means of
+      self-defence,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said in a still, cold tone. &ldquo;Be so good as to sit
+      down in that easy-chair.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Horser hesitated. For one moment he stood as though about to carry out
+      his first intention. He stood glaring at his opponent, his face contracted
+      into a snarl, his whole appearance hideous, almost bestial. Mr. Sabin
+      smiled upon him contemptuously&mdash;the maddening, compelling smile of
+      the born aristocrat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sit down!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Horser sat down, whereupon Mr. Sabin followed suit.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now what have you to say to me?&rdquo; Mr. Sabin asked quietly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I want that report,&rdquo; was the dogged answer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will not have it,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered. &ldquo;You can take that for
+      granted. You shall not take it from me by force, and I will see that you
+      do not charm it out of my pocket by other means. The information which it
+      contains is of the utmost possible importance to me. I have bought it and
+      paid for it, and I shall use it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Horser moistened his dry lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will give you,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;twenty thousand dollars for its return.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin laughed softly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You bid high,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I begin to suspect that our friends on the other
+      side of the water have been more than ordinarily kind to you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will give you&mdash;forty thousand dollars.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin raised his eyebrows.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So much? After all, that sounds more like fear than anything. You cannot
+      hope to make a profitable deal out of that. Dear me! It seems only a few
+      minutes ago that I heard your interesting friend, Mr. Skinner, shake with
+      laughter at the mention of such a thing as a secret society.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Skinner is a blasted fool,&rdquo; Horser exclaimed fiercely. &ldquo;Listen here, Mr.
+      Sabin. You can read that report if you must, but, as I&rsquo;m a living man
+      you&rsquo;ll not stir from New York if you do. I&rsquo;ll make your life a hell for
+      you. Don&rsquo;t you understand that no one but a born fool would dare to
+      quarrel with me in this city? I hold the prison keys, the police are mine.
+      I shall make my own charge, whatever I choose, and they shall prove it for
+      me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This sounds very shocking,&rdquo; he remarked. &ldquo;I had no idea that the largest
+      city of the most enlightened country in the world was in such a sorry
+      plight.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, curse your sarcasm,&rdquo; Mr. Horser said. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m talking facts, and you&rsquo;ve
+      got to know them. Will you give up that report? You can find out all there
+      is in it for yourself. But I&rsquo;m going to give it you straight. If I don&rsquo;t
+      have that report back unread, you&rsquo;ll never leave New York.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin was genuinely amused.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My good fellow,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;you have made yourself a notorious person in
+      this country by dint of incessant bullying and bribing and corruption of
+      every sort. You may possess all the powers you claim. Your only mistake
+      seems to be that you are too thick-headed to know when you are
+      overmatched. I have been a diplomatist all my life,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said,
+      rising slowly to his feet, and with a sudden intent look upon his face,
+      &ldquo;and if I were to be outwitted by such a novice as you I should deserve to
+      end my days&mdash;in New York.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Horser rose also to his feet. A smile of triumph was on his lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;we&mdash; Come in! Come in!&rdquo; The door was thrown open.
+      Skinner and two policemen entered. Mr. Sabin leaned towards the wall, and
+      in a second the room was plunged in darkness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Turn on the lights!&rdquo; Skinner shouted. &ldquo;Seize him! He&rsquo;s in that corner.
+      Use your clubs!&rdquo; Horser bawled. &ldquo;Stand by the door one of you. Damnation,
+      where is that switch?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He found it with a shout of triumph. Lights flared out in the room. They
+      stared around into every corner. Mr. Sabin was not there. Then Horser saw
+      the door leading into the bed-chamber, and flung himself against it with a
+      hoarse cry of rage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Break it open!&rdquo; he cried to the policemen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They hammered upon it with their clubs. Mr. Sabin&rsquo;s quiet voice came to
+      them from the other side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pray do not disturb me, gentlemen,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I am reading.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Break it open, you damned fools!&rdquo; Horser cried. They battered at it
+      sturdily, but the door was a solid one. Suddenly they heard the key turn
+      in the lock. Mr. Sabin stood upon the threshold.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Gentlemen!&rdquo; he exclaimed. &ldquo;These are my private apartments. Why this
+      violence?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He held out the paper.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is mine,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;The information which it contains is bought and
+      paid for. But if the giving it up will procure me the privilege of your
+      departure, pray take it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Horser was purple with rage. He pointed with shaking fist to the still,
+      calm figure.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Arrest him,&rdquo; he ordered. &ldquo;Take him to the cells.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin shrugged his shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am ready,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;but it is only fair to give you this warning. I am
+      the Duke of Souspennier, and I am well known in England and France. The
+      paper which you saw me hand to the porter in the hall as we stepped into
+      the elevator was a despatch in cipher to the English Ambassador at
+      Washington, claiming his protection. If you take me to prison to-night you
+      will have him to deal with to-morrow.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Horser bore himself in defeat better than at any time during the
+      encounter. He turned to the constables.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go down stairs and wait for me in the hall,&rdquo; he ordered. &ldquo;You too,
+      Skinner.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They left the room. Horser turned to Mr. Sabin, and the veins on his
+      forehead stood out like whipcord.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know when I&rsquo;m beaten,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Keep your report, and be damned to
+      you. But remember that you and I have a score to settle, and you can ask
+      those who know me how often Dick Horser comes out underneath in the long
+      run.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He followed the others. Mr. Sabin sat down in his easy-chair with a quiet
+      smile upon his lips. Once more he glanced through the brief report. Then
+      his eyes half closed, and he sat quite still&mdash;a tired, weary-looking
+      man, almost unnaturally pale.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They have kept their word,&rdquo; he said softly to himself, &ldquo;after many years.
+      After many years!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      Duson came in to undress him shortly afterwards. He saw signs of the
+      struggle, but made no comment. Mr. Sabin, after a moment&rsquo;s hesitation,
+      took a phial from his pocket and poured a few drops into a wineglassful of
+      water.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Duson,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;bring me some despatch forms and a pencil.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin wrote for several moments. Then he placed the forms in an
+      envelope, sealed it, and handed it to Duson.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Duson,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;that fellow Horser is annoyed with me. If I should be
+      arrested on any charge, or should fail to return to the hotel within
+      reasonable time, break that seal and send off the telegrams.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin yawned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I need sleep,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Do not call me to-morrow morning until I ring.
+      And, Duson!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Campania will sail from New York somewhere about the tenth of
+      October. I wish to secure the whole of stateroom number twenty-eight. Go
+      round to the office as soon as they open, secure that room if possible,
+      and pay a deposit. No other will do. Also one for yourself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very good, sir.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER VI
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here&rsquo;s a lady inquiring for you, sir&mdash;just gone up to your room in
+      the elevator,&rdquo; the hotel clerk remarked to Mr. Sabin as he paused on his
+      way to the door to hand in his key. &ldquo;Shall I send a boy up?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin hesitated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A lady?&rdquo; he remarked tentatively.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The hotel clerk nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. I didn&rsquo;t notice the name, but she was an Englishwoman. I&rsquo;ll send
+      up.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you, I will return,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said. &ldquo;If I should miss her on the
+      way perhaps you will kindly redirect her to my rooms.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He rang for the elevator, and was swiftly transported to his own floor.
+      The door of his sitting-room was open. Duson was talking to a tall fair
+      woman, who turned swiftly round at the sound of his approach.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, they found you, then!&rdquo; she exclaimed, coming towards him with
+      outstretched hands. &ldquo;Isn&rsquo;t this a strange place and a strange country for
+      us to meet once more in?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He greeted her gallantly, but with a certain reserve, of which she was at
+      once aware.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are there any countries in the world left which are strange to so great a
+      traveler as Lady Muriel Carey?&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;The papers here have been full
+      of your wonderful adventures in South Africa.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Everything shockingly exaggerated, of course,&rdquo; she declared. &ldquo;I have
+      really been plagued to death since I got here with interviewers, and that
+      sort of person. I wonder if you know how glad I am to see you again?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are very kind, indeed,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Certainly there was no one whom I
+      expected less to see over here. You have come for the yacht races, I
+      suppose?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She looked at him with a faint smile and raised eyebrows.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;shall we lie to one another? Is it worth while? Candour
+      is so much more original.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Candour by all means then, I beg,&rdquo; he answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have come over with the Dalkeiths, ostensibly to see the yacht races.
+      Really I have come to see you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin bowed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am delightfully flattered,&rdquo; he murmured.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t exactly mean for the pleasure of gazing into your face once
+      more,&rdquo; she continued. &ldquo;I have a mission!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin looked up quickly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Great heavens! You, too!&rdquo; he exclaimed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why not?&rdquo; she asked coolly. &ldquo;I have been in it for years, you know, and
+      when I got back from South Africa everything seemed so terribly slow that
+      I begged for some work to do.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And they sent you here&mdash;to me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; she answered, &ldquo;and I was here also a few weeks ago, but you must
+      not ask me anything about that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin&rsquo;s eyebrows contracted, his face darkened. She shrank a little
+      away from him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So it is you who have robbed me of her, then,&rdquo; he said slowly. &ldquo;Yes, the
+      description fits you well enough. I ask you, Lady Carey, to remember the
+      last time when chance brought you and me together. Have I deserved this
+      from you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She made a little gesture of impotence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do be reasonable!&rdquo; she begged. &ldquo;What choice had I?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He looked at her steadfastly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The folly of women&mdash;of clever women such as you,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;is
+      absolutely amazing. You have deliberately made a slave of yourself&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;One must have distraction,&rdquo; she murmured.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Distraction! And so you play at this sort of thing. Is it worth while?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her eyes for a moment clouded over with weariness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When one has filled the cup of life to the brim for many years,&rdquo; she
+      said, &ldquo;what remains that is worth while?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He bowed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are a young woman,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;You should not yet have learned to
+      speak with such bitterness. As for me&mdash;well, I am old indeed. In
+      youth and age the affections claim us. I am approaching my second
+      childhood.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She laughed derisively, yet not unkindly. &ldquo;What folly!&rdquo; she exclaimed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are right,&rdquo; he admitted. &ldquo;I suppose it is the fault of old
+      associations.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In a few minutes,&rdquo; she said, smiling at him, &ldquo;we should have become
+      sentimental.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I,&rdquo; he admitted, &ldquo;was floundering already.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She shrugged her shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You talk as though sentiment were a bog.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There have been worse similes,&rdquo; he declared.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How horrid! And do you know, sir, for all your indignation you have not
+      yet even inquired after your wife&rsquo;s health.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I trust,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;that she is well.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She is in excellent health.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your second visit to this country,&rdquo; he remarked, &ldquo;follows very swiftly
+      upon your first.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am here,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;on your account.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You excite my interest,&rdquo; he declared. &ldquo;May I know your mission?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have to remind you of your pledge,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;to assure you of
+      Lucille&rsquo;s welfare, and to prevent your leaving the country.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Marvelous!&rdquo; he exclaimed, with a slight mocking smile. &ldquo;And may I ask
+      what means you intend to employ to keep me here?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;I have large discretionary powers. We have a very
+      strong branch over on this side, but I would very much rather induce you
+      to stay here without applying to them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And the inducements?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She took a cigarette from a box which stood on the table and lit one.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;I might appeal to your hospitality, might I not? I am
+      in a strange country which you have made your home. I want to be shown
+      round. Do you remember dining with me one night at the Ambassador&rsquo;s? It
+      was very hot, even for Paris, and we drove afterwards in the Bois. Ask me
+      to dine with you here, won&rsquo;t you? I have never quite forgotten the last
+      time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin laughed softly, but with undisguised mirth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;this is an excellent start. You are to play the Circe up
+      to date, and I am to be beguiled. How ought I to answer you? I do remember
+      the Ambassador&rsquo;s, and I do remember driving down the Bois in your
+      victoria, and holding&mdash;I believe I am right&mdash;your hand. You have
+      no right to disturb those charming memories by attempting to turn them
+      into bathos.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She blew out a little cloud of tobacco smoke, and watched it thoughtfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; she remarked. &ldquo;I wonder who is better at that, you or I? I may not
+      be exactly a sentimental person, but you&mdash;you are a flint.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;On the contrary,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin assured her earnestly, &ldquo;I am very much in
+      love with my wife.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dear me!&rdquo; she exclaimed. &ldquo;You carry originality to quixoticism. I have
+      met several men before in my life whom I have suspected of such a thing,
+      but I never heard any one confess it. This little domestic contretemps is
+      then, I presume, disagreeable to you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To the last degree,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin asserted. &ldquo;So much so that I leave for
+      England by the Campania.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She shook her head slowly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wouldn&rsquo;t if I were you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why not?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey threw away the end of her cigarette, and looked for a moment
+      thoughtfully at her long white fingers glittering with rings. Then she
+      began to draw on her gloves.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, in the first place,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;Lucille will have no time to spare
+      for you. You will be de trop in decidedly an uncomfortable position. You
+      wouldn&rsquo;t find London at all a good place to live in just now, even if you
+      ever got there&mdash;which I am inclined to doubt. And secondly, here am I&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Circe!&rdquo; he murmured.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Waiting to be entertained, in a strange country, almost friendless. I
+      want to be shown everything, taken everywhere. And I am dying to see your
+      home at Lenox. I do not think your attitude towards me in the least
+      hospitable.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come, you are judging me very quickly,&rdquo; he declared. &ldquo;What opportunities
+      have I had?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What opportunities can there be if you sail by the Campania?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You might dine with me to-night at least.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Impossible! The Dalkeiths have a party to meet me. Come too, won&rsquo;t you?
+      They love dukes&mdash;even French ones.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is no attraction for me in a large party,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;I am
+      getting to an age when to make conversation in return for a dinner seems
+      scarcely a fair exchange.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;From your host&rsquo;s point of view, or yours?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;From both! Besides, one&rsquo;s digestion suffers.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are certainly getting old,&rdquo; she declared. &ldquo;Come, I must go. You
+      haven&rsquo;t been a bit nice to me. When shall I see you again?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is,&rdquo; he answered, &ldquo;for you to say.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She looked at him for a moment thoughtfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Supposing,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;that I cried off the yacht race to-day. Would you
+      take me out to lunch?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear lady,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;it is for Circe to command&mdash;and for me to
+      obey.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you&rsquo;ll come and have tea with me afterwards at the Waldorf?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin declared, &ldquo;will add still further to my happiness.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will you call for me, then&mdash;and where shall we have lunch, and at
+      what time? I must go and develop a headache at once, or that tiresome
+      Dalkeith boy will be pounding at my door.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will call for you at the Waldorf at half-past one,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said.
+      &ldquo;Unless you have any choice, I will take you to a little place downtown
+      where we can imagine ourselves back on the Continent, and where we shall
+      be spared the horror of green corn.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Delightful,&rdquo; she murmured, buttoning her glove. &ldquo;Then you shall take me
+      for a drive to Fifth Avenue, or to see somebody&rsquo;s tomb, and my woman shall
+      make some real Russian tea for us in my sitting-room. Really, I think I&rsquo;m
+      doing very well for the first day. Is the spell beginning to work?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hideously,&rdquo; he assured her. &ldquo;I feel already that the only thing I dread
+      in life are these two hours before luncheon.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is quite as it should be. Don&rsquo;t trouble to come down with me. I
+      believe that Dalkeith pere is hanging round somewhere, and in view of my
+      headache perhaps you had better remain in the background for the moment.
+      At one-thirty, then!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin smiled as she passed out of the room, and lit a cigarette.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think,&rdquo; he said to himself, &ldquo;that the arrival of Felix is opportune.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER VII
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      They sat together at a small table, looking upon a scene which was
+      probably unique in the history of the great restaurant. The younger man
+      was both frankly interested and undoubtedly curious. Mr. Sabin, though his
+      eyes seemed everywhere, retained to the full extent that nonchalance of
+      manner which all his life he had so assiduously cultivated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is wonderful, my dear Felix,&rdquo; he said, leisurely drawing his
+      cigarette-case from his pocket, &ldquo;wonderful what good fellowship can be
+      evolved by a kindred interest in sport, and a bottle or so of good
+      champagne. But, after all, this is not to be taken seriously.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shamrock the fourth! Shamrock the fourth!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A tall young American, his thick head of hair, which had once been
+      carefully parted in the middle, a little disheveled, his hard, clean-cut
+      face flushed with enthusiasm, had risen to his feet and stood with a
+      brimming glass of champagne high over his head. Almost every one in the
+      room rose to their feet. A college boy sprang upon a table with extended
+      arms. The Yale shout split the room. The very glasses on the table
+      rattled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Columbia! Columbia!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It was an Englishman now who had leaped upon a vacant table with upraised
+      glass. There was an answering roar of enthusiasm. Every one drank, and
+      every one sat down again with a pleasant thrill of excitement at this
+      unique scene. Felix leaned back in his chair and marveled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;One would have imagined,&rdquo; he murmured, &ldquo;that America and England together
+      were at war with the rest of the world and had won a great victory. To
+      think that this is all the result of a yacht race. It is incredible!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All your life, my dear Felix,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin remarked, &ldquo;you have underrated
+      the sporting instinct. It has a great place amongst the impulses of the
+      world. See how it has brought these people together.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But they are already of the same kin,&rdquo; Felix remarked. &ldquo;Their interests
+      and aims are alike. Their destinies are surely identical.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin, who had lit his cigarette, watched the blue smoke curl upwards,
+      and was thoughtful for a moment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear Felix!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;You are very, very young. The interests of two
+      great nations such as America and England can never be alike. It is the
+      language of diplomacy, but it is also the language of fools.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Their conversation was for the moment interrupted by a fresh murmur of
+      applause, rising above the loved hum of conversation, the laughter of
+      women, and the popping of corks. A little troop of waiters had just
+      wheeled into the room two magnificent models of yachts hewn out of blocks
+      of solid ice and crowned with flowers. On the one were the Stars and
+      Stripes, on the other the Shamrock and Thistle. There was much clapping of
+      hands and cheering. Lady Carey, who was sitting at the next table with her
+      back to them, joined in the applause so heartily that a tiny gold pencil
+      attached to her bracelet became detached and rolled unobserved to Mr.
+      Sabin&rsquo;s side. Felix half rose to pick it up, but was suddenly checked by a
+      quick gesture from his companion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Leave it,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin whispered. &ldquo;I wish to return it myself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He stooped and picked it up, a certain stealthiness apparent in his
+      movement. Felix watched him in amazement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is Lady Carey&rsquo;s, is it not?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. Be silent. I will give it back to her presently.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A waiter served them with coffee. Mr. Sabin was idly sketching something
+      on the back of his menu card. Felix broke into a little laugh as the man
+      retired.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mysterious as ever,&rdquo; he remarked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin smiled quietly. He went on with his sketch.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do not want,&rdquo; Felix said, &ldquo;to seem impatient, but you must remember
+      that I have come all the way from Europe in response to a very urgent
+      message. As yet I have done nothing except form a very uncomfortable third
+      at a luncheon and tea party, and listen to a good deal of enigmatic
+      conversation between you and the charming Lady Carey. This evening I made
+      sure that I should be enlightened. But no! You have given me a wonderful
+      dinner&mdash;from you I expected it. We have eaten terrapin, canvas-back
+      duck, and many other things the names of which alone were known to me. But
+      of the reason for which you have summoned me here&mdash;I know nothing.
+      Not one word have you spoken. I am beginning to fear from your avoidance
+      of the subject that there is some trouble between you and Lucille. I beg
+      that you will set my anxiety at rest.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is reasonable,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Look here!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He turned the menu card round. On the back he had sketched some sort of a
+      device with the pencil which he had picked up, and which instead of
+      black-lead contained a peculiar shade of yellow crayon. Felix sat as
+      though turned to stone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Try,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said smoothly, &ldquo;and avoid that air of tragedy. Some of
+      these good people might be curious.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Felix leaned across the table. He pointed to the menu card.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What does that mean?&rdquo; he muttered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin contemplated it himself thoughtfully. &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I rather
+      thought that you might be able to explain that to me. I have an idea that
+      there is a society in Europe&mdash;sort of aristocratic odd-fellows, you
+      know&mdash;who had adopted it for their crest. Am I not right?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Felix looked at him steadfastly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tell me two things,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;First, why you sent for me, and secondly,
+      what do you mean&mdash;by that?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lucille,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;has been taken away from me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lucille! Great God!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She has been taken away from me,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;without a single word
+      of warning.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Felix pointed to the menu card.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By them?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By them. It was a month ago. Two days before my cable.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Felix was silent for several moments. He had not the self-command of his
+      companion, and he feared to trust himself to speech.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She has been taken to Europe,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin continued. &ldquo;I do not know, I
+      cannot even guess at the reason. She left no word. I have been warned not
+      to follow her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You obey?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I sail to-morrow.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I?&rdquo; Felix asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin looked for, a moment at the drawing on the back of the menu
+      card, and up at Felix. Felix shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You must know,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;that I am powerless.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You may be able to help me,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;without compromising
+      yourself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Impossible!&rdquo; Felix declared. &ldquo;But what did they want with Lucille?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;is what I am desirous of knowing. It is what I
+      trust that you, my dear Felix, may assist me to discover.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are determined, then, to follow her?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin helped himself to a liqueur from the bottle by his side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear Felix,&rdquo; he said reproachfully, &ldquo;you should know me better than to
+      ask me such a question.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Felix moved uneasily in his chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;it depends upon how much they want to keep you
+      apart. But you know that you are running great risks?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, no,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said. &ldquo;I scarcely thought that. I have understood
+      that the society was by no means in its former flourishing condition.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Felix laughed scornfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They have never been,&rdquo; he answered, &ldquo;richer or more powerful. During the
+      last twelve months they have been active in every part of Europe.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin&rsquo;s face hardened.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;We will try their strength.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We!&rdquo; Felix laughed shortly. &ldquo;You forget that my hands are tied. I cannot
+      help you or Lucille. You must know that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You cannot interfere directly,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin admitted. &ldquo;Yet you are
+      Lucille&rsquo;s brother, and I am forced to appeal to you. If you will be my
+      companion for a little while I think I can show you how you can help
+      Lucille at any rate, and yet run no risk.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The little party at the next table were breaking up at last. Lady Carey,
+      pale and bored, with tired, swollen eyes&mdash;they were always a little
+      prominent&mdash;rose languidly and began to gather together her
+      belongings. As she did so she looked over the back of her chair and met
+      Mr. Sabin&rsquo;s eyes. He rose at once and bowed. She cast a quick sidelong
+      glance at her companions, which he at once understood.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have the honour, Lady Carey,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;of recalling myself to your
+      recollection. We met in Paris and London not so very many years ago. You
+      perhaps remember the cardinal&rsquo;s dinner?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A slight smile flickered upon her lips. The man&rsquo;s adroitness always
+      excited her admiration.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I remember it perfectly, and you, Duke,&rdquo; she answered. &ldquo;Have you made
+      your home on this side of the water?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin shook his head slowly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Home!&rdquo; he repeated. &ldquo;Ah, I was always a bird of passage, you remember.
+      Yet I have spent three very delightful years in this country.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I,&rdquo; she said, lowering her tone and leaning towards him, &ldquo;one very
+      stupid, idiotic day.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin assumed the look of a man who denies any personal responsibility
+      in an unfortunate happening.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was regrettable,&rdquo; he murmured, &ldquo;but I assure you that it was
+      unavoidable. Lucille&rsquo;s brother must have a certain claim upon me, and it
+      was his first day in America.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She was silent for a moment. Then she turned abruptly towards the door.
+      Her friends were already on the way.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come with me,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I want to speak to you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He followed her out into the lobby. Felix came a few paces behind. The
+      restaurant was still full of people, the hum of conversation almost
+      drowning the music. Every one glanced curiously at Lady Carey, who was a
+      famous woman. She carried herself with a certain insolent indifference,
+      the national deportment of her sex and rank. The women whispered together
+      that she was &ldquo;very English.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In the lobby she turned suddenly upon Mr. Sabin.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will you take me back to my hotel?&rdquo; she asked pointedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I regret that I cannot,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;I have promised to show Felix some
+      of the wonders of New York by night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You can take him to-morrow.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To-morrow,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;he leaves for the West.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She looked closely into his impassive face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I suppose that you are lying,&rdquo; she said shortly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your candour,&rdquo; he answered coldly, &ldquo;sometimes approaches brutality.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She leaned towards him, her face suddenly softened.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We are playing a foolish game with one another,&rdquo; she murmured. &ldquo;I offer
+      you an alliance, my friendship, perhaps my help.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What can I do,&rdquo; he answered gravely, &ldquo;save be grateful&mdash;and accept?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She stopped short. It was Mr. Sabin&rsquo;s luck which had intervened. Herbert
+      Daikeith stood at her elbow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lady Carey,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;they&rsquo;re all gone but the mater and I. Forgive my
+      interrupting you,&rdquo; he added hastily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You can go on, Herbert,&rdquo; she added. &ldquo;The Duc de Souspennier will bring
+      me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin, who had no intention of doing anything of the sort, turned
+      towards the young man with a smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lady Carey has not introduced us,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;but I have seen you at
+      Ranelagh quite often. If you are still keen on polo you should have a try
+      over here. I fancy you would find that these American youngsters can hold
+      their own. All right, Felix, I am ready now. Lady Carey, I shall do myself
+      the honour of waiting upon you early to-morrow morning, as I have a little
+      excursion to propose. Good-night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She shrugged her shoulders ever so slightly as she turned away. Mr. Sabin
+      smiled&mdash;faintly amused. He turned to Felix.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;we have no time to lose.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER VIII
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I regret,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said to Felix as they sat side by side in the small
+      coupe, &ldquo;that your stay in this country will be so brief.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Indeed,&rdquo; Felix answered. &ldquo;May I ask what you call brief?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin looked out of the carriage window.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We are already,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;on the way to England.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Felix laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;is like old times.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The system of espionage here,&rdquo; he remarked, &ldquo;is painfully primitive. It
+      lacks finesse and judgment. The fact that I have taken expensive rooms on
+      the Campania, and that I have sent many packages there, that my own
+      belongings are still in my rooms untouched, seems to our friends
+      conclusive evidence that I am going to attempt to leave America by that
+      boat. They have, I believe, a warrant for my arrest on some ridiculous
+      charge which they intend to present at the last moment. They will not have
+      the opportunity.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But there is no other steamer sailing to-morrow, is there?&rdquo; Felix asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not from New York,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered, &ldquo;but it was never my intention to
+      sail from New York. We are on our way to Boston now, and we sail in the
+      Saxonia at six o&rsquo;clock to-morrow morning.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We appear to be stopping at the Waldorf,&rdquo; Felix remarked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is quite correct,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered. &ldquo;Follow me through the hall as
+      quickly as possible. There is another carriage waiting at the other
+      entrance, and I expect to find in it Duson and my dressing-case.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They alighted and made their way though the crowded vestibules. At the
+      Thirty-fourth Street entrance a carriage was drawn up. Duson was standing
+      upon the pavement, his pale, nervous face whiter than ever under the
+      electric light. Mr. Sabin stopped short.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Felix,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;one word. If by any chance things have gone wrong they
+      will not have made any arrangements to detain you. Catch the midnight
+      train to Boston and embark on the Saxonia. There will be a cable for you
+      at Liverpool. But the moment you leave me send this despatch.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Felix nodded and put the crumpled-up piece of paper in his pocket. The two
+      men passed on. Duson took off his hat, but his fingers were trembling. The
+      carriage door was opened and a tall, spare man descended.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is Mr. Sabin?&rdquo; he remarked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin bowed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is my name,&rdquo; he admitted, &ldquo;by which I have been generally called in
+      this democratic country. What is your business with me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I rather guess that you&rsquo;re my prisoner,&rdquo; the man answered. &ldquo;If you&rsquo;ll
+      step right in here we can get away quietly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The suggestion,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin remarked, &ldquo;sounds inviting, but I am somewhat
+      pressed for time. Might I inquire the nature of the charge you have
+      against me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They&rsquo;ll tell you that at the office,&rdquo; the man answered. &ldquo;Get in, please.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin looked around for Felix, but he had disappeared. He took out his
+      cigarette-case.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will permit me first to light a cigarette,&rdquo; he remarked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All right! Only look sharp.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin kept silence in the carriage. The drive was a long one. When
+      they descended he looked up at Duson, who sat upon the box.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Duson,&rdquo; he said, and his voice, though low, was terrible, &ldquo;I see that I
+      can be mistaken in men. You are a villain.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man sprung to his feet, hat in hand. His face was wrung with emotion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your Grace,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;it is true that I betrayed you. But I did it
+      without reward. I am a ruined man. I did it because the orders which came
+      to me were such as I dare not disobey. Here are your keys, your Grace, and
+      money.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin looked at him steadily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You, too, Duson?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I too, alas, your Grace!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin considered for a moment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Duson,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I retain you in my service. Take my luggage on board
+      the Campania to-morrow afternoon, and pay the bill at the hotel. I shall
+      join you on the boat.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Duson was amazed. The man who was standing by laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you take my advice, sir,&rdquo; he remarked, &ldquo;you&rsquo;ll order your clothes to
+      be sent here. I&rsquo;ve a kind of fancy the Campania will sail without you
+      to-morrow.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have my orders, Duson,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said. &ldquo;You can rely upon seeing
+      me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The detective led the way into the building, and opened the door leading
+      into a large, barely furnished office.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Chief&rsquo;s gone home for the night, I guess,&rdquo; he remarked. &ldquo;We can fix up a
+      shakedown for you in one of the rooms behind.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I thank you,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, sitting down in a high-backed wooden chair;
+      &ldquo;I decline to move until the charge against me is properly explained.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is no one here to do it just now,&rdquo; the man answered. &ldquo;Better make
+      yourself comfortable for a bit.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You detain me here, then,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;without even a sight of your
+      warrant or any intimation as to the charge against me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, the chief&rsquo;ll fix all that,&rdquo; the man answered. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t you worry.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In a magnificently furnished apartment somewhere in the neighbourhood of
+      Fifth Avenue a small party of men were seated round a card table piled
+      with chips and rolls of bills. On the sideboard there was a great
+      collection of empty bottles, spirit decanters and Vichy syphons. Mr.
+      Horser was helping himself to brandy and water with one hand and holding
+      himself up with the other. There was a knock at the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A man who was still playing looked up. He was about fifty years of age,
+      clean shaven, with vacuous eyes and a weak mouth. He was the host of the
+      party.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come in!&rdquo; he shouted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A young man entered in a long black overcoat and soft hat. He looked about
+      him without surprise, but he seemed to note Mr. Horser&rsquo;s presence with
+      some concern. The man at the table threw down his cards.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What the devil do you want, Smith?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;An important despatch from Washington has just arrived, sir. I have
+      brought it up with the codebook.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;From Washington at this time of the night,&rdquo; he exclaimed thickly. &ldquo;Come
+      in here, Smith.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He raised the curtains leading into a small anteroom, and turned up the
+      electric light. His clerk laid the message down on the table before him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here is the despatch, Mr. Mace,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;and here is the translation.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;English Ambassador demands immediate explanation of arrest of Duke
+      Souspennier at Waldorf to-night. Reply immediately what charge and
+      evidence. Souspennier naturalised Englishman.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Mace sprang to his feet with an oath. He threw aside the curtain which
+      shielded the room from the larger apartment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Horser, come here, you damned fool!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Horser, with a stream of magnificent invectives, obeyed the summons. His
+      host pointed to the message.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Read that!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Horser read and his face grew even more repulsive. A dull purple flush
+      suffused his cheeks, his eyes were bloodshot, and the veins on his
+      forehead stood out like cords. He leaned for several moments against the
+      table and steadily cursed Mr. Sabin, the government at Washington, and
+      something under his breath which he did not dare to name openly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, shut up!&rdquo; his host said at last. &ldquo;How the devil are we going to get
+      out of this?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Horser left the room and returned with a tumbler full of brandy and a
+      very little water.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Take a drink yourself,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;It&rsquo;ll steady you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I&rsquo;m steady enough,&rdquo; Mr. Mace replied impatiently. &ldquo;I want to know how
+      you&rsquo;re going to get us out of this. What was the charge, anyhow?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Passing forged bills,&rdquo; Horser answered. &ldquo;Parsons fixed it up.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Mace turned a shade paler.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where the devil&rsquo;s the sense in a charge like that?&rdquo; he answered fiercely.
+      &ldquo;The man&rsquo;s a millionaire. He&rsquo;ll turn the tables on us nicely.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We&rsquo;ve got to keep him till after the Campania sails, anyhow,&rdquo; Horser said
+      doggedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We&rsquo;re not going to keep him ten minutes,&rdquo; Mace replied. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m going to
+      sign the order for his release.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Horser&rsquo;s speech was thick with drunken fury. &ldquo;By &mdash;- I&rsquo;ll see that
+      you don&rsquo;t!&rdquo; he exclaimed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mace turned upon him angrily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You selfish fool!&rdquo; he muttered. &ldquo;You&rsquo;re not in the thing, anyhow. If you
+      think I&rsquo;m going to risk my position for the sake of one little job you&rsquo;re
+      wrong. I shall go down myself and release him, with an apology.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He&rsquo;ll have his revenge all the same,&rdquo; Horser answered. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s too late now
+      to funk the thing. They can&rsquo;t budge you. We&rsquo;ll see to that. We hold New
+      York in our hands. Be a man, Mace, and run a little risk. It&rsquo;s fifty
+      thousand.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mace looked up at him curiously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you get out of it, Horser?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Horser&rsquo;s face hardened.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not one cent!&rdquo; he declared fiercely. &ldquo;Only if I fail it might be
+      unpleasant for me next time I crossed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know!&rdquo; Mace declared weakly. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know what to do. It&rsquo;s
+      twelve hours, Horser, and the charge is ridiculous.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have me behind you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I can&rsquo;t tell them that at Washington,&rdquo; Mace said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It&rsquo;s a fact, all the same. Don&rsquo;t be so damned nervous.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mace dismissed his clerk, and found his other guests, too, on the point of
+      departure. But the last had scarcely left before a servant entered with
+      another despatch.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Release Souspennier.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mace handed it to his companion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This settles it,&rdquo; he declared. &ldquo;I shall go round and try and make my
+      peace with the fellow.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Horser stood in the way, burly, half-drunk and vicious. He struck his host
+      in the face with clenched fist. Mace went down with scarcely a groan. A
+      servant, hearing the fall, came hurrying back.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your master is drunk and he has fallen down,&rdquo; Horser said. &ldquo;Put him to
+      bed&mdash;give him a sleeping draught if you&rsquo;ve got one.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The servant bent over the unconscious man.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hadn&rsquo;t I better fetch a doctor, sir?&rdquo; he asked. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m afraid he&rsquo;s hurt.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not he!&rdquo; Horser answered contemptuously. &ldquo;He&rsquo;s cut his cheek a little,
+      that&rsquo;s all. Put him to bed. Say I shall be round again by nine o&rsquo;clock.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Horser put on his coat and left the house. The morning sunlight was
+      flooding the streets. Away down town Mr. Sabin was dozing in his
+      high-backed chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER IX
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Felix, after an uneventful voyage, landed duly at Liverpool. To his
+      amazement the first person he saw upon the quay was Mr. Sabin, leaning
+      upon his stick and smoking a cigarette.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come, come, Felix!&rdquo; he exclaimed. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t look at me as though I were a
+      ghost. You have very little confidence in me, after all, I see.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But&mdash;how did you get here?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Campania, of course. I had plenty of time. It was easy enough for
+      those fellows to arrest me, but they never had a chance of holding me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But how did you get away in time?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin sighed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was very simple,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;One day, while one of those wonderful
+      spies was sleeping on my doormat I slipped away and went over to
+      Washington, saw the English Ambassador, convinced him of my bonafides,
+      told him very nearly the whole truth. He promised if I wired him that I
+      was arrested to take my case up at once. You sent the despatch, and he
+      kept his word. I breakfasted on Saturday morning at the Waldorf, and
+      though a great dray was driven into my carriage on the way to the boat, I
+      escaped, as I always do&mdash;and here I am.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Unhurt!&rdquo; Felix remarked with a smile, &ldquo;as usual!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The driver of my carriage was killed, and Duson had his arm broken,&rdquo; he
+      said. &ldquo;I stepped out of the debris without a scratch. Come into the
+      Customs House now and get your baggage through. I have taken a coupe on
+      the special train and ordered lunch.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Before long they were on the way to London. Mr. Sabin, whilst luncheon was
+      being served, talked only of the lightest matters. But afterwards, when
+      coffee was served and he had lit a cigarette, he leaned over towards
+      Felix.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Felix,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;your sister is dear to you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She is the only creature on earth,&rdquo; Felix said, &ldquo;whom I care for. She is
+      very dear to me, indeed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Am I right,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin asked, &ldquo;in assuming that the old enmity between us
+      is dead, that the last few years has wiped away the old soreness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; Felix answered. &ldquo;I know that she was happy with you. That is enough
+      for me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You and I,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin continued, &ldquo;must work out her salvation. Do not be
+      afraid that I am going to ask you impossibilities. I know that our ways
+      must lie apart. You can go to her at once. It may be many, many months
+      before I can catch even a glimpse of her. Never mind. Let me feel that she
+      has you within the circle, and I without, with our lives devoted to her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You may rely upon that,&rdquo; Felix answered. &ldquo;Wherever she is I am going. I
+      shall be there. I will watch over her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin sighed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The more difficult task is mine,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;but I have no fear of
+      failure. I shall find her surrounded by spies, by those who are now my
+      enemies. Still, they will find it hard to shake me off. It may be that
+      they took her from me only out of revenge. If that be so my task will be
+      easier. If there are other dangers which she is called upon to face, it is
+      still possible that they might accept my service instead.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You would give it?&rdquo; Felix exclaimed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To the last drop of blood in my body,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered. &ldquo;Save for my
+      love for her I am a dead man upon the earth. I have no longer politics or
+      ambition. So the past can easily be expunged. Those who must be her
+      guiding influence shall be mine.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will win her back,&rdquo; Felix said. &ldquo;I am sure of it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am willing to pay any price on earth,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered. &ldquo;If they can
+      forget the past I can. I want you to remember this. I want her to know it.
+      I want them to know it. That is all, Felix.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin leaned back in his seat. He had left this country last a
+      stricken and defeated man, left it with the echoes of his ruined schemes
+      crashing in his ears. He came back to it a man with one purpose only, and
+      that such a purpose as never before had guided him&mdash;the love of a
+      woman. Was it a sign of age, he wondered, this return to the humanities?
+      His life had been full of great schemes, he had wielded often a gigantic
+      influence, more than once he had made history. And now the love of these
+      things had gone from him. Their fascination was powerless to quicken by a
+      single beat his steady pulse. Monarchy or republic&mdash;what did he care?
+      It was Lucille he wanted, the woman who had shown him how sweet even
+      defeat might be, who had made these three years of his life so happy that
+      they seemed to have passed in one delightful dream. Were they dead,
+      annihilated, these old ambitions, the old love of great doings, or did
+      they only slumber? He moved in his seat uneasily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At Euston the two men separated with a silent handshake. Mr. Sabin drove
+      to one of the largest and newest of the modern hotels de luxe. He entered
+      his name as Mr. Sabin&mdash;the old exile&rsquo;s hatred of using his title in a
+      foreign country had become a confirmed habit with him&mdash;and mingled
+      freely with the crowds who thronged into the restaurant at night. There
+      were many faces which he remembered, there were a few who remembered him.
+      He neither courted nor shunned observation. He sat at dinner-time at a
+      retired table, and found himself watching the people with a stir of
+      pleasure. Afterwards he went round to a famous club, of which he had once
+      been made a life member, but towards midnight he was wearied of the dull
+      decorum of his surroundings, and returning to the hotel, sought the
+      restaurant once more. The stream of people coming in to supper was greater
+      even than at dinner-time. He found a small table, and ordered some
+      oysters. The sight of this bevy of pleasure-seekers, all apparently with
+      multitudes of friends, might have engendered a sense of loneliness in a
+      man of different disposition. To Mr. Sabin his isolation was a luxury. He
+      had an uninterrupted opportunity of pursuing his favourite study.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There entered a party towards midnight, to meet whom the head-waiter
+      himself came hurrying from the further end of the room, and whose arrival
+      created a little buzz of interest. The woman who formed the central figure
+      of the little group had for two years known no rival either at Court or in
+      Society. She was the most beautiful woman in England, beautiful too with
+      all the subtle grace of her royal descent. There were women upon the stage
+      whose faces might have borne comparison with hers, but there was not one
+      who in a room would not have sunk into insignificance by her side. Her
+      movements, her carriage were incomparable&mdash;the inherited gifts of a
+      race of women born in palaces.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin, who neither shunned nor courted observation, watched her with a
+      grim smile which was not devoid of bitterness. Suddenly she saw him. With
+      a little cry of wonder she came towards him with outstretched hands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is marvelous,&rdquo; she exclaimed. &ldquo;You? Really you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He bowed low over her hands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is I, dear Helene,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;A moment ago I was dreaming. I
+      thought that I was back once more at Versailles, and in the presence of my
+      Queen.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She laughed softly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There may be no Versailles,&rdquo; she murmured, &ldquo;but you will be a courtier to
+      the end of your days.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At least,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;believe me that my congratulations come from my
+      heart. Your happiness is written in your face, and your husband must be
+      the proudest man in England.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He was standing now by her side, and he held out his hand to Mr. Sabin.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I hope, sir,&rdquo; he said pleasantly, &ldquo;that you bear me no ill-will.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It would be madness,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered. &ldquo;To be the most beautiful
+      peeress in England is perhaps for Helene a happier fate than to be the
+      first queen of a new dynasty.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you, uncle?&rdquo; Helene said. &ldquo;You are back from your exile then. How
+      often I have felt disposed to smile when I thought of you, of all men, in
+      America.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I went into exile,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered, &ldquo;and I found paradise. The three
+      years which have passed since I saw you last have been the happiest of my
+      life.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lucille!&rdquo; Helene exclaimed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is my wife,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Delightful!&rdquo; Helene murmured. &ldquo;She is with you then, I hope. Indeed, I
+      felt sure that I saw her the other night at the opera.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At the opera!&rdquo; Mr. Sabin for a moment was silent. He would have been
+      ashamed to confess that his heart was beating strongly, that a crowd of
+      eager questions trembled upon his lips. He recovered himself after a
+      moment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lucille is not with me for the moment,&rdquo; he said in measured tones. &ldquo;I am
+      detaining you from your guests, Helene. If you will permit me I will call
+      upon you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Won&rsquo;t you join us?&rdquo; Lord Camperdown asked courteously. &ldquo;We are only a
+      small party&mdash;the Portuguese Ambassador and his wife, the Duke of
+      Medchester, and Stanley Phillipson.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin rose at once.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shall be delighted,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Camperdown hesitated for a moment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I present Monsieur le Due de Souspennier, I presume?&rdquo; he remarked,
+      smiling.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin bowed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am Mr. Sabin,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;at the hotels and places where one travels. To
+      my friends I have no longer an incognito. It is not necessary.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It was a brilliant little supper party, and Mr. Sabin contributed at least
+      his share to the general entertainment. Before they dispersed he had to
+      bring out his tablets to make notes of his engagements. He stood on the
+      top of the steps above the palm-court to wish them good-bye, leaning on
+      his stick. Helene turned back and waved her hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is unchanged,&rdquo; she murmured, &ldquo;yet I fear that there must be trouble.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why? He seemed cheerful enough,&rdquo; her husband remarked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She dropped her voice a little.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lucille is in London. She is staying at Dorset House.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER X
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin was deep in thought. He sat in an easy-chair with his back to
+      the window, his hands crossed upon his stick, his eyes fixed upon the
+      fire. Duson was moving noiselessly about the room, cutting the morning&rsquo;s
+      supply of newspapers and setting them out upon the table. His master was
+      in a mood which he had been taught to respect. It was Mr. Sabin who broke
+      the silence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Duson!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your Grace!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have always, as you know, ignored your somewhat anomalous position as
+      the servant of one man and the slave of a society. The questions which I
+      am about to ask you you can answer or not, according to your own
+      apprehensions of what is due to each.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I thank your Grace!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My departure from America seemed to incite the most violent opposition on
+      the part of your friends. As you know, it was with a certain amount of
+      difficulty that I reached this country. Now, however, I am left altogether
+      alone. I have not received a single warning letter. My comings and goings,
+      although purposely devoid of the slightest secrecy, are absolutely
+      undisturbed. Yet I have some reason to believe that your mistress is in
+      London.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your Grace will pardon me,&rdquo; Duson said, &ldquo;but there is outside a gentleman
+      waiting to see you to whom you might address the same questions with
+      better results, for compared with him I know nothing. It is Monsieur
+      Felix.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why have you kept him waiting?&rdquo; Mr. Sabin asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your Grace was much absorbed,&rdquo; Duson answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Felix was smoking a cigarette, and Mr. Sabin greeted him with a certain
+      grim cordiality.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is this permitted&mdash;this visit?&rdquo; he asked, himself selecting a
+      cigarette and motioning his guest to a chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is even encouraged,&rdquo; Felix answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have perhaps some message?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;None.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am glad to see you,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said. &ldquo;Just now I am a little puzzled. I
+      will put the matter to you. You shall answer or not, at your own
+      discretion.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am ready,&rdquo; Felix declared.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You know the difficulty with which I escaped from America,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin
+      continued. &ldquo;Every means which ingenuity could suggest seemed brought to
+      bear against me. And every movement was directed, if not from here, from
+      some place in Europe. Well, I arrived here four days ago. I live quite
+      openly, I have even abjured to some extent my incognito. Yet I have not
+      received even a warning letter. I am left absolutely undisturbed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Felix looked at him thoughtfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And what do you deduce from this?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do not like it,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered drily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;After all,&rdquo; Felix remarked, &ldquo;it is to some extent natural. The very
+      openness of your life here makes interference with you more difficult, and
+      as to warning letters&mdash;well, you have proved the uselessness of
+      them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered. &ldquo;At the same time, if I were a
+      superstitious person I should consider this inaction ominous.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You must take account also,&rdquo; Felix said, &ldquo;of the difference in the
+      countries. In England the police system, if not the most infallible in the
+      world, is certainly the most incorruptible. There was never a country in
+      which security of person and life was so keenly watched over as here. In
+      America, up to a certain point, a man is expected to look after himself.
+      The same feeling does not prevail here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin assented.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And therefore,&rdquo; he remarked, &ldquo;for the purposes of your friends I should
+      consider this a difficult and unpromising country in which to work.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Other countries, other methods!&rdquo; Felix remarked laconically.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Exactly! It is the new methods which I am anxious to discover,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin
+      said. &ldquo;No glimmering of them as yet has been vouchsafed to me. Yet I
+      believe that I am right in assuming that for the moment London is the
+      headquarters of your friends, and that Lucille is here?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If that is meant for a question,&rdquo; Felix said, &ldquo;I may not answer it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yet,&rdquo; he suggested, &ldquo;your visit has an object. To discover my plans
+      perhaps! You are welcome to them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Felix thoughtfully knocked the ashes off his cigarette.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My visit had an object,&rdquo; he admitted, &ldquo;but it was a personal one. I am
+      not actually concerned in the doings of those whom you have called my
+      friends.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We are alone,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin reminded him. &ldquo;My time is yours.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You and I,&rdquo; Felix said, &ldquo;have had our periods of bitter enmity. With your
+      marriage to Lucille these, so far as I am concerned, ended for ever. I
+      will even admit that in my younger days I was prejudiced against you. That
+      has passed away. You have been all your days a bold and unscrupulous
+      schemer, but ends have at any rate been worthy ones. To-day I am able to
+      regard you with feelings of friendliness. You are the husband of my dear
+      sister, and for years I know that you made her very happy. I ask you, will
+      you believe in this statement of my attitude towards you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do not for a single moment doubt it,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will regard the advice which I am going to offer as disinterested?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then I offer it to you earnestly, and with my whole heart. Take the next
+      steamer and go back to America.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And leave Lucille? Go without making any effort to see her?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin was for a moment very serious indeed. The advice given in such a
+      manner was full of forebodings to him. The lines from the corners of his
+      mouth seemed graven into his face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Felix,&rdquo; he said slowly, &ldquo;I am sometimes conscious of the fact that I am
+      passing into that period of life which we call old age. My ambitions are
+      dead, my energies are weakened. For many years I have toiled&mdash;the
+      time has come for rest. Of all the great passions which I have felt there
+      remains but one&mdash;Lucille. Life without her is worth nothing to me. I
+      am weary of solitude, I am weary of everything except Lucille. How then
+      can I listen to such advice? For me it must be Lucille, or that little
+      journey into the mists, from which one does not return.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Felix was silent. The pathos of this thing touched him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will not dispute the right of those who have taken her from me,&rdquo; Mr.
+      Sabin continued, &ldquo;but I want her back. She is necessary to me. My purse,
+      my life, my brains are there to be thrown into the scales. I will buy her,
+      or fight for her, or rejoin their ranks myself. But I want her back.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Still Felix was silent. He was looking steadfastly into the fire.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have heard me,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have heard you,&rdquo; Felix answered. &ldquo;My advice stands.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know now,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;that I have a hard task before me. They
+      shall have me for a friend or an enemy. I can still make myself felt as
+      either. You have nothing more to say?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then let us part company,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;or talk of something more
+      cheerful. You depress me, Felix. Let Duson bring us wine. You look like a
+      death&rsquo;s head.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Felix roused himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will go your own way,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Now that you have chosen I will tell
+      you this. I am glad. Yes, let Duson bring wine. I will drink to your
+      health and to your success. There have been times when men have performed
+      miracles. I shall drink to that miracle.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Duson brought also a letter, which Mr. Sabin, with a nod towards Felix,
+      opened. It was from Helene.
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;15 Park Lane, London,
+     &ldquo;Thursday Morning.
+
+     &ldquo;My DEAR UNCLE,&mdash;
+
+     &ldquo;I want you to come to luncheon to-day.  The Princess de Catelan is
+     here, and I am expecting also Mr. Brott, the Home Secretary&mdash;our
+     one great politician, you know.  Many people say that he is the
+     most interesting man in England, and must be our next Prime Minister.
+     Such people interest you, I know.  Do come.
+
+                                                  &ldquo;Yours sincerely,
+                                                       &ldquo;HELENE.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin repeated the name to himself as he stood for a moment with the
+      letter in his hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Brott! What a name for a statesman! Well, here is your health, Felix. I
+      do not often drink wine in the morning, but&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He broke off in the middle of his sentence. The glass which Felix had been
+      in the act of raising to his lips lay shattered upon the floor, and a
+      little stream of wine trickled across the carpet. Felix himself seemed
+      scarcely conscious of the disaster. His cheeks were white, and he leaned
+      across the table towards Mr. Sabin.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What name did you say&mdash;what name?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin referred again to the letter which he held in his hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Brott!&rdquo; he repeated. &ldquo;He is Home Secretary, I believe.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you know about him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered. &ldquo;My niece, the Countess of Camperdown, asks
+      me to meet him to-day at luncheon. Explain yourself, my young friend.
+      There is a fresh glass by your side.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Felix poured himself out a glass and drank it off. But he remained silent.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Felix picked up his gloves and stick.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are asked to meet Mr. Brott at luncheon to-day?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you going?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Felix nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very good,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I should advise you to cultivate his acquaintance.
+      He is a very extraordinary man.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come, Felix,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said. &ldquo;You owe me something more lucid in the way
+      of explanations. Who is he?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A statesman&mdash;successful, ambitious. He expects to be Prime
+      Minister.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And what have I to do with him, or he with me?&rdquo; Mr. Sabin asked quietly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Felix shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I cannot tell you,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Yet I fancy that you and he may some time
+      be drawn together.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin asked no more questions, but he promptly sat down and accepted
+      his niece&rsquo;s invitation. When he looked round Felix had gone. He rang the
+      bell for Duson and handed him the note.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My town clothes, Duson,&rdquo; he ordered. &ldquo;I am lunching out.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man bowed and withdrew. Mr. Sabin remained for a few moments in deep
+      thought.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Brott!&rdquo; he repeated. &ldquo;Brott! It is a singular name.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XI
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      So this was the man! Mr. Sabin did not neglect his luncheon, nor was he
+      ever for a moment unmindful of the grey-headed princess who chatted away
+      by his side with all the vivacity of her race and sex. But he watched Mr.
+      Brott.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A man this! Mr. Sabin was a judge, and he appraised him rightly. He saw
+      through that courteous geniality of tone and gesture; the ready-made
+      smile, although it seemed natural enough, did not deceive him. Underneath
+      was a man of iron, square-jawed, nervous, forceful. Mr. Brott was probably
+      at that time the ablest politician of either party in the country. Mr.
+      Sabin knew it. He found himself wondering exactly at what point of their
+      lives this man and he would come into contact.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      After luncheon Helene brought them together.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I believe,&rdquo; she said to Mr. Brott, &ldquo;that you have never met my UNCLE. May
+      I make you formally acquainted? UNCLE, this is Mr. Brott, whom you must
+      know a great deal about even though you have been away for so long&mdash;the
+      Duc de Souspennier.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The two men bowed and Helene passed on. Mr. Sabin leaned upon his stick
+      and watched keenly for any sign in the other&rsquo;s face. If he expected to
+      find it he was disappointed. Either this man had no knowledge of who he
+      was, or those things which were to come between them were as yet unborn.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They strolled together after the other guests into the winter gardens,
+      which were the envy of every hostess in London. Mr. Sabin lit a cigarette,
+      Mr. Brott regretfully declined. He neither smoked nor drank wine. Yet he
+      was disposed to be friendly, and selected a seat where they were a little
+      apart from the other guests.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You at least,&rdquo; he remarked, in answer to an observation of Mr. Sabin&rsquo;s,
+      &ldquo;are free from the tyranny of politics. I am assuming, of course, that
+      your country under its present form of government has lost its hold upon
+      you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is a doubtful boon,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;It is true that I am practically an
+      exile. Republican France has no need of me. Had I been a soldier I could
+      still have remained a patriot. But for one whose leanings were towards
+      politics, neither my father before me nor I could be of service to our
+      country. You should be thankful,&rdquo; he continued with a slight smile, &ldquo;that
+      you are an Englishman. No constitution in the world can offer so much to
+      the politician who is strong enough and fearless enough.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Brott glanced towards his twinkling eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you happen to know what my politics are?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin hesitated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your views, I know, are advanced,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;For the rest I have been
+      abroad for years. I have lost touch a little with affairs in this
+      country.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am afraid,&rdquo; Mr. Brott said, &ldquo;that I shall shock you. You are an
+      aristocrat of the aristocrats, I a democrat of the democrats. The people
+      are the only masters whom I own. They first sent me to Parliament.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yet,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin remarked, &ldquo;you are, I understand, in the Cabinet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Brott glanced for a moment around. The Prime Minister was somewhere in
+      the winter gardens.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That,&rdquo; he declared, &ldquo;is an accident. I happened to be the only man
+      available who could do the work when Lord Kilbrooke died. I am telling you
+      only what is an open secret. But I am afraid I am boring you. Shall we
+      join the others?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not unless you yourself are anxious to,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin begged. &ldquo;It is
+      scarcely fair to detain you talking to an old man when there are so many
+      charming women here. But I should be sorry for you to think me hidebound
+      in my prejudices. You must remember that the Revolution decimated my
+      family. It was a long time ago, but the horror of it is still a live
+      thing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yet it was the natural outcome,&rdquo; Mr. Brott said, &ldquo;of the things which
+      went before. Such hideous misgovernment as generations of your countrymen
+      had suffered was logically bound to bring its own reprisal.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is truth in what you say,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin admitted. He did not want to
+      talk about the French Revolution.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are a stranger in London, are you not?&rdquo; Mr. Brott asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I feel myself one,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered. &ldquo;I have been away for a few
+      years, and I do not think that there is a city in the world where social
+      changes are so rapid. I should perhaps except the cities of the country
+      from which I have come. But then America is a universe of itself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      For an instant Mr. Brott gave signs of the man underneath. The air of
+      polite interest had left his face. He glanced swiftly and keenly at his
+      companion. Mr. Sabin&rsquo;s expression was immutable. It was he who scored, for
+      he marked the change, whilst Mr. Brott could not be sure whether he had
+      noticed it or not.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have been living in America, then?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For several years&mdash;yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is a country,&rdquo; Mr. Brott said, &ldquo;which I am particularly anxious to
+      visit. I see my chances, however, grow fewer and fewer as the years go
+      by.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For one like yourself,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;whose instincts and sympathies
+      are wholly with the democracy, a few months in America would be very well
+      spent.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you,&rdquo; Mr. Brott remarked, &ldquo;how did you get on with the people?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin traced a pattern with his stick upon the marble floor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I lived in the country,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I played golf and read and rested.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Were you anywhere near New York?&rdquo; Mr. Brott asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A few hours&rsquo; journey only,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered. &ldquo;My home was in a very
+      picturesque part, near Lenox.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Brott leaned a little forward.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You perhaps know then a lady who spent some time in that neighbourhood&mdash;a
+      Mrs. James Peterson. Her husband was, I believe, the American consul in
+      Vienna.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin smiled very faintly. His face betrayed no more than a natural
+      and polite interest. There was nothing to indicate the fact that his heart
+      was beating like the heart of a young man, that the blood was rushing hot
+      through his veins.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I know her very well. Is she in London?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Brott hesitated. He seemed a little uncertain how to continue.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To tell you the truth,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I believe that she has reasons for
+      desiring her present whereabouts to remain unknown. I should perhaps not
+      have mentioned her name at all. It was, I fancy, indiscreet of me. The
+      coincidence of hearing you mention the name of the place where I believe
+      she resided surprised my question. With your permission we will abandon
+      the subject.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You disappoint me,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said quietly. &ldquo;It would have given me much
+      pleasure to have resumed my acquaintance with the lady in question.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will, without doubt, have an opportunity,&rdquo; Mr. Brott said, glancing
+      at his watch and suddenly rising. &ldquo;Dear me, how the time goes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He rose to his feet. Mr. Sabin also rose.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Must I understand,&rdquo; he said in a low tone, &ldquo;that you are not at liberty
+      to give me Mrs. Peterson&rsquo;s address?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am not at liberty even,&rdquo; Mr. Brott answered, with a frown, &ldquo;to mention
+      her name. It will give me great pleasure, Duke, to better my acquaintance
+      with you. Will you dine with me at the House of Commons one night next
+      week?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shall be charmed,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered. &ldquo;My address for the next few
+      days is at the Carlton. I am staying there under my family name of Sabin&mdash;Mr.
+      Sabin. It is a fancy of mine&mdash;it has been ever since I became an
+      alien&mdash;to use my title as little as possible.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Brott looked for a moment puzzled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your pseudonym,&rdquo; he remarked thoughtfully, &ldquo;seems very familiar to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin shrugged his shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is a family name,&rdquo; he remarked, &ldquo;but I flattered myself that it was at
+      least uncommon.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Fancy, no doubt,&rdquo; Mr. Brott remarked, turning to make his adieux to his
+      hostess.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin joined a fresh group of idlers under the palms. Mr. Brott
+      lingered over his farewells.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your UNCLE, Lady Camperdown,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;is delightful. I enjoy meeting
+      new types, and he represents to me most perfectly the old order of French
+      aristocracy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am glad,&rdquo; Helene said, &ldquo;that you found him interesting. I felt sure you
+      would. In fact, I asked him especially to meet you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are the most thoughtful of hostesses,&rdquo; he assured her. &ldquo;By the bye,
+      your UNCLE has just told me the name by which he is known at the hotel.
+      Mr. Sabin! Sabin! It recalls something to my mind. I cannot exactly
+      remember what.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She smiled upon him. People generally forgot things when Helene smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is an odd fancy of his to like his title so little,&rdquo; she remarked. &ldquo;At
+      heart no one is prouder of their family and antecedents. I have heard him
+      say, though, that an exile had better leave behind him even his name.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sabin!&rdquo; Mr. Brott repeated. &ldquo;Sabin!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is an old family name,&rdquo; she murmured.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His face suddenly cleared. She knew that he had remembered. But he took
+      his leave with no further reference to it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sabin!&rdquo; he repeated to himself when alone in his carriage. &ldquo;That was the
+      name of the man who was supposed to be selling plans to the German
+      Government. Poor Renshaw was in a terrible stew about it. Sabin! An
+      uncommon name.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He had ordered the coachman to drive to the House of Commons. Suddenly he
+      pulled the check-string.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Call at Dorset House,&rdquo; he directed.
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin lingered till nearly the last of the guests had gone. Then he
+      led Helene once more into the winter gardens.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;May I detain you for one moment&rsquo;s gossip?&rdquo; he asked. &ldquo;I see your carriage
+      at the door.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is nothing,&rdquo; she declared. &ldquo;I must drive in the Park for an hour. One
+      sees one&rsquo;s friends, and it is cool and refreshing after these heated
+      rooms. But at any time. Talk to me as long as you will, and then I will
+      drop you at the Carlton.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is of Brott!&rdquo; he remarked. &ldquo;Ah, I thank you, I will smoke. Your
+      husband&rsquo;s taste in cigarettes is excellent.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps mine!&rdquo; she laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin shrugged his shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In either case I congratulate you. This man Brott. He interests me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He interests every one. Why not? He is a great personality.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Politically,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;the gauge of his success is of course the
+      measure of the man. But he himself&mdash;what manner of a man is he?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She tapped with her fingers upon the little table by their side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is rich,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;and an uncommon mixture of the student and the
+      man of society. He refuses many more invitations than he accepts, he
+      entertains very seldom but very magnificently. He has never been known to
+      pay marked attentions to any woman, even the scandal of the clubs has
+      passed him by. What else can I say about him, I wonder?&rdquo; she continued
+      reflectively. &ldquo;Nothing, I think, except this. He is a strong man. You know
+      that that counts for much.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin was silent. Perhaps he was measuring his strength in some
+      imagined encounter with this man. Something in his face alarmed Helene.
+      She suddenly leaned forward and looked at him more closely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;UNCLE,&rdquo; she exclaimed in a low voice, &ldquo;there is something on your mind.
+      Do not tell me that once more you are in the maze, that again you have
+      schemes against this country.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He smiled at her sadly enough, but she was reassured.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You need have no fear,&rdquo; he told her. &ldquo;With politics&mdash;I have
+      finished. Why I am here, what I am here for I will tell you very soon. It
+      is to find one whom I have lost&mdash;and who is dear to me. Forgive me if
+      for to-day I say no more. Come, if you will you shall drive me to my
+      hotel.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He offered his arm with the courtly grace which he knew so well how to
+      assume. Together they passed out to her carriage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XII
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;After all,&rdquo; Lady Carey sighed, throwing down a racing calendar and
+      lighting a cigarette, &ldquo;London is the only thoroughly civilized Anglo-Saxon
+      capital in the world. Please don&rsquo;t look at me like that, Duchess. I know&mdash;this
+      is your holy of holies, but the Duke smokes here&mdash;I&rsquo;ve seen him. My
+      cigarettes are very tiny and very harmless.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Duchess, who wore gold-rimmed spectacles, and was a person of weight
+      in the councils of the Primrose League, went calmly on with her knitting.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear Muriel,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;if my approval or disapproval was of the
+      slightest moment to you, it is not your smoking of which I should first
+      complain. I know, however, that you consider yourself a privileged person.
+      Pray do exactly as you like, but don&rsquo;t drop the ashes upon the carpet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey laughed softly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I suppose I am rather a thorn in your side as a relative,&rdquo; she remarked.
+      &ldquo;You must put it down to the roving blood of my ancestors. I could no more
+      live the life of you other women than I could fly. I must have excitement,
+      movement, all the time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A tall, heavily built man, who had been reading some letters at the other
+      end of the room, came sauntering up to them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;you assuredly live up to your principles, for you travel
+      all over the world as though it were one vast playground.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And sometimes,&rdquo; she remarked, &ldquo;my journeys are not exactly successful. I
+      know that that is what you are dying to say.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;On the contrary,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I do not blame you at all for this last
+      affair. You brought Lucille here, which was excellent. Your failure as
+      regards Mr. Sabin is scarcely to be fastened upon you. It is Horser whom
+      we hold responsible for that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Poor Horser! It was rather rough to pit a creature like that against
+      Souspennier.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man shrugged his shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Horser,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;may not be brilliant, but he had a great organisation
+      at his back. Souspennier was without friends or influence. The contest
+      should scarcely have been so one-sided. To tell you the truth, my dear
+      Muriel, I am more surprised that you yourself should have found the task
+      beyond you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey&rsquo;s face darkened.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was too soon after the loss of Lucille,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;and besides, there
+      was his vanity to be reckoned with. It was like a challenge to him, and he
+      had taken up the glove before I returned to New York.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Duchess looked up from her work.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have you had any conversation with my husband, Prince?&rdquo; she asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince of Saxe Leinitzer twirled his heavy moustache and sank into a
+      chair between the two women.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have had a long talk with him,&rdquo; he announced. &ldquo;And the result?&rdquo; the
+      Duchess asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The result I fear you would scarcely consider satisfactory,&rdquo; the Prince
+      declared. &ldquo;The moment that I hinted at the existence of&mdash;er&mdash;conditions
+      of which you, Duchess, are aware, he showed alarm, and I had all that I
+      could do to reassure him. I find it everywhere amongst your aristocracy&mdash;this
+      stubborn confidence in the existence of the reigning order of things, this
+      absolute detestation of anything approaching intrigue.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear man, I hope you don&rsquo;t include me,&rdquo; Lady Carey exclaimed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You, Lady Muriel,&rdquo; he answered, with a slow smile, &ldquo;are an exception to
+      all rules. No, you are a rule by yourself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To revert to the subject then for a moment,&rdquo; the Duchess said stiffly.
+      &ldquo;You have made no progress with the Duke?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;None whatever,&rdquo; Saxe Leinitzer admitted. &ldquo;He was sufficiently emphatic to
+      inspire me with every caution. Even now I have doubts as to whether I have
+      altogether reassured him. I really believe, dear Duchess, that we should
+      be better off if you could persuade him to go and live upon his estates.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Duchess smiled grimly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Whilst the House of Lords exists,&rdquo; she remarked, &ldquo;you will never succeed
+      in keeping Algernon away from London. He is always on the point of making
+      a speech, although he never does it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have heard of that speech,&rdquo; Lady Carey drawled, from her low seat. &ldquo;It
+      is to be a thoroughly enlightening affair. All the great social questions
+      are to be permanently disposed of. The Prime Minister will come on his
+      knees and beg Algernon to take his place.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Duchess looked up over her knitting.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Algernon is at least in earnest,&rdquo; she remarked drily. &ldquo;And he has the
+      good conscience of a clean living and honest man.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What an unpleasant possession it must be,&rdquo; Lady Carey remarked sweetly.
+      &ldquo;I disposed of my conscience finally many years ago. I am not sure, but I
+      believe that it was the Prince to whom I entrusted the burying of it. By
+      the bye, Lucille will be here directly, I suppose. Is she to be told of
+      Souspennier&rsquo;s arrival in London?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I imagine,&rdquo; the Prince said, with knitted brows, &ldquo;that it will not be
+      wise to keep it from her. It is impossible to conceal her whereabouts, and
+      the papers will very shortly acquaint her with his.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And,&rdquo; Lady Carey asked, &ldquo;how does the little affair progress?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Admirably,&rdquo; the Prince answered. &ldquo;Already some of the Society papers are
+      beginning to chatter about the friendship existing between a Cabinet
+      Minister and a beautiful Hungarian lady of title, etc., etc. The fact of
+      it is that Brott is in deadly earnest. He gives himself away every time.
+      If Lucille has not lost old cleverness she will be able to twist him
+      presently around her little finger.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If only some one would twist him on the rack,&rdquo; the Duchess murmured
+      vindictively. &ldquo;I tried to read one of his speeches the other day. It was
+      nothing more nor less than blasphemy. I do not think that I am naturally a
+      cruel woman, but I would hand such men over to the public executioner with
+      joy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille came in, as beautiful as ever, but with tired lines under her full
+      dark eyes. She sank into a low chair with listless grace.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Reginald Brott again, I suppose,&rdquo; she remarked curtly. &ldquo;I wish the man
+      had never existed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is a very cruel speech, Lucille,&rdquo; the Prince said, with a
+      languishing glance towards her, &ldquo;for if it had not been for Brott we
+      should never have dared to call you out from your seclusion.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then more heartily than ever,&rdquo; Lucille declared, &ldquo;I wish the man had
+      never been born. You cannot possibly flatter yourself, Prince, that your
+      summons was a welcome one.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He shrugged his shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shall never, be able to believe,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;that the Countess Radantz
+      was able to do more than support existence in a small American town&mdash;without
+      society, with no scope for her ambitions, detached altogether from the
+      whole civilized world.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Which only goes to prove, Prince,&rdquo; Lucille remarked contemptuously, &ldquo;that
+      you do not understand me in the least. As a place of residence Lenox would
+      compare very favourably with&mdash;say Homburg, and for companionship you
+      forget my husband. I never met the woman yet who did not prefer the
+      company of one man, if only it were the right one, to the cosmopolitan
+      throng we call society.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It sounds idyllic, but very gauche,&rdquo; Lady Carey remarked drily. &ldquo;In
+      effect it is rather a blow on the cheek for you, Prince. Of course you
+      know that the Prince is in love with you, Lucille?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wish he were,&rdquo; she answered, looking lazily out of the window.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He bent over her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I would persuade him to send me home again,&rdquo; she answered coldly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Duchess looked up from her knitting. &ldquo;Your husband has saved you the
+      journey,&rdquo; she remarked, &ldquo;even if you were able to work upon the Prince&rsquo;s
+      good nature to such an extent.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille started round eagerly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you mean?&rdquo; she cried.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your husband is in London,&rdquo; the Duchess answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille laughed with the gaiety of a child. Like magic the lines from
+      beneath her eyes seemed to have vanished. Lady Carey watched her with pale
+      cheeks and malevolent expression.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come, Prince,&rdquo; she cried mockingly, &ldquo;it was only a week ago that you
+      assured me that my husband could not leave America. Already he is in
+      London. I must go to see him. Oh, I insist upon it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Saxe Leinitzer glanced towards the Duchess. She laid down her knitting.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear Countess,&rdquo; she said firmly, &ldquo;I beg that you will listen to me
+      carefully. I speak to you for your own good, and I believe I may add,
+      Prince, that I speak with authority.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;With authority!&rdquo; the Prince echoed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We all,&rdquo; the Duchess continued, &ldquo;look upon your husband&rsquo;s arrival as
+      inopportune and unfortunate. We are all agreed that you must be kept
+      apart. Certain obligations have been laid upon you. You could not possibly
+      fulfil them with a husband at your elbow. The matter will be put plainly
+      before your husband, as I am now putting it before you. He will be warned
+      not to attempt to see or communicate with you as your husband. If he or
+      you disobey the consequences will be serious.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille shrugged her shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is easy to talk,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;but you will not find it easy to keep
+      Victor away when he has found out where I am.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince intervened.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We have no objection to your meeting,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;but it must be as
+      acquaintances. There must be no intermission or slackening in your task,
+      and that can only be properly carried out by the Countess Radantz and from
+      Dorset House.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille smothered her disappointment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dear me,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;You will find Victor a little hard to persuade.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a moment&rsquo;s silence. Then the Prince spoke slowly, and watching
+      carefully the effect of his words upon Lucille.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Countess,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;it has been our pleasure to make of your task so far
+      as possible a holiday. Yet perhaps it is wiser to remind you that
+      underneath the glove is an iron hand. We do not often threaten, but we
+      brook no interference. We have the means to thwart it. I bear no ill-will
+      to your husband, but to you I say this. If he should be so mad as to defy
+      us, to incite you to disobedience, he must pay the penalty.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A servant entered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Reginald Brott is in the small drawing-room, your Grace,&rdquo; he
+      announced. &ldquo;He enquired for the Countess Radantz.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille rose. When the servant had disappeared she turned round for a
+      moment, and faced the Prince. A spot of colour burned in her cheeks, her
+      eyes were bright with anger.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shall remember your words, Prince,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;So far from mine being,
+      however, a holiday task, it is one of the most wearisome and unpleasant I
+      ever undertook. And in return for your warnings let me tell you this. If
+      you should bring any harm upon my husband you shall answer for it all your
+      days to me. I will do my duty. Be careful that you do not exceed yours.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She swept out of the room. Lady Carey laughed mockingly at the Prince.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Poor Ferdinand!&rdquo; she exclaimed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XIII
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      He had been kept waiting longer than usual, and he had somehow the feeling
+      that his visit was ill-timed, when at last she came to him. He looked up
+      eagerly as she entered the little reception room which he had grown to
+      know so well during the last few weeks, and it struck him for the first
+      time that her welcome was a little forced, her eyes a little weary.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I haven&rsquo;t,&rdquo; he said apologetically, &ldquo;the least right to be here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At least,&rdquo; she murmured, &ldquo;I may be permitted to remind you that you are
+      here without an invitation.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The worse luck,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;that one should be necessary.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is the one hour of the day,&rdquo; she remarked, sinking into a large
+      easy-chair, &ldquo;which I devote to repose. How shall I preserve my fleeting
+      youth if you break in upon it in this ruthless manner?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If I could only truthfully say that I was sorry,&rdquo; he answered, &ldquo;but I
+      can&rsquo;t. I am here&mdash;and I would rather be here than anywhere else in
+      the world.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She looked at him with curving lips; and even he, who had watched her
+      often, could not tell whether that curve was of scorn or mirth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They told me,&rdquo; she said impressively, &ldquo;that you were different&mdash;a
+      woman-hater, honest, gruff, a little cynical. Yet those are the speeches
+      of your salad days. What a disenchantment!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The things which one invents when one is young,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;come perhaps
+      fresh from the heart in later life. The words may sound the same, but
+      there is a difference.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;you are improving. That at any rate is ingenious.
+      Suppose you tell me now what has brought you here before four o&rsquo;clock,
+      when I am not fit to be seen?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He smiled. She shrugged her shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I mean it. I haven&rsquo;t either my clothes or my manners on yet. Come,
+      explain.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I met a man who interested me,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;He comes from America, from
+      Lenox!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He saw her whiten. He saw her fingers clutch the sides of her chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;From Lenox? And his name?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Duke of Souspennier! He takes himself so seriously that he even
+      travels incognito. At the hotel he calls himself Mr. Sabin.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Indeed!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wondered whether you might not know him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I know him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And in connection with this man,&rdquo; Brott continued, &ldquo;I have something in
+      the nature of a confession to make. I forgot for a moment your request. I
+      even mentioned your name.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The pallor had spread to her cheeks, even to her lips. Yet her eyes were
+      soft and brilliant, so brilliant that they fascinated him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What did he say? What did he ask?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He asked for your address. Don&rsquo;t be afraid. I made some excuse. I did not
+      give it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      For the life of him he could not tell whether she was pleased or
+      disappointed. She had turned her shoulder to him. She was looking steadily
+      out of the window, and he could not see her face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why are you curious about him?&rdquo; she asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wish I knew. I think only because he came from Lenox.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She turned her face slowly round towards him. He was astonished to see the
+      dark rings under her eyes, the weariness of her smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Duke of Souspennier,&rdquo; she said slowly, &ldquo;is an old and a dear friend
+      of mine. When you tell me that he is in London I am anxious because there
+      are many here who are not his friends&mdash;who have no cause to love
+      him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was wrong then,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;not to give him your address.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You were right,&rdquo; she answered. &ldquo;I am anxious that he should not know it.
+      You will remember this?&rdquo; He rose and bowed over her hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This has been a selfish interlude,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I have destroyed your rest,
+      and I almost fear that I have also disturbed your peace of mind. Let me
+      take my leave and pray that you may recover both.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She shook her head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do not leave me,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I am low-spirited. You shall stay and cheer
+      me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a light in his eyes which few people would have recognised. She
+      rose with a little laugh and stood leaning towards the fire, her elbow
+      upon the broad mantel, tall, graceful, alluring. Her soft crimson gown,
+      with its wealth of old lace, fell around her in lines and curves full of
+      grace. The pallor of her face was gone now&mdash;the warmth of the fire
+      burned her cheeks. Her voice became softer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sit down and talk to me,&rdquo; she murmured. &ldquo;Do you remember the old days,
+      when you were a very timid young secretary of Sir George Nomsom, and I was
+      a maid-of-honour at the Viennese Court? Dear me, how you have changed!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Time,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;will not stand still for all of us. Yet my memory tells
+      me how possible it would be&mdash;for indeed those days seem but as
+      yesterday.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He looked up at her with a sudden jealousy. His tone shook with passion.
+      No one would have recognised Brott now. In his fiercest hour of debate,
+      his hour of greatest trial, he had worn his mask, always master of himself
+      and his speech. And now he had cast it off. His eyes were hungry, his lips
+      twitched.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As yesterday! Lucille, I could kill you when I think of those days. For
+      twenty years your kiss has lain upon my lips&mdash;and you&mdash;with you&mdash;it
+      has been different.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She laughed softly upon him, laughed more with her eyes than with her
+      lips. She watched him curiously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dear me!&rdquo; she murmured, &ldquo;what would you have? I am a woman&mdash;I have
+      been a woman all my days, and the memory of one kiss grows cold. So I will
+      admit that with me&mdash;it has been different. Come! What then?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He groaned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wonder,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;what miserable fate, what cursed stroke of fortune
+      brought you once more into my life?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She threw her head back and laughed at him, this time heartily,
+      unaffectedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What adorable candour!&rdquo; she exclaimed. &ldquo;My dear friend, how amiable you
+      are.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He looked at her steadfastly, and somehow the laugh died away from her
+      lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lucille, will you marry me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Marry you? I? Certainly not.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And why not?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For a score of reasons, if you want them,&rdquo; she answered. &ldquo;First, because
+      I think it is delightful to have you for a friend. I can never quite tell
+      what you are going to do or say. As a husband I am almost sure that you
+      would be monotonous. But then, how could you avoid it? It is madness to
+      think of destroying a pleasant friendship in such a manner.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are mocking me,&rdquo; he said sadly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;why not? Your own proposal is a mockery.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A mockery! My proposal!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; she answered steadily. &ldquo;You know quite well that the very thought
+      of such a thing between you and me is an absurdity. I abhor your politics,
+      I detest your party. You are ambitious, I know. You intend to be Prime
+      Minister, a people&rsquo;s Prime Minister. Well, for my part, I hate the people.
+      I am an aristocrat. As your wife I should be in a perfectly ridiculous
+      position. How foolish! You have led me into talking of this thing
+      seriously. Let us forget all this rubbish.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He stood before her&mdash;waiting patiently, his mouth close set, his
+      manner dogged with purpose.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is not rubbish,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;It is true that I shall be Prime Minister.
+      It is true also that you will be my wife.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She shrank back from him&mdash;uneasily. The fire in his eyes, the ring in
+      his tone distressed her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As for my politics, you do not understand them. But you shall! I will
+      convert you to my way of thinking. Yes, I will do that. The cause of the
+      people, of freedom, is the one great impulse which beats through all the
+      world. You too shall hear it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I have no wish to hear it. I do not believe in
+      what you call freedom for the people. I have discovered in America how
+      uncomfortable a people&rsquo;s country can be.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yet you married an American. You call yourself still the Countess
+      Radantz... but you married Mr. James B. Peterson!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is true, my friend,&rdquo; she answered. &ldquo;But the American in question was a
+      person of culture and intelligence, and at heart he was no more a democrat
+      than I am. Further, I am an extravagant woman, and he was a millionaire.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you, after his death, without necessity&mdash;went to bury yourself
+      in his country.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why not?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am jealous of every year of your life which lies hidden from me,&rdquo; he
+      said slowly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dear me&mdash;how uncomfortable!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Before you&mdash;reappeared,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I had learnt, yes I had learnt to
+      do without you. I had sealed up the one chapter of my life which had in it
+      anything to do with sentiment. Your coming has altered all that. You have
+      disturbed the focus of my ambitions. Lucille! I have loved you for more
+      than half a lifetime. Isn&rsquo;t it time I had my reward?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He took a quick step towards her. In his tone was the ring of mastery, the
+      light in his eyes was compelling. She shrank back, but he seized one of
+      her hands. It lay between his, a cold dead thing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What have my politics to do with it?&rdquo; he asked fiercely. &ldquo;You are not an
+      Englishwoman. Be content that I shall set you far above these gods of my
+      later life. There is my work to be done, and I shall do it. Let me be
+      judge of these things. Believe me that it is a great work. If you are
+      ambitious&mdash;give your ambitions into my keeping, and I will gratify
+      them. Only I cannot bear this suspense-these changing moods. Marry me-now
+      at once, or send me back to the old life.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She drew her fingers away, and sank down into her easy-chair. Her head was
+      buried in her hands. Was she thinking or weeping? He could not decide.
+      While he hesitated she looked up, and he saw that there was no trace of
+      tears upon her face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are too masterful,&rdquo; she said gently. &ldquo;I will not marry you. I will
+      not give myself body and soul to any man. Yet that is what you ask. I am
+      not a girl. My opinions are as dear to me in their way as yours are to
+      you. You want me to close my eyes while you drop sugar plums into my
+      mouth. That is not my idea of life. I think that you had better go away.
+      Let us forget these things.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;It shall be as you say.&rdquo; He did not wait for
+      her to ring, nor did he attempt any sort of farewell. He simply took up
+      his hat, and before she could realise his intention he had left the room.
+      Lucille sat quite still, looking into the fire.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If only,&rdquo; she murmured, &ldquo;if only this were the end.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XIV
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Duson entered the sitting-room, noiseless as ever, with pale, passionless
+      face, the absolute prototype of the perfect French servant, to whom any
+      expression of vigorous life seems to savour of presumption. He carried a
+      small silver salver, on which reposed a card.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The gentleman is in the ante-room, sir,&rdquo; he announced.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin took up the card and studied it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lord Robert Foulkes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do I know this gentleman, Duson?&rdquo; Mr. Sabin asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not to my knowledge, sir,&rdquo; the man answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You must show him in,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, with a sigh. &ldquo;In this country one
+      must never be rude to a lord.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Duson obeyed. Lord Robert Foulkes was a small young man, very carefully
+      groomed, nondescript in appearance. He smiled pleasantly at Mr. Sabin and
+      drew off his gloves.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How do you do, Mr. Sabin?&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t remember me, I daresay. Met
+      you once or twice last time you were in London. I wish I could say that I
+      was glad to see you here again.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin&rsquo;s forehead lost its wrinkle. He knew where he was now.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sit down, Lord Robert,&rdquo; he begged. &ldquo;I do not remember you, it is true,
+      but I am getting an old man. My memory sometimes plays me strange tricks.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The young man looked at Mr. Sabin and laughed softly. Indeed, Mr. Sabin
+      had very little the appearance of an old man. He was leaning with both
+      hands clasped upon his stick, his face alert, his eyes bright and
+      searching.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You carry your years well, Mr. Sabin. Yet while we are on the subject, do
+      you know that London is the unhealthiest city in the world?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am always remarkably well here,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said drily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;London has changed since your last visit,&rdquo; Lord Robert said, with a
+      gentle smile. &ldquo;Believe me if I say&mdash;as your sincere well-wisher&mdash;that
+      there is something in the air at present positively unwholesome to you. I
+      am not sure that unwholesome is not too weak a word.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is this official?&rdquo; Mr. Sabin asked quietly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The young man fingered the gold chain which disappeared in his trousers
+      pocket.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Need I introduce myself?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Quite unnecessary,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin assured him. &ldquo;Permit me to reflect for a
+      few minutes. Your visit comes upon me as a surprise. Will you smoke? There
+      are cigarettes at your elbow.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am entirely at your service,&rdquo; Lord Robert answered. &ldquo;Thanks, I will try
+      one of your cigarettes. You were always famous for your tobacco.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a short silence. Mr. Sabin had seldom found it more difficult to
+      see the way before him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I imagined,&rdquo; he said at last, &ldquo;from several little incidents which
+      occurred previous to my leaving New York that my presence here was
+      regarded as superfluous. Do you know, I believe that I could convince you
+      to the contrary.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Robert raised his eyebrows.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. dear Mr. Sabin,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;pray reflect. I am a messenger. No more! A
+      hired commissionaire!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin bowed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are an ambassador!&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The young man shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You magnify my position,&rdquo; he declared. &ldquo;My errand is done when I remind
+      you that it is many years since you visited Paris, that Vienna is as
+      fascinating a city as ever, and Pesth a few hours journey beyond. But
+      London&mdash;no, London is not possible for you. After the seventh day
+      from this London would be worse than impossible.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin smoked thoughtfully for a few moments.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lord Robert,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I have, I believe, the right of a personal
+      appeal. I desire to make it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Robert looked positively distressed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear sir,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;the right of appeal, any right of any sort,
+      belongs only to those within the circle.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Exactly,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin agreed. &ldquo;I claim to belong there.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Roberts shrugged his shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You force me to remind you,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;of a certain decree&mdash;a decree
+      of expulsion passed five years ago, and of which I presume due
+      notification was given to you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin shook his head very slowly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I deny the legality of that decree,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;There can be no such thing
+      as expulsion.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There was Lefanu,&rdquo; Lord Robert murmured.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He died,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered. &ldquo;That was reasonable enough.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your services had been great,&rdquo; Lord Robert said, &ldquo;and your fault was but
+      venial.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nevertheless,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;the one was logical, the other is not.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You claim, then,&rdquo; the young man said, &ldquo;to be still within the circle?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are aware that this is a very dangerous claim?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin smiled, but he said nothing. Lord Robert hastened to excuse
+      himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I beg your pardon,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I should have known better than to have
+      used such a word to you. Permit me to take my leave.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin rose.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I thank you, sir,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;for the courteous manner in which you have
+      discharged your mission.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lord Robert bowed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My good wishes,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;are yours.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin when alone called Duson to him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have you any report to make, Duson?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;None, sir!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin dismissed him impatiently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;After all, I am getting old. He is young and he is strong&mdash;a worthy
+      antagonist. Come, let us see what this little volume has to say about
+      him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He turned over the pages rapidly and read aloud.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Reginald Cyril Brott, born 18&mdash;, son of John Reginald Brott, Esq.,
+      of Manchester. Educated at Harrow and Merton College, Cambridge, M.A.,
+      LL.D., and winner of the Rudlock History Prize. Also tenth wrangler.
+      Entered the diplomatic service on leaving college, and served as junior
+      attache at Vienna.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin laid down the volume, and made a little calculation. At the end
+      of it he had made a discovery. His face was very white and set.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was at Petersburg,&rdquo; he muttered. &ldquo;Now I think of it, I heard something
+      of a young English attache. But&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He touched the bell.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Duson, a carriage!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      At Camperdown House he learned that Helene was out&mdash;shopping, the
+      hall porter believed. Mr. Sabin drove slowly down Bond Street, and was
+      rewarded by seeing her brougham outside a famous milliner&rsquo;s. He waited for
+      her upon the pavement. Presently she came out and smiled her greetings
+      upon him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You were waiting for me?&rdquo; she asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I saw your carriage.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How delightful of you. Let me take you back to luncheon.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am afraid,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;that I should be poor company. May I drive home
+      with you, at any rate, when you have finished?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course you may, and for luncheon we shall be quite alone, unless
+      somebody drops in.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He took his seat beside her in the carriage. &ldquo;Helene,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I am
+      interested in Mr. Brott. No, don&rsquo;t look at me like that. You need have no
+      fear. My interest is in him as a man, and not as a politician. The other
+      days are over and done with now. I am on the defensive and hard pressed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her face was bright with sympathy. She forgot everything except her old
+      admiration for him. In the clashing of their wills the victory had
+      remained with her. And as for those things which he had done, the cause at
+      least had been a great one. Her happiness had come to her through him. She
+      bore him no grudge for that fierce opposition which, after all, had been
+      fruitless.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I believe you, UNCLE,&rdquo; she said affectionately. &ldquo;If I can help you in any
+      way I will.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This Mr. Brott! He goes very little into society, I believe.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Scarcely ever,&rdquo; she answered. &ldquo;He came to us because my husband is one of
+      the few Radical peers.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have not heard of any recent change in him&mdash;in this respect?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I did hear Wolfendon chaffing him the other day about somebody,&rdquo;
+       she said. &ldquo;Oh, I know. He has been going often to the Duchess of Dorset&rsquo;s.
+      He is such an ultra Radical, you know, and the Dorsets are fierce Tories.
+      Wolfendon says it is a most unwise thing for a good Radical who wants to
+      retain the confidence of the people to be seen about with a Duchess.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Duchess of Dorset,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin remarked, &ldquo;must be, well&mdash;a
+      middle-aged woman.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Helene laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She is sixty if she is a day. But I daresay she herself is not the
+      attraction. There is a very beautiful woman staying with her&mdash;the
+      Countess Radantz. A Hungarian, I believe.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin sat quite still. His face was turned away from Helene. She
+      herself was smiling out of the window at some acquaintances.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wonder if there is anything more that I can tell you?&rdquo; she asked
+      presently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He turned towards her with a faint smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have told me,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;all that I want to know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She was struck by the change in his face, the quietness of his tone was
+      ominous.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Am I meant to understand?&rdquo; she said dubiously &ldquo;because I don&rsquo;t in the
+      least. It seems to me that have told you nothing. I cannot imagine what
+      Mr. Brott and you have in common.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If your invitation to lunch still holds good,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;may I accept it?
+      Afterwards, if you can spare me a few minutes I will make things quite
+      clear to you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will find,&rdquo; she declared, &ldquo;that I shall leave you little peace for
+      luncheon. I am consumed with curiosity.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XV
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Nevertheless, Mr. Sabin lunched with discretion, as usual, but with no
+      lack of appetite. It chanced that they were alone. Lord Camperdown was
+      down in the Midlands for a day&rsquo;s hunting, and Helene had ensured their
+      seclusion from any one who might drop in by a whispered word to the hall
+      porter as they passed into the house. It seemed to her that she had never
+      found Mr. Sabin more entertaining, had never more appreciated his rare
+      gift of effortless and anecdotal conversation. What a marvelous memory! He
+      knew something of every country from the inside. He had been brought at
+      various times during his long diplomatic career into contact with most of
+      the interesting people in the world. He knew well how to separate the
+      grain from the chaff according to the tastes of his listener. The pathos
+      of his present position appealed to her irresistibly. The possibilities of
+      his life had been so great, fortune had treated him always so strangely.
+      The greatest of his schemes had come so near to success, the luck had
+      turned against him only at the very moment of fruition. Helene felt very
+      kindly towards her UNCLE as she led him, after luncheon, to a quiet corner
+      of the winter garden, where a servant had already arranged a table with
+      coffee and liqueurs and cigarettes. Unscrupulous all his life, there had
+      been an element of greatness in all his schemes. Even his failures had
+      been magnificent, for his successes he himself had seldom reaped the
+      reward. And now in the autumn of his days she felt dimly that he was
+      threatened with some evil thing against which he stood at bay
+      single-handed, likely perhaps to be overpowered. For there was something
+      in his face just now which was strange to her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Helene,&rdquo; he said quietly, &ldquo;I suppose that you, who knew nothing of me
+      till you left school, have looked upon me always as a selfish, passionless
+      creature&mdash;a weaver of plots, perhaps sometimes a dreamer of dreams,
+      but a person wholly self-centred, always self-engrossed?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She shook her head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not selfish!&rdquo; she objected. &ldquo;No, I never thought that. It is the wrong
+      word.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At least,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;you will be surprised to hear that I have loved one
+      woman all my life.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She looked at him half doubtfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;I am surprised to hear that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will surprise you still more. I was married to her in America within a
+      month of my arrival there. We have lived together ever since. And I have
+      been very happy. I speak, of course, of Lucille!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is amazing,&rdquo; she murmured. &ldquo;You must tell me all about it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not all,&rdquo; he answered sadly. &ldquo;Only this. I met her first at Vienna when I
+      was thirty-five, and she was eighteen. I treated her shamefully. Marriage
+      seemed to me, with all my dreams of great achievements, an act of madness.
+      I believed in myself and my career. I believed that it was my destiny to
+      restore the monarchy to our beloved country. And I wanted to be free. I
+      think that I saw myself a second Napoleon. So I won her love, took all
+      that she had to give, and returned nothing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In the course of years she married the son of the American Consul at
+      Vienna. I was obliged, by the bye, to fight her brother, and he carried
+      his enmity to me through life. I saw her sometimes in the course of years.
+      She was always beautiful, always surrounded by a host of admirers, always
+      cold. When the end of my great plans here came, and I myself was a
+      fugitive, her brother found me out. He gave me a letter to deliver in
+      America. I delivered it&mdash;to his sister.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She was as beautiful as ever, and alone in the world. It seemed to me
+      that I realised then how great my folly had been. For always I had loved
+      her, always there had been that jealously locked little chamber in my
+      life. Helene, she pointed no finger of scorn to my broken life. She
+      uttered no reproaches. She took me as I was, and for three years our life
+      together has been to me one long unbroken harmony. Our tastes were very
+      similar. She was well read, receptive, a charming companion. Ennui was a
+      word of which I have forgotten the meaning. And it seemed so with her,
+      too, for she grew younger and more beautiful.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And why is she not with you?&rdquo; Helene cried. &ldquo;I must go and see her. How
+      delightful it sounds!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;One day, about three months ago,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin continued, &ldquo;she left me to go
+      to New York for two days. Her milliner in Paris had sent over, and twice a
+      year Lucille used to buy clothes. I had sometimes accompanied her, but she
+      knew how I detested New York, and this time she did not press me to go.
+      She left me in the highest spirits, as tender and gracefully affectionate
+      as ever. She never returned.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Helene started in her chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, UNCLE!&rdquo; she cried.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have never seen her since,&rdquo; he repeated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have you no clue? She could not have left you willingly. Have you no idea
+      where she is?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He bowed his head slowly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I know where she is. She came to Europe with Lady Carey.
+      She is staying with the Duchess of Dorset.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Countess Radantz?&rdquo; Helene cried.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was her maiden name,&rdquo; he answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a moment&rsquo;s silence. Helene was bewildered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then you have seen her?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He shook his head slowly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No. I did not even know where she was until you told me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But why do you wait a single moment?&rdquo; she asked. &ldquo;There must be some
+      explanation. Let me order a carriage now. I will drive round to Dorset
+      House with you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She half rose. He held out his hand and checked her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There are other things to be explained,&rdquo; he said quickly. &ldquo;Sit down,
+      Helene.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She obeyed him, mystified.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For your own sake,&rdquo; he continued, &ldquo;there are certain facts in connection
+      with this matter which I must withhold. All I can tell you is this. There
+      are people who have acquired a hold upon Lucille so great that she is
+      forced to obey their bidding. Lady Carey is one, the Duchess of Dorset is
+      another. They are no friends of mine, and apparently Lucille has been
+      taken away from me by them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A&mdash;a hold upon her?&rdquo; Helene repeated vaguely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is all I can tell you. You must suppose an extreme case. You may take
+      my word for it that under certain circumstances Lucille would have no
+      power to deny them anything.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But&mdash;without a word of farewell. They could not insist upon her
+      leaving you like that! It is incredible!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is quite possible,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Helene caught herself looking at him stealthily. Was it possible that this
+      wonderful brain had given way at last? There were no signs of it in his
+      face or expression. But the Duchess of Dorset! Lady Carey! These were
+      women of her own circle&mdash;Londoners, and the Duchess, at any rate, a
+      woman of the very highest social position and unimpeached conventionality.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This sounds&mdash;very extraordinary, UNCLE!&rdquo; she remarked a little
+      lamely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is extraordinary,&rdquo; he answered drily. &ldquo;I do not wonder that you find
+      it hard to believe me. I&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not to believe&mdash;to understand!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We will not distinguish! After all, what does it matter? Assume, if you
+      cannot believe, that Lucille&rsquo;s leaving me may have been at the instigation
+      of these people, and therefore involuntary. If this be so I have hard
+      battle to fight to win her back, but in the end I shall do it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She nodded sympathetically.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am sure,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;that you will not find it difficult. Tell me,
+      cannot I help you in any way? I know the Duchess very well indeed&mdash;well
+      enough to take you to call quite informally if you please. She is a great
+      supporter of what they call the Primrose League here. I do not understand
+      what it is all about, but it seems that I may not join because my husband
+      is a Radical.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin looked for a moment over his clasped hands through the faint
+      blue cloud of cigarette smoke, and sundry possibilities flashed through
+      his mind to be at once rejected. He shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No!&rdquo; he said firmly. &ldquo;I do not wish for your help at present, directly or
+      indirectly. If you meet the Countess I would rather that you did not
+      mention my name. There is only one person whom, if you met at Dorset House
+      or anywhere where Lucille is, I would ask you to watch. That is Mr.
+      Brott!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It was to be a conversation full of surprises for Helene. Mr. Brott! Her
+      hand went up to her forehead for a moment, and a little gesture of
+      bewilderment escaped her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will you tell me,&rdquo; she asked almost plaintively, &ldquo;what on earth Mr. Brott
+      can have to do with this business&mdash;with Lucille&mdash;with you&mdash;with
+      any one connected with it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin shrugged his shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Brott,&rdquo; he remarked, &ldquo;a Cabinet Minister of marked Radical
+      proclivities, has lately been a frequent visitor at Dorset House, which is
+      the very home of the old aristocratic Toryism. Mr. Brott was acquainted
+      with Lucille many years ago&mdash;in Vienna. At that time he was, I
+      believe, deeply interested in her. I must confess that Mr. Brott causes me
+      some uneasiness.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think&mdash;that men always know,&rdquo; Helene said, &ldquo;if they care to. Was
+      Lucille happy with you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Absolutely. I am sure of it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then your first assumption must be correct,&rdquo; she declared. &ldquo;You cannot
+      explain things to me, so I cannot help you even with my advice. I am
+      sorry.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He turned his head towards her and regarded her critically, as though
+      making some test of her sincerity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Helene,&rdquo; he said gravely, &ldquo;it is for your own sake that I do not explain
+      further, that I do not make things clearer to you. Only I wanted you to
+      understand why I once more set foot in Europe. I wanted you to understand
+      why I am here. It is to win back Lucille. It is like that with me, Helene.
+      I, who once schemed and plotted for an empire, am once more a schemer and
+      a worker, but for no other purpose than to recover possession of the woman
+      whom I love. You do not recognise me, Helene. I do not recognise myself.
+      Nevertheless, I would have you know the truth. I am here for that, and for
+      no other purpose.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He rose slowly to his feet. She held out both her hands and grasped his.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let me help you,&rdquo; she begged. &ldquo;Do! This is not a matter of politics or
+      anything compromising. I am sure that I could be useful to you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So you can,&rdquo; he answered quietly. &ldquo;Do as I have asked you. Watch Mr.
+      Brott!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XVI
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Brott and Mr. Sabin dined together&mdash;not, as it happened, at the
+      House of Commons, but at the former&rsquo;s club in Pall Mall. For Mr. Sabin it
+      was not altogether an enjoyable meal. The club was large, gloomy and
+      political; the cooking was exactly of that order which such surroundings
+      seemed to require. Nor was Mr. Brott a particularly brilliant host. Yet
+      his guest derived a certain amount of pleasure from the entertainment,
+      owing to Brott&rsquo;s constant endeavours to bring the conversation round to
+      Lucille.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I find,&rdquo; he said, as they lit their cigarettes, &ldquo;that I committed an
+      indiscretion the other day at Camperdown House!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin assumed the puzzled air of one endeavouring to pin down an
+      elusive memory.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let me see,&rdquo; he murmured doubtfully. &ldquo;It was in connection with&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Countess Radantz. If you remember, I told you that it was her desire
+      just now to remain incognito. I, however, unfortunately forgot this during
+      the course of our conversation.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I remember. You told me where she was staying. But the Countess and
+      I are old acquaintances. I feel sure that she did not object to your
+      having given me her address. I could not possibly leave London without
+      calling upon her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Brott moved in his chair uneasily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It seems presumption on my part to make such a suggestion perhaps,&rdquo; he
+      said slowly, &ldquo;but I really believe that the Countess is in earnest with
+      reference to her desire for seclusion just at present. I believe that she
+      is really very anxious that her presence in London, just now should not be
+      generally known.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am such a very old friend,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said. &ldquo;I knew her when she was a
+      child.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Brott nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is very strange,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;that you should have come together again
+      in such a country as America, and in a small town too.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lenox,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;is a small place, but a great center. By the
+      bye, is there not some question of an impending marriage on the part of
+      the Countess?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have heard&mdash;of nothing of the sort,&rdquo; Mr. Brott said, looking up
+      startled. Then, after a moment&rsquo;s pause, during which he studied closely
+      his companion&rsquo;s imperturbable face, he added the question which forced its
+      way to his lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin looked along his cigarette and pinched it affectionately. It was
+      one of his own, which he had dexterously substituted for those which his
+      host had placed at his disposal.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Countess is a very charming, a very beautiful, and a most attractive
+      woman,&rdquo; he said slowly. &ldquo;Her marriage has always seemed to me a matter of
+      certainty.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Brott hesitated, and was lost.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are an old friend of hers,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;You perhaps know more of her
+      recent history than I do. For a time she seemed to drop out of my life
+      altogether. Now that she has come back I am very anxious to persuade her
+      to marry me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A single lightning-like flash in Mr. Sabin&rsquo;s eyes for a moment
+      disconcerted his host. But, after all, it was gone with such amazing
+      suddenness that it left behind it a sense of unreality. Mr. Brott decided
+      that after all it must have been fancy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;May I ask,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said quietly, &ldquo;whether the Countess appears to
+      receive your suit with favour?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Brott hesitated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am afraid I cannot go so far as to say that she does,&rdquo; he said
+      regretfully. &ldquo;I do not know why I find myself talking on this matter to
+      you. I feel that I should apologise for giving such a personal turn to the
+      conversation.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I beg that you will do nothing of the sort,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin protested. &ldquo;I am,
+      as a matter of fact, most deeply interested.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You encourage me,&rdquo; Mr. Brott declared, &ldquo;to ask you a question&mdash;to me
+      a very important question.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It will give me great pleasure,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin assured him, &ldquo;if I am able to
+      answer it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You know,&rdquo; Mr. Brott said, &ldquo;of that portion of her life concerning which
+      I have asked no questions, but which somehow, whenever I think of it,
+      fills me with a certain amount of uneasiness. I refer to the last three
+      years which the Countess has spent in America.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin looked up, and his lips seemed to move, but he said nothing. Mr.
+      Brott felt perhaps that he was on difficult ground.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I recognise the fact,&rdquo; he continued slowly, &ldquo;that you are the friend of
+      the Countess, and that you and I are nothing more than the merest
+      acquaintances. I ask my question therefore with some diffidence. Can you
+      tell me from your recent, more intimate knowledge of the Countess and her
+      affairs, whether there exists any reason outside her own inclinations why
+      she should not accept my proposals of marriage?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin had the air of a man gravely surprised. He shook his head very
+      slightly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You must not ask me such a question as that, Mr. Brott,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;It is
+      not a subject which I could possibly discuss with you. But I have no
+      objection to going so far as this. My experience of the Countess is that
+      she is a woman of magnificent and effective will power. I think if she has
+      any desire to marry you there are or could be no obstacles existing which
+      she would not easily dispose of.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There are obstacles, then?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You must not ask me that,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, with a certain amount of
+      stiffness. &ldquo;The Countess is a very dear friend of mine, and you must
+      forgive me now if I say that I prefer not to discuss her any longer.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A hall servant entered the room, bearing a note for Mr. Brott. He received
+      it at first carelessly, but his expression changed the moment he saw the
+      superscription. He turned a little away, and Mr. Sabin noticed that the
+      fingers which tore open the envelope were trembling. The note seemed short
+      enough, but he must have read it half a dozen times before at last he
+      turned round to the messenger.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is no answer,&rdquo; he said in a low tone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He folded the note and put it carefully into his breast pocket. Mr. Sabin
+      subdued an insane desire to struggle with him and discover, by force, if
+      necessary, who was the sender of those few brief lines. For Mr. Brott was
+      a changed man.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am afraid,&rdquo; he said, turning to his guest, &ldquo;that this has been a very
+      dull evening for you. To tell you the truth, this club is not exactly the
+      haunt of pleasure-seekers. It generally oppresses me for the first hour or
+      so. Would you like a hand at bridge, or a game of billiards? I am wholly
+      at your service&mdash;until twelve o&rsquo;clock.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin glanced at the clock.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are very good,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;but I was never much good at indoor games.
+      Golf has been my only relaxation for many years. Besides, I too have an
+      engagement for which I must leave in a very few minutes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is very good of you,&rdquo; Mr. Brott said, &ldquo;to have given me the pleasure
+      of your company. I have the greatest possible admiration for your niece,
+      Mr. Sabin, and Camperdown is a thundering good fellow. He will be our
+      leader in the House of Lords before many years have passed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is, I believe,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin remarked, &ldquo;of the same politics as
+      yourself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We are both,&rdquo; Mr. Brott answered, with a smile, &ldquo;I am afraid outside the
+      pale of your consideration in this respect. We are both Radicals.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin lit another cigarette and glanced once more at the clock.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A Radical peer!&rdquo; he remarked. &ldquo;Isn&rsquo;t that rather an anomaly? The
+      principles of Radicalism and aristocracy seem so divergent.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yet,&rdquo; Mr. Brott said, &ldquo;they are not wholly irreconcilable. I have often
+      wished that this could be more generally understood. I find myself at
+      times very unpopular with people, whose good opinion I am anxious to
+      retain, simply owing to this too general misapprehension.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin smiled gently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You were referring without doubt&mdash;&rdquo; he began.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To the Countess,&rdquo; Brott admitted. &ldquo;Yes, it is true. But after all,&rdquo; he
+      added cheerfully, &ldquo;I believe that our disagreements are mainly upon the
+      surface. The Countess is a woman of wide culture and understanding. Her
+      mind, too, is plastic. She has few prejudices.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin glanced at the clock for the third time, and rose to his feet.
+      He was quite sure now that the note was from her. He leaned on his stick
+      and took his leave quietly. All the time he was studying his host,
+      wondering at his air of only partially suppressed excitement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I must thank you very much, Mr. Brott,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;for your entertainment.
+      I trust that you will give me an opportunity shortly of reciprocating your
+      hospitality.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The two men parted finally in the hall. Mr. Sabin stepped into his hired
+      carriage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dorset House!&rdquo; he directed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XVII
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This little difference of opinion,&rdquo; the Prince remarked, looking
+      thoughtfully through the emerald green of his liqueur, &ldquo;interests me. Our
+      friend Dolinski here thinks that he will not come because he will be
+      afraid. De Brouillac, on the contrary, says that he will not come because
+      he is too sagacious. Felix here, who knows him best, says that he will not
+      come because he prefers ever to play the game from outside the circle, a
+      looker-on to all appearance, yet sometimes wielding an unseen force. It is
+      a strong position that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille raised her head and regarded the last speaker steadily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I, Prince!&rdquo; she exclaimed, &ldquo;I say that he will come because he is a
+      man, and because he does not know fear.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince of Saxe Leinitzer bowed low towards the speaker.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dear Lucille,&rdquo; he said, so respectfully that the faint irony of his tone
+      was lost to most of those present, &ldquo;I, too, am of your opinion. The man
+      who has a right, real or fancied, to claim you must indeed be a coward if
+      he suffered dangers of any sort to stand in the way. After all, dangers
+      from us! Is it not a little absurd?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille looked away from the Prince with a little shudder. He laughed
+      softly, and drank his liqueur. Afterwards he leaned back for a moment in
+      his chair and glanced thoughtfully around at the assembled company as
+      though anxious to impress upon his memory all who were present. It was a
+      little group, every member of which bore a well-known name. Their host,
+      the Duke of Dorset, in whose splendid library they were assembled, was, if
+      not the premier duke of the United Kingdom, at least one of those whose
+      many hereditary offices and ancient family entitled him to a foremost
+      place in the aristocracy of the world. Raoul de Brouillac, Count of
+      Orleans, bore a name which was scarcely absent from a single page of the
+      martial history of France. The Prince of Saxe Leinitzer kept up still a
+      semblance of royalty in the State which his ancestors had ruled with
+      despotic power. Lady Muriel Carey was a younger daughter of a ducal house,
+      which had more than once intermarried with Royalty. The others, too, had
+      their claims to be considered amongst the greatest families of Europe.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince glanced at his watch, and then at the bridge tables ready set
+      out.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;that a little diversion&mdash;what does our hostess
+      say?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Two sets can start at least,&rdquo; the Duchess said. &ldquo;Lucille and I will stay
+      out, and the Count de Brouillac does not play.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince rose.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is agreed,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Duke, will you honour me? Felix and Dolinski are
+      our ancient adversaries. It should be an interesting trial of strength.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a general movement, a re-arrangement of seats, and a little buzz
+      of conversation. Then silence. Lucille sat back in a great chair, and Lady
+      Carey came over to her side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are nervous to-night, Lucille,&rdquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I am nervous,&rdquo; Lucille admitted. &ldquo;Why not? At any moment he may be
+      here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you care&mdash;so much?&rdquo; Lady Carey said, with a hard little laugh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I care so much,&rdquo; Lucille echoed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey shook out her amber satin skirt and sat down upon a low divan.
+      She held up her hands, small white hands, ablaze with jewels, and looked
+      at them for a moment thoughtfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He was very much in earnest when I saw him at Sherry&rsquo;s in New York,&rdquo; she
+      remarked, &ldquo;and he was altogether too clever for Mr. Horser and our friends
+      there. After all their talk and boasting too. Why, they are ignorant of
+      the very elements of intrigue.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille sighed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;it is different. The Prince and he are ancient rivals,
+      and Raoul de Brouillac is no longer his friend. Muriel, I am afraid of
+      what may happen.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey shrugged her shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is no fool,&rdquo; she said in a low tone. &ldquo;He will not come here with a
+      magistrate&rsquo;s warrant and a policeman to back it up, nor will he attempt to
+      turn the thing into an Adelphi drama. I know him well enough to be sure
+      that he will attempt nothing crude. Lucille, don&rsquo;t you find it
+      exhilarating?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Exhilarating? But why?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It will be a game played through to the end by masters, and you, my dear
+      woman, are the inspiration. I think that it is most fascinating.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille looked sadly into the fire.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;that I am weary of all these things. I seem to have
+      lived such a very long time. At Lenox I was quite happy. Of my own will I
+      would never have left it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey&rsquo;s thin lips curled a little, her blue eyes were full of scorn.
+      She was not altogether a pleasant woman to look upon. Her cheeks were thin
+      and hollow, her eyes a little too prominent, some hidden expression which
+      seemed at times to flit from one to the other of her features suggested a
+      sensuality which was a little incongruous with her somewhat angular figure
+      and generally cold demeanour. But that she was a woman of courage and
+      resource history had proved.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How idyllic!&rdquo; she exclaimed. &ldquo;Positively medieval! Fancy living with one
+      man three years.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, not? I never knew a woman yet however cold however fond of change,
+      who had not at some time or other during her life met a man for whose sake
+      she would have done&mdash;what I did. I have had as many admirers&mdash;as
+      many lovers, I suppose, as most women. But I can truthfully say that
+      during the last three years no thought of one of them has crossed my
+      mind.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey laughed scornfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Upon my word,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;If the Prince had not a temper, and if they
+      were not playing for such ruinous points, I would entertain them all with
+      these delightful confidences. By the bye, the Prince himself was once one
+      of those who fell before your chariot wheels, was he not? Look at him now&mdash;sideways.
+      What does he remind you of?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille raised her eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A fat angel,&rdquo; she answered, &ldquo;or something equally distasteful. How I hate
+      those mild eyes and that sweet, slow smile. I saw him thrash a poor beater
+      once in the Saxe Leinitzer forests. Ugh!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I should not blame him for that,&rdquo; Lady Carey said coldly. &ldquo;I like
+      masterful men, even to the point of cruelty. General Dolinski there
+      fascinates me. I believe that he keeps a little private knout at home for
+      his wife and children. A wicked little contrivance with an ivory handle. I
+      should like to see him use it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille shuddered. This tete-a-tete did not amuse her. She rose and looked
+      over one of the bridge tables for a minute. The Prince, who was dealing,
+      looked up with a smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Be my good angel, Countess,&rdquo; he begged. &ldquo;Fortune has deserted me
+      to-night. You shall be the goddess of chance, and smile your favours upon
+      me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A hard little laugh came from the chair where Lady Carey sat. She turned
+      her head towards them, and there was a malicious gleam in her eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Too late, Prince,&rdquo; she exclaimed. &ldquo;The favours of the Countess are all
+      given away. Lucille has become even as one of those flaxen-haired dolls of
+      your mountain villages. She has given her heart away, and she is sworn to
+      perpetual constancy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The absence,&rdquo; he said, glancing up at the clock, &ldquo;of that most fortunate
+      person should surely count in our favour.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille followed his eyes. The clock was striking ten. She shrugged her
+      shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If the converse also is true, Prince,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;you can scarcely have
+      anything to hope for from me. For by half-past ten he will be here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince picked up his cards and sorted them mechanically.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We shall see,&rdquo; he remarked. &ldquo;It is true, Countess, that you are here, but
+      in this instance you are set with thorns.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To continue the allegory, Prince,&rdquo; she answered, passing on to the next
+      table, &ldquo;also with poisonous berries. But to the hand which has no fear,
+      neither are harmful.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince laid down his hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now I really believe,&rdquo; he said gently, &ldquo;that she meant to be rude.
+      Partner, I declare hearts!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Felix was standing out from the next table whilst his hand was being
+      played by General Dolinski, his partner. He drew her a little on one side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do not irritate Saxe Leinitzer,&rdquo; he whispered. &ldquo;Remember, everything must
+      rest with him. Twice to-night you have brought that smile to his lips, and
+      I never see it without thinking of unpleasant things.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are right,&rdquo; she answered; &ldquo;but I hate him so. He and Muriel Carey
+      seem to have entered into some conspiracy to lead me on to say things
+      which I might regret.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Saxe Leinitzer,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;has never forgotten that he once aspired to be
+      your lover.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He has not failed to let me know it,&rdquo; she answered. &ldquo;He has even dared&mdash;ah!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a sudden stir in the room. The library door was thrown open. The
+      solemn-visaged butler stood upon the threshold.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;His Grace the Duke of Souspennier!&rdquo; he announced.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XVIII
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      There was for the moment a dead silence. The soft patter of cards no
+      longer fell upon the table. The eyes of every one were turned upon the
+      newcomers. And he, leaning upon his stick, looked only for one person, and
+      having found her, took no heed of any one else.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lucille!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She rose from her seat and stood with hands outstretched towards him, her
+      lips parted in a delightful smile, her eyes soft with happiness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Victor, welcome! It is like you to have found me, and I knew that you
+      would come.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He raised her fingers to his lips&mdash;tenderly&mdash;with the grace of a
+      prince, but all the affection of a lover. What he said to her none could
+      hear, for his voice was lowered almost to a whisper. But the colour
+      stained her cheeks, and her blush was the blush of a girl.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A movement of the Duchess recalled him to a sense of his social duty. He
+      turned courteously to her with extended hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I trust,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;that I may be forgiven my temporary fit of
+      aberration. I cannot thank you sufficiently, Duchess, for your kind
+      invitation.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her answering smile was a little dubious.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am sure,&rdquo; she said &ldquo;that we are delighted to welcome back amongst us so
+      old and valued a friend. I suppose you know every one?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin looked searchingly around, exchanging bows with those whose
+      faces were familiar to him. But between him and the Prince of Saxe
+      Leinitzer there passed no pretense at any greeting. The two men eyed one
+      another for a moment coldly. Each seemed to be trying to read the other
+      through.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I believe,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;that I have that privilege. I see, however,
+      that I am interrupting your game. Let me beg you to continue. With your
+      permission, Duchess, I will remain a spectator. There are many things
+      which my wife and I have to say to one another.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince of Saxe Leinitzer laid his cards softly upon the table. He
+      smiled upon Mr. Sabin&mdash;a slow, unpleasant smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think,&rdquo; he said slowly, &ldquo;that our game must be postponed. It is a pity,
+      but I think it had better be so.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It must be entirely as you wish,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered. &ldquo;I am at your
+      service now or later.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince rose to his feet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur le Due de Souspennier,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;what are we to conclude from
+      your presence here this evening?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is obvious,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered. &ldquo;I claim my place amongst you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You claim to be one of us?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ten years ago,&rdquo; the Prince continued, &ldquo;you were granted immunity from all
+      the penalties and obligations which a co-membership with us might involve.
+      This privilege was extended to you on account of certain great operations
+      in which you were then engaged, and the object of which was not foreign to
+      our own aims. You are aware that the period of that immunity is long since
+      past.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin leaned with both hands upon his stick, and his face was like the
+      face of a sphinx. Only Lucille, who knew him best of all those there, saw
+      him wince for a moment before this reminder of his great failure.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am not accustomed,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said quietly, &ldquo;to shirk my share of the
+      work in any undertaking with which I am connected. Only in this case I
+      claim to take the place of the Countess Lucille, my wife. I request that
+      the task, whatever it may be which you have imposed upon her, may be
+      transferred to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince&rsquo;s smile was sweet, but those who knew him best wondered what
+      evil it might betoken for his ancient enemy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You offer yourself, then, as a full member?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Assuredly!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Subject,&rdquo; he drawled, &ldquo;to all the usual pains and privileges?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince played with the cards upon the table. His smooth, fair face was
+      unruffled, almost undisturbed. Yet underneath he was wondering fiercely,
+      eagerly, how this might serve his ends.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The circumstances,&rdquo; he said at last, &ldquo;are peculiar. I think that we
+      should do well to consult together&mdash;you and I, Felix, and Raoul
+      here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The two men named rose up silently. The Prince pointed to a small round
+      table at the farther end of the apartment, half screened off by a
+      curtained recess.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Am I also,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin asked, &ldquo;of your company?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think not,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;In a few moments we will return.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin moved away with a slight enigmatic gesture. Lucille gathered up
+      her skirts, making room for him by her side on a small sofa.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is delightful to see you, Victor,&rdquo; she murmured. &ldquo;It is delightful to
+      know that you trusted me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin looked at her, and the smile which no other woman had ever seen
+      softened for a moment his face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dear Lucille,&rdquo; he murmured, &ldquo;how could you ever doubt it? There was a
+      day, I admit, when the sun stood still, when, if I had felt inclined to
+      turn to light literature, I should have read aloud the Book of Job. But
+      afterwards&mdash;well, you see that I am here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I knew that you would come,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;and yet I knew that it would be a
+      struggle between you and them. For&mdash;the Prince&mdash;&rdquo; she murmured,
+      lowering her voice, &ldquo;had pledged his word to keep us apart.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin raised his head, and his eyes traveled towards the figure of the
+      man who sat with his back to them in the far distant corner of the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Prince,&rdquo; he said softly, &ldquo;is faithful to his ancient enmities.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille&rsquo;s face was troubled. She turned to her companion with a little
+      grimace.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He would have me believe,&rdquo; she murmured, &ldquo;that he is faithful to other
+      things besides his enmities.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am not jealous,&rdquo; he said softly, &ldquo;of the Prince of Saxe Leinitzer!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      As though attracted by the mention of his name, which must, however, have
+      been unheard by him, the Prince at that moment turned round and looked for
+      a moment towards them. He shot a quick glance at Lady Carey. Almost at
+      once she rose from her chair and came across to them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Prince&rsquo;s watch-dog,&rdquo; Lucille murmured. &ldquo;Hateful woman! She is bound
+      hand and foot to him, and yet&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her eyes met his, and he laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Really,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;you and I in our old age might be hero and heroine of
+      a little romance&mdash;the undesiring objects of a hopeless affection!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey sank into a low chair by their side. &ldquo;You two,&rdquo; she said, with
+      a slow, malicious smile, &ldquo;are a pattern to this wicked world. Don&rsquo;t you
+      know that such fidelity is positively sinful, and after three years in
+      such a country too?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is the approach of senility,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered her. &ldquo;I am an old
+      man, Lady Muriel!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She shrugged her shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are like Ulysses,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;The gods, or rather the goddesses, have
+      helped you towards immortality.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered, &ldquo;the most delicious piece of flattery I have
+      ever heard.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Calypso,&rdquo; she murmured, nodding towards Lucille, &ldquo;is by your side.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Really,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin interrupted, &ldquo;I must protest. Lucille and I were
+      married by a most respectable Episcopalian clergyman. We have documentary
+      evidence. Besides, if Lucille is Calypso, what about Penelope?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey smiled thoughtfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have always thought,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;that Penelope was a myth. In your case
+      I should say that Penelope represents a return to sanity&mdash;to the
+      ordinary ways of life.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin and Lucille exchanged swift glances. He raised his eyebrows.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Our little idyll,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;seems to be the sport and buffet of every
+      one. You forget that I am of the old world. I do not understand
+      modernity.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ulysses,&rdquo; she answered, &ldquo;was of the old world, yet he was a wanderer in
+      more senses of the word than one. And there have been times&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her eyes sought his. He ignored absolutely the subtlety of meaning which
+      lurked beneath the heavy drooping eyelids.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;One travels through life,&rdquo; he answered, &ldquo;by devious paths, and a little
+      wandering in the flower-gardens by the way is the lot of every one. But
+      when the journey is over, one&rsquo;s taste for wandering has gone&mdash;well,
+      Ulysses finished his days at the hearth of Penelope.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She rose and walked away. Mr. Sabin sat still and watched her as though
+      listening to the soft sweep of her gown upon the carpet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hateful woman!&rdquo; Lucille exclaimed lightly. &ldquo;To make love, and such love,
+      to one&rsquo;s lawful husband before one&rsquo;s face is a little crude, don&rsquo;t you
+      think?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Too obvious,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;She is playing the Prince&rsquo;s game. Dear me,
+      how interesting this will be soon.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She nodded. A faint smile of bitterness had stolen into her tone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Already,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;you are beginning to scent the delight of the
+      atmosphere. You are stiffening for the fight. Soon&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, no! Don&rsquo;t say it,&rdquo; he whispered, taking her hand. &ldquo;I shall never
+      forget. If the fight seems good to me it is because you are the prize, and
+      after all, you know, to fight for one&rsquo;s womenkind is amongst the primeval
+      instincts.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey, who had been pacing the room restlessly, touching an ornament
+      here, looking at a picture there, came back to them and stood before Mr.
+      Sabin. She had caught his last words.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Primeval instincts!&rdquo; she exclaimed mockingly. &ldquo;What do you know about
+      them, you of all men, a bundle of nerves and brains, with a motor for a
+      heart, and an automatic brake upon your passions? Upon my word, I believe
+      that I have solved the mystery of your perennial youth. You have found a
+      way of substituting machinery for the human organ, and you are wound up to
+      go for ever.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have found me out,&rdquo; he admitted. &ldquo;Professor Penningram of Chicago
+      will supply you too with an outfit. Mention my name if you like. It is a
+      wonderful country America.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince came over to them, fair and bland with no trace upon his smooth
+      features or in his half-jesting tone of any evil things.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Souspennier,&rdquo; he said, holding out his hand, &ldquo;welcome back once more to
+      your old place. I am happy to say that there appears to be no reason why
+      your claim should not be fully admitted.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin rose to his feet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I presume,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;that no very active demands are likely to be made
+      upon my services. In this country more than any other I fear that the
+      possibilities of my aid are scanty.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is a fact,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;which we all appreciate. Upon you at present we
+      make no claim.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a moment&rsquo;s intense silence. A steely light glittered in Mr.
+      Sabin&rsquo;s eyes. He and the Prince alone remained standing. The Duchess of
+      Dorset watched them through her lorgnettes; Lady Carey watched too with an
+      intense eagerness, her eyes alight with mingled cruelty and excitement.
+      Lucille&rsquo;s eyes were so bright that one might readily believe the tears to
+      be glistening beneath.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XIX
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will not pretend,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;to misunderstand you. My help is
+      not required by you in this enterprise, whatever it may be, in which you
+      are engaged. On the contrary, you have tried by many and various ways to
+      keep me at a distance. But I am here, Prince&mdash;here to be dealt with
+      and treated according to my rights.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince stroked his fair moustache.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am a little puzzled,&rdquo; he admitted, &ldquo;as to this&mdash;shall I not call
+      it self-assertiveness?&mdash;on the part of my good friend Souspennier.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will make it quite clear then,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered. &ldquo;Lucille, will you
+      favour me by ringing for your maid. The carriage is at the door.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince held out his hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear Souspennier,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;you must not think of taking Lucille away
+      from us.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Indeed,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered coolly. &ldquo;Why not?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It must be obvious to you,&rdquo; the Prince answered, &ldquo;that we did not send to
+      America for Lucille without an object. She is now engaged in an important
+      work upon our behalf. It is necessary that she should remain under this
+      roof.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I demand,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;that the nature of that necessity should be
+      made clear to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince smiled with the air of one disposed to humour a wilful child.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;You must know very well that I cannot stand here and
+      tell you the bare outline, much less the details of an important movement.
+      To-morrow, at any hour you choose, one from amongst us shall explain the
+      whole matter&mdash;and the part to be borne in it by the Countess!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And to-night?&rdquo; Mr. Sabin asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince shrugged his shoulders and glanced at the clock.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To-night, my dear friend,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;all of us, I believe, go on to a
+      ball at Carmarthen House. It would grieve me also, I am sure, Duke, to
+      seem inhospitable, but I am compelled to mention the fact that the hour
+      for which the carriages have been ordered is already at hand.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin reflected for a few moments.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did I understand you to say,&rdquo; he asked, &ldquo;that the help to be given to you
+      by my wife, Lucille, Duchess of Souspennier, entailed her remaining under
+      this roof?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince smiled seraphically.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is unfortunate,&rdquo; he murmured, &ldquo;since you have been so gallant as to
+      follow her, but it is true! You will understand this perfectly&mdash;to-morrow.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And why should I wait until to-morrow?&rdquo; Mr. Sabin asked coolly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I fear,&rdquo; the Prince said, &ldquo;that it is a matter of necessity.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin glanced for a moment in turn at the faces of all the little
+      company as though seeking to discover how far the attitude of his opponent
+      met with their approval. Lady Carey&rsquo;s thin lips were curved in a smile,
+      and her eyes met his mockingly. The others remained imperturbable. Last of
+      all he looked at Lucille.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It seems,&rdquo; he said, smiling towards her, &ldquo;that I am called upon to pay a
+      heavy entrance fee on my return amongst your friends. But the Prince of
+      Saxe Leinitzer forgets that he has shown me no authority, or given me no
+      valid reason why I should tolerate such flagrant interference with my
+      personal affairs.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To-morrow&mdash;to-morrow, my good sir!&rdquo; the Prince interrupted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No! To-night!&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered sharply. &ldquo;Lucille, in the absence of
+      any reasonable explanation, I challenge the right of the Prince of Saxe
+      Leinitzer to rob me even for an hour of my dearest possession. I appeal to
+      you. Come with me and remain with me until it has been proved, if ever it
+      can be proved, that greater interests require our separation. If there be
+      blame I will take it. Will you trust yourself to me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille half rose, but Lady Carey&rsquo;s hand was heavy upon her shoulder. As
+      though by a careless movement General Dolinski and Raoul de Brouillac
+      altered their positions slightly so as to come between the two. The Duke
+      of Dorset had left the room. Then Mr. Sabin knew that they were all
+      against him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lucille,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;have courage! I wait for you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She looked towards him, and her face puzzled him. For there flashed across
+      the shoulders of these people a glance which was wholly out of harmony
+      with his own state of barely subdued passion&mdash;a glance half tender,
+      half humorous, full of subtle promise. Yet her words were a blow to him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Victor, how is it possible? Believe me, I should come if I could.
+      To-morrow&mdash;very soon, it may be possible. But now. You hear what the
+      Prince says. I fear that he is right!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      To Mr. Sabin the shock was an unexpected one. He had never doubted but
+      that she at least was on his side. Her words found him unprepared, and a
+      moment he showed his discomfiture. His recovery however, was swift and
+      amazing. He bowed to Lucille, and by the time he raised his head even the
+      reproach had gone from his eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dear lady,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I will not venture to dispute your decision.
+      Prince, will you appoint a time to-morrow when this matter shall be more
+      fully explained to me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince&rsquo;s smile was sweetness itself, and his tone very gentle. But Mr.
+      Sabin, who seldom yielded to any passionate impulse, kept his teeth set
+      and his hand clenched, lest the blow he longed to deal should escape him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At midday to-morrow I shall be pleased to receive you,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;The
+      Countess, with her usual devotion and good sense, has, I trust, convinced
+      you that our action is necessary!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To-morrow at midday,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;I will be here. I have the honour
+      to wish you all good-night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      His farewell was comprehensive. He did not even single out Lucille for a
+      parting glance. But down the broad stairs and across the hall of Dorset
+      House he passed with weary steps, leaning heavily upon his stick. It was a
+      heavy blow which had fallen upon him. As yet he scarcely realised it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His carriage was delayed for a few moments, and just as he was entering it
+      a young woman, plainly dressed in black, came hurrying out and slipped a
+      note into his hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pardon, monsieur,&rdquo; she exclaimed, with a smile. &ldquo;I feared that I was too
+      late.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin&rsquo;s fingers closed over the note, and he stepped blithely into the
+      carriage. But when he tore it open and saw the handwriting he permitted
+      himself a little groan of disappointment. It was not from her. He read the
+      few lines and crushed the sheet of paper in his hand.
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+  &ldquo;I am having supper at the Carlton with some friends on our way
+  to C. H.  I want to speak to you for a moment.  Be in the Palm
+  Court at 12.15, but do not recognise me until I come to you.  If
+  possible keep out of sight.  If you should have left my maid will
+  bring this on to your hotel.
+                                                           &ldquo;M. C.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin leaned back in his carriage, and a frown of faint perplexity
+      contracted his forehead.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If I were a younger man,&rdquo; he murmured to himself, &ldquo;I might believe that
+      this woman was really in earnest, as well as being Saxe Leinitzer&rsquo;s
+      jackal. We were friendly enough in Paris that year. She is unscrupulous
+      enough, of course. Always with some odd fancy for the grotesque or
+      unlikely. I wonder&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He pulled the check-string, and was driven to Camperdown House. A great
+      many people were coming and going. Mr. Sabin found Helene&rsquo;s maid, and
+      learnt that her mistress was just going to her room, and would be alone
+      for a few minutes. He scribbled a few words on the back of a card, and was
+      at once taken up to her boudoir.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear UNCLE,&rdquo; Helene exclaimed, &ldquo;you have arrived most opportunely. We
+      have just got rid of a few dinner people, and we are going on to
+      Carmarthen House presently. Take that easy-chair, please, and, light a
+      cigarette. Will you have a liqueur? Wolfendon has some old brandy which
+      every one seems to think wonderful.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are very kind, Helene,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said. &ldquo;I cannot refuse anything
+      which you offer in so charming a manner. But I shall not keep you more
+      than a few minutes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We need not leave for an hour,&rdquo; Helene said, &ldquo;and I am dressed except for
+      my jewels. Tell me, have you seen Lucille? I am so anxious to know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have seen Lucille this evening,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At Dorset House!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Helene sat down, smiling.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do tell me all about it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is very little to tell,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She is with you&mdash;she returns at least!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;She remains at Dorset House.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Helene was silent. Mr. Sabin smoked pensively a moment or two, and sipped
+      the liqueur which Camperdown&rsquo;s own servant had just brought him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is very hard, Helene,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;to make you altogether understand the
+      situation, for there are certain phases of it which I cannot discuss with
+      you at all. I have made my first effort to regain Lucille, and it has
+      failed. It is not her fault. I need not say that it is not mine. But the
+      struggle has commenced, and in the end I shall win.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lucille herself&mdash;&rdquo; Helene began hesitatingly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lucille is, I firmly believe, as anxious to return to me as I am anxious
+      to have her,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Helene threw up her hands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is bewildering,&rdquo; she exclaimed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It must seem so to you,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin admitted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wish that Lucille were anywhere else,&rdquo; Helene said. &ldquo;The Dorset House
+      set, you know, although they are very smart and very exclusive, have a
+      somewhat peculiar reputation. Lady Carey, although she is such a brilliant
+      woman, says and does the most insolent, the most amazing things, and the
+      Prince of Saxe Leinitzer goes everywhere in Europe by the name of the
+      Royal libertine. They are powerful enough almost to dominate society, and
+      we poor people who abide by the conventions are absolutely nowhere beside
+      them. They think that we are bourgeois because we have virtue, and
+      prehistoric because we are not decadent.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Duke&mdash;&rdquo; Mr. Sabin remarked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, the Duke is quite different, of course,&rdquo; Helene admitted. &ldquo;He is a
+      fanatical Tory, very stupid, very blind to anything except his beloved
+      Primrose League. How he came to lend himself to the vagaries of such a set
+      I cannot imagine.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;C&rsquo;est la femme toujours!&rdquo; he remarked. &ldquo;His Grace is, I fear, henpecked,
+      and the Duchess herself is the sport of cleverer people. And now, my dear
+      niece, I see that the time is going. I came to know if you could get me a
+      card for the ball at Carmarthen House to-night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Helene laughed softly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very easily, my dear UNCLE. Lady Carmarthen is Wolfendon&rsquo;s cousin, you
+      know, and a very good friend of mine. I have half a dozen blank cards
+      here. Shall I really see you there?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I believe so,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And Lucille?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is possible.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is nothing I suppose which I can do in the way of intervention, or
+      anything of that sort?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lucille and I are the best of friends,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;Talk to her, if you
+      will. By the bye, is that twelve o&rsquo;clock? I must hurry. Doubtless we shall
+      meet again at the ball.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But Carmarthen House saw nothing of Mr. Sabin that night.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XX
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin from his seat behind a gigantic palm watched her egress from the
+      supper-room with a little group of friends.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They came to a halt in the broad carpeted way only a few feet from him.
+      Lady Carey, in a wonderful green gown, her neck and bosom ablaze with
+      jewels, seemed to be making her farewells.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I must go in and see the De Lausanacs,&rdquo; she exclaimed. &ldquo;They are in the
+      blue room supping with the Portuguese Ambassador. I shall be at Carmarthen
+      House within half an hour&mdash;unless my headache becomes unbearable. Au
+      revoir, all of you. Good-bye, Laura!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her friends passed on towards the great swing doors. Lady Carey retraced
+      her steps slowly towards the supper-room, and made some languid inquiries
+      of the head waiter as to a missing handkerchief. Then she came again
+      slowly down the broad way and reached Mr. Sabin. He rose to his feet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I thank you very much for your note,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;You have something, I
+      believe, to say to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She stood before him for a moment in silence, as though not unwilling that
+      he should appreciate the soft splendour of her toilette. The jewels which
+      encircled her neck were priceless and dazzling; the soft material of her
+      gown, the most delicate shade of sea green, seemed to foam about her feet,
+      a wonderful triumph of allegoric dressmaking. She saw that he was studying
+      her, and she laughed a little uneasily, looking all the time into his
+      eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shockingly overdressed, ain&rsquo;t I?&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;We were going straight to
+      Carmarthen House, you know. Come and sit in this corner for a moment, and
+      order me some coffee. I suppose there isn&rsquo;t any less public place!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I fear not,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;You will perhaps be unobserved behind this
+      palm.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She sank into a low chair, and he seated himself beside her. She sighed
+      contentedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dear me!&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Do men like being run after like this?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin raised his eyebrows.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I understood,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;that you had something to say to me of
+      importance.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She shot a quick look up at him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t be horrid,&rdquo; she said in a low tone. &ldquo;Of course I wanted to see you.
+      I wanted to explain. Give me one of your cigarettes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He laid his case silently before her. She took one and lit it, watching
+      him furtively all the time. The man brought their coffee. The place was
+      almost empty now, and some of the lights were turned down.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is very kind of you,&rdquo; he said slowly, &ldquo;to honour me by so much
+      consideration, but if you have much to say perhaps it would be better if
+      you permitted me to call upon you to-morrow. I am afraid of depriving you
+      of your ball&mdash;and your friends will be getting impatient.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bother the ball&mdash;and my friends,&rdquo; she exclaimed, a certain strained
+      note in her tone which puzzled him. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m not obliged to go to the thing,
+      and I don&rsquo;t want to. I&rsquo;ve invented a headache, and they won&rsquo;t even expect
+      me. They know my headaches.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In that case,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;I am entirely at your service.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She sighed, and looked up at him through a little cloud of tobacco smoke.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What a wonderful man you are,&rdquo; she said softly. &ldquo;You accept defeat with
+      the grace of a victor. I believe that you would triumph as easily with a
+      shrug of the shoulders. Haven&rsquo;t you any feeling at all? Don&rsquo;t you know
+      what it is like to feel?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We both come,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;of a historic race. If ancestry is worth
+      anything it should at least teach us to go about without pinning our
+      hearts upon our sleeves.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But you,&rdquo; she murmured, &ldquo;you have no heart.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He looked down upon her then with still cold face and steady eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Indeed,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;you are mistaken.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She moved uneasily in her chair. She was very pale, except for a faint
+      spot of pink colour in her cheeks.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is very hard to find, then,&rdquo; she said, speaking quickly, her bosom
+      rising and falling, her eyes always seeking to hold his. &ldquo;To-night you see
+      what I have done&mdash;I have, sent away my friends&mdash;and my carriage.
+      They may know me here&mdash;you see what I have risked. And I don&rsquo;t care.
+      You thought to-night that I was your enemy&mdash;and I am not. I am not
+      your enemy at all.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her hand fell as though by accident upon his, and remained there. Mr.
+      Sabin was very nearly embarrassed. He knew quite well that if she were not
+      his enemy at that moment she would be very shortly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lucille,&rdquo; she continued, &ldquo;will blame me too. I cannot help it. I want to
+      tell you that for the present your separation from her is a certain thing.
+      She acquiesces. You heard her. She is quite happy. She is at the ball
+      to-night, and she has friends there who will make it pleasant for her.
+      Won&rsquo;t you understand?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She beat the ground with her foot.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You must understand,&rdquo; she murmured. &ldquo;You are not like these fools of
+      Englishmen who go to sleep when they are married, and wake in the divorce
+      court. For the present at least you have lost Lucille. You heard her
+      choose. She&rsquo;s at the ball to-night&mdash;and I have come here to be with
+      you. Won&rsquo;t you, please,&rdquo; she added, with a little nervous laugh, &ldquo;show
+      some gratitude?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The interruption which Mr. Sabin had prayed for came at last. The
+      musicians had left, and many of the lights had been turned down. An
+      official came across to them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I beg your pardon, sir,&rdquo; he said, addressing Mr. Sabin, &ldquo;but we are
+      closing now, unless you are a guest in the hotel.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am staying here,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered, rising, &ldquo;but the lady&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey interrupted him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am staying here also,&rdquo; she said to the man.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He bowed at once and withdrew. She rose slowly to her feet and laid her
+      fingers upon his arm. He looked steadily away from her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Fortunately,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I have not yet dismissed my own carriage. Permit
+      me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin leaned heavily upon his stick as he slowly made his way along
+      the corridor to his rooms. Things were going ill with him indeed. He was
+      not used to the fear of an enemy, but the memory of Lady Carey&rsquo;s white
+      cheeks and indrawn lips as she had entered his carriage chilled him. Her
+      one look, too, was a threat worse than any which her lips could have
+      uttered. He was getting old indeed, he thought, wearily, when
+      disappointment weighed so heavily upon him. And Lucille? Had he any real
+      fears of her? He felt a little catch in his throat at the bare thought&mdash;in
+      a moment&rsquo;s singular clearness of perception he realised that if Lucille
+      were indeed lost the world was no longer a place for him. So his feet fell
+      wearily upon the thickly carpeted floor of the corridor, and his face was
+      unusually drawn and haggard as he opened the door of his sitting-room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And then&mdash;a transformation, amazing, stupefying. It was Lucille who
+      was smiling a welcome upon him from the depths of his favourite easy-chair&mdash;Lucille
+      sitting over his fire, a novel in her hand, and wearing a delightful
+      rose-pink dressing-gown. Some of her belongings were scattered about his
+      room, giving it a delicate air of femininity. The faint odour of her
+      favourite and only perfume gave to her undoubted presence a wonderful
+      sense of reality.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She held out her hands to him, and the broad sleeves of her dressing-gown
+      fell away from her white rounded arms. Her eyes were wonderfully soft, the
+      pink upon her cheeks was the blush of a girl.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Victor,&rdquo; she murmured, &ldquo;do not look so stupefied. Did you not believe
+      that I would risk at least a little for you, who have risked so much for
+      me? Only come to me! Make the most of me. All sorts of things are sure to
+      happen directly I am found out.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He took her into his arms. It was one of the moments of his lifetime.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tell me,&rdquo; he murmured, &ldquo;how have you dared to do this?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You know the Prince and his set. You know the way they bribe. Intrigues
+      everywhere, new and old overlapping. They have really some reason for
+      keeping you and me apart, but as regards my other movements, I am free
+      enough. And they thought, Victor&mdash;don&rsquo;t be angry&mdash;but I let them
+      think it was some one else. And I stole away from the ball, and they think&mdash;never
+      mind what they think. But you, Victor, are my intrigue, you, my love, my
+      husband!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Then all the fatigue and all the weariness, died away from Mr. Sabin&rsquo;s
+      face. Once more the fire of youth burned in his heart. And Lucille laughed
+      softly as her lips met his, and her head sank upon his shoulder.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXI
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey suddenly dropped her partner&rsquo;s arm. She had seen a man standing
+      by himself with folded arms and moody face at the entrance to the
+      ball-room. She raised her lorgnettes. His identity was unquestionable.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will you excuse me for a moment, Captain Horton,&rdquo; she said to her escort.
+      &ldquo;I want particularly to speak to Mr. Brott.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Captain Horton bowed with the slight disappointment of a hungry man on his
+      way to the supper-room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t be long,&rdquo; he begged. &ldquo;The places are filling up.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey nodded and walked swiftly across to where Brott was standing.
+      He moved eagerly forward to meet her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not dancing, Mr. Brott?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He shrugged his shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This sort of thing isn&rsquo;t much in my way,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;I was rather
+      hoping to see the Countess here. I trust that she is not indisposed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She looked at him steadily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you mean,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;that you do not know where she is?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I?&rdquo; he answered in amazement. &ldquo;How should I? I have not seen her at all
+      this evening. I understood that she was to be here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey hesitated. The man was too honest to be able to lie like this,
+      even in a good cause. She stood quite still for a moment thinking. Several
+      of her dearest friends had already told her that she was looking tired and
+      ill this evening. At that moment she was positively haggard.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have been down at Ranelagh this afternoon,&rdquo; she said slowly, &ldquo;and
+      dining out, so I have not seen Lucille. She was complaining of a headache
+      yesterday, but I quite thought that she was coming here. Have you seen the
+      Duchess?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No. There is such a crowd.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey glanced towards her escort and turned away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will try and find out what has become of her,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t go away
+      yet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She rejoined her escort.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When we have found a table,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;I want you to keep my place for a
+      few moments while I try and find some of my party.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They passed into the supper-room, and appropriated a small table. Lady
+      Carey left her partner, and made her way to the farther end of the
+      apartment, where the Prince of Saxe Leinitzer was supping with half a
+      dozen men and women. She touched him on the shoulder.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I want to speak to you for a moment, Ferdinand,&rdquo; she whispered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He rose at once, and she drew him a little apart.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Brott is here,&rdquo; she said slowly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Brott here!&rdquo; he repeated. &ldquo;And Lucille?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is asking for her&mdash;expected to find her here. He is downstairs
+      now, looking the picture of misery.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He looked at her inquiringly. There was a curious steely light in her
+      eyes, and she was showing her front teeth, which were a little prominent.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you think,&rdquo; he asked, &ldquo;that she has deceived us?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What else? Where are the Dorsets?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Duchess is with the Earl of Condon, and some more people at the round
+      table under the balcony.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Give me your arm,&rdquo; she whispered. &ldquo;We must go and ask her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They crossed the room together. Lady Carey sank into a vacant chair by the
+      side of the Duchess and talked for a few minutes to the people whom she
+      knew. Then she turned and whispered in the Duchess&rsquo;s ear.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where is Lucille?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Duchess looked at her with a meaning smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How should I know? She left when we did.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Alone?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. It was all understood, wasn&rsquo;t it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey laughed unpleasantly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She has fooled us,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Brott is here alone. Knows nothing of
+      her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Duchess was puzzled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I know nothing more than you do,&rdquo; she answered. &ldquo;Are you sure the
+      man is telling the truth?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course. He is the image of despair.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am sure she was in earnest,&rdquo; the Duchess said. &ldquo;When I asked her
+      whether she should come on here she laughed a little nervously, and said
+      perhaps or something of that sort.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The fool may have bungled it,&rdquo; Lady Carey said thoughtfully. &ldquo;I will go
+      back to him. There&rsquo;s that idiot of a partner of mine. I must go and
+      pretend to have some supper.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Captain Horton found his vis-a-vis a somewhat unsatisfactory companion.
+      She drank several glasses of champagne, ate scarcely anything, and rushed
+      him away before he had taken the edge off his appetite. He brought her to
+      the Duchess and went back in a huff to finish his supper alone. Lady Carey
+      went downstairs and discovered Mr. Brott, who had scarcely moved.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have you seen anything of her?&rdquo; she asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He shook his head gloomily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No! It is too late for her to come now, isn&rsquo;t it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Take me somewhere where we can talk,&rdquo; she said abruptly. &ldquo;One of those
+      seats in the recess will do.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He obeyed her, and they found a retired corner. Lady Carey wasted no time
+      in fencing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am Lucille&rsquo;s greatest friend, Mr. Brott, and her confidante,&rdquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So I have understood.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She tells me everything.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He glanced towards her a little uneasily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is comprehensive!&rdquo; he remarked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is true,&rdquo; she answered. &ldquo;Lucille has told me a great deal about your
+      friendship! Come, there is no use in our mincing words. Lucille has been
+      badly treated years ago, and she has a perfect right to seek any
+      consolation she may find. The old fashioned ideas, thank goodness, do not
+      hold any longer amongst us. It is not necessary to tie yourself for life
+      to a man in order to procure a little diversion.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will not pretend to misunderstand you, Lady Carey,&rdquo; he said gravely,
+      &ldquo;but I must decline to discuss the Countess of Radantz in connection with
+      such matters.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, come!&rdquo; she declared impatiently; &ldquo;remember that I am her friend.
+      Yours is quite the proper attitude, but with me it doesn&rsquo;t matter. Now I
+      am going to ask you a plain question. Had you any engagement with Lucille
+      to-night?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She watched him mercilessly. He was colouring like a boy. Lady Carey&rsquo;s
+      thin lips curled. She had no sympathy with such amateurish love-making.
+      Nevertheless, his embarrassment was a great relief to her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She promised to be here,&rdquo; he answered stiffly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Everything depends upon your being honest with me,&rdquo; she continued. &ldquo;You
+      will see from my question that I know. Was there not something said about
+      supper at your rooms before or after the dance?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I cannot discuss this matter with you or any living person,&rdquo; he answered.
+      &ldquo;If you know so much why ask me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey could have shaken the man, but she restrained herself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is sufficient!&rdquo; she declared. &ldquo;What I cannot understand is why you are
+      here&mdash;when Lucille is probably awaiting for you at your rooms.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He started from his chair as though he had been shot.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you mean?&rdquo; he exclaimed. &ldquo;She was to&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He stopped short. Lady Carey shrugged her shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, written you or something, I suppose!&rdquo; she exclaimed. &ldquo;Trust an
+      Englishman for bungling a love affair. All I can tell you is that she left
+      Dorset House in a hansom without the others, and said some thing about
+      having supper with some friends.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Brott sprang to his feet and took a quick step towards the exit.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is not possible!&rdquo; he exclaimed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She took his arm. He almost dragged her along.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, we are going to see,&rdquo; she said coolly. &ldquo;Tell the man to call a
+      hansom.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They drove almost in silence through the Square to Pall Mall. Brott leaped
+      out onto the pavement directly the cab pulled up.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will wait here,&rdquo; Lady Carey said. &ldquo;I only want to know that Lucille is
+      safe.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He disappeared, and she sat forward in the cab drumming idly with her
+      forefingers upon the apron. In a few minutes he came back. His appearance
+      was quite sufficient. He was very pale. The change in him was so ludicrous
+      that she laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Get in,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I am going round to Dorset House. We must find out if
+      we can what has become of her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He obeyed without comment. At Dorset House Lady Carey summoned the
+      Duchess&rsquo;s own maid.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Marie,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;you were attending upon the Countess Radantz
+      to-night?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, my lady.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At what time did she leave?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At about, eleven, my lady.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Alone?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, my lady.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey looked steadily at the girl.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did she take anything with her?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The girl hesitated. Lady Carey frowned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It must be the truth, remember, Marie.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly, my lady! She took her small dressing-case.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey set her teeth hard. Then with a movement of her head she
+      dismissed the maid. She walked restlessly up and down the room. Then she
+      stopped short with a hard little laugh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If I give way like this,&rdquo; she murmured, &ldquo;I shall be positively hideous,
+      and after all, if she was there it was not possible for him&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She stopped short, and suddenly tearing the handkerchief which she had
+      been carrying into shreds threw the pieces upon the floor, and stamped
+      upon them. Then she laughed shortly, and turned towards the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now I must go and get rid of that poor fool outside,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;What a
+      bungler!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Brott was beside himself with impatience.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lucille is here,&rdquo; she announced, stepping in beside him. &ldquo;She has a
+      shocking headache and has gone to bed. As a matter of fact, I believe that
+      she was expecting to hear from you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Impossible!&rdquo; he answered shortly. He was beginning to distrust this
+      woman.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Never mind. You can make it up with her to-morrow. I was foolish to be
+      anxious about her at all. Are you coming in again?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They were at Carmarthen House. He handed her out.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, thanks! If you will allow me I will wish you good-night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She made her way into the ball-room, and found the Prince of Saxe
+      Leinitzer, who was just leaving.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you know where Lucille is?&rdquo; she asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He looked up at her sharply. &ldquo;Where?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At the Carlton Hotel&mdash;with him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He rose to his feet with slow but evil promptitude. His face just then was
+      very unlike the face of an angel. Lady Carey laughed aloud.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Poor man,&rdquo; she said mockingly. &ldquo;It is always the same when you and
+      Souspennier meet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He set his teeth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This time,&rdquo; he muttered, &ldquo;I hold the trumps.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She pointed at the clock. It was nearly four. &ldquo;She was there at eleven,&rdquo;
+       she remarked drily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXII
+    </h2>
+    <h3>
+      &ldquo;His Highness, the Prince of Saxe Leinitzer!&rdquo;
+     </h3>
+    <p>
+      Duson stood away from the door with a low bow. The Prince&mdash;in the
+      buttonhole of whose frock-coat was a large bunch of Russian violets,
+      passed across the threshold. Mr. Sabin rose slowly from his chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I fear,&rdquo; the Prince said suavely, &ldquo;that I am an early visitor. I can only
+      throw myself upon your indulgence and plead the urgency of my mission.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      His arrival appeared to have interrupted a late breakfast of the
+      Continental order. The small table at which Lucille and Mr. Sabin were
+      seated was covered with roses and several dishes of wonderful fruit. A
+      coffee equipage was before Lucille. Mr. Sabin, dressed with his usual
+      peculiar care and looking ten years younger, had just lit a cigarette.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We have been anticipating your visit, Prince,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin remarked, with
+      grim courtesy. &ldquo;Can we offer you coffee or a liqueur?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I thank you, no,&rdquo; the Prince answered. &ldquo;I seldom take anything before
+      lunch. Let me beg that you do not disturb yourselves. With your permission
+      I will take this easy-chair. So! That is excellent. We can now talk
+      undisturbed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin bowed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will find me,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;an excellent listener.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince smiled in an amiable manner. His eyes were fixed upon Lucille,
+      who had drawn her chair a little away from the table. What other woman in
+      the world who had passed her first youth could sit thus in the slanting
+      sunlight and remain beautiful?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will ask you to believe,&rdquo; the Prince said slowly, &ldquo;how sincerely I
+      regret this unavoidable interference in a domestic happiness so touching.
+      Nevertheless, I have come for the Countess. It is necessary that she
+      returns to Dorset House this morning.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will oblige me,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin remarked, &ldquo;by remembering that my wife is
+      the Duchesse de Souspennier, and by so addressing her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince spread out his hands&mdash;a deprecating gesture.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Alas!&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;for the present it is not possible. Until the little
+      affair upon which we are now engaged is finally disposed of it is
+      necessary that Lucille should be known by the title which she bears in her
+      own right, or by the name of her late husband, Mr. James B. Peterson.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That little affair,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin remarked, &ldquo;is, I presume, the matter which
+      you have come to explain to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince smiled and shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Explain! My dear Duke, that is not possible. It is not within your rights
+      to ask questions or to require any explanation as to anything which
+      Lucille is required to do by us. You must remember that our claim upon her
+      comes before yours. It is a claim which she cannot evade or deny. And in
+      pursuance of it, Countess, I deeply regret having to tell you that your
+      presence at Dorset House within the next hour is demanded.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille made no answer, but looked across the table at Mr. Sabin with a
+      little grimace.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is a comedy,&rdquo; she murmured. &ldquo;After all, it is a comedy!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin fingered his cigarette thoughtfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I believe,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;that the Duchess realises her responsibilities in
+      this matter. I myself have no wish to deny them. As ordinary members we
+      are both pledged to absolute obedience. I therefore place no embargo upon
+      the return of my wife to Dorset House. But there are certain conditions,
+      Prince, that considering the special circumstances of the case I feel
+      impelled to propose.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I can recognise,&rdquo; the Prince said, &ldquo;no conditions.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They are very harmless,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin continued calmly. &ldquo;The first is that
+      in a friendly way, and of course under the inviolable law of secrecy, you
+      explain to me for what part Lucille is cast in this little comedy; the
+      next that I be allowed to see her at reasonable intervals, and finally
+      that she is known by her rightful name as Duchesse de Souspennier.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The forced urbanity which the Prince had assumed fell away from him
+      without warning. The tone of his reply was almost a sneer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I repeat,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;that I can recognise no conditions.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is perhaps,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin continued, &ldquo;the wrong word to use. We submit to
+      your authority, but you and I are well aware that your discretionary
+      powers are large. I ask you to use them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I,&rdquo; the Prince said, &ldquo;refuse. Let me add that I intend to prevent any
+      recurrence of your little adventure of last night. Lucille shall not see
+      you again until her task is over. And as for you, my dear Duke, I desire
+      only your absence. I do not wish to hurt your feelings, but your name has
+      been associated in the past with too many failures to inspire us with any
+      confidence in engaging you as an ally. Countess, a carriage from Dorset
+      House awaits you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But Lucille sat still, and Mr. Sabin rose slowly to his feet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I thank you, Prince,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;for throwing away the mask. Fighting is
+      always better without the buttons. It is true that I have failed more than
+      once, but it is also true that my failures have been more magnificent than
+      your waddle across the plain of life. As for your present authority, I
+      challenge you to your face that you are using it to gain your private
+      ends. What I have said to you I shall repeat to those whose place is above
+      yours. Lucille shall go to Dorset House, but I warn you that I hold my
+      life a slight thing where her welfare is concerned. Your hand is upon the
+      lever of a great organization, I am only a unit in the world. Yet I would
+      have you remember that more than once, Prince, when you and I have met
+      with the odds in your favour the victory has been mine. Play the game
+      fairly, and you have nothing to fear from me but the open opposition I
+      have promised you. Bring but the shadow of evil upon her, misuse your
+      power but ever so slightly against her, and I warn you that I shall count
+      the few years of life left to me a trifle&mdash;of less than no account&mdash;until
+      you and I cry quits.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince smiled, a fat, good-natured smile, behind which the malice was
+      indeed well hidden.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come, come, my dear Souspennier,&rdquo; he declared. &ldquo;This is unworthy of you.
+      It is positively melodramatic. It reminds me of the plays of my
+      Fatherland, and of your own Adelphi Theatre. We should be men of the
+      world, you and I. You must take your defeats with your victories. I can
+      assure you that the welfare of the Countess Lucille shall be my special
+      care.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille for the first time spoke. She rose from her chair and rested her
+      hands affectionately upon her husband&rsquo;s shoulder.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dear Victor,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;remember that we are in London, and, need I add,
+      have confidence in me. The Prince of Saxe Leinitzer and I understand one
+      another, I believe. If we do not it is not my fault. My presence here at
+      this moment should prove to you how eagerly I shall look forward to the
+      time when our separation is no longer necessary.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She passed away into the inner room with a little farewell gesture tender
+      and regretful. Mr. Sabin resumed his seat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I believe, Prince,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;that no good can come of any further
+      conference between you and me. We understand one another too well. Might I
+      suggest therefore that you permit me to ring?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince rose to his feet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are right,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;The bandying of words between you and me is a
+      waste of time. We are both of us too old at the game. But come, before I
+      go I will do you a good turn. I will prove that I am in a generous mood.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin shrugged his shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If anything in this world could inspire me with fear,&rdquo; he remarked, &ldquo;it
+      would be the generosity of the Prince of Saxe Leinitzer.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince sighed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You always misunderstand me,&rdquo; he murmured. &ldquo;However, I will prove my
+      words. You spoke of an appeal.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered. &ldquo;I intend to impeach you for making use
+      of the powers entrusted to you for your own private ends&mdash;in other
+      words, for making an arbitrary misuse of your position.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is very well put,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I shall await the result of your appeal
+      in fear and trembling. I confess that I am very much afraid. But, come
+      now, I am going to be generous. I am going to help you on a little. Do you
+      know to whom your appeal must be made?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To the Grand Duke!&rdquo; Mr. Sabin replied.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah me!&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;how long indeed you have been absent from the world.
+      The Grand Duke is no longer the head of our little affair. Shall I tell
+      you who has succeeded him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I can easily find out,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, but I warned you that I was in a generous mood,&rdquo; the Prince said,
+      with a smile. &ldquo;I will save you the trouble. With your permission I will
+      whisper the name in your ear. It is not one which we mention lightly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He stepped forward and bent his head for a moment. Afterwards, as he drew
+      back, the smile upon his lips broadened until he showed all his teeth. It
+      was a veritable triumph. Mr. Sabin, taken wholly by surprise, had not been
+      able to conceal his consternation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is not possible,&rdquo; he exclaimed hoarsely. &ldquo;He would not dare.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But in his heart he knew that the Prince had spoken the truth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0023" id="link2HCH0023">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXIII
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;After all,&rdquo; said the Prince, looking up from the wine list, &ldquo;why cannot I
+      be satisfied with you? And why cannot you be satisfied with me? It would
+      save so much trouble.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey, who was slowly unwinding the white veil from her picture hat,
+      shrugged her shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear man,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;you could not seriously expect me to fall in
+      love with you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince sipped his wine&mdash;a cabinet hock of rare vintage&mdash;and
+      found it good. He leaned over towards his companion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why not?&rdquo; he asked. &ldquo;I wish that you would try&mdash;in earnest, I mean.
+      You are capable of great things, I believe&mdash;perhaps of the great
+      passion itself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps,&rdquo; she murmured derisively.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And yet,&rdquo; he continued, &ldquo;there has always been in our love-making a touch
+      of amateurishness. It is an awkward word, but I do not know how better to
+      explain myself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I understand you perfectly,&rdquo; she answered. &ldquo;I can also, I think, explain
+      it. It is because I never cared a rap about you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince did not appear altogether pleased. He curled his fair
+      moustache, and looked deprecatingly at his companion. She had so much the
+      air of a woman who has spoken the truth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear Muriel!&rdquo; he protested.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She looked at him insolently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My good man,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;whatever you do don&rsquo;t try and be sentimental.
+      You know quite well that I have never in my life pretended to care a rap
+      about you&mdash;except to pass the time. You are altogether too obvious.
+      Very young girls and very old women would rave about you. You simply don&rsquo;t
+      appeal to me. Perhaps I know you too well. What does it matter!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He sighed and examined a sauce critically. They were lunching at Prince&rsquo;s
+      alone, at a small table near the wall.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your taste,&rdquo; he remarked a little spitefully, &ldquo;would be considered a
+      trifle strange. Souspennier carries his years well, but he must be an old
+      man.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She sipped her wine thoughtfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Old or young,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;he is a man, and all my life I have loved men,&mdash;strong
+      men. To have him here opposite to me at this moment, mine, belonging to
+      me, the slave of my will, I would give&mdash;well, I would give&mdash;a
+      year of my life&mdash;my new tiara&mdash;anything!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What a pity,&rdquo; he murmured, &ldquo;that we cannot make an exchange, you and I,
+      Lucille and he!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, Lucille!&rdquo; she murmured. &ldquo;Well, she is beautiful. That goes for much.
+      And she has the grand air. But, heavens, how stupid!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Stupid!&rdquo; he repeated doubtfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She drummed nervously upon the tablecloth with her fingers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, not stupid in the ordinary way, of course, but yet a fool. I should
+      like to see man or devil try and separate us if I belonged to him&mdash;until
+      I was tired of him. That would come, of course. It comes always. It is the
+      hideous part of life.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You look always,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;a little too far forward. It is a mistake.
+      After all, it is the present only which concerns us.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Admirable philosophy,&rdquo; she laughed scornfully, &ldquo;but when one is bored to
+      death in the present one must look forward or backward for consolation.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He continued his lunch in silence for a while.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am rebuked!&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There came a pause in the courses. He looked at her critically. She was
+      very handsomely dressed in a walking costume of dove-coloured grey. The
+      ostrich feathers which drooped from her large hat were almost priceless.
+      She had the undeniable air of being a person of breeding. But she was
+      paler even than usual, her hair, notwithstanding its careful arrangement,
+      gave signs of being a little thin in front. There were wrinkles at the
+      corners of her eyes. She knew these things, but she bore his inspection
+      with indifference.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wonder,&rdquo; he said reflectively, &ldquo;what we men see in you. You have plenty
+      of admirers. They say that Grefton got himself shot out at the front
+      because you treated him badly. Yet&mdash;you are not much to look at, are
+      you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She laughed at him. Hers was never a pleasant laugh, but this time it was
+      at least natural.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How discriminating,&rdquo; she declared. &ldquo;I am an ugly woman, and men of taste
+      usually prefer ugly women. Then I am always well dressed. I know how to
+      wear my clothes. And I have a shocking reputation. A really wicked woman,
+      I once heard pious old Lady Surbiton call me! Dear old thing! It did me no
+      end of good. Then I have the very great advantage of never caring for any
+      one more than a few days together. Men find that annoying.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have violent fancies,&rdquo; he remarked, &ldquo;and strange ones.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps,&rdquo; she admitted. &ldquo;They concern no one except myself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This Souspennier craze, for instance!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, you can&rsquo;t say that I&rsquo;m not honest. It is positively my only virtue.
+      I adore the truth. I loathe a lie. That is one reason, I daresay, why I
+      can only barely tolerate you. You are a shocking&mdash;a gross liar.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Muriel!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, don&rsquo;t look at me like that,&rdquo; she exclaimed irritably. &ldquo;You must hear
+      the truth sometimes. And now, please remember that I came to lunch with
+      you to hear about your visit this morning.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince gnawed his moustache, and the light in his eyes was not a
+      pleasant thing to see. This woman with her reckless life, her odd
+      fascination, her brusque hatred of affectations, was a constant torment to
+      him. If only he could once get her thoroughly into his power.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My visit,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;was wholly successful. It could not well be
+      otherwise. Lucille has returned to Dorset House. Souspennier is confounded
+      altogether by a little revelation which I ventured to make. He spoke of an
+      appeal. I let him know with whom he would have to deal. I left him
+      nerveless and crushed. He can do nothing save by open revolt. And if he
+      tries that&mdash;well, there will be no more of this wonderful Mr. Sabin.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Altogether a triumph to you,&rdquo; she remarked scornfully. &ldquo;Oh, I know the
+      sort of thing. But, after all, my dear Ferdinand, what of last night. I
+      hate the woman, but she played the game, and played it well. We were
+      fooled, both of us. And to think that I&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She broke off with a short laugh. The Prince looked at her curiously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;you had some idea of consoling the desolate husband?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps I had,&rdquo; she answered coolly. &ldquo;It didn&rsquo;t come off, did it? Order
+      me some coffee, and give me a cigarette, my friend. I have something else
+      to say to you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He obeyed her, and she leaned back in the high chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Listen to me,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I have nothing whatever to do with you and
+      Lucille. I suppose you will get your revenge on Souspennier through her.
+      It won&rsquo;t be like you if you don&rsquo;t try, and you ought to have the game
+      pretty well in your own hands. But I won&rsquo;t have Souspennier harmed. You
+      understand?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He shrugged his shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Souspennier,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;must take care. If he oversteps the bounds he
+      must pay the penalty.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She leaned forward. There was a look in her face which he knew very well.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You and I understand one another,&rdquo; she said coolly. &ldquo;If you want me for
+      an enemy you can have me. Very likely I shall tell you before long that
+      you can do what you like with the man. But until I do it will be very
+      dangerous for you if harm comes to him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is no use,&rdquo; he answered doggedly. &ldquo;If he attacks he must be silenced.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If he attacks,&rdquo; she answered, &ldquo;you must give me twenty-four hours clear
+      notice before you move a hand against him. Afterwards&mdash;well, we will
+      discuss that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You had better,&rdquo; he said, looking at her with an ugly gleam in his eyes,
+      &ldquo;persuade him to take you for a little tour on the Continent. It would be
+      safer.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If he would come,&rdquo; she said coolly, &ldquo;I would go to-morrow. But he won&rsquo;t&mdash;just
+      yet. Never mind. You have heard what I wanted to say. Now shall we go? I
+      am going to get some sleep this afternoon. Everybody tells me that I look
+      like a ghost.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why not come to Grosvenor Square with me?&rdquo; he leaning a little across the
+      table. &ldquo;Patoff shall make you some Russian tea, and afterwards you shall
+      sleep as long as you like.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How idyllic!&rdquo; she answered, with a faint sarcastic smile. &ldquo;It goes to my
+      heart to decline so charming an invitation. But, to tell you the truth, it
+      would bore me excessively.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He muttered something under his breath which startled the waiter at his
+      elbow. Then he followed her out of the room. She paused for a few moments
+      in the portico to finish buttoning her gloves.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Many thanks for my lunch,&rdquo; she said, nodding to him carelessly. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m sure
+      I&rsquo;ve been a delightful companion.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have been a very tormenting one,&rdquo; he answered gloomily as he followed
+      her out on to the pavement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You should try Lucille,&rdquo; she suggested maliciously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He stood by her side while they waited for her carriage, and looked at her
+      critically. Her slim, elegant figure had never seemed more attractive to
+      him. Even the insolence of her tone and manner had an odd sort of
+      fascination. He tried to hold for a moment the fingers which grasped her
+      skirt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think,&rdquo; he whispered, &ldquo;that after you Lucille would be dull!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is because Lucille has morals and a conscience,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;and I
+      have neither. But, dear me, how much more comfortably one gets on without
+      them. No, thank you, Prince. My coupe is only built for one. Remember.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She flung him a careless nod from the window. The Prince remained on the
+      pavement until after the little brougham had driven away. Then he smiled
+      softly to himself as he turned to follow it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I think not! I think that she will not get our good friend
+      Souspennier. We shall see!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0024" id="link2HCH0024">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXIV
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      A barely furnished man&rsquo;s room, comfortable, austere, scholarly. The refuge
+      of a busy man, to judge by the piles of books and papers which littered
+      the large open writing-table. There were despatch boxes turned upside
+      down, a sea of parchment and foolscap. In the midst of it all a man deep
+      in thought.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A visitor, entering with the freedom of an old acquaintance, laid his hand
+      upon his shoulder and greeted him with an air of suppressed enthusiasm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Planning the campaign, eh, Brott? Or is that a handbook to Court
+      etiquette? You will need it within the week. There are all sorts of
+      rumours at the clubs.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Brott shook himself free from his fit of apathetic reflection. He would
+      not have dared to tell his visitor where his thoughts had been for the
+      last half hour.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Somehow,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I do not think that little trip to Windsor will come
+      just yet. The King will never send for me unless he is compelled.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      His visitor, an ex-Cabinet Minister, a pronounced Radical and a lifelong
+      friend of Brott&rsquo;s, shrugged his shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That time,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;is very close at hand. He will send for
+      Letheringham first, of course, and great pressure will be brought to bear
+      upon him to form a ministry. But without you he will be helpless. He has
+      not the confidence of the people.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Without me,&rdquo; Brott repeated slowly. &ldquo;You think then that I should not
+      accept office with Letheringham?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      His visitor regarded him steadily for a moment, open-mouthed, obviously
+      taken aback.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Brott, are you in your right senses?&rdquo; he asked incredulously. &ldquo;Do you
+      know what you are saying?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Brott laughed a little nervously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is a great issue, Grahame,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I will confess that I am in an
+      undecided state. I am not sure that the country is in a sufficiently
+      advanced state for our propaganda. Is this really our opportunity, or is
+      it only the shadow of what is to come thrown before? If we show our hand
+      too soon all is lost for this generation. Don&rsquo;t look at me as though I
+      were insane, Grahame. Remember that the country is only just free from a
+      long era of Conservative rule.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The better our opportunity,&rdquo; Grahame answered vigorously. &ldquo;Two decades of
+      puppet government are enervating, I admit, but they only pave the way more
+      surely to the inevitable reaction. What is the matter with you, Brott? Are
+      you ill? This is the great moment of our lives. You must speak at
+      Manchester and Birmingham within this week. Glasgow is already preparing
+      for you. Everything and everybody waits for your judgment. Good God, man,
+      it&rsquo;s magnificent! Where&rsquo;s your enthusiasm? Within a month you must be
+      Prime Minister, and we will show the world the way to a new era.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Brott sat quite still. His friend&rsquo;s words had stirred him for the moment.
+      Yet he seemed the victim of a curious indecision. Grahame leaned over
+      towards him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Brott, old friend,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;you are not ill?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Brott shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am perfectly well,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Grahame hesitated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is a delicate thing to mention,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Perhaps I shall pass even
+      the bounds of our old comradeship. But you have changed. Something is
+      wrong with you. What is it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is nothing,&rdquo; Brott answered, looking up. &ldquo;It is your fancy. I am
+      well enough.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Grahame&rsquo;s face was dark with anxiety.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is no idle curiosity of mine,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;You know me better than
+      that. But the cause which is nearer my heart than life itself is at stake.
+      Brott, you are the people&rsquo;s man, their promised redeemer. Think of them,
+      the toilers, the oppressed, God&rsquo;s children, groaning under the iniquitous
+      laws of generations of evil statesmanship. It is the dawn of their new
+      day, their faces are turned to you. Man, can&rsquo;t you hear them crying? You
+      can&rsquo;t fail them. You mustn&rsquo;t. I don&rsquo;t know what is the matter with you,
+      Brott, but away with it. Free yourself, man.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Brott sighed wearily, but already there was a change in him. His face was
+      hardening&mdash;the lines in his face deepened. Grahame continued hastily&mdash;eagerly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Public men,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;are always at the mercy of the halfpenny press,
+      but you know, Brott, your appearance so often in Society lately has set
+      men&rsquo;s tongues wagging. There is no harm done, but it is time to stop them.
+      You are right to want to understand these people. You must go down amongst
+      them. It has been slumming in Mayfair for you, I know. But have done with
+      it now. It is these people we are going to fight. Let it be open war. Let
+      them hear your programme at Glasgow. We don&rsquo;t want another French
+      Revolution, but it is going to be war against the drones, fierce,
+      merciless war! You must break with them, Brott, once and for ever. And the
+      time is now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Brott held out his hand across the table. No one but this one man could
+      have read the struggle in his face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are right, Grahame. I thank you. I thank you as much for what you
+      have left unsaid as for what you have said. I was a fool to think of
+      compromising. Letheringham is a nerveless leader. We should have gone
+      pottering on for another seven years. Thank God that you came when you
+      did. See here!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He tossed him over a letter. Grahame&rsquo;s cheek paled as he read.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Already!&rdquo; he murmured.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Brott nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Read it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Grahame devoured every word. His eyes lit up with excitement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My prophecy exactly,&rdquo; he exclaimed, laying it down. &ldquo;It is as I said. He
+      cannot form the ministry without you. His letter is abject. He gives
+      himself away. It is an entreaty. And your answer?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Has not yet gone,&rdquo; Brott said. &ldquo;You shall write it yourself if you like.
+      I am thankful that you came when you did.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You were hesitating?&rdquo; Grahame exclaimed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Grahame looked at him in wonder, and Brott faced him sturdily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It seems like treason to you, Grahame!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;So it does to me now. I
+      want nothing in the future to come between us,&rdquo; he continued more slowly,
+      &ldquo;and I should like if I can to expunge the memory of this interview. And
+      so I am going to tell you the truth.&rdquo; Grahame held out his hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I can forget without.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Brott shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;You had better understand everything. The halfpenny press
+      told the truth. Yet only half the truth. I have been to all these places,
+      wasted my time, wasted their time, from a purely selfish reason&mdash;to
+      be near the only woman I have ever cared for, the woman, Grahame!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I knew it,&rdquo; Grahame murmured. &ldquo;I fought against the belief, I thought
+      that I had stifled it. But I knew it all the time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If I have seemed lukewarm sometimes of late,&rdquo; Brott said, &ldquo;there is the
+      cause. She is an aristocrat, and my politics are hateful to her. She has
+      told me so seriously, playfully, angrily. She has let me feel it in a
+      hundred ways. She has drawn me into discussions and shown the utmost
+      horror of my views. I have cared for her all my life, and she knows it.
+      And I think, Grahame, that lately she has been trying constantly,
+      persistently, to tone down my opinions. She has let me understand that
+      they are a bar between us. And it is a horrible confession, Grahame, but I
+      believe that I was wavering. This invitation from Letheringham seemed such
+      a wonderful opportunity for compromise.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This must never go out of the room,&rdquo; Grahame said hoarsely. &ldquo;It would
+      ruin your popularity. They would never trust you again.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shall tell no one else,&rdquo; Brott said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And it is over?&rdquo; Grahame demanded eagerly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is over.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      The Duke of Dorset, who entertained for his party, gave a great dinner
+      that night at Dorset House, and towards its close the Prince of Saxe
+      Leinitzer, who was almost the only non-political guest, moved up to his
+      host in response to an eager summons. The Duke was perturbed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have heard the news, Saxe Leinitzer?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I did not know of any news,&rdquo; the Prince answered. &ldquo;What is it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Brott has refused to join with Letheringham in forming a ministry. It is
+      rumoured even that a coalition was proposed, and that Brott would have
+      nothing to do with it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince looked into his wineglass.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is disturbing news,&rdquo; the Duke continued. &ldquo;You do not seem to
+      appreciate its significance.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince looked up again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps not,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;You shall explain to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Brott refuses to compromise,&rdquo; the Duke said. &ldquo;He stands for a ministry of
+      his own selection. Heaven only knows what mischief this may mean. His
+      doctrines are thoroughly revolutionary. He is an iconoclast with a genius
+      for destruction. But he has the ear of the people. He is to-day their
+      Rienzi.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And Lucille?&rdquo; he remarked. &ldquo;What does she say?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have not spoken to her,&rdquo; the Duke answered. &ldquo;The news has only just
+      come.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We will speak to her,&rdquo; the Prince said, &ldquo;together.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Afterwards in the library there was a sort of informal meeting, and their
+      opportunity came.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So you have failed, Countess,&rdquo; her host said, knitting his grey brows at
+      her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She smilingly acknowledged defeat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I can assure you,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;that I was very near success. Only on
+      Monday he had virtually made up his mind to abandon the extreme party and
+      cast in his lot with Letheringham. What has happened to change him I do
+      not know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince curled his fair moustache.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is a pity,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;that he changed his mind. For one thing is very
+      certain. The Duke and I are agreed upon it. A Brott ministry must never be
+      formed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She looked up quickly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you mean?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince answered her without hesitation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If one course fails,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;another must be adopted. I regret having
+      to make use of means which are somewhat clumsy and obvious. But our
+      pronouncement on this one point is final. Brott must not be allowed to
+      form a ministry.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She looked at him with something like horror in her soft full eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What would you do?&rdquo; she murmured.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince shrugged his shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;we are not quite medieval enough to adopt the only
+      really sensible method and remove Mr. Brott permanently from the face of
+      the earth. We should stop a little short of that, but I can assure you
+      that Mr. Brott&rsquo;s health for the next few months is a matter for grave
+      uncertainty. It is a pity for his sake that you failed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She bit her lip.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you know if he is still in London?&rdquo; she asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He must be on the point of leaving for Scotland,&rdquo; the Duke answered. &ldquo;If
+      he once mounts the platform at Glasgow there will be no further chance of
+      any compromise. He will be committed irretrievably to his campaign of
+      anarchy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And to his own disaster,&rdquo; the Prince murmured.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille remained for a moment deep in thought. Then she looked up.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If I can find him before he starts,&rdquo; she said hurriedly, &ldquo;I will make one
+      last effort.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0025" id="link2HCH0025">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXV
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      He peered forward over his desk at the tall graceful figure whose entrance
+      had been so noiseless, and whose footsteps had been so light that she
+      stood almost within a few feet of him before he was even aware of her
+      presence. Then his surprise was so great that he could only gasp out her
+      name.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You! Lucille!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She smiled upon him delightfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Me! Lucille! Don&rsquo;t blame your servant. I assured him that I was expected,
+      so he allowed me to enter unannounced. His astonishment was a delightful
+      testimony to your reputation, by the bye. He was evidently not used to
+      these invasions.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Brott had recovered himself by this time, and if any emotion still
+      remained he was master of it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You must forgive my surprise!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;You have of course something
+      important to say to me. Will you not loosen your cloak?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She unfastened the clasp and seated herself in his most comfortable chair.
+      The firelight flashed and glittered on the silver ornaments of her dress;
+      her neck and arms, with their burden of jewels, gleamed like porcelain in
+      the semi-darkness outside the halo of his student lamp. And he saw that
+      her dark hair hung low behind in graceful folds as he had once admired it.
+      He stood a little apart, and she noted his traveling clothes and the
+      various signs of a journey about the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You may be glad to see me,&rdquo; she remarked, looking at him with a smile.
+      &ldquo;You don&rsquo;t look it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am anxious to hear your news,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;I am convinced that you
+      have something important to say to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Supposing,&rdquo; she answered, still looking at him steadily, &ldquo;supposing I
+      were to say that I had no object in coming here at all&mdash;that it was
+      merely a whim? What should you say then?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I should take the liberty,&rdquo; he answered quietly, &ldquo;of doubting the
+      evidence of my senses.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a moment&rsquo;s silence. She felt his aloofness. It awoke in her some
+      of the enthusiasm with which this mission itself had failed to inspire
+      her. This man was measuring his strength against hers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was not altogether a whim,&rdquo; she said, her eyes falling from his, &ldquo;and
+      yet&mdash;now I am here&mdash;it does not seem easy to say what was in my
+      mind.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He glanced towards the clock.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I fear,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;that it may sound ungallant, but in case this somewhat
+      mysterious mission of yours is of any importance I had better perhaps tell
+      you that in twenty minutes I must leave to catch the Scotch mail.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She rose at once to her feet, and swept her cloak haughtily around her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have made a mistake,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Be so good as to pardon my intrusion.
+      I shall not trouble you again.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She was half-way across the room. She was at the door, her hand was upon
+      the handle. He was white to the lips, his whole frame was shaking with the
+      effort of intense repression. He kept silence, till only a flutter of her
+      cloak was to be seen in the doorway. And then the cry which he had tried
+      so hard to stifle broke from his lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lucille! Lucille!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She hesitated, and came back&mdash;looking at him, so he thought, with
+      trembling lips and eyes soft with unshed tears.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was a brute,&rdquo; he murmured. &ldquo;I ought to be grateful for this chance of
+      seeing you once more, of saying good-bye to you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good-bye!&rdquo; she repeated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; he said gravely. &ldquo;It must be good-bye. I have a great work before
+      me, and it will cut me off completely from all association with your world
+      and your friends. Something wider and deeper than an ocean will divide us.
+      Something so wide that our hands will never reach across.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You can talk about it very calmly,&rdquo; she said, without looking at him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have been disciplining myself,&rdquo; he answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She rested her face upon her hand, and looked into the fire.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I suppose,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;this means that you have refused Mr.
+      Letheringham&rsquo;s offer.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have refused it,&rdquo; he answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am sorry,&rdquo; she said simply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She rose from her chair with a sudden start, began to draw on her cloak,
+      and then let it fall altogether from her shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why do you do this?&rdquo; she asked earnestly. &ldquo;Is it that you are so
+      ambitious? You used not to be so&mdash;in the old days.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He laughed bitterly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You too, then,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;can remember. Ambitious! Well, why not? To be
+      Premier of England, to stand for the people, to carry through to its
+      logical consummation a bloodless revolution, surely this is worth while.
+      Is there anything in the world better worth having than power?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; she answered, looking him full in the eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is it then? Let me know before it is too late.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Love!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He threw his arms about her. For a moment she was powerless in his grasp.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So be it then,&rdquo; he cried fiercely. &ldquo;Give me the one, and I will deny the
+      other. Only no half measures! I will drink to the bottom of the cup or not
+      at all.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She shook herself free from him, breathless, consumed with an anger to
+      which she dared not give voice. For a moment or two she was speechless.
+      Her bosom rose and fell, a bright streak of colour flared in her cheeks.
+      Brott stood away from her, white and stern.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You&mdash;are clumsy!&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;You frighten me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her words carried no conviction. He looked at her with a new suspicion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You talk like a child,&rdquo; he answered roughly, &ldquo;or else your whole conduct
+      is a fraud. For months I have been your slave. I have abandoned my
+      principles, given you my time, followed at your heels like a tame dog. And
+      for what? You will not marry me, you will not commit yourself to anything.
+      You are a past mistress in the art of binding fools to your chariot
+      wheels. You know that I love you&mdash;that there breathes on this earth
+      no other woman for me but you. I have told you this in all save words a
+      hundred times. And now&mdash;now it is my turn. I have been played with
+      long enough. You are here unbidden&mdash;unexpected. You can consider that
+      door locked. Now tell me why you came.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille had recovered herself. She stood before him, white but calm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;I am a woman.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That means that you came without reason&mdash;on impulse?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I came,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;because I heard that you were about to take a step
+      which must separate us for ever.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And that,&rdquo; he asked, &ldquo;disturbed you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come, we are drawing nearer together,&rdquo; he said, a kindling light in his
+      eyes. &ldquo;Now answer me this. How much do you care if this eternal separation
+      does come? Here am I on the threshold of action. Unless I change my mind
+      within ten minutes I must throw in my lot with those whom you and your
+      Order loathe and despise. There can be no half measures. I must be their
+      leader, or I must vanish from the face of the political world. This I will
+      do if you bid me. But the price must be yourself&mdash;wholly, without
+      reservation&mdash;yourself, body and soul.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You care&mdash;as much as that?&rdquo; she murmured.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ask me no questions, answer mine!&rdquo; he cried fiercely. &ldquo;You shall stay
+      with me here&mdash;or in five minutes I leave on my campaign.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She laughed musically.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is positively delicious,&rdquo; she exclaimed. &ldquo;I am being made love to in
+      medieval fashion. Other times other manners, sir! Will you listen to
+      reason?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will listen to nothing&mdash;save your answer, yes or no,&rdquo; he declared,
+      drawing on his overcoat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She laid her hand upon his shoulder.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Reginald,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;you are like the whirlwind&mdash;and how can I
+      answer you in five minutes!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You can answer me in one,&rdquo; he declared fiercely. &ldquo;Will you pay my price
+      if I do your bidding? Yes or no! The price is yourself. Now! Yes or no?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She drew on her own cloak and fastened the clasp with shaking fingers.
+      Then she turned towards the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wish you good-bye and good fortune, Reginald,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I daresay we
+      may not meet again. It will be better that we do not.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This then is your answer?&rdquo; he cried.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She looked around at him. Was it his fancy, or were those tears in her
+      eyes? Or was she really so wonderful an actress?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you think,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;that if I had not cared I should have come
+      here?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tell me that in plain words,&rdquo; he cried. &ldquo;It is all I ask.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The door was suddenly opened. Grahame stood upon the threshold. He looked
+      beyond Lucille to Brott.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You must really forgive me,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;but there is barely time to catch
+      the train, Brott. I have a hansom waiting, and your luggage is on.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Brott answered nothing. Lucille held out her hands to him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes or no?&rdquo; he asked her in a low hoarse tone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You must&mdash;give me time! I don&rsquo;t want to lose you. I&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He caught up his coat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Coming, Grahame,&rdquo; he said firmly. &ldquo;Countess, I must beg your pardon ten
+      thousand times for this abrupt departure. My servants will call your
+      carriage.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She leaned towards him, beautiful, anxious, alluring.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Reginald!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes or no,&rdquo; he whispered in her ear.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Give me until to-morrow,&rdquo; she faltered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not one moment,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;Yes&mdash;now, this instant&mdash;or I
+      go!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Brott! My dear man, we have not a second to lose.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You hear!&rdquo; he muttered. &ldquo;Yes or no?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She trembled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Give me until to-morrow,&rdquo; she begged. &ldquo;It is for your own sake. For your
+      own safety.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He turned on his heel! His muttered speech was profane, but inarticulate.
+      He sprang into the hansom by Grahame&rsquo;s side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Euston!&rdquo; the latter cried through the trap-door. &ldquo;Double fare, cabby. We
+      must catch the Scotchman.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille came out a few moments later, and looked up and down the street as
+      her brougham drove smartly up. The hansom was fast disappearing in the
+      distance. She looked after it and sighed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0026" id="link2HCH0026">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXVI
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Lucille gave a little start of amazement as she realised that she was not
+      alone in the brougham. She reached out for the check-cord, but a strong
+      hand held hers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear Lucille,&rdquo; a familiar voice exclaimed, &ldquo;why this alarm? Is it your
+      nerves or your eyesight which is failing you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her hand dropped. She turned towards him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is you, then, Prince!&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;But why are you here? I do not
+      understand.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince shrugged his shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is so simple,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;We are all very anxious indeed to hear the
+      result of your interview with Brott&mdash;and apart from that, I
+      personally have too few opportunities to act as your escort to let a
+      chance go by. I trust that my presence is not displeasing to you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She laughed a little uneasily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is at any rate unnecessary,&rdquo; she answered. &ldquo;But since you are here I
+      may as well make my confession. I have failed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is incredible,&rdquo; the Prince murmured.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As you will&mdash;but it is true,&rdquo; she answered. &ldquo;I have done my very
+      best, or rather my worst, and the result has been failure. Mr. Brott has a
+      great friend&mdash;a man named Grahame, whose influence prevailed against
+      mine. He has gone to Scotland.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is serious news,&rdquo; the Prince said quietly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille leaned back amongst the cushions.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;After all,&rdquo; she declared, &ldquo;we are all out of place in this country. There
+      is no scope whatever for such schemes and intrigues as you and all the
+      rest of them delight in. In France and Russia, even in Austria, it is
+      different. The working of all great organisation there is underground&mdash;it
+      is easy enough to meet plot by counterplot, to suborn, to deceive, to
+      undermine. But here all the great games of life seem to be played with the
+      cards upon the table. We are hopelessly out of place. I cannot think,
+      Prince, what ill chance led you to ever contemplate making your
+      headquarters in London.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince stroked his long moustache.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is all very well, Lucille,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;but you must remember that in
+      England we have very large subscriptions to the Order. These people will
+      not go on paying for nothing. There was a meeting of the London branch a
+      few months ago, and it was decided that unless some practical work was
+      done in this country all English subscriptions should cease. We had no
+      alternative but to come over and attempt something. Brott is of course the
+      bete noire of our friends here. He is distinctly the man to be struck at.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And what evil stroke of fortune,&rdquo; Lucille asked, &ldquo;induced you to send for
+      me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is a very cruel speech, dear lady,&rdquo; the Prince murmured.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I hope,&rdquo; Lucille said, &ldquo;that you have never for a moment imagined that I
+      find any pleasure in what I am called upon to do.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why not? It must be interesting. You can have had no sympathy with Brott&mdash;a
+      hopeless plebeian, a very paragon of Anglo-Saxon stupidity?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille laughed scornfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Reginald Brott is a man, at any rate, and an honest one,&rdquo; she answered.
+      &ldquo;But I am too selfish to think much of him. It is myself whom I pity. I
+      have a home, Prince, and a husband. I want them both.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You amaze me,&rdquo; the Prince said slowly. &ldquo;Lucille, indeed, you amaze me.
+      You have been buried alive for three years. Positively we believed that
+      our summons would sound to you like a message from Heaven.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille was silent for a moment. She rubbed the mist from the carriage
+      window and looked out into the streets.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;I hope that you realise now how completely you have
+      misunderstood me. I was perfectly happy in America. I have been perfectly
+      miserable here. I suppose that I have grown too old for intrigues and
+      adventures.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Too old, Lucille,&rdquo; the Prince murmured, leaning a little towards her.
+      &ldquo;Lucille, you are the most beautiful woman in London. Many others may have
+      told you so, but there is no one, Lucille, who is so devotedly, so
+      hopelessly your slave as I.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She drew her hand away, and sat back in her corner. The man&rsquo;s hot breath
+      fell upon her cheek, his eyes seemed almost phosphorescent in the
+      darkness. Lucille could scarcely keep the biting words from her tongue.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You do not answer me, Lucille. You do not speak even a single kind word
+      to me. Come! Surely we are old friends. We should understand one another.
+      It is not a great deal that I ask from your kindness&mdash;not a great
+      deal to you, but it is all the difference between happiness and misery for
+      me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is a very worn-out game, Prince,&rdquo; Lucille said coldly. &ldquo;You have
+      been making love to women in very much the same manner for twenty years,
+      and I&mdash;well, to be frank, I am utterly weary of being made love to
+      like a doll. Laugh at me as you will, my husband is the only man who
+      interests me in the slightest. My failure to-day is almost welcome to me.
+      It has at least brought my work here to a close. Come, Prince, if you want
+      to earn my eternal gratitude, tell me now that I am a free woman.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You give me credit,&rdquo; the Prince said slowly, &ldquo;for great generosity. If I
+      let you go it seems to me that I shall lose you altogether. You will go to
+      your husband. He will take you away!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why not?&rdquo; Lucille asked. &ldquo;I want to go. I am tired of London. You cannot
+      lose what you never possessed&mdash;what you never had the slightest
+      chance of possessing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince laughed softly&mdash;not a pleasant laugh, not even a mirthful
+      one.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dear lady,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;you speak not wisely. For I am very much in earnest
+      when I say that I love you, and until you are kinder to me I shall not let
+      you go.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is rather a dangerous threat, is it not?&rdquo; Lucille asked. &ldquo;You dare
+      to tell me openly that you will abuse your position, that you will keep me
+      bound a servant to the cause, because of this foolish fancy of yours?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince smiled at her through the gloom&mdash;a white, set smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is no foolish fancy, Lucille. You will find that out before long. You
+      have been cold to me all your life. Yet you would find me a better friend
+      than enemy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If I am to choose,&rdquo; she said steadily, &ldquo;I shall choose the latter.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As you will,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;In time you will change your mind.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The carriage had stopped. The Prince alighted and held out his hand.
+      Lucille half rose, and then with her foot upon the step she paused and
+      looked around.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where are we?&rdquo; she exclaimed. &ldquo;This is not Dorset House.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, we are in Grosvenor Square,&rdquo; the Prince answered. &ldquo;I forgot to tell
+      you that we have a meeting arranged for here this evening. Permit me.&rdquo; But
+      Lucille resumed her seat in the carriage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is your house, is it not?&rdquo; she asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. My house assuredly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well,&rdquo; Lucille said. &ldquo;I will come in when the Duchess of Dorset
+      shows herself at the window or the front door&mdash;or Felix, or even De
+      Brouillae.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince still held open the carriage door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They will all be here,&rdquo; he assured her. &ldquo;We are a few minutes early.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then I will drive round to Dorset House and fetch the Duchess. It is only
+      a few yards.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince hesitated. His cheeks were very white, and something like a
+      scowl was blackening his heavy, insipid face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lucille,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;you are very foolish. It is not much I ask of you,
+      but that little I will have or I pledge my word to it that things shall go
+      ill with you and your husband. There is plain speech for you. Do not be
+      absurd. Come within, and let us talk. What do you fear? The house is full
+      of servants, and the carriage can wait for you here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille smiled at him&mdash;a maddening smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am not a child,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;and such conversations as I am forced to
+      hold with you will not be under your own roof. Be so good as to tell the
+      coachman to drive to Dorset House.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince turned on his heel with a furious oath.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He can drive you to Hell,&rdquo; he answered thickly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille found the Duchess and Lady Carey together at Dorset House. She
+      looked from one to the other.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I thought that there was a meeting to-night,&rdquo; she remarked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Duchess shook her head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not to-night,&rdquo; she answered. &ldquo;It would not be possible. General Dolinski
+      is dining at Marlborough House, and De Broullae is in Paris. Now tell us
+      all about Mr. Brott.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He has gone to Scotland,&rdquo; Lucille answered. &ldquo;I have failed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey looked up from the depths of the chair in which she was
+      lounging.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And the prince?&rdquo; she asked. &ldquo;He went to meet you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He also failed,&rdquo; Lucille answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0027" id="link2HCH0027">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXVII
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Mr. SABIN drew a little breath, partly of satisfaction because he had
+      discovered the place he sought, and partly of disgust at the neighbourhood
+      in which he found himself. Nevertheless, he descended three steps from the
+      court into which he had been directed, and pushed open the swing door,
+      behind which Emil Sachs announced his desire to supply the world with
+      dinners at eightpence and vin ordinaire at fourpence the small bottle.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A stout black-eyed woman looked up at his entrance from behind the
+      counter. The place was empty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What does monsieur require she asked, peering forward through the gloom
+      with some suspicion. For the eightpenny dinners were the scorn of the
+      neighbourhood, and strangers were rare in the wine shop of Emil Sachs.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;One of your excellent omelettes, my good Annette,&rdquo; he answered, &ldquo;if your
+      hand has not lost its cunning!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She gave a little cry.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is monsieur!&rdquo; she exclaimed. &ldquo;After all these years it is monsieur!
+      Ah, you will pardon that I did not recognise you. This place is a cellar.
+      Monsieur has not changed. In the daylight one would know him anywhere.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The woman talked fast, but even in that dim light Mr. Sabin knew quite
+      well that she was shaking with fear. He could see the corners of her mouth
+      twitch. Her black eyes rolled incessantly, but refused to meet his. Mr.
+      Sabin frowned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are not glad to see me, Annette!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She leaned over the counter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For monsieur&rsquo;s own sake,&rdquo; she whispered, &ldquo;go!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin stood quite still for a short space of time.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Can I rest in there for a few minutes?&rdquo; he asked, pointing to the door
+      which led into the room beyond.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The woman hesitated. She looked up at the clock and down again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Emil will return,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;at three. Monsieur were best out of the
+      neighbourhood before then. For ten minutes it might be safe.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin passed forward. The woman lifted the flap of the counter and
+      followed him. Within was a smaller room, far cleaner and better appointed
+      than the general appearance of the place promised. Mr. Sabin seated
+      himself at one of the small tables. The linen cloth, he noticed, was
+      spotless, the cutlery and appointments polished and clean.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This, I presume,&rdquo; he remarked, &ldquo;is not where you serve the eightpenny
+      table d&rsquo;hote?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The woman shrugged her shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But it would not be possible,&rdquo; she answered. &ldquo;We have no customers for
+      that. If one arrives we put together a few scraps. But one must make a
+      pretense. Monsieur understands?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will take,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;a small glass of fin champagne.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She vanished, and reappeared almost immediately with the brandy in a
+      quaintly cut liqueur glass. A glance at the clock as she passed seemed to
+      have increased her anxiety.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If monsieur will drink his liqueur and depart,&rdquo; she prayed. &ldquo;Indeed, it
+      will be for the best.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin set down his glass. His steadfast gaze seemed to reduce Annette
+      into a state of nervous panic.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Annette,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;they have placed me upon the list.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is true, monsieur,&rdquo; she answered. &ldquo;Why do you come here?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wanted to know first for certain that they had ventured so far,&rdquo; Mr.
+      Sabin said. &ldquo;I believe that I am only the second person in this country
+      who has been so much honoured.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The woman drew nearer to him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;your only danger is to venture into such parts as
+      these. London is so safe, and the law is merciless. They only watch. They
+      will attempt nothing. Do not leave England. There is here no machinery of
+      criminals. Besides, the life of monsieur is insured.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Insured?&rdquo; Mr. Sabin remarked quietly. &ldquo;That is good news. And who pays
+      the premium?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A great lady, monsieur! I know no more. Monsieur must go indeed. He has
+      found his way into the only place in London where he is not safe.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin rose.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are expecting, perhaps,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;one of my friends from the&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She interrupted him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is true,&rdquo; she declared. &ldquo;He may be here at any instant. The time is
+      already up. Oh, monsieur, indeed, indeed it would not do for him to find
+      you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin moved towards the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are perhaps right,&rdquo; he said regretfully, &ldquo;although I should much like
+      to hear about this little matter of life insurance while I am here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Indeed, monsieur,&rdquo; Annette declared, &ldquo;I know nothing. There is nothing
+      which I can tell monsieur.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin suddenly leaned forward. His gaze was compelling. His tone was
+      low but terrible.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Annette,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;obey me. Send Emil here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The woman trembled, but she did not move. Mr. Sabin lifted his forefinger
+      and pointed slowly to the door. The woman&rsquo;s lips parted, but she seemed to
+      have lost the power of speech.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Send Emil here!&rdquo; Mr. Sabin repeated slowly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Annette turned and left the room, groping her way to the door as though
+      her eyesight had become uncertain. Mr. Sabin lit a cigarette and looked
+      for a moment carefully into the small liqueur glass out of which he had
+      drunk.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That was unwise,&rdquo; he said softly to himself. &ldquo;Just such a blunder might
+      have cost me everything.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He held it up to the light and satisfied himself that no dregs remained.
+      Then he took from his pocket a tiny little revolver, and placing it on the
+      table before him, covered it with his handkerchief. Almost immediately a
+      door at the farther end of the room opened and closed. A man in dark
+      clothes, small, unnaturally pale, with deep-set eyes and nervous,
+      twitching mouth, stood before him. Mr. Sabin smiled a welcome at him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good-morning, Emil Sachs,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I am glad that you have shown
+      discretion. Stand there in the light, please, and fold your arms. Thanks.
+      Do not think that I am afraid of you, but I like to talk comfortably.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am at monsieur&rsquo;s service,&rdquo; the man said in a low tone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Exactly. Now, Emil, before starting to visit you I left a little note
+      behind addressed to the chief of the police here&mdash;no, you need not
+      start&mdash;to be sent to him only if my return were unduly delayed. You
+      can guess what that note contained. It is not necessary for us to revert
+      to&mdash;unpleasant subjects.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man moistened his dry lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is not necessary,&rdquo; he repeated. &ldquo;Monsieur is as safe here&mdash;from
+      me&mdash;as at his own hotel.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Excellent!&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said. &ldquo;Now listen, Emil. It has pleased me chiefly,
+      as you know, for the sake of your wife, the good Annette, to be very
+      merciful to you as regards the past. But I do not propose to allow you to
+      run a poison bureau for the advantage of the Prince of Saxe Leinitzer and
+      his friends&mdash;more especially, perhaps, as I am at present upon his
+      list of superfluous persons.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man trembled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;the Prince knows as much as you know, and he has not
+      the mercy that one shows to a dog.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will find,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;that if you do not obey me, I myself can
+      develop a similar disposition. Now answer me this! You have within the
+      last few days supplied several people with that marvelous powder for the
+      preparation of which you are so justly famed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Several&mdash;no, monsieur! Two only.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Their names?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man trembled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If they should know!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They will not, Emil. I will see to that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The first I supplied to the order of the Prince.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good! And the second?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To a lady whose name I do not know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin raised his eyebrows.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is not that,&rdquo; he remarked, &ldquo;a little irregular?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The lady wrote her request before me in the yellow crayon. It was
+      sufficient.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you do not know her name, Emil?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, monsieur. She was dark and tall, and closely veiled. She was here but
+      a few minutes since.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dark and tall!&rdquo; Mr. Sabin repeated to himself thoughtfully. &ldquo;Emil, you
+      are telling me the truth?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do not dare to tell you anything else, monsieur,&rdquo; the man answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin did not continue his interrogations for a few moments. Suddenly
+      he looked up.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Has that lady left the place yet, Emil?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, monsieur!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have you a back exit?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;None that the lady would know of,&rdquo; Emil answered. &ldquo;She must pass along
+      the passage which borders this apartment, and enter the bar by a door from
+      behind. If monsieur desires it, it is impossible for her to leave
+      unobserved.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is excellent, Emil,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said. &ldquo;Now there is one more question&mdash;quite
+      a harmless one. Annette spoke of my life being in some way insured.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is true, monsieur,&rdquo; Emil admitted. &ldquo;A lady who also possessed the
+      yellow crayon came here the day that&mdash;that monsieur incurred the
+      displeasure of&mdash;of his friends. She tried to bribe me to blow up my
+      laboratory and leave the country, or that I should substitute a harmless
+      powder for any required by the Prince. I was obliged to refuse.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And then?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then she promised me a large sum if you were alive in six months, and
+      made me at once a payment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dear me,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;this is quite extraordinary.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I can tell monsieur the lady&rsquo;s name,&rdquo; Emil continued, &ldquo;for she raised her
+      veil, and everywhere the illustrated papers have been full of her picture.
+      It was the lady who was besieged in a little town of South Africa, and who
+      carried despatches for the general, disguised as a man.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lady Carey!&rdquo; Mr. Sabin remarked quietly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That was the lady&rsquo;s name,&rdquo; Emil agreed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin was thoughtful for a few moments. Then he looked up.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Emil Sachs,&rdquo; he said sternly, &ldquo;you have given out at least one portion of
+      your abominable concoction which is meant to end my days. Whether I shall
+      escape it or not remains to be seen. I am forced at the best to discharge
+      my servant, and to live the life of a hunted man. Now you have done enough
+      mischief in the world. To-morrow morning a messenger will place in your
+      hands two hundred pounds. A larger sum will await you at Baring&rsquo;s Bank in
+      New York. You will go there and buy a small restaurant in the business
+      quarter. This is your last chance, Emil. I give it to you for the sake of
+      Annette.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I accept it, monsieur, with gratitude.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For the present&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin stopped short. His quick ears had caught the swish of woman&rsquo;s
+      gown passing along the passage outside. Emil too had heard it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is the dark lady,&rdquo; he whispered, &ldquo;who purchased from me the other
+      powder. See, I open gently this door. Monsieur must both see and hear.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The door at the end of the passage was opened. A woman stepped out into
+      the little bar and made her way towards the door. Here she was met by a
+      man entering. Mr. Sabin held up his forefinger to stop the terrified
+      exclamation which trembled on Emil&rsquo;s lips. The woman was Lucille, the man
+      the Prince. It was Lucille who was speaking.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have followed me, Prince. It is intolerable.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dear Lucille, it is for your own sake. These are not fit parts for you to
+      visit alone.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is my own business,&rdquo; she answered coldly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince appeared to be in a complaisant mood.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;the affair is not worth a quarrel. I ask you no
+      questions. Only since we are here I propose that we test the cooking of
+      the good Annette. We will lunch together.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What, here?&rdquo; she answered. &ldquo;Absurd.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By no means,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;As you doubtless know, the exterior of the
+      place is entirely misleading. These people are old servants of mine. I can
+      answer for the luncheon.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You can also eat it,&rdquo; came the prompt reply. &ldquo;I am returning to the
+      carriage.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin emerged through the swing door. &ldquo;Your discretion, my dear
+      Lucille,&rdquo; he said, smiling, &ldquo;is excellent. The place is indeed better than
+      it seems, and Annette&rsquo;s cookery may be all that the Prince claims. Yet I
+      think I know better places for a luncheon party, and the ventilation is
+      not of the best. May I suggest that you come with me instead to the
+      Milan?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Victor! You here?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin smiled as he admitted the obvious fact. The Prince&rsquo;s face was as
+      black as night.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Believe me,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, turning to the Prince, &ldquo;I sympathise
+      entirely with your feelings at the present moment. I myself have suffered
+      in precisely the same manner. The fact is, intrigue in this country is
+      almost an impossibility. At Paris, Vienna, Pesth, how different! You raise
+      your little finger, and the deed is done. Superfluous people&mdash;like
+      myself&mdash;are removed like the hairs from your chin. But here intrigue
+      seems indeed to exist only within the pages of a shilling novel, or in a
+      comic opera. The gentleman with a helmet there, who regards us so
+      benignly, will presently earn a shilling by calling me a hansom. Yet in
+      effect he does me a far greater service. He stands for a multitude of cold
+      Anglo-Saxon laws, adamant, incorruptible, inflexible&mdash;as certain as
+      the laws of Nature herself. I am quite aware that by this time I ought to
+      be lying in a dark cellar with a gag in my mouth, or perhaps in the river
+      with a dagger in my chest. But here in England, no!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince smiled&mdash;to all appearance a very genial smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are right, my dear friend,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;yet what you say possesses,
+      shall we call it, a somewhat antediluvian flavour. Intrigue is no longer a
+      clumsy game of knife and string and bowl. It becomes to-day a game of
+      finesse. I can assure you that I have no desire to give a stage whistle
+      and have you throttled at my feet. On the contrary, I beg you to use my
+      carriage, which you will find in the street. You will lunch at the Milan
+      with Lucille, and I shall retire discomfited to eat alone at my club. But
+      the game is a long one, my dear friend. The new methods take time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This conversation,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said to Lucille, &ldquo;is interesting, but it is
+      a little ungallant. I think that we will resume it at some future
+      occasion. Shall we accept the Prince&rsquo;s offer, or shall we be truly
+      democratic and take a hansom.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille passed her arm through his and laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are robbing the Prince of me,&rdquo; she declared. &ldquo;Let us leave him his
+      carriage.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She nodded her farewells to Saxe Leinitzer, who took leave of them with a
+      low bow. As they waited at the corner for a hansom Mr. Sabin glanced back.
+      The Prince had disappeared through the swing doors.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I want you to promise me one thing,&rdquo; Lucille said earnestly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is promised,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will not ask me the reason of my visit to this place?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have no curiosity,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered. &ldquo;Come!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0028" id="link2HCH0028">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXVIII
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin, contrary to his usual custom, engaged a private room at the
+      Milan. Lucille was in the highest spirits.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If only this were a game instead of reality!&rdquo; she said, flashing a
+      brilliant smile at him across the table, &ldquo;I should find it most
+      fascinating. You seem to come to me always when I want you most. And do
+      you know, it is perfectly charming to be carried off by you in this
+      manner.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin smiled at her, and there was a look in his eyes which shone
+      there for no other woman.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is in effect,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;keeping me young. Events seem to have
+      enclosed us in a curious little cobweb. All the time we are struggling
+      between the rankest primitivism and the most delicate intrigue. To-day is
+      the triumph of primitivism.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Meaning that you, the medieval knight, have carried me off, the
+      distressed maiden, on your shoulder.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Having confounded my enemy,&rdquo; he continued, smiling, &ldquo;by an embarrassing
+      situation, a little argument, and the distant view of a policeman&rsquo;s
+      helmet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This,&rdquo; she remarked, with a little satisfied sigh as she selected an
+      ortolan, &ldquo;is a very satisfactory place to be carried off to. And you,&rdquo; she
+      added, leaning across the table and touching his fingers for a moment
+      tenderly, &ldquo;are a very delightful knight-errant.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He raised the fingers to his lips&mdash;the waiter had left the room. She
+      blushed, but yielded her hand readily enough.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Victor,&rdquo; she murmured, &ldquo;you would spoil the most faithless woman on earth
+      for all her lovers. You make me very impatient.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Impatience, then,&rdquo; he declared, &ldquo;must be the most infectious of fevers.
+      For I too am a terrible sufferer.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If only the Prince,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;would be reasonable.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am afraid,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered, &ldquo;that from him we have not much to hope
+      for.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yet,&rdquo; she continued, &ldquo;I have fulfilled all the conditions. Reginald Brott
+      remains the enemy of our cause and Order. Yet some say that his influence
+      upon the people is lessened. In any case, my work is over. He began to
+      mistrust me long ago. To-day I believe that mistrust is the only feeling
+      he has in connection with me. I shall demand my release.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am afraid,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;that Saxe Leinitzer has other reasons for
+      keeping you at Dorset House.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She shrugged her shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He has been very persistent even before I left Vienna. But he must know
+      that it is hopeless. I have never encouraged him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am sure of it,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said. &ldquo;It is the incorrigible vanity of the
+      man which will not be denied. He has been taught to believe himself
+      irresistible. I have never doubted you for a single moment, Lucille. I
+      could not. But you have been the slave of these people long enough. As you
+      say, your task is over. Its failure was always certain. Brott believes in
+      his destiny, and it will be no slight thing which will keep him from
+      following it. They must give you back to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We will go back to America,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I have never been so happy as at
+      Lenox.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nor I,&rdquo; Mr. Sahin said softly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Besides,&rdquo; she continued, &ldquo;the times have changed since I joined the
+      Society. In Hungary you know how things were. The Socialists were carrying
+      all before them, a united solid body. The aristocracy were forced to enter
+      into some sort of combination against them. We saved Austria, I am not
+      sure that we did not save Russia. But England is different. The
+      aristocracy here are a strong resident class. They have their House of
+      Lords, they own the land, and will own it for many years to come, their
+      position is unassailable. It is the worst country in Europe for us to work
+      in. The very climate and the dispositions of the people are inimical to
+      intrigue. It is Muriel Carey who brought the Society here. It was a
+      mistake. The country is in no need of it. There is no scope for it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If only one could get beyond Saxe Leinitzer,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She shook her head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Behind him,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;there is only the one to whom all reference is
+      forbidden. And there is no man in the world who would be less likely to
+      listen to an appeal from you&mdash;or from me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;After all,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;though Saxe Leinitzer is our enemy, I am not
+      sure that he can do us any harm. If he declines to release you&mdash;well,
+      when the twelve months are up you are free whether he wishes it or not. He
+      has put me outside the pale. But this is not, or never was, a vindictive
+      Society. They do not deal in assassinations. In this country at least
+      anything of the sort is rarely attempted. If I were a young man with my
+      life to live in the capitals of Europe I should be more or less a social
+      outcast, I suppose. But I am proof against that sort of thing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille looked a little doubtful.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Prince,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;is an intriguer of the old school. I know that in
+      Vienna he has more than once made use of more violent means than he would
+      dare to do here. And there is an underneath machinery very seldom used, I
+      believe, and of which none of us who are ordinary members know anything at
+      all, which gives him terrible powers.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin nodded grimly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was worked against me in America,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;but I got the best of it.
+      Here in England I do not believe that he would dare to use it. If so, I
+      think that before now it would have been aimed at Brott. I have just read
+      his Glasgow speech. If he becomes Premier it will lead to something like a
+      revolution.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She sighed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Brott is a clever man, and a strong man,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I am sorry for him,
+      but I do not believe that he will never become Prime Minister of England.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin sipped his wine thoughtfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I believe,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;that intrigue is the resource of those who have
+      lived their lives so quickly that they have found weariness. For these
+      things to-day interest me very little. I am only anxious to have you back
+      again, Lucille, to find ourselves on our way to our old home.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She laughed softly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I used to think,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;that after all I could only keep you a
+      little time&mdash;that presently the voices from the outside world would
+      come whispering in your ears, and you would steal back again to where the
+      wheels of life were turning.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A man,&rdquo; he answered, &ldquo;is not easily whispered out of Paradise.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She laughed at him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, it is so easy,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;to know that your youth was spent at a
+      court.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is only one court,&rdquo; he answered, &ldquo;where men learn to speak the
+      truth.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She leaned back in her chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, you are incorrigible,&rdquo; she said softly. &ldquo;The one role in life in
+      which I fancied you ill at ease you seem to fill to perfection.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And that?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are an adorable husband!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I should like,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;a better opportunity to prove it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let us hope,&rdquo; she murmured, &ldquo;that our separation is nearly over. I shall
+      appeal to the Prince to-night. My remaining at Dorset House is no longer
+      necessary.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shall come,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;and demand you in person.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She shook her head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No! They would not let you in, and it would make it more difficult. Be
+      patient a little longer.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He came and sat by her side. She leaned over to meet his embrace.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You make patience,&rdquo; he murmured, &ldquo;a torture!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin walked home to his rooms late in the afternoon, well content on
+      the whole with his day. He was in no manner prepared for the shock which
+      greeted him on entering his sitting-room. Duson was leaning back in his
+      most comfortable easy-chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Duson!&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said sharply. &ldquo;What does this mean?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was no answer. Mr. Sabin moved quickly forward, and then stopped
+      short. He had seen dead men, and he knew the signs. Duson was stone dead.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin&rsquo;s nerve answered to this demand upon it. He checked his first
+      impulse to ring the bell, and looked carefully on the table for some note
+      or message from the dead man. He found it almost at once&mdash;a large
+      envelope in Duson&rsquo;s handwriting. Mr. Sabin hastily broke the seal and
+      read:
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+  &ldquo;Monsieur,&mdash;I kill myself because it is easiest and best.  The
+  poison was given me for you, but I have not the courage to become
+  a murderer, or afterwards to conceal my guilt.  Monsieur has been
+  a good master to me, and also Madame la Comtesse was always
+  indulgent and kind.  The mistake of my life has been the joining
+  the lower order of the Society.  The money which I have received
+  has been but a poor return for the anxiety and trouble which have
+  come upon me since Madame la Comtesse left America.  Now that I
+  seek shelter in the grave I am free to warn Monsieur that the
+  Prince of S. L. is his determined and merciless enemy, and that
+  he has already made an unlawful use of his position in the Society
+  for the sake of private vengeance.  If monsieur would make a
+  powerful friend he should seek the Lady Muriel Carey.
+
+  &ldquo;Monsieur will be so good as to destroy this when read.  My will
+  is in my trunk.
+                                 &ldquo;Your Grace&rsquo;s faithful servant,
+                                         &ldquo;Jules Duson.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin read this letter carefully through to the end. Then he put it
+      into his pocket-book and quickly rang the bell.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You had better send for a doctor at once,&rdquo; he said to the waiter who
+      appeared. &ldquo;My servant appears to have suffered from some sudden illness. I
+      am afraid that he is quite dead.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0029" id="link2HCH0029">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXIX
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You spoke, my dear Lucille,&rdquo; the Duchess of Dorset said, &ldquo;of your
+      departure. Is not that a little premature?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille shrugged her beautiful shoulders, and leaned back in her corner of
+      the couch with half-closed eyes. The Duchess, who was very Anglo-Saxon,
+      was an easy person to read, and Lucille was anxious to know her fate.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why premature?&rdquo; she asked. &ldquo;I was sent for to use my influence with
+      Reginald Brott. Well, I did my best, and I believe that for days it was
+      just a chance whether I did not succeed. However, as it happened, I
+      failed. One of his friends came and pulled him away just as he was
+      wavering. He has declared himself now once and for all. After his speech
+      at Glasgow he cannot draw back. I was brought all the way from America,
+      and I want to go back to my husband.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Duchess pursed her lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When one has the honour, my dear,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;of belonging to so
+      wonderful an organisation as this we must not consider too closely the
+      selfish claims of family. I am sure that years ago I should have laughed
+      at any one who had told me that I, Georgina Croxton, should ever belong to
+      such a thing as a secret society, even though it had some connection with
+      so harmless and excellent an organisation as the Primrose League.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It does seem remarkable,&rdquo; Lucille murmured.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But look what terrible times have come upon us,&rdquo; the Duchess continued,
+      without heeding the interruption. &ldquo;When I was a girl a Radical was a
+      person absolutely without consideration. Now all our great cities are
+      hot-beds of Socialism and&mdash;and anarchism. The whole country seems
+      banded together against the aristocracy and the landowners. Combination
+      amongst us became absolutely necessary in some shape or form. When the
+      Prince came and began to drop hints about the way the spread of Socialism
+      had been checked in Hungary and Austria, and even Germany, I was
+      interested from the first. And when he went further, and spoke of the
+      Society, it was I who persuaded Dorset to join. Dear man, he is very
+      earnest, but very slow, and very averse to anything at all secretive. I am
+      sure the reflection that he is a member of a secret society, even although
+      it is simply a linking together of the aristocracy of Europe in their own
+      defence, has kept him awake for many a night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille was a little bored.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Society,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;is an admirable one enough, but just now I am
+      beginning to feel it a little exacting. I think that the Prince expects a
+      good deal of one. I shall certainly ask for my release to-night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Duchess looked doubtful.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Release!&rdquo; she repeated. &ldquo;Come, is that not rather an exaggerated
+      expression? I trust that your stay at Dorset House has not in any way
+      suggested an imprisonment.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;On the contrary,&rdquo; Lucille answered; &ldquo;you and the Duke have been most
+      kind. But you must remember that I have home of my own&mdash;and a husband
+      of my own.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have no doubt,&rdquo; the Duchess said, &ldquo;that you will be able to return to
+      them some day. But you must not be impatient. I do not think that the
+      Prince has given up all hopes of Reginald Brott yet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille was silent. So her emancipation was to be postponed. After all, it
+      was what she had feared. She sat watching idly the Duchess&rsquo;s knitting
+      needles. Lady Carey came sweeping in, wonderful in a black velvet gown and
+      a display of jewels almost barbaric.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;On my way to the opera,&rdquo; she announced. &ldquo;The Maddersons sent me their
+      box. Will any of you good people come? What do you say, Lucille?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille shook her head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My toilette is deficient,&rdquo; she said; &ldquo;and besides, I am staying at home
+      to see the Prince. We expect him this evening.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You&rsquo;ll probably be disappointed then,&rdquo; Lady Carey remarked, &ldquo;for he&rsquo;s
+      going to join us at the opera. Run and change your gown. I&rsquo;ll wait.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you sure that the Prince will be there?&rdquo; Lucille asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certain.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then I will come,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;if the Duchess will excuse me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Duchess and Lady Carey were left alone for a few minutes. The former
+      put down her knitting.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why do we keep that woman here,&rdquo; she asked, &ldquo;now that Brott has broken
+      away from her altogether?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey laughed meaningly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Better ask the Prince,&rdquo; she remarked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Duchess frowned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear Muriel,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;I think that you are wrong to make such
+      insinuations. I am sure that the Prince is too much devoted to our cause
+      to allow any personal considerations to intervene.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey yawned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Rats!&rdquo; she exclaimed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Duchess took up her knitting, and went on with it without remark. Lady
+      Carey burst out laughing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t look so shocked,&rdquo; she exclaimed. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s funny. I can&rsquo;t help being a
+      bit slangy. You do take everything so seriously. Of course you can see
+      that the Prince is waiting to make a fool of himself over Lucille. He has
+      been trying more or less all his life.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He may admire her,&rdquo; the Duchess said. &ldquo;I am sure that he would not allow
+      that to influence him in his present position. By the bye, she is anxious
+      to leave us now that the Brott affair is over. Do you think that the
+      Prince will agree?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey&rsquo;s face hardened.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am sure that he will not,&rdquo; she said coolly. &ldquo;There are reasons why she
+      may not at present be allowed to rejoin her husband.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Duchess used her needles briskly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For my part,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;I can see no object in keeping her here any
+      longer. Mr. Brott has shown himself quite capable of keeping her at arm&rsquo;s
+      length. I cannot see what further use she is.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey heard the flutter of skirts outside and rose.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There are wheels within wheels,&rdquo; she remarked. &ldquo;My dear Lucille, what a
+      charming toilette. We shall have the lady journalists besieging us in our
+      box. Paquin, of course. Good-night, Duchess. Glad to see you&rsquo;re getting on
+      with the socks, or stockings, do you call them?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Insolent aristocratic, now and then attractive in some strange suggestive
+      way, Lady Carey sat in front of the box and exchanged greetings with her
+      friends. Presently the Prince came in and took the chair between the two
+      women. Lady Carey greeted him with a nod.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here&rsquo;s Lucille dying to return to her lawful husband,&rdquo; she remarked. &ldquo;Odd
+      thing, isn&rsquo;t it? Most of the married women I ever knew are dying to get
+      away from theirs. You can make her happy or miserable in a few moments.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince leaned over between them, but he looked only at Lucille.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wish that I could,&rdquo; he murmured. &ldquo;I wish that that were within my
+      power.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is,&rdquo; she answered coolly. &ldquo;Muriel is quite right. I am most anxious to
+      return to my husband.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince said nothing. Lady Carey, glancing towards him at that moment,
+      was surprised at certain signs of disquietude in his face which startled
+      her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is the matter with you?&rdquo; she asked almost roughly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Matter with me? Nothing,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;Why this unaccustomed
+      solicitude?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey looked into his face fiercely. He was pale, and there was a
+      strained look about his eyes. He seemed, too, to be listening. From
+      outside in the street came faintly to their ears the cry of a newsboy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Get me an evening paper,&rdquo; she whispered in his ear.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He got up and left the box. Lucille was watching the people below and had
+      not appreciated the significance of what had been passing between the two.
+      Lady Carey leaned back in the box with half-closed eyes. Her fingers were
+      clenched nervously together, her bosom was rising and falling quickly. If
+      he had dared to defy her! What was it the newsboys were calling? What a
+      jargon! Why did not Saxe Leinitzer return? Perhaps he was afraid! Her
+      heart stood still for a moment, and a little half-stifled cry broke from
+      her lips. Lucille looked around quickly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is the matter, Muriel?&rdquo; she asked. &ldquo;Are you faint?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Faint, no,&rdquo; Lady Carey answered roughly. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m quite well. Don&rsquo;t take any
+      notice of me. Do you hear? Don&rsquo;t look at me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille obeyed. Lady Carey sat quite still with her hand pressed to her
+      side. It was a stifling pain. She was sure that she had heard at last.
+      &ldquo;Sudden death of a visitor at the Carlton Hotel.&rdquo; The place was beginning
+      to go round.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Saxe Leinitzer returned. His face to her seemed positively ghastly. He
+      carried an evening paper in his hand. She snatched it away from him. It
+      was there before her in bold, black letters:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sudden death in the Carlton Hotel.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her eyes, dim a moment ago, suddenly blazed fire upon him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It shall be a life for a life,&rdquo; she whispered. &ldquo;If you have killed him
+      you shall die.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille looked at them bewildered. And just then came a sharp tap at the
+      box door. No one answered it, but the door was softly opened. Mr. Sabin
+      stood upon the threshold.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pray, don&rsquo;t let me disturb you,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I was unable to refrain from
+      paying you a brief visit. Why, Prince, Lady Carey! I can assure you that I
+      am no ghost.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He glanced from one to the other with a delicate smile of mockery parting
+      his thin lips. For upon the Prince&rsquo;s forehead the perspiration stood out
+      like beads, and he shrank away from Mr. Sabin as from some unholy thing.
+      Lady Carey had fallen back across her chair. Her hand was still pressed to
+      her side, and her face was very pale. A nervous little laugh broke from
+      her lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0030" id="link2HCH0030">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXX
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin found a fourth chair, and calmly seated himself by Lucille&rsquo;s
+      side. But his eyes were fixed upon Lady Carey. She was slowly recovering
+      herself, but Mr. Sabin, who had never properly understood her attitude
+      towards him, was puzzled at the air of intense relief which almost shone
+      in her face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You seem&mdash;all of you,&rdquo; he remarked suavely, &ldquo;to have found the music
+      a little exciting. Wagner certainly knew how to find his way to the
+      emotions. Or perhaps I interrupted an interesting discussion?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille smiled gently upon him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;These two,&rdquo; she said, looking from the Prince to Lady Carey, &ldquo;seem to
+      have been afflicted with a sudden nervous excitement, and yet I do not
+      think that they are, either of them, very susceptible to music.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey leaned forward, and looked at him from behind the large fan of
+      white feathers which she was lazily fluttering before her face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your entrance,&rdquo; she murmured, &ldquo;was most opportune, besides being very
+      welcome. The Prince and I were literally&mdash;on the point of flying at
+      one another&rsquo;s throats.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin glanced at his neighbour and smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are certainly a little out of sorts, Saxe Leinitzer,&rdquo; he remarked.
+      &ldquo;You look pale, and your hands are not quite steady. Nerves, I suppose.
+      You should see Dr. Carson in Brook Street.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince shrugged his shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My health,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;was never better. It is true that your coming was
+      somewhat of a surprise,&rdquo; he added, looking steadily at Mr. Sabin. &ldquo;I
+      understood that you had gone for a short journey, and I was not expecting
+      to see you back again so soon.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Duson,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;has taken that short journey instead. It was
+      rather a liberty, but he left a letter for me fully explaining his
+      motives. I cannot blame him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince stroked his moustache.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; he remarked. &ldquo;That is a pity. You may, however, find it politic,
+      even necessary, to join him very shortly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin smiled grimly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shall go when I am ready,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;not before!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille looked from one to the other with protesting eyebrows.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;it is very impolite of you to talk in riddles before my
+      face. I have been flattering myself, Victor, that you were here to see me.
+      Do not wound my vanity.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He whispered something in her ear, and she laughed softly back at him. The
+      Prince, with the evening paper in his hand, escaped from the box, and
+      found a retired spot where he could read the little paragraph at his
+      leisure. Lady Carey pretended to be absorbed by the music.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Has anything happened, Victor?&rdquo; Lucille whispered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He hesitated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, in a sense, yes,&rdquo; he admitted. &ldquo;I appear to have become unpopular
+      with our friend, the Prince. Duson, who has always been a spy upon my
+      movements, was entrusted with a little sleeping draught for me, which he
+      preferred to take himself. That is all.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Duson is&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is dead!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille went very pale.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is horrible!&rdquo; she murmured
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Prince is a little annoyed, naturally,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said. &ldquo;It is vexing
+      to have your plans upset in such a manner.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She shuddered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is hateful! Victor, I fear that he does not mean to let me leave
+      Dorset House just yet. I am almost inclined to become, like you, an
+      outcast. Who knows&mdash;we might go free. Bloodshed is always avoided as
+      much as possible, and I do not see how else they could strike at me.
+      Social ostracism is their chief weapon. But in America that could not hurt
+      us.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not yet,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I am sure that Saxe Leinitzer is not playing the
+      game. But he is too well served here to make defiance wise.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You run the risk yourself,&rdquo; she protested.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is a different matter. By the bye, we are overheard.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey had forgotten to listen any more to the music. She was watching
+      them both, a steely light in her eyes, her fingers nervously entwined. The
+      Prince was still absent.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pray do not consider me,&rdquo; she begged. &ldquo;So far as I am concerned, your
+      conversation is of no possible interest. But I think you had better
+      remember that the Prince is in the corridor just outside.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We are much obliged to you,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said. &ldquo;The Prince may hear every
+      word I have to say about him. But all the same, I thank you for your
+      warning.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I fear that we are very unsociable, Muriel,&rdquo; Lucille said, &ldquo;and, after
+      all, I should never have been here but for you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey turned her left shoulder upon them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I beg,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;that you will leave me alone with the music. I prefer
+      it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince suddenly stood upon the threshold. His hand rested lightly upon
+      the arm of another man.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come in, Brott,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;The women will be charmed to see you. And I
+      don&rsquo;t suppose they&rsquo;ve read your speeches. Countess, here is the man who
+      counts all equal under the sun, who decries class, and recognises no
+      social distinctions. Brott was born to lead a revolution. He is our
+      natural enemy. Let us all try to convert him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Brott was pale, and deep new lines were furrowed on his face. Nevertheless
+      he smiled faintly as he bowed over Lucille&rsquo;s fingers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My introduction,&rdquo; he remarked, &ldquo;is scarcely reassuring. Yet here at
+      least, if anywhere in the world, we should all meet upon equal ground.
+      Music is a universal leveler.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And we haven&rsquo;t a chance,&rdquo; Lady Carey remarked with uplifted eyebrows, &ldquo;of
+      listening to a bar of it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille welcomed the newcomer coldly. Nevertheless, he manoeuvred himself
+      into the place by her side. She took up her fan and commenced swinging it
+      thoughtfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are surprised to see me here?&rdquo; he murmured.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes!&rdquo; she admitted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He looked wearily away from the stage up into her face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I too,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I am surprised to find myself here!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I pictured you,&rdquo; she remarked, &ldquo;as immersed in affairs. Did I not hear
+      something of a Radical ministry with you for Premier?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It has been spoken of,&rdquo; he admitted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then I really cannot see,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;what you are doing here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why not?&rdquo; he asked doggedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She shrugged her shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In the first place,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;you ought to be rushing about amongst
+      your supporters, keeping them up to the mark, and all that sort of thing.
+      And in the second&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are we not the very people against whom you have declared war?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have declared war against no people,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;It is systems and
+      classes, abuses, injustice against which I have been forced to speak. I
+      would not deprive your Order of a single privilege to which they are
+      justly entitled. But you must remember that I am a people&rsquo;s man. Their
+      cause is mine. They look to me as their mouthpiece.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille shrugged her shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You cannot evade the point,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;If you are the, what do you call
+      it, the mouthpiece of the people, I do not see how you can be anything
+      else than the enemy of the aristocracy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The aristocracy? Who are they?&rdquo; he asked. &ldquo;I am the enemy of all those
+      who, because they possess an ancient name and inherited wealth, consider
+      themselves the God-appointed bullies of the poor, dealing them out meagre
+      charities, lordly patronage, an unspoken but bitter contempt. But the
+      aristocracy of the earth are not of such as these. Your class are
+      furnishing the world with advanced thinkers every year, every month!
+      Inherited prejudices can never survive the next few generations. The
+      fusion of classes must come.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She shook her head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are sanguine, my friend,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Many generations have come and
+      gone since the wonderful pages of history were opened to us. And during
+      all these years how much nearer have the serf and the aristocrat come
+      together? Nay, have they not rather drifted apart?... But listen! This is
+      the great chorus. We must not miss it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So the Prince has brought back the wanderer,&rdquo; Lady Carey whispered to Mr.
+      Sabin behind her fan. &ldquo;Hasn&rsquo;t he rather the air of a sheep who has strayed
+      from the fold?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin raised the horn eyeglass, which he so seldom used, and
+      contemplated Brott steadily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He reminds me more than ever,&rdquo; he remarked, &ldquo;of Rienzi. He is like a man
+      torn asunder by great causes. They say that his speech at Glasgow was the
+      triumph of a born orator.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey shrugged her shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was practically the preaching a revolution to the people,&rdquo; she said.
+      &ldquo;A few more such, and we might have the red flag waving. He left Glasgow
+      in a ferment. If he really comes into power, what are we to expect?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To the onlookers,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin remarked, &ldquo;a revolution in this country
+      would possess many interesting features. The common people lack the
+      ferocity of our own rabble, but they are even more determined. I may yet
+      live to see an English Duke earning an honest living in the States.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It depends very much upon Brott,&rdquo; Lady Carey said. &ldquo;For his own sake it
+      is a pity that he is in love with Lucille.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin agreed with her blandly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is,&rdquo; he affirmed, &ldquo;a most regrettable incident.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She leaned a little towards him. The box was not a large one, and their
+      chairs already touched.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you a jealous husband?&rdquo; she asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Horribly,&rdquo; he answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your devotion to Lucille, or rather the singleness of your devotion to
+      Lucille,&rdquo; she remarked, &ldquo;is positively the most gauche thing about you. It
+      is&mdash;absolutely callow!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He laughed gently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did I not always tell you,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;that when I did marry I should make
+      an excellent husband?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are at least,&rdquo; she answered sharply, &ldquo;a very complaisant one.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince leaned forward from the shadows of the box.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I invite you all,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;to supper with me. It is something of an
+      occasion, this! For I do not think that we shall all meet again just as we
+      are now for a very long time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your invitation,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin remarked, &ldquo;is most agreeable. But your
+      suggestion is, to say the least of it, nebulous. I do not see what is to
+      prevent your all having supper with me to-morrow evening.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey laughed as she rose, and stretched out her hand for her cloak.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To-morrow evening,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;is a long way off. Let us make sure of
+      to-night&mdash;before the Prince changes his mind.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin bowed low.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To-night by all means,&rdquo; he declared. &ldquo;But my invitation remains&mdash;a
+      challenge!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0031" id="link2HCH0031">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXXI
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The Prince, being host, arranged the places at his supper-table. Mr. Sabin
+      found himself, therefore, between Lady Carey and a young German attache,
+      whom they had met in the ante-room of the restaurant. Lucille had the
+      Prince and Mr. Brott on either side of her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey monopolised at first the greater part of the conversation. Mr.
+      Sabin was unusually silent. The German attache, whose name was Baron von
+      Opperman, did not speak until the champagne was served, when he threw a
+      bombshell into the midst of the little party.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I hear,&rdquo; he said, with a broad and seraphic smile, &ldquo;that in this hotel
+      there has to-day a murder been committed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Baron von Opperman was suddenly the cynosure of several pairs of eyes. He
+      was delighted with the success of his attempt towards the general
+      entertainment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The evening papers,&rdquo; he continued, &ldquo;they have in them news of a sudden
+      death. But in the hotel here now they are speaking of something&mdash;what
+      you call more&mdash;mysterious. There has been ordered an examination
+      post-mortem!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is a case of poisoning then, I presume?&rdquo; the Prince asked, leaning
+      forward.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is so supposed,&rdquo; the attache answered. &ldquo;It seems that the doctors
+      could find no trace of disease, nothing to have caused death. They were
+      not able to decide anything. The man, they said, was in perfect health&mdash;but
+      dead.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It must have been, then,&rdquo; the Prince remarked, &ldquo;a very wonderful poison.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Without doubt,&rdquo; Baron Opperman answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince sighed gently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There are many such,&rdquo; he murmured. &ldquo;Indeed the science of toxicology was
+      never so ill-understood as now. I am assured that there are many poisons
+      known only to a few chemists in the world, a single grain of which is
+      sufficient to destroy the strongest man and leave not the slightest trace
+      behind. If the poisoner be sufficiently accomplished he can pursue his&mdash;calling
+      without the faintest risk of detection.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin sipped his wine thoughtfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Prince is, I believe, right,&rdquo; he remarked. &ldquo;It is for that reason,
+      doubtless, that I have heard of men whose lives have been threatened, who
+      have deposited in safe places a sealed statement of the danger in which
+      they find themselves, with an account of its source, so that if they
+      should come to an end in any way mysterious there may be evidence against
+      their murderers.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A very reasonable and judicious precaution,&rdquo; the Prince remarked with
+      glittering eyes. &ldquo;Only if the poison was indeed of such a nature that it
+      was not possible to trace it nothing worse than suspicion could ever be
+      the lot of any one.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin helped himself carefully to salad, and resumed the discussion
+      with his next course.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps not,&rdquo; he admitted. &ldquo;But you must remember that suspicion is of
+      itself a grievous embarrassment. No man likes to feel that he is being
+      suspected of murder. By the bye, is it known whom the unfortunate person
+      was?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The servant of a French nobleman who is staying in the hotel,&rdquo; Mr. Brott
+      remarked. &ldquo;I heard as much as that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin smiled. Lady Carey glanced at him meaningly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have worried the Prince quite sufficiently,&rdquo; she whispered. &ldquo;Change
+      the subject.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin bowed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are very considerate&mdash;to the Prince,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is perhaps for your sake,&rdquo; she answered. &ldquo;And as for the Prince&mdash;well,
+      you know, or you should know, for how much he counts with me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin glanced at her curiously. She was a little flushed as though
+      with some inward excitement. Her eyes were bright and soft. Despite a
+      certain angularity of figure and her hollow cheeks she was certainly one
+      of the most distinguished-looking women in the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are so dense,&rdquo; she whispered in his ear, &ldquo;wilfully dense, perhaps.
+      You will not understand that I wish to be your friend.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He smiled with gentle deprecation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you blame me,&rdquo; he murmured, &ldquo;if I seem incredulous? For I am an old
+      man, and you are spoken of always as the friend of my enemy, the friend of
+      the Prince.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wonder,&rdquo; she said thoughtfully, &ldquo;if this is really the secret of your
+      mistrust? Do you indeed fear that I have no other interest in life save to
+      serve Saxe Leinitzer?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As to that,&rdquo; he answered, &ldquo;I cannot say. Yet I know that only a few
+      months ago you were acting under orders from him. It is you who brought
+      Lucille from America. It was through you that the first blow was struck at
+      my happiness.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Cannot I atone?&rdquo; she murmured under her breath. &ldquo;If I can I will. And as
+      for the present, well, I am outside his schemes now. Let us be friends.
+      You would find me a very valuable ally.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let it be so,&rdquo; he answered without emotion. &ldquo;You shall help me, if you
+      will, to regain Lucille. I promise you then that my gratitude shall not
+      disappoint you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She bit her lip.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And are you sure,&rdquo; she whispered, &ldquo;that Lucille is anxious to be won
+      back? She loves intrigue, excitement, the sense of being concerned in
+      important doings. Besides&mdash;you must have heard what they say about
+      her&mdash;and Brott. Look at her now. She wears her grass widowhood
+      lightly enough.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin looked across the table. Lucille had indeed all the appearance
+      of a woman thoroughly at peace with the world and herself. Brott was
+      talking to her in smothered and eager undertones. The Prince was waiting
+      for an opportunity to intervene. Mr. Sabin looked into Brott&rsquo;s white
+      strong face, and was thoughtful.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is a great power&mdash;the power of my sex,&rdquo; Lady Carey continued,
+      with a faint, subtle smile. &ldquo;A word from Lucille, and the history book of
+      the future must be differently written.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She will not speak that word,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said. Lady Carey shrugged her
+      shoulders. The subtlety of her smile faded away. Her whole face expressed
+      a contemptuous and self-assured cynicism.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You know her very well,&rdquo; she murmured. &ldquo;Yet she and I are no strangers.
+      She is one who loves to taste&mdash;no, to drink&mdash;deeply of all the
+      experiences of life. Why should we blame her, you and I? Have we not the
+      same desire?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin lit a cigarette.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Once, perhaps,&rdquo; he remarked. &ldquo;You must not forget that I am no longer a
+      young man.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She leaned towards him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will die young,&rdquo; she murmured. &ldquo;You are not of the breed of men who
+      grow old.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you mean to turn my head?&rdquo; he asked her, with a humorous smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It would be easier,&rdquo; she answered, &ldquo;than to touch your heart.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Then Lucille looked across at them&mdash;and Mr. Sabin suddenly remembered
+      that Reginald Brott knew them both only as strangers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Muriel,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;you are behaving disgracefully.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am doing my best,&rdquo; Lady Carey answered, &ldquo;to keep you in countenance.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The eyes of the two women met for a moment, and though the smiles lingered
+      still upon their faces Lady Carey at any rate was not able to wholly
+      conceal her hatred. Lucille shrugged her shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am doing my best,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;to convert Mr. Brott.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To what?&rdquo; Lady Carey asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To a sane point of view concerning the holiness of the aristocracy,&rdquo;
+       Lucille answered. &ldquo;I am afraid though that I have made very little
+      impression. In his heart I believe Mr. Brott would like to see us all
+      working for our living, school-teachers and dressmakers, and that sort of
+      thing, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Brott protested.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am not even,&rdquo; he declared, &ldquo;moderately advanced in my views as regards
+      matters of your sex. To tell you the truth, I do not like women to work at
+      all outside their homes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear,&rdquo; she said to Lucille, &ldquo;you and I may as well retire in despair.
+      Can&rsquo;t you see the sort of woman Mr. Brott admires? She isn&rsquo;t like us a
+      bit. She is probably a healthy, ruddy-cheeked young person who lives in
+      the country, gets up to breakfast to pour out the coffee for some sort of
+      a male relative, goes round the garden snipping off roses in big gloves
+      and a huge basket, interviews the cook, orders the dinner, makes fancy
+      waistcoats for her husband, and failing a sewing maid, does the mending
+      for the family. You and I, Lucille, are not like that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, you have mentioned nothing which I couldn&rsquo;t do, if it seemed worth
+      while,&rdquo; Lucille objected. &ldquo;It sounds very primitive and delightful. I am
+      sure we are all too luxurious and too lazy. I think we ought to turn over
+      a new leaf.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For you, dear Lucille,&rdquo; Lady Carey said with suave and deadly satire,
+      &ldquo;what improvement is possible? You have all that you could desire. It is
+      much less fortunate persons, such as myself, to whom Utopia must seem such
+      a delightful place.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A frock-coated and altogether immaculate young man approached their table
+      and accosted Mr. Sabin.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I beg your pardon, sir,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;but the manager would be much obliged
+      if you would spare him a moment or two in his private room as soon as
+      possible.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In a few minutes,&rdquo; he answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The little party broke up almost immediately. Coffee was ordered in the
+      palm court, where the band was playing. Mr. Sabin and the Prince fell a
+      little behind the others on the way out of the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You heard my summons?&rdquo; Mr. Sabin asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am going to be cross-examined as regards Duson. I am no longer a member
+      of the Order. What is to prevent my setting them upon the right track?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The fact,&rdquo; the Prince said coolly, &ldquo;that you are hoping one day to
+      recover Lucille.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I doubt,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;whether you are strong enough to keep her from
+      me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince smiled. All his white teeth were showing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;you know better than&mdash;much better than that.
+      Lucille must wait her release. You know that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will buy it,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;with a lie to the manager here, or I
+      will tell the truth and still take her from you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince stood upon the topmost step of the balcony. Below was the palm
+      court, with many little groups of people dotted about.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear friend,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;Duson died absolutely of his own free will.
+      You know that quite well. We should have preferred that the matter had
+      been otherwise arranged. But as it is we are safe, absolutely safe.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Duson&rsquo;s letter!&rdquo; Mr. Sabin remarked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will not show it,&rdquo; the Prince answered. &ldquo;You cannot. You have kept it
+      too long. And, after all, you cannot escape from the main fact. Duson
+      committed suicide.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He was incited to murder. His letter proves it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince shrugged his shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By whom? Ah, how your story would excite ridicule. I seem to hear the
+      laughter now. No, my dear Souspennier, you would bargain for me with
+      Lucille. Look below. Are we likely to part with her just yet?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In a corner, behind a gigantic palm, Lucille and Brott were talking
+      together. Lady Carey had drawn Opperman a little distance away. Brott was
+      talking eagerly, his cheeks flushed, his manner earnest. Mr. Sabin turned
+      upon his heel and walked away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0032" id="link2HCH0032">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXXII
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin, although he had registered at the hotel under his accustomed
+      pseudonym, had taken no pains to conceal his identity, and was well known
+      to the people in authority about the place. He was received with all the
+      respect due to his rank.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your Grace will, I trust, accept my most sincere apologies for disturbing
+      you,&rdquo; Mr. Hertz, the manager, said, rising and bowing at his entrance. &ldquo;We
+      have here, however, an emissary connected with the police come to inquire
+      into the sad incident of this afternoon. He expressed a wish to ask your
+      Grace a question or two with a view to rendering your Grace&rsquo;s attendance
+      at the inquest unnecessary.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am perfectly willing,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;to answer any questions you may choose
+      to put to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A plain, hard-featured little man, in a long black overcoat, and holding a
+      bowler hat in his hand, bowed respectfully to Mr. Sabin.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am much obliged to you, sir,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;My name is John Passmore. We do
+      not of course appear in this matter unless the post-mortem should indicate
+      anything unusual in the circumstances of Duson&rsquo;s death, but it is always
+      well to be prepared, and I ventured to ask Mr. Hertz here to procure for
+      me your opinion as regards the death of your servant.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have asked me,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said gravely, &ldquo;a very difficult question.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The eyes of the little detective flashed keenly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You do not believe then, sir, that he died a natural death?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do not,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Hertz was startled. The detective controlled his features admirably.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;May I ask your reasons, sir?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin lightly shrugged his shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have never known the man to have a day&rsquo;s illness in his life,&rdquo; he said.
+      &ldquo;Further, since his arrival in England he has been acting in a strange and
+      furtive manner, and I gathered that he had some cause for fear which he
+      was indisposed to talk about.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This,&rdquo; the detective said, &ldquo;is very interesting.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Doubtless,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered. &ldquo;But before I say anything more I must
+      clearly understand my position. I am giving you personally a few friendly
+      hints, in the interests of justice perhaps, but still quite informally. I
+      am not in possession of any definite facts concerning Duson, and what I
+      say to you here I am not prepared to say at the inquest, before which I
+      presume I may have to appear as a witness. There, I shall do nothing more
+      save identify Duson and state the circumstances under which I found him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I understand that perfectly, sir,&rdquo; the man answered. &ldquo;The less said at
+      the inquest the better in the interests of justice.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am glad,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;that you appreciate that. I do not mind going so
+      far then as to tell you that I believe Duson died of poison.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Can you give me any idea,&rdquo; the detective asked, &ldquo;as to the source?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;None,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered. &ldquo;That you must discover for yourselves. Duson
+      was a man of silent and secretive habits, and it has occurred to me more
+      than once that he might possibly be a member of one of those foreign
+      societies who have their headquarters in Soho, and concerning which you
+      probably know more than I do.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The detective smiled. It was a very slight flicker of the lips, but it
+      attracted Mr. Sabin&rsquo;s keen attention.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your suggestions,&rdquo; the detective said, &ldquo;are making this case a very
+      interesting one. I have always understood, however, that reprisals of this
+      extreme nature are seldom resorted to in this country. Besides, the man&rsquo;s
+      position seems scarcely to indicate sufficient importance&mdash;perhaps&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well?&rdquo; Mr. Sabin interjected.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I notice that Duson was found in your sitting-room. It occurs to me as a
+      possibility that he may have met with a fate intended for some one else&mdash;for
+      yourself, for instance, sir!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said smoothly, &ldquo;am a member of no secret society, nor
+      am I conscious of having enemies sufficiently venomous to desire my life.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The detective sat for a moment with immovable face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We, all of us, know our friends, sir,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;There are few of us
+      properly acquainted with our enemies.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin lit a cigarette. His fingers were quite steady, but this man was
+      making him think.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You do not seriously believe,&rdquo; he asked, &ldquo;that Duson met with a death
+      which was intended for me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am afraid,&rdquo; the detective said thoughtfully, &ldquo;that I know no more about
+      it than you do.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I see,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;that I am no stranger to you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are very far from being that, sir,&rdquo; the man answered. &ldquo;A few years
+      ago I was working for the Government&mdash;and you were not often out of
+      my sight.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was perhaps judicious,&rdquo; he remarked, &ldquo;though I am afraid it proved of
+      very little profit to you. And what about the present time?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I see no harm in telling you, sir, that a general watch is kept upon your
+      movements. Duson was useful to us... but now Duson is dead.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is a fact,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said impressively, &ldquo;that Duson was a genius. My
+      admiration for him continually increases.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Duson made harmless reports to us as we desired them,&rdquo; the detective
+      said. &ldquo;I have an idea, however, that if this course had at any time been
+      inimical to your interests that Duson would have deceived us.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am convinced of it,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin declared.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And Duson is dead!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin nodded gravely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The little hard-visaged man looked steadily for a moment upon the carpet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Duson died virtually whilst accepting pay from if not actually in the
+      employ of our Secret Service Department. You will understand, therefore,
+      that we, knowing of this complication in his life, naturally incline
+      towards the theory of murder. Shall I be taking a liberty, sir, if I give
+      you an unprofessional word of warning?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin raised his eyebrows.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By no means,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;But surely you cannot&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, sir,&rdquo; he said drily. &ldquo;I do not for one moment suspect you. The man
+      was our spy upon your movements, but I am perfectly aware that there has
+      been nothing worth reporting, and I also know that you would never run
+      such a risk for the removal of so insignificant a person. No, my warning
+      comes to you from a different point of view. It is, if you will pardon my
+      saying so, none the less personal, but wholly friendly. The case of Duson
+      will be sifted to the dregs, but unless I am greatly mistaken, and I do
+      not see room for the possibility of a mistake, I know the truth already.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will share your knowledge?&rdquo; Mr. Sabin asked quietly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The detective shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You shall know,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;before the last moment. But I want to warn you
+      that when you do know it&mdash;it will be a shock to you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin stood perfectly still for several moments. This little man
+      believed what he was saying. He was certainly deceived. Yet none the less
+      Mr. Sabin was thoughtful.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You do not feel inclined,&rdquo; he said slowly, &ldquo;to give me your entire
+      confidence.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not at present, sir,&rdquo; the man answered. &ldquo;You would certainly intervene,
+      and my case would be spoilt.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin glanced at the clock.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you care to call on me to-morrow,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I could perhaps show you
+      something which might change your opinion.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The detective bowed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am always open, sir,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;to conviction. I will come about twelve
+      o&rsquo;clock.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin went back to the palm lounge. Lucille and Reginald Brott were
+      sitting together at a small table, talking earnestly to one another. The
+      Prince and Lady Carey had joined another party who were all talking
+      together near the entrance. The latter, directly she saw them coming,
+      detached herself from them and came to him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your coffee is almost cold,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;but the Prince has found some
+      brandy of wonderful age, somewhere in the last century, I believe.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin glanced towards Lucille. She appeared engrossed in her
+      conversation, and had not noticed his approach. Lady Carey shrugged.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have only a few minutes,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;before that dreadful person
+      comes and frowns us all out. I have kept you a chair.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin sat down. Lady Carey interposed herself between him and the
+      small table at which Lucille was sitting.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have they discovered anything?&rdquo; she asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing!&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She played with her fan for a moment. Then she looked him steadily in the
+      face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My friend?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He glanced towards her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lady Carey!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why are you so obstinate?&rdquo; she exclaimed in a low, passionate whisper. &ldquo;I
+      want to be your friend, and I could be very useful to you. Yet you keep me
+      always at arm&rsquo;s length. You are making a mistake. Indeed you are. I
+      suppose you do not trust me. Yet reflect. Have I ever told you anything
+      that was not true? Have I ever tried to deceive you? I don&rsquo;t pretend to be
+      a paragon of the virtues. I live my life to please myself. I admit it. Why
+      not? It is simply applying the same sort of philosophy to my life as you
+      have applied to yours. My enemies can find plenty to say about me&mdash;but
+      never that I have been false to a friend. Why do you keep me always at
+      arm&rsquo;s length, as though I were one of those who wished you evil?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lady Carey,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;I will not affect to misunderstand you, and
+      I am flattered that you should consider my good will of any importance.
+      But you are the friend of the Prince of Saxe Leinitzer. You are one of
+      those even now who are working actively against me. I am not blaming you,
+      but we are on opposite sides.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey looked for a moment across at the Prince, and her eyes were
+      full of venom.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you knew,&rdquo; she murmured, &ldquo;how I loathe that man. Friends! That is all
+      long since past. Nothing would give me so much pleasure as never to see
+      his face again.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nevertheless,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin reminded her, &ldquo;whatever your private feelings
+      may be, he has claims upon you which you cannot resist.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is one thing in the world,&rdquo; she said in a low tone, &ldquo;for which I
+      would risk even the abnegation of those claims.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You would perjure your honour?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;if it came to that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin moved uneasily in his chair. The woman was in earnest. She
+      offered him an invaluable alliance; she could show him the way to hold his
+      own against even the inimical combination by which he was surrounded. If
+      only he could compromise. But her eyes were seeking his eagerly, even
+      fiercely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You doubt me still,&rdquo; she whispered. &ldquo;And I thought that you had genius.
+      Listen, I will prove myself. The Prince has one of his foolish passions
+      for Lucille. You know that. So far she has shown herself able to resist
+      his fascinations. He is trying other means. Lucille is in danger! Duson!&mdash;but
+      after all, I was never really in danger, except the time when I carried
+      the despatches for the colonel and rode straight into a Boer ambush.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin saw nothing, but he did not move a muscle of his face. A moment
+      later they heard the Prince&rsquo;s voice from behind them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am very sorry,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;to interrupt these interesting reminiscences,
+      but you see that every one is going. Lucille is already in the
+      cloak-room.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey rose at once, but the glance she threw at the Prince was a
+      singularly malicious one. They walked down the carpeted way together, and
+      Lady Carey left them without a word. In the vestibule Mr. Sabin and
+      Reginald Brott came face to face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0033" id="link2HCH0033">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXXIII
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The greeting between the two men was cold, and the Prince almost
+      immediately stepped between them. Nevertheless, Brott seemed to have a
+      fancy to talk with Mr. Sabin.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was at Camperdown House yesterday,&rdquo; he remarked. &ldquo;Her Ladyship was
+      regretting that she saw you so seldom.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have been a little remiss,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered. &ldquo;I hope to lunch there
+      to-morrow.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have seen the evening paper, Brott?&rdquo; the Prince asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I saw the early editions,&rdquo; Brott answered. &ldquo;Is there anything fresh?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince dropped his voice a little. He drew Brott on one side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Westminster declared that you had left for Windsor by an early train
+      this afternoon, and gives a list of your Cabinet. The Pall Mall, on the
+      other hand, declares that Letheringham will assuredly be sent for
+      to-morrow.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Brott shrugged his shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There are bound to be a crop of such reports at a time like this,&rdquo; he
+      remarked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince dropped his voice almost to a whisper.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Brott,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;there is something which I have had it in my mind to
+      say to you for the last few days. I am not perhaps a great politician,
+      but, like many outsiders, I see perhaps a good deal of the game. I know
+      fairly well what the feeling is in Vienna and Berlin. I can give you a
+      word of advice.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are very kind, Prince,&rdquo; Brott remarked, looking uneasily over his
+      shoulder. &ldquo;But&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is concerning Brand. There is no man more despised and disliked
+      abroad, not only because he is a Jew and ill-bred, but because of his
+      known sympathy with some of these anarchists who are perfect firebrands in
+      Europe.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am exceedingly obliged to you,&rdquo; Brott answered hurriedly. &ldquo;I am afraid,
+      however, that you anticipate matters a good deal. I have not yet been
+      asked to form a Cabinet. It is doubtful whether I ever shall. And, beyond
+      that, it is also doubtful whether even if I am asked I shall accept.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I must confess,&rdquo; the Prince said, &ldquo;that you puzzle me. Every one says
+      that the Premiership of the country is within your reach. It is surely the
+      Mecca of all politicians.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There are complications,&rdquo; Brott muttered. &ldquo;You&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He stopped short and moved towards the door. Lucille, unusually pale and
+      grave, had just issued from the ladies&rsquo; ante-room, and joined Lady Carey,
+      who was talking to Mr. Sabin. She touched the latter lightly on the arm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Help us to escape,&rdquo; she said quickly. &ldquo;I am weary of my task. Can we get
+      away without their seeing us?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin offered his arm. They passed along the broad way, and as they
+      were almost the last to leave the place, their carriage was easily found.
+      The Prince and Mr. Brott appeared only in time to see Mr. Sabin turning
+      away, hat in hand, from the curb-stone. Brott&rsquo;s face darkened.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Prince,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;who is that man?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince shrugged his shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A man,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;who has more than once nearly ruined your country. His
+      life has been a splendid failure. He would have given India to the
+      Russians, but they mistrusted him and trifled away their chance. Once
+      since then he nearly sold this country to Germany; it was a trifle only
+      which intervened. He has been all his life devoted to one cause.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And that?&rdquo; Brott asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The restoration of the monarchy to France. He, as you of course know, is
+      the Duc de Souspennier, the sole living member in the direct line of one
+      of the most ancient and historical houses in England. My friend,&rdquo; he
+      added, turning to Mr. Sabin, &ldquo;you have stolen a march upon us. We had not
+      even an opportunity of making our adieux to the ladies.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I imagine,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered, &ldquo;that the cause of quarrel may rest with
+      them. You were nowhere in sight when they came out.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;These fascinating politics,&rdquo; the Prince remarked. &ldquo;We all want to talk
+      politics to Mr. Brott just now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will wish you good-night, gentlemen,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, and passed into
+      the hotel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince touched Brott on the arm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will you come round to the club, and take a hand at bridge?&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Brott laughed shortly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I imagine,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;that I should be an embarrassing guest to you just
+      now at, say the Mallborough, or even at the St. James. I believe the
+      aristocracy are looking forward to the possibility of my coming into power
+      with something like terror.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am not thoroughly versed; in the politics of this country,&rdquo; the Prince
+      said, &ldquo;but I have always understood that your views were very much
+      advanced. Dorset solemnly believes that you are pledged to exterminate the
+      large landed proprietors, and I do not think he would be surprised to hear
+      that you had a guillotine up your sleeve.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The two men were strolling along Pall Mall. The Prince had lit a large
+      cigar, and was apparently on the best of terms with himself and the world
+      in general. Brott, on the contrary, was most unlike himself, preoccupied,
+      and apparently ill at ease.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Duke and his class are, of course, my natural opponents,&rdquo; Brott said
+      shortly. &ldquo;By the bye, Prince,&rdquo; he added, suddenly turning towards him, and
+      with a complete change of tone, &ldquo;it is within your power to do me a
+      favour.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have only to command,&rdquo; the Prince assured him good-naturedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My rooms are close here,&rdquo; Brott continued. &ldquo;Will you accompany me there,
+      and grant me the favour of a few minutes&rsquo; conversation?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Assuredly!&rdquo; the Prince answered, flicking the end off his cigar. &ldquo;It will
+      be a pleasure.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They walked on towards their destination in silence. Brott&rsquo;s secretary was
+      in the library with a huge pile of letters and telegrams before him. He
+      welcomed Brott with relief.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We have been sending all over London for you, sir,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Brott nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am better out of the way for the present,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;Deny me to
+      everybody for an hour, especially Letheringham. There is nothing here, I
+      suppose, which cannot wait so long as that?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The secretary looked a little doubtful.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think not, sir,&rdquo; he decided.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very good. Go and get something to eat. You look fagged. And tell Hyson
+      to bring up some liqueurs, will you! I shall be engaged for a short time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The secretary withdrew. A servant appeared with a little tray of liqueurs,
+      and in obedience to an impatient gesture from his master, left them upon
+      the table. Brott closed the door firmly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Prince,&rdquo; he said, resuming his seat, &ldquo;I wished to speak with you
+      concerning the Countess.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Saxe Leinitzer nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All right,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I am listening!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I understand,&rdquo; Brott continued, &ldquo;that you are one of her oldest friends,
+      and also one of the trustees of her estates. I presume that you stand to
+      her therefore to some extent in the position of an adviser?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is perfectly true,&rdquo; the Prince admitted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I, too, am an old friend, as she has doubtless told you,&rdquo; Brott said.
+      &ldquo;All my life she has been the one woman whom I have desired to call my
+      wife. That desire has never been so strong as at the present moment.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince removed his cigar from his mouth and looked grave.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, my dear Brott,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;have you considered the enormous gulf
+      between your&mdash;views? The Countess owns great hereditary estates, she
+      comes from a family which is almost Royal, she herself is an aristocrat to
+      the backbone. It is a class against which you have declared war. How can
+      you possibly come together on common ground?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Brott was silent for a moment. Looking at him steadily the Prince was
+      surprised at the change in the man&rsquo;s appearance. His cheeks seemed
+      blanched and his skin drawn. He had lost flesh, his eyes were hollow, and
+      he frequently betrayed in small mannerisms a nervousness wholly new and
+      unfamiliar to him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You speak as a man of sense, Prince,&rdquo; he said after a while. &ldquo;You are
+      absolutely correct. This matter has caused me a great deal of anxious
+      thought. To falter at this moment is to lose, politically, all that I have
+      worked for all my life. It is to lose the confidence of the people who
+      have trusted me. It is a betrayal, the thought of which is a constant
+      shame to me. But, on the other hand, Lucille is the dearest thing to me in
+      life.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince&rsquo;s expression was wholly sympathetic. The derision which lurked
+      behind he kept wholly concealed. A strong man so abjectly in the toils,
+      and he to be chosen for his confidant! It was melodrama with a dash of
+      humour.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If I am to help you,&rdquo; the Prince said, &ldquo;I must know everything. Have you
+      made any proposals to Lucille? In plain words, how much of your political
+      future are you disposed to sacrifice?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All!&rdquo; Brott said hoarsely. &ldquo;All for a certainty of her. Not one jot
+      without.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And she?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Brott sprang to his feet, white and nervous.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is where I am at fault,&rdquo; he exclaimed. &ldquo;It is why I have asked for
+      your advice, your help perhaps. I do not find it easy to understand
+      Lucille. Perhaps it is because I am not well versed in the ways of her
+      sex. I find her elusive. She will give me no promise. Before I went to
+      Glasgow I talked with her. If she would have married me then my political
+      career was over&mdash;thrown on one side like an old garment. But she
+      would give me no promise. In everything save the spoken words I crave she
+      has promised me her love. Again there comes a climax. In a few hours I
+      must make my final choice. I must decline to join Letheringham, in which
+      case the King must send for me, or accept office with him, and throw away
+      the one great chance of this generation. Letheringham&rsquo;s Cabinet, of
+      course, would be a moderate Liberal one, a paragon of milk and water in
+      effectiveness. If I go in alone we make history. The moment of issue has
+      come. And, Prince, although I have pleaded with all the force and all the
+      earnestness I know, Lucille remains elusive. If I choose for her side&mdash;she
+      promises me&mdash;reward. But it is vague to me. I don&rsquo;t, I can&rsquo;t
+      understand! I want her for my wife, I want her for the rest of my life&mdash;nothing
+      else. Tell me, is there any barrier to this? There are no complications in
+      her life which I do not know of? I want your assurance. I want her
+      promise. You understand me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I understand you,&rdquo; the Prince said gravely. &ldquo;I understand more than
+      you do. I understand Lucille&rsquo;s position.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Brott leaned forward with bright eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lucille, the Countess of Radantz, is at the present moment a married
+      woman.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Brott was speechless. His face was like a carved stone image, from which
+      the life had wholly gone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Her husband&mdash;in name only, let me tell you, is the Mr. Sabin with
+      whom we had supper this evening.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Great God!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Their marriage had strange features in it which are not my concern, or
+      even yours,&rdquo; the Prince said deliberately. &ldquo;The truth is, that they have
+      not lived together for years, they never will again, for their divorce
+      proceedings would long ago have been concluded but for the complications
+      arising from the difference between the Hungarian and the American laws.
+      Here, without doubt, is the reason why the Countess has hesitated to
+      pledge her word directly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is wonderful,&rdquo; Brott said slowly. &ldquo;But it explains everything.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a loud knock at the door. The secretary appeared upon the
+      threshold. Behind him was a tall, slim young man in traveling costume.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The King&rsquo;s messenger!&rdquo; Brott exclaimed, rising to his feet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0034" id="link2HCH0034">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXXIV
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The Prince presented himself with a low bow. Lucille had a copy of the
+      morning paper in her hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I congratulate you, Countess,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;You progress admirably. It is a
+      great step gained.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille, who was looking pale and nervous, regarded him with anxiety.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A step! But it is everything. If these rumours are true, he refuses the
+      attempt to form a Cabinet. He takes a subordinate position under
+      Letheringham. Every paper this morning says that if this is so his
+      political career is over. It is true, is it not?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is a great gain,&rdquo; the Prince said slowly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But it is everything,&rdquo; Lucille declared, with a rising note of passion in
+      her tone. &ldquo;It was my task. It is accomplished. I demand my release.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince was silent for a moment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are in a great hurry, Lucille,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What if I am!&rdquo; she replied fiercely. &ldquo;Do you suppose that this life of
+      lies and deceit is pleasant to me? Do you suppose that it is a pleasant
+      task to lure a brave man on to his ruin?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince raised his eyebrows.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;you can have no sympathy with Reginald Brott, the sworn
+      enemy of our class, a Socialist, a demagogue who would parcel out our
+      lands in allotments, a man who has pledged himself to nothing more nor
+      less than a revolution.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The man&rsquo;s views are hateful enough,&rdquo; she answered, &ldquo;but he is in earnest,
+      and however misguided he may be there is something noble in his
+      unselfishness, in his, steady fixedness of purpose.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince&rsquo;s face indicated his contempt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Such men,&rdquo; he declared, &ldquo;are only fit to be crushed like vermin under
+      foot. In any other country save England we should have dealt with him
+      differently.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is all beside the question,&rdquo; she declared. &ldquo;My task was to prevent
+      his becoming Prime Minister, and I have succeeded.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince gave vent to a little gesture of dissent. &ldquo;Your task,&rdquo; he said,
+      &ldquo;went a little farther than that. We require his political ruin.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She pointed to the pile of newspapers upon the table.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Read what they say!&rdquo; she exclaimed. &ldquo;There is not one who does not use
+      that precise term. He has missed his opportunity. The people will never
+      trust him again.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That, at any rate, is not certain,&rdquo; the Prince said. &ldquo;You must remember
+      that before long he will realise that he has been your tool. What then? He
+      will become more rabid than ever, more also to be feared. No, Lucille,
+      your task is not yet over. He must be involved in an open and public
+      scandal, and with you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She was white almost to the lips with passion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You expect a great deal!&rdquo; she exclaimed. &ldquo;You expect me to ruin my life,
+      then, to give my honour as well as these weary months, this constant
+      humiliation.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are pleased to be melodramatic,&rdquo; he said coldly. &ldquo;It is quite
+      possible to involve him without actually going to extremes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And what of my husband?&rdquo; she asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince laughed unpleasantly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you have not taught him complaisance,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;it is possible, of
+      course, that Mr. Sabin might be unkind. But what of it? You are your own
+      mistress. You are a woman of the world. Without him there is an infinitely
+      greater future before you than as his wife you could ever enjoy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are pleased,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;to be enigmatic.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince looked hard at her. Her face was white and set. He sighed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lucille,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I have been very patient for many years. Yet you know
+      very well my secret, and in your heart you know very well that I am one of
+      those who generally win the thing upon which they have set their hearts. I
+      have always loved you, Lucille, but never more than now. Fidelity is
+      admirable, but surely you have done your duty. He is an old man, and a man
+      who has failed in the great things of life. I, on the other hand, can
+      offer you a great future. Saxe Leinitzer, as you know, is a kingdom of its
+      own, and, Lucille, I stand well with the Emperor. The Socialist party in
+      Berlin are strong and increasing. He needs us. Who can say what honours
+      may not be in store for us? For I, too, am of the Royal House, Lucille. I
+      am his kinsman. He never forgets that. Come, throw aside this
+      restlessness. I will tell you how to deal with Brott, and the publicity,
+      after all, will be nothing. We will go abroad directly afterwards.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have you finished?&rdquo; she asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will be reasonable!&rdquo; he begged.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Reasonable!&rdquo; She turned upon him with flashing eyes. &ldquo;I wonder how you
+      ever dared to imagine that I could tolerate you for one moment as a lover
+      or a husband. Wipe it out of your mind once and for all. You are repellent
+      to me. Positively the only wish I have in connection with you is never to
+      see your face again. As for my duty, I have done it. My conscience is
+      clear. I shall leave this house to-day.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I hope,&rdquo; the Prince said softly, &ldquo;that you will do nothing rash!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In an hour,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;I shall be at the Carlton with my husband. I will
+      trust to him to protect me from you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You talk rashly,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;You do not think. You are forbidden to leave
+      this house. You are forbidden to join your husband.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She laughed scornfully, but underneath was a tremor of uneasiness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You summoned me from America,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;and I came... I was forced to
+      leave my husband without even a word of farewell. I did it! You set me a
+      task&mdash;I have accomplished it. I claim that I have kept my bond, that
+      I have worked out my own freedom. If you require more of me, I say that
+      you are overstepping your authority, and I refuse. Set the black cross
+      against my name if you will. I will take the risk.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince came a little nearer to her. She held her own bravely enough,
+      but there was a look in his face which terrified her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lucille,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;you force me to disclose something which I have kept
+      so far to myself. I wished to spare you anxiety, but you must understand
+      that your safety depends upon your remaining in this house, and in keeping
+      apart from all association with&mdash;your husband.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will find it difficult,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;to convince me of that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;On the contrary,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I shall find it easy&mdash;too easy, believe
+      me. You will remember my finding you at the wine-shop of Emil Sachs?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You refused to tell me the object of your visit. It was foolish, for of
+      course I was informed. You procured from Emil a small quantity of the
+      powder prepared according to the recipe of Herr Estentrauzen, and for
+      which we paid him ten thousand marks. It is the most silent, the most
+      secret, the most swift poison yet discovered.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I got it for myself,&rdquo; she said coldly. &ldquo;There have been times when I have
+      felt that the possession of something of that sort was an absolute
+      necessity.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do not question you as to the reason for your getting it,&rdquo; he answered.
+      &ldquo;Very shortly afterwards you left your carriage in Pall Mall, and without
+      even asking for your husband you called at his hotel&mdash;you stole up
+      into his room.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I took some roses there and left them,&rdquo; she said &ldquo;What of that?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Only that you were the last person seen to enter Mr. Sabin&rsquo;s rooms before
+      Duson was found there dead. And Duson died from a dose of that same
+      poison, a packet of which you procured secretly from Emil Sachs. An empty
+      wineglass was by his side&mdash;it was one generally used by Mr. Sabin. I
+      know that the English police, who are not so foolish as people would have
+      one believe, are searching now for the woman who was seen to enter the
+      sitting-room shortly before Mr. Sabin returned and found Duson there
+      dead.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She laughed scornfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is ingenious,&rdquo; she admitted, &ldquo;and perhaps a little unfortunate for me.
+      But the inference is ridiculous. What interest had I in the man&rsquo;s death?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;None, of course!&rdquo; the Prince said. &ldquo;But, Lucille, in all cases of
+      poisoning it is the wife of whom one first thinks!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The wife? I did not even know that the creature had a wife.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course not! But Duson drank from Mr. Sabin&rsquo;s glass, and you are Mr.
+      Sabin&rsquo;s wife. You are living apart from him. He is old and you are young.
+      And for the other man&mdash;there is Reginald Brott. Your names have been
+      coupled together, of course. See what an excellent case stands there. You
+      procure the poison&mdash;secretly. You make your way to your husband&rsquo;s
+      room&mdash;secretly. The fatal dose is taken from your husband&rsquo;s
+      wineglass. You leave no note, no message. The poison of which the man died
+      is exactly the same as you procured from Sachs. Lucille, after all, do you
+      wonder that the police are looking for a woman in black with an ermine
+      toque? What a mercy you wore a thick veil!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She sat down suddenly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This is hideous,&rdquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Think it over,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;step by step. It is wonderful how all the
+      incidents dovetail into one another.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Too wonderful,&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;It sounds like some vile plot to incriminate
+      me. How much had you to do with this, Prince?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t be a fool!&rdquo; he answered roughly. &ldquo;Can&rsquo;t you see for yourself that
+      your arrest would be the most terrible thing that could happen for us?
+      Even Sachs might break down in cross-examination, and you&mdash;well, you
+      are a woman, and you want to live. We should all be in the most deadly
+      peril. Lucille, I would have spared you this anxiety if I could, but your
+      defiance made it necessary. There was no other way of getting you away
+      from England to-night except by telling you the truth.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Away from England to-night,&rdquo; she repeated vaguely. &ldquo;But I will not go. It
+      is impossible.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is imperative,&rdquo; the Prince declared, with a sharp ring of authority in
+      his tone. &ldquo;It is your own folly, for which you have to pay. You went
+      secretly to Emil Sachs. You paid surreptitious visits to your husband,
+      which were simply madness. You have involved us all in danger. For our own
+      sakes we must see that you are removed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is the very thing to excite suspicion&mdash;flight abroad,&rdquo; she
+      objected.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your flight,&rdquo; he said coolly, &ldquo;will be looked upon from a different point
+      of view, for Reginald Brott must follow you. It will be an elopement, not
+      a flight from justice.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And in case I should decline?&rdquo; Lucille asked quietly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince shrugged his shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, we have done the best we can for ourselves,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Come, I will
+      be frank with you. There are great interests involved here, and, before
+      all things, I have had to consider the welfare of our friends. That is my
+      duty! Emil Sachs by this time is beyond risk of detection. He has left
+      behind a letter, in which he confesses that he has for some time
+      supplemented the profits of his wine-shop by selling secretly certain
+      deadly poisons of his own concoctions. Alarmed at reading of the death of
+      Duson immediately after he had sold a poison which the symptoms denoted he
+      had fled the country. That letter is in the hands of the woman who remains
+      in the wine-shop, and will only be used in case of necessity. By other
+      means we have dissociated ourselves from Duson and all connection with
+      him. I think I could go so far as to say that it would be impossible to
+      implicate us. Our sole anxiety now, therefore, is to save you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille rose to her feet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shall go at once to my husband,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I shall tell him
+      everything. I shall act on his advice.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince stood over by the door, and she heard the key turn.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will do nothing of the sort,&rdquo; he said quietly. &ldquo;You are in my power
+      at last, Lucille. You will do my bidding, or&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Or what?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shall myself send for the police and give you into custody!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0035" id="link2HCH0035">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXXV
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The Prince crossed the hall and entered the morning-room. Felix was there
+      and Raoul de Brouillac. The Duchess sat at her writing-table, scribbling a
+      note. Lady Carey, in a wonderful white serge costume, and a huge bunch of
+      Neapolitan violets at her bosom, was lounging in an easy-chair, swinging
+      her foot backwards and forwards. The Duke, in a very old tweed coat, but
+      immaculate as to linen and the details of his toilet, stood a little
+      apart, with a frown upon his forehead, and exactly that absorbed air which
+      in the House of Lords usually indicated his intention to make a speech.
+      The entrance of the Prince, who carefully closed the door behind him, was
+      an event for which evidently they were all waiting.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My good people,&rdquo; he said blandly, &ldquo;I wish you all a very good-morning.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a little murmur of greetings, and before they had all subsided
+      the Duke spoke.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Saxe Leinitzer,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I have a few questions to ask you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince looked across the room at him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By all means, Duke,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;But is the present an opportune time?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Opportune or no, it is the time which I have selected,&rdquo; the Duke answered
+      stiffly. &ldquo;I do not altogether understand what is going on in this house. I
+      am beginning to wonder whether I have been misled.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince, as he twirled his fair moustache, glanced carelessly enough
+      across at the Duchess. She was looking the other way.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I became a&mdash;er&mdash;general member of this Society,&rdquo; the Duke
+      continued, &ldquo;sympathising heartily with its objects as explained to me by
+      you, Prince, and believing, although to confess it is somewhat of a
+      humiliation, that a certain amount of&mdash;er&mdash;combination amongst
+      the aristocracy has become necessary to resist the terrible increase of
+      Socialism which we must all so much deplore.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are not making a speech, dear,&rdquo; the Duchess remarked, looking coldly
+      across the room at him. &ldquo;We are all anxious to hear what the Prince has to
+      say to us.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your anxiety,&rdquo; the Duke continued, &ldquo;and the anxiety of our friends must
+      be restrained for a few minutes, for there are certain things which I am
+      determined to say, and to say them now. I must confess that it was at
+      first a painful shock to me to realise that the time had come when it was
+      necessary for us to take any heed of the uneducated rabble who seem born
+      into the world discontented with their station in life, and instead of
+      making honest attempts to improve it waste their time railing against us
+      who are more fortunately placed, and in endeavours to mislead in every
+      possible way the electorate of the country.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince sighed softly, and lit a cigarette. Lady Carey and Felix were
+      already smoking.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;However,&rdquo; the Duke continued, &ldquo;I was convinced. I have always believed in
+      the principle of watching closely the various signs of the times, and I
+      may say that I came to the conclusion that a combination of the thinking
+      members of the aristocratic party throughout the world was an excellent
+      idea. I therefore became what is, I believe, called a general member of
+      the Order, of which I believe you, Prince, are the actual head.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear James,&rdquo; the Duchess murmured, &ldquo;the Prince has something to say to
+      us.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Prince,&rdquo; her husband answered coldly, &ldquo;can keep back his information
+      for a few minutes. I am determined to place my position clearly before all
+      of you who are present here now. It is only since I have joined this
+      Society that I have been made aware that in addition to the general
+      members, of which body I believe that the Duchess and I are the sole
+      representatives here, there are special members, and members of the inner
+      circle. And I understand that in connection with these there is a great
+      machinery of intrigue going on all the time, with branches all over the
+      world, spies everywhere with unlimited funds, and with huge opportunities
+      of good or evil. In effect I have become an outside member of what is
+      nothing more nor less than a very powerful and, it seems to me, daring
+      secret society.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So far as you are concerned, Duke,&rdquo; the Prince said, &ldquo;your responsibility
+      ceases with ordinary membership. You can take no count of anything beyond.
+      The time may come when the inner circle may be opened to you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Duke coughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You misapprehend me,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I can assure you I am not anxious for
+      promotion. On the contrary, I stand before you an aggrieved person. I have
+      come to the conclusion that my house, and the shelter of my wife&rsquo;s name,
+      have been used for a plot, the main points of which have been kept wholly
+      secret from me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince flicked his cigarette ash into the grate.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear Dorset,&rdquo; he said gently, &ldquo;if you will allow me to explain&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I thank you, Saxe Leinitzer,&rdquo; the Duke said coldly, &ldquo;but it is beginning
+      to occur to me that I have had enough of your explanations. It seemed
+      natural enough to me, and I must say well conceived, that some attempt
+      should be made to modify the views of, if not wholly convert, Reginald
+      Brott by means of the influence of a very charming woman. It was my duty
+      as a member of the Order to assist in this, and the shelter of my house
+      and name were freely accorded to the Countess. But it is news to me to
+      find that she was brought here practically by force. That because she was
+      an inner member and therefore bound to implicit obedience that she was
+      dragged away from her husband, kept apart from him against her will,
+      forced into endeavours to make a fool of Brott even at the cost of her
+      good name. And now, worst of all, I am told that a very deeply laid plot
+      on the part of some of you will compel her to leave England almost at
+      once, and that her safety depends upon her inducing Reginald Brott to
+      accompany her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She has appealed to you,&rdquo; the Prince muttered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She has done nothing so sensible,&rdquo; the Duke answered drily. &ldquo;The facts
+      which I have just stated are known to every one in this room. I perhaps
+      know less than any one. But I know enough for this. I request, Saxe
+      Leinitzer, that you withdraw the name of myself and my wife from your list
+      of members, and that you understand clearly that my house is to be no more
+      used for meetings of the Society, formal or informal. And, further, though
+      I regret the apparent inhospitality of my action, my finger is now, as you
+      see, upon the bell, and I venture to wish you all a very good-morning.
+      Groves,&rdquo; he added to the servant who answered the door, &ldquo;the Prince of
+      Saxe Leinitzer&rsquo;s carriage is urgently required.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince and Lady Carey descended the broad steps side by side. She was
+      laughing softly but immoderately. The Prince was pale with fury.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pompous old ass,&rdquo; he muttered savagely. &ldquo;He may have a worse scandal in
+      his house now than he dreams of.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She wiped her eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have I not always told you,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;that intrigue in this country was
+      a sheer impossibility? You may lay your plans ever so carefully, but you
+      cannot foresee such a contretemps as this.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Idiot!&rdquo; the Prince cried. &ldquo;Oh, the dolt! Why, even his wife was amazed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He may be all those pleasant things,&rdquo; Lady Carey, said, &ldquo;but he is a
+      gentleman.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He stopped short. The footman was standing by the side of Lady Carey&rsquo;s
+      victoria with a rug on his arm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lucille,&rdquo; he said thoughtfully, &ldquo;is locked in the morning-room. She is
+      prostrate with fear. If the Duke sees her everything is over. Upon my
+      word, I have a good mind to throw this all up and cross to Paris to-night.
+      Let England breed her own revolutions. What do you say, Muriel? Will you
+      come with me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She laughed scornfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&rsquo;d as soon go with my coachman,&rdquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His eyebrows narrowed. A dull, purple flush crept to his forehead.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your wit,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;is a little coarse. Listen! You wish our first plan
+      to go through?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then you must get Lucille out of that house. If she is left there she is
+      absolutely lost to us. Apart from that, she is herself not safe. Our plan
+      worked out too well. She is really in danger from this Duson affair.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The laughter died away from Lady Carey&rsquo;s face. She hesitated with her foot
+      upon the step of her carriage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You can go back easily enough,&rdquo; the Prince said. &ldquo;You are the Duke&rsquo;s
+      cousin, and you were not included in his tirade. Lucille is in the
+      morning-room, and here is the key. I brought it away with me. You must
+      tell her that all our plans are broken, that we have certain knowledge
+      that the police are on the track of this Duson affair. Get her to your
+      house in Pont Street, and I will be round this afternoon. Or better still,
+      take her to mine.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey stepped back on to the pavement. She was still, however,
+      hesitating.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Leave her with the Duke and Duchess,&rdquo; the Prince said, &ldquo;and she will dine
+      with her husband to-night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey took the key from his hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will try,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;How shall you know whether I succeed?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will wait in the gardens,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;I shall be out of sight, but I
+      shall be able to see you come out. If you are alone I shall come to you.
+      If she is with you I shall be at your house in an hour, and I promise you
+      that she shall leave England to-night with me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Poor Brott!&rdquo; she murmured ironically.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He will follow her. Every one will believe that they left London
+      together. That is all that is required.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey re-entered the house. The Prince made his way into the gardens.
+      Ten minutes passed&mdash;a quarter of an hour. Then Lady Carey with
+      Lucille reappeared, and stepping quickly into the victoria were driven
+      away. The Prince drew a little sigh of relief. He looked at his watch,
+      called a hansom, and drove to his club for lunch.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Another man, who had also been watching Dorset House from the gardens for
+      several hours, also noted Lucille&rsquo;s advent with relief. He followed the
+      Prince out and entered another hansom.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Follow that victoria which has just driven off,&rdquo; he ordered. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t lose
+      sight of it. Double fare.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The trap-door fell, and the man whipped up his horse.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0036" id="link2HCH0036">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXXVI
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin received an early visitor whilst still lingering over a slight
+      but elegant breakfast. Passmore seated himself in an easy-chair and
+      accepted the cigar which his host himself selected for him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am glad to see you,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said. &ldquo;This affair of Duson&rsquo;s remains a
+      complete mystery to me. I am looking to you to help me solve it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The little man with the imperturbable face removed his cigar from his
+      mouth and contemplated it steadfastly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is mysterious,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;There are circumstances in connection with
+      it which even now puzzle me very much, very much indeed. There are
+      circumstances in connection with it also which I fear may be a shock to
+      you, sir.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My life,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, with a faint smile, &ldquo;has been made up of
+      shocks. A few more or less may not hurt me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Duson,&rdquo; the detective said, &ldquo;was at heart a faithful servant!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I believe it,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He was much attached to you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I believe it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is possible that unwittingly he died for you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin was silent. It was his way of avoiding a confession of surprise.
+      And he was surprised. &ldquo;You believe then,&rdquo; he said, after a moment&rsquo;s pause,
+      &ldquo;that the poison was intended for me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly I do,&rdquo; the detective answered. &ldquo;Duson was, after all, a valet,
+      a person of little importance. There is no one to whom his removal could
+      have been of sufficient importance to justify such extreme measures. With
+      you it is different.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin knocked the ash from his cigarette.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why not be frank with me, Mr. Passmore?&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;There is no need to
+      shelter yourself under professional reticence. Your connection with
+      Scotland Yard ended, I believe, some time ago. You are free to speak or to
+      keep silence. Do one or the other. Tell me what you think, and I will tell
+      you what I know. That surely will be a fair exchange. You shall have my
+      facts for your surmises.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Passmore&rsquo;s thin lips curled into a smile. &ldquo;You know that I have left
+      Scotland Yard then, sir?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Quite well! You are employed by them often, I believe, but you are not on
+      the staff, not since the affair of Nerman and the code book.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      If Passmore had been capable of reverence, his eyes looked it at that
+      moment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You knew this last night, sir?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Five years ago, sir,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I told my chief that in you the detective
+      police of the world had lost one who must have been their king. More and
+      more you convince me of it. I cannot believe that you are ignorant of the
+      salient points concerning Duson&rsquo;s death.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Treat me as being so, at any rate,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am pardoned,&rdquo; Passmore said, &ldquo;for speaking plainly of family matters&mdash;my
+      concern in which is of course purely professional?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin looked up for a moment, but he signified his assent.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You left America,&rdquo; Passmore said, &ldquo;in search of your wife, formerly
+      Countess of Radantz, who had left you unexpectedly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is true!&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madame la Duchesse on reaching London became the guest of the Duchess of
+      Dorset, where she has been staying since. Whilst there she has received
+      many visits from Mr. Reginald Brott.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin&rsquo;s face was as the face of a sphinx. He made no sign.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You do not waste your time, sir, over the Society papers. Yet you have
+      probably heard that Madame la Duchesse and Mr. Reginald Brott have been
+      written about and spoken about as intimate friends. They have been seen
+      together everywhere. Gossip has been busy with their names. Mr. Brott has
+      followed the Countess into circles which before her coming he zealously
+      eschewed. The Countess is everywhere regarded as a widow, and a marriage
+      has been confidently spoken of.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin bowed his head slightly. But of expression there was in his face
+      no sign.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;These things,&rdquo; Passmore continued, &ldquo;are common knowledge. I have spoken
+      up to now of nothing which is not known to the world. I proceed
+      differently.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good!&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is,&rdquo; Passmore continued, &ldquo;in the foreign district of London a man
+      named Emil Sachs, who keeps a curious sort of a wine-shop, and supplements
+      his earnings by disposing at a high figure of certain rare and deadly
+      poisons. A few days ago the Countess visited him and secured a small
+      packet of the most deadly drug the man possesses.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin sat quite still. He was unmoved.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Countess,&rdquo; Passmore continued, &ldquo;shortly afterwards visited these
+      rooms. An hour after her departure Duson was dead. He died from drinking
+      out of your liqueur glass, into which a few specks of that powder,
+      invisible almost to the naked eye, had been dropped. At Dorset House
+      Reginald Brott was waiting for her. He left shortly afterwards in a state
+      of agitation.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And from these things,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;you draw, I presume, the natural
+      inference that Madame la Duchesse, desiring to marry her old admirer,
+      Reginald Brott, first left me in America, and then, since I followed her
+      here, attempted to poison me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is,&rdquo; Passmore said, &ldquo;a good deal of evidence to that effect.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, handing him Duson&rsquo;s letter, &ldquo;is some evidence to
+      the contrary.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Passmore read the letter carefully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You believe this,&rdquo; he asked, &ldquo;to be genuine?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am sure of it!&rdquo; he answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You recognise the handwriting?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And this came into your possession&mdash;how?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I found it on the table by Duson&rsquo;s side.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You intend to produce it at the inquest?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think not,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a short silence. Passmore was revolving a certain matter in his
+      mind&mdash;thinking hard. Mr. Sabin was apparently trying to make rings of
+      the blue smoke from his cigarette.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Has it occurred to you,&rdquo; Passmore asked, &ldquo;to wonder for what reason your
+      wife visited these rooms on the morning of Duson&rsquo;s death?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I cannot say that it has.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She knew that you were not here,&rdquo; Passmore continued. &ldquo;She left no
+      message. She came closely veiled and departed unrecognised.&rdquo; Mr. Sabin
+      nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There were reasons,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;for that. But when you say that she left
+      no message you are mistaken.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Passmore nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go on,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin nodded towards a great vase of La France roses upon a side
+      table.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I found these here on my return,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;and attached to them the card
+      which I believe is still there. Go and look at it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Passmore rose and bent over the fragrant blossoms. The card still
+      remained, and on the back of it, in a delicate feminine handwriting:
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+                            &ldquo;For my husband,
+                            &ldquo;with love from
+                               &ldquo;Lucille.&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Passmore shrugged his shoulders. He had not the vice of obstinacy, and
+      he knew when to abandon a theory.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am corrected,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;In any case, a mystery remains as well worth
+      solving. Who are these people at whose instigation Duson was to have
+      murdered you&mdash;these people whom Duson feared so much that suicide was
+      his only alternative to obeying their behests?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin smiled faintly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, my dear Passmore,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;you must not ask me that question. I can
+      only answer you in this way. If you wish to make the biggest sensation
+      which has ever been created in the criminal world, to render yourself
+      immortal, and your fame imperishable&mdash;find out! I may not help you, I
+      doubt whether you will find any to help you. But if you want excitement,
+      the excitement of a dangerous chase after a tremendous quarry, take your
+      life in your hands, go in and win.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Passmore&rsquo;s withered little face lit up with a gleam of rare excitement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;These are your enemies, sir,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;They have attempted your life
+      once, they may do it again. Assume the offensive yourself. Give me a
+      hint.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That I cannot do,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I have saved you from wasting your time on a
+      false scent. I have given you something definite to work upon. Further
+      than that I can do nothing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Passmore looked his disappointment, but he knew Mr. Sabin better than to
+      argue the matter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will not even produce that letter at the inquest?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not even that,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Passmore rose to his feet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You must remember,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;that supposing any one else stumbles upon
+      the same trail as I have been pursuing, and suspicion is afterwards
+      directed towards madame, your not producing that letter at the inquest
+      will make it useless as evidence in her favour.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have considered all these things,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said. &ldquo;I shall deposit the
+      letter in a safe place. But its use will never be necessary. You are the
+      only man who might have forced me to produce it, and you know the truth.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Passmore rose reluctantly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I want you,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;to leave me not only your address, but the
+      means of finding you at any moment during the next four-and-twenty hours.
+      I may have some important work for you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man smiled as he tore leaf from his pocketbook and a made a few notes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shall be glad to take any commission from you, sir,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;To tell
+      you the truth, I scarcely thought that you would be content to sit down
+      and wait.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;that very shortly I can find you plenty to do.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0037" id="link2HCH0037">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXXVII
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin a few minutes afterwards ordered his carriage, and was driven to
+      Dorset House. He asked for Lucille, but was shown at once into the
+      library, where the Duke was awaiting him. Then Mr. Sabin knew that
+      something had happened.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Duke extended his hand solemnly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear Souspennier,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I am glad to see you. I was in fact on
+      the point of despatching a messenger to your hotel.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am glad,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin remarked, &ldquo;that my visit is opportune. To tell you
+      the truth, Duke, I am anxious to see my wife.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Duke coughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I trust,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;that you will not for a moment consider me guilty of
+      any discourtesy to the Countess, for whom I have a great respect and
+      liking. But it has come to my knowledge that the shelter of my roof and
+      name were being given to proceedings of which I heartily disapproved. I
+      therefore only a few hours ago formally broke off all connection with Saxe
+      Leinitzer and his friends, and to put the matter plainly, I expelled them
+      from the house.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I congratulate you heartily, Duke, upon a most sensible proceeding,&rdquo; Mr.
+      Sabin said. &ldquo;But in the meantime where is my wife?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your wife was not present at the time,&rdquo; the Duke answered, &ldquo;and I had not
+      the slightest intention of including her in the remarks I made. Whether
+      she understood this or not I cannot say, but I have since been given to
+      understand that she left with them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How long ago?&rdquo; Mr. Sabin asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Several hours, I fear,&rdquo; the Duke answered. &ldquo;I should like, Souspennier,
+      to express to you my regrets that I was ever induced to become connected
+      in any way with proceedings which must have caused you a great deal of
+      pain. I beg you to accept my apologies.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do not blame you, Duke,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said. &ldquo;My one desire now is to wrest
+      my wife away from this gang. Can you tell me whether she left alone or
+      with any of them?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will endeavour to ascertain,&rdquo; the Duke said, ringing the bell.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But before the Duke&rsquo;s somewhat long-winded series of questions had gone
+      very far Mr. Sabin grasped the fact that the servants had been tampered
+      with. Without wasting any more time he took a somewhat hurried leave and
+      drove back to the hotel. One of the hall porters approached him, smiling.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is a lady waiting for you in your rooms, sir,&rdquo; he announced. &ldquo;She
+      arrived a few minutes ago.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin rang for the elevator, got out at his floor and walked down the
+      corridor, leaning a little more heavily than usual upon his stick. If
+      indeed it were Lucille who had braved all and come to him the way before
+      them might still be smooth sailing. He would never let her go again. He
+      was sure of that. They would leave England&mdash;yes, there was time still
+      to catch the five o&rsquo;clock train. He turned the handle of his door and
+      entered. A familiar figure rose from the depths of his easy-chair. Her hat
+      lay on the table, her jacket was open, one of his cigarettes was between
+      her lips. But it was not Lucille.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lady Carey!&rdquo; he said slowly. &ldquo;This is an unexpected pleasure. Have you
+      brought Lucille with you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am afraid,&rdquo; she answered, &ldquo;that I have no ropes strong enough.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You insinuate,&rdquo; he remarked, &ldquo;that Lucille would be unwilling to come.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There is no longer any need,&rdquo; she declared, with a hard little laugh,
+      &ldquo;for insinuations. We have all been turned out from Dorset House neck and
+      crop. Lucille has accepted the inevitable. She has gone to Reginald&rsquo;s
+      Brott&rsquo;s rooms.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Indeed. I have just come from Dorset House myself. The Duke has supplied
+      me with a highly entertaining account of his sudden awakening. The
+      situation must have been humorous.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her eyes twinkled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was really screamingly funny. The Duke had on his house of Lords
+      manner, and we all sat round like a lot of naughty children. If only you
+      had been there.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin smiled. Suddenly she laid her hand upon his arm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Victor,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;I have come to prove that I am your friend. You do
+      not believe that Lucille is with Reginald Brott. It is true! Not only
+      that, but she is leaving England with him to-night. The man&rsquo;s devotion is
+      irresistible&mdash;he has been gaining on her slowly but surely all the
+      time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have noticed,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin remarked calmly, &ldquo;that he has been wonderfully
+      assiduous. I am sure I congratulate him upon his success, if he has
+      succeeded.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You doubt my word of course,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;But I have not come here to tell
+      you things. I have come to prove them. I presume that what you see with
+      your own eyes will be sufficient.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin shook his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly not,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;I make it a rule to believe nothing that I
+      see, and never to trust my ears.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She stamped her foot lightly upon the floor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How impossible you are,&rdquo; she exclaimed. &ldquo;I can tell you by what train
+      Lucille and Reginald Brott will leave London to-night. I can tell you why
+      Lucille is bound to go.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;you are beginning to get interesting.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lucille must go&mdash;or run the risk of arrest for complicity in the
+      murder of Duson.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you serious?&rdquo; Mr. Sabin asked, with admirably assumed gravity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is it a jesting matter?&rdquo; she answered fiercely. &ldquo;Lucille bought poison,
+      the same poison which it will be proved that Duson died of. She came here,
+      she was the last person to enter your room before Duson was found dead.
+      The police are even now searching for her. Escape is her only chance.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dear me,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said. &ldquo;Then it is not only for Brott&rsquo;s sake that she
+      is running away.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What does that matter? She is going, and she is going with him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And why,&rdquo; he asked, &ldquo;do you come to give me warning? I have plenty of
+      time to interpose.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You can try if you will. Lucille is in hiding. She will not see you if
+      you go to her. She is determined. Indeed, she has no choice. Lucille is a
+      brave woman in many ways, but you know that she fears death. She is in a
+      corner. She is forced to go.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Again,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I feel that I must ask you why do you give me warning?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She came and stood close to him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps,&rdquo; she said earnestly, &ldquo;I am anxious to earn your gratitude.
+      Perhaps, too, I know that no interposition of yours would be of any
+      avail.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Still,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I do not think that it is wise of you. I might appear
+      at the station and forcibly prevent Lucille&rsquo;s departure. After all, she is
+      my wife, you know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She shrugged her shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am not afraid,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;You will make inquiries when I have gone,
+      and you will find out that I have spoken the truth. If you keep Lucille in
+      England you will expose her to a terrible risk. It is not like you to be
+      selfish. You will yield to necessity.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will you tell me where Lucille is now?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For your own sake and hers, no,&rdquo; she answered. &ldquo;You also are watched.
+      Besides, it is too late. She was with Brott half an hour after the Duke
+      turned us out of Dorset House. Don&rsquo;t you understand, Victor&mdash;won&rsquo;t
+      you? It is too late.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He sat down heavily in his easy-chair. His whole appearance was one of
+      absolute dejection.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So I am to be left alone in my old age,&rdquo; he murmured. &ldquo;You have your
+      revenge now at last. You have come to take it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She sank on her knees by the side of his chair, and her arms fell upon his
+      shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How can you think so cruelly of me, Victor,&rdquo; she murmured. &ldquo;You were
+      always a little mistaken in Lucille. She loved you, it is true, but all
+      her life she has been fond of change and excitement. She came to Europe
+      willingly&mdash;long before this Brott would have been her slave save for
+      your reappearance. Can&rsquo;t you forget her&mdash;for a little while?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin sat quite still. Her hair brushed his cheeks, her arms were
+      about his neck, her whole attitude was an invitation for his embrace. But
+      he sat like a figure of stone, neither repulsing nor encouraging her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You need not be alone unless you like,&rdquo; she whispered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am an old man,&rdquo; he said slowly, &ldquo;and this is a hard blow for me to
+      bear. I must be sure, absolutely sure that she has gone.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By this time to-morrow,&rdquo; she murmured, &ldquo;all the world will know it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come to me then,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I shall need consolation.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her eyes were bright with triumph. She leaned over him and kissed him on
+      the lips. Then she sprang lightly to her feet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wait here for me,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;and I will come to you. You shall know,
+      Victor, that Lucille is not the only woman in the world who has cared for
+      you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a tap at the door. Lady Carey was busy adjusting her hat.
+      Passmore entered, and stood hesitating upon the threshold. Mr. Sabin had
+      risen to his feet. He took one of her hands and raised it to his lips. She
+      gave him a swift, wonderful look and passed out.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin&rsquo;s manner changed as though by magic. He was at once alert and
+      vigorous.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My dear Passmore,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;come to the table. We shall want those
+      Continental time-tables and the London A.B.C. You will have to take a
+      journey to-night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0038" id="link2HCH0038">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXXVIII
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The two women were alone in the morning-room of Lady Carey&rsquo;s house in Pont
+      Street. Lucille was walking restlessly up and down twisting her
+      handkerchief between her fingers. Lady Carey was watching her, more
+      composed, to all outward appearance, but with closely compressed lips, and
+      boding gleam in her eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think,&rdquo; Lady Carey said, &ldquo;that you had better see him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille turned almost fiercely upon her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And why?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, for one thing he will not understand your refusal. He may be
+      suspicious.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What does it matter? I have finished with him. I have done all that I
+      pledged myself to. What more can be expected of me? I do not wish to see
+      him again.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At least,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;I think that the poor man has a right to receive
+      his congé from you. You cannot break with him without a word of
+      explanation. Perhaps&mdash;you may not find it so easy as it seems.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille swept around.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you mean?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey shrugged her shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are in a curious mood, my dear Lucille. What I mean is obvious
+      enough. Brott is a strong man and a determined man. I do not think that he
+      will enjoy being made a fool of.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille was indifferent.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At any rate,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;I shall not see him. I have quite made up my
+      mind about that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And why not, Countess?&rdquo; a deep voice asked from the threshold. &ldquo;What have
+      I done? May I not at least know my fault?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey rose and moved towards the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You shall have it out between yourselves,&rdquo; she declared, looking up, and
+      nodding at Brott as she passed. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t fight!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Muriel!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The cry was imperative, but Lady Carey had gone. Mr. Brott closed the door
+      behind him and confronted Lucille. A brilliant spot of colour flared in
+      her pale cheeks.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But this is a trap!&rdquo; she exclaimed. &ldquo;Who sent for you? Why did you come?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He looked at her in surprise.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lucille!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      His eyes were full of passionate remonstrance. She looked nervously from
+      him towards the door. He intercepted her glance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What have I done?&rdquo; he asked fiercely. &ldquo;What have I failed to do? Why do
+      you look as though I had forced myself upon you? Haven&rsquo;t I the right?
+      Don&rsquo;t you wish to see me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In Brott&rsquo;s face and tone was all the passionate strenuousness of a great
+      crisis. Lucille felt suddenly helpless before the directness of his gaze,
+      his storm of questions. In all their former intercourse it had been she
+      who by virtue of her sex and his blind love for her had kept the upper
+      hand. And now the position was changed. All sorts of feeble explanations,
+      of appeals to him, occurred to her dimly, only to be rejected by reason of
+      their ridiculous inadequacy. She was silent-abjectly silent.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He came a little closer to her, and the strength of the man was manifest
+      in his intense self-restraint. His words were measured, his tone quiet.
+      Yet both somehow gave evidence of the smouldering fires beneath.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lucille,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I find you hard to understand to-day. You have made
+      me your slave, you came once more into my life at its most critical
+      moment, and for your sake I have betrayed a great trust. My conscience, my
+      faith, and although that counts for little, my political career, were in
+      the balance against my love for you. You know which conquered. At your
+      bidding I have made myself the jest of every man who buys the halfpenny
+      paper and calls himself a politician. My friends heap abuse upon me, my
+      enemies derision. I cannot hold my position in this new Cabinet. I had
+      gone too far for compromise. I wonder if you quite understand what has
+      happened?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I have heard too much,&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;Spare me the rest.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He continued as though he had not heard her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Men who have been my intimate associates for many years, and whose
+      friendship was dear to me, cross the road to avoid: meeting me, day by day
+      I am besieged with visitors and letters from the suffering people to whom
+      my word had been pledged, imploring me for some explanation, for one word
+      of denial. Life has become a hell for me, a pestilent, militant hell! Yet,
+      Lucille, unless you break faith with me I make no complaint. I am
+      content.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am very sorry,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I do not think that you have properly
+      understood me. I have never made you any promise.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      For a moment he lost control of himself. She shrank back at the blaze of
+      indignation, half scornful, half incredulous, which lit up his clear, grey
+      eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is a lie!&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;Between you and me it can be no question of
+      words. You were always very careful of your pledges, but there are limits
+      even to your caution&mdash;as to my forbearance. A woman does not ask a
+      man who is pleading to her for her love to give up everything else he
+      cares for in life without hope of reward. It is monstrous! I never sought
+      you under false pretenses. I never asked you for your friendship. I wanted
+      you. I told you so plainly. You won&rsquo;t deny that you gave me hope&mdash;encouraged
+      me? You can&rsquo;t even deny that I am within my rights if I claim now at this
+      instant the reward for my apostasy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her hands were suddenly locked in his. She felt herself being drawn into
+      his arms. With a desperate effort she avoided his embrace. He still held
+      her left wrist, and his face was dark with passion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let me go!&rdquo; she pleaded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not I!&rdquo; he answered, with an odd, choked little laugh. &ldquo;You belong to me.
+      I have paid the price. I, too, am amongst the long list of those poor
+      fools who have sold their gods and their honour for a woman&rsquo;s kiss. But I
+      will not be left wholly destitute. You shall pay me for what I have lost.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, you are mad!&rdquo; she answered. &ldquo;How could you have deceived yourself so?
+      Don&rsquo;t you know that my husband is in London?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The man who calls himself Mr. Sabin?&rdquo; he answered roughly. &ldquo;What has that
+      to do with it? You are living apart. Saxe Leinitzer and the Duchess have
+      both told me the history of your married life. Or is the whole thing a
+      monstrous lie?&rdquo; he cried, with a sudden dawning sense of the truth.
+      &ldquo;Nonsense! I won&rsquo;t believe it. Lucille! You&rsquo;re not afraid! I shall be good
+      to you. You don&rsquo;t doubt that. Sabin will divorce you of course. You won&rsquo;t
+      lose your friends. I&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was a sudden loud tapping at the door. Brott dropped her wrist and
+      turned round with an exclamation of anger. To Lucille it was a Heaven-sent
+      interposition. The Prince entered, pale, and with signs of hurry and
+      disorder about his usually immaculate person.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are both here,&rdquo; he exclaimed. &ldquo;Good! Lucille, I must speak with you
+      urgently in five minutes. Brott, come this way with me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille sank into a chair with a little murmur of relief. The Prince led
+      Brott into another room, and closed the door carefully behind him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Brott,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;can I speak to you as a friend of Lucille&rsquo;s?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Brott, who distrusted the Prince, looked him steadily in the face. Saxe
+      Leinitzer&rsquo;s agitation was too apparent to be wholly assumed. He had all
+      the appearance of being a man desperately in earnest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have always considered myself one,&rdquo; Brott answered. &ldquo;I am beginning to
+      doubt, however, whether the Countess holds me in the same estimation.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You found her hysterical, unreasonable, overwrought!&rdquo; the Prince
+      exclaimed. &ldquo;That is so, eh?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince drew a long breath.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Brott,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I am forced to confide in you. Lucille is in terrible
+      danger. I am not sure that there is anybody who can effectually help her
+      but you. Are you prepared to make a great sacrifice for her sake&mdash;to
+      leave England at once, to take her to the uttermost part of the world?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Brott&rsquo;s eyes were suddenly bright. The Prince quailed before the
+      fierceness of his gaze.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She would not go!&rdquo; he exclaimed sharply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She will,&rdquo; the Prince answered. &ldquo;She must! Not only that, but you will
+      earn her eternal gratitude. Listen, I must tell you the predicament in
+      which we find ourselves. It places Lucille&rsquo;s life in your hands.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The exclamation came like a pistol shot. The Prince held up his hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do not interrupt. Let me speak. Every moment is very valuable. You heard
+      without doubt of the sudden death at the Carlton Hotel. It took place in
+      Mr. Sabin&rsquo;s sitting-room. The victim was Mr. Sabin&rsquo;s servant. The inquest
+      was this afternoon. The verdict was death from the effect of poison. The
+      police are hot upon the case. There was no evidence as to the person by
+      whom the poison was administered, but by a hideous combination of
+      circumstances one person before many hours have passed will be under the
+      surveillance of the police.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And that person?&rdquo; Brott asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince looked round and lowered his voice, although the room was
+      empty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lucille,&rdquo; he whispered hoarsely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Brott stepped backwards as though he were shot.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What damned folly!&rdquo; he exclaimed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is possible that you may not think so directly,&rdquo; Saxe Leinitzer
+      continued. &ldquo;The day it happened Lucille bought this same poison, and it is
+      a rare one, from a man who has absconded. An hour before this man was
+      found dead, she called at the hotel, left no name, but went upstairs to
+      Mr. Sabin&rsquo;s room, and was alone there for five minutes, The man died from
+      a single grain of poison which had been introduced into Mr. Sabin&rsquo;s
+      special liqueur glass, out of which he was accustomed to drink three or
+      four times a day. All these are absolute facts, which at any moment may be
+      discovered by the police. Added to that she is living apart from her
+      husband, and is known to be on bad terms with him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Brott as gripping the back of a chair. He was white to the lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You don&rsquo;t think,&rdquo; he cried hoarsely. &ldquo;You can&rsquo;t believe&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No&rdquo; the Prince answered quickly, &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t believe anything of the sort. I
+      will tell you as man to man that I believe she wished Mr. Sabin dead. You
+      yourself should know why. But no, I don&rsquo;t believe she went so far as that.
+      It was an accident. But what we have to do is to save her. Will you help?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She must cross to the Continent to-night before the police get on the
+      scent. Afterwards she must double back to Havre and take the Bordlaise for
+      New York on Saturday. Once there I can guarantee her protection.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She cannot go alone.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You mean that I should go with her?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes! Get her right away, and I will employ special detectives and have
+      the matter cleared up, if ever it can be. But if she remains here I fear
+      that nothing can save her from the horror of an arrest, even if afterwards
+      we are able to save her. You yourself risk much, Brott. The only question
+      that remains is, will you do it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At her bidding&mdash;yes!&rdquo; Brott declared.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wait here,&rdquo; the Prince answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0039" id="link2HCH0039">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXXIX
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Saxe Leinitzer returned to the morning-room, and taking the key from his
+      pocket unlocked the door. Inside Lucille was pale with fury.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What! I am a prisoner, then!&rdquo; she exclaimed. &ldquo;How dare you lock me in?
+      This is not your house. Let me pass! I am tired of all this stupid
+      espionage.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince stood with his back to the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is for your own sake, Lucille. The house is watched.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She sank into a low chair, trembling. The Prince had all the appearance of
+      a man himself seriously disturbed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lucille,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;we will do what we can for you. The whole thing is
+      horribly unfortunate. You must leave England to-night. Muriel will go with
+      you. Her presence will help to divert suspicion. Once you can reach Paris
+      I can assure you of safety. But in this country I am almost powerless.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I must see Victor,&rdquo; she said in a low tone. &ldquo;I will not go without.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have thought of that. There is no reason, Lucille, why he should not be
+      the one to lead you into safety.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You mean that?&rdquo; she cried.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I mean it,&rdquo; the Prince answered. &ldquo;After what has happened you are of
+      course of no further use to us. I am inclined to think, too, that we have
+      been somewhat exacting. I will send a messenger to Souspennier to meet you
+      at Charing Cross to-night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She sprang up.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let me write it myself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well,&rdquo; he agreed, with a shrug of the shoulders. &ldquo;But do not address
+      or sign it. There is danger in any communication between you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She took a sheet of note-paper and hastily wrote a few words.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have need of your help. Will you be at Charing Cross at twelve o&rsquo;clock
+      prepared for a journey.&mdash;Lucille.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince took the letter from her and hastily folded it up.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will deliver it myself,&rdquo; he announced. &ldquo;It will perhaps be safest.
+      Until I return, Lucille, do not stir from the house or see any one. Muriel
+      has given the servants orders to admit no one. All your life,&rdquo; he added,
+      after a moment&rsquo;s pause, &ldquo;you have been a little cruel to me, and this time
+      also. I shall pray that you will relent before our next meeting.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She rose to her feet and looked him full in the face. She seemed to be
+      following out her own train of thought rather than taking note of his
+      words.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Even now,&rdquo; she said thoughtfully, &ldquo;I am not sure that I can trust you. I
+      have a good mind to fight or scream my way out of this house, and go
+      myself to see Victor.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He shrugged his shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The fighting or the screaming will not be necessary, dear Countess,&rdquo; he
+      said. &ldquo;The doors are open to you. But it is as clear as day that if you go
+      to the hotel or near it you will at once be recognised, and recognition
+      means arrest. There is a limit beyond which one cannot help a wilful
+      woman. Take your life in your hands and go your own way, or trust in us
+      who are doing our best to save you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And what of Reginald Brott?&rdquo; she asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Brott?&rdquo; the Prince repeated impatiently. &ldquo;Who cares what becomes of him?
+      You have made him seem a fool, but, Lucille, to tell you the truth, I am
+      sorry that we did not leave this country altogether alone. There is not
+      the soil for intrigue here, or the possibility. Then, too, the police
+      service is too stolid, too inaccessible. And even our friends, for whose
+      aid we are here&mdash;well, you heard the Duke. The cast-iron Saxon idiocy
+      of the man. The aristocracy here are what they call bucolic. It is their
+      own fault. They have intermarried with parvenus and Americans for
+      generations. They are a race by themselves. We others may shake ourselves
+      free from them. I would work in any country of the globe for the good of
+      our cause, but never again in England.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille shivered a little.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am not in the humour for argument,&rdquo; she declared. &ldquo;If you would earn my
+      gratitude take that note to my husband. He is the only man I feel sure of&mdash;whom
+      I know can protect me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince bowed low.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is our farewell, Countess,&rdquo; he said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I cannot pretend,&rdquo; she answered, &ldquo;to regret it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Saxe Leinitzer left the room. There was a peculiar smile upon his lips as
+      he crossed the hall. Brott was still awaiting for him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Brott,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;the Countess is, as I feared, too agitated to see
+      you again for the present, or any one else. She sends you, however, this
+      message.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He took the folded paper from his waistcoat pocket and handed it to the
+      other man. Brott read it through eagerly. His eyes shone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She accepts the situation, then?&rdquo; he exclaimed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Precisely! Will you pardon me, my friend, if I venture upon one other
+      word. Lucille is not an ordinary woman. She is not in the least like the
+      majority of her sex, especially, I might add, amongst us. The fact that
+      her husband was living would seriously influence her consideration of any
+      other man&mdash;as her lover. The present crisis, however, has changed
+      everything. I do not think that you will have cause to complain of her
+      lack of gratitude.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Brott walked out into the streets with the half sheet of note-paper
+      twisted up between his fingers. For the first time for months he was
+      conscious of a distinct and vivid sense of happiness. The terrible period
+      of indecision was past. He knew now where he stood. Nor was his immediate
+      departure from England altogether unpleasant to him. His political career
+      was shattered&mdash;friends and enemies were alike cold to him. Such an
+      act of cowardice as his, such pitiful shrinking back at the last fateful
+      moment, was inexplicable and revolting. Even Letheringham was barely
+      civil. It was certain that his place in the Cabinet would be intolerable.
+      He yearned for escape from it all, and the means of escape were now at
+      hand. In after years he knew very well that the shadow of his broken
+      trust, the torture of his misused opportunities, would stand for ever
+      between him and the light. But at that moment he was able to clear his
+      mind of all such disquieting thoughts. He had won Lucille&mdash;never mind
+      at what cost, at what peril! He had won Lucille!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He was deeply engrossed, and his name was spoken twice in his ear before
+      he turned round. A small, somewhat shabby-looking man, with tired eyes and
+      more than a day&rsquo;s growth of beard upon his chin, had accosted him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Brott, sir. A word with you, please.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Brott held out his hand. Nevertheless his tone when he spoke lacked
+      heartiness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You, Hedley! Why, what brings you to London?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The little man did not seem to see the hand. At any rate he made no motion
+      to take it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A few minutes&rsquo; chat with Mr. Brott. That&rsquo;s what I&rsquo;ve come for.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Brott raised his eyebrows, and nodded in somewhat constrained fashion.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I am on my way to my rooms. We can talk as we go, if you
+      like. I am afraid the good people up in your part of the world are not too
+      well pleased with me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The little man smiled rather queerly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That is quite true,&rdquo; he answered calmly. &ldquo;They hate a liar and a
+      turn-coat. So do I!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Brott stopped short upon the pavement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If you are going to talk like that to me, Hedley,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;the less you
+      have to say the better.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very well,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;What I have to say won&rsquo;t take me very long. But as
+      I&rsquo;ve tramped most of the way up here to say it, you&rsquo;ll have to listen here
+      or somewhere else. I thought you were always one who liked the truth.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So I do!&rdquo; Brott answered. &ldquo;Go on!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man shuffled along by his side. They were an odd-looking pair, for
+      Brott was rather a careful man as regards his toilet, and his companion
+      looked little better than a tramp.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All my life,&rdquo; he continued, &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve been called &lsquo;Mad Hedley,&rsquo; or &lsquo;Hedley,
+      the mad tailor.&rsquo; Sometimes one and sometimes the other. It don&rsquo;t matter
+      which. There&rsquo;s truth in, it. I am a bit mad. You, Mr. Brott, were one of
+      those who understood me a little. I have brooded a good deal perhaps, and
+      things have got muddled up in my brain. You know what has been at the
+      bottom of it all.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I began making speeches when I was a boy. People laughed at me, but I&rsquo;ve
+      set many a one a-thinking. I&rsquo;m no anarchist, although people call me one.
+      I&rsquo;ll admit that I admire the men who set the French Revolution going. If
+      such a thing happened in this country I&rsquo;d be one of the first to join in.
+      But I&rsquo;ve never had a taste for bloodshed. I&rsquo;d rather the thing had been
+      done without. From the first you seemed to be the man who might have
+      brought it about. We listened to you, we watched your career, and we began
+      to have hopes. Mr. Brott, the bodies and souls of millions of your
+      fellow-creatures were in the hollow of your hand. It was you who might
+      have set them free. It was you who might have made this the greatest, the
+      freest, the happiest country in the world. Not so much for us perhaps as
+      for our children, and our children&rsquo;s children. We didn&rsquo;t expect a huge
+      social upheaval in a week, or even a decade of years. But we did expect to
+      see the first blow struck. Oh, yes, we expected that.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have disappointed you, I know, you and many others,&rdquo; Brott said
+      bitterly. &ldquo;I wish I could explain. But I can&rsquo;t!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, it doesn&rsquo;t matter,&rdquo; the man answered. &ldquo;You have broken the hearts of
+      thousands of suffering men and women&mdash;you who might have led them
+      into the light, have forged another bolt in the bars which stand between
+      them and liberty. So they must live on in the darkness, dull, dumb
+      creatures with just spirit enough to spit and curse at the sound of your
+      name. It was the greatest trust God ever placed in one man&rsquo;s hand&mdash;and
+      you&mdash;you abused it. They were afraid of you&mdash;the aristocrats,
+      and they bought you. Oh, we are not blind up there&mdash;there are
+      newspapers in our public houses, and now and then one can afford a
+      half-penny. We have read of you at their parties and their dances. Quite
+      one of them you have become, haven&rsquo;t you? But, Mr. Brott, have you never
+      been afraid? Have you never said to yourself, there is justice in the
+      earth? Suppose it finds me out?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hedley, you are talking rubbish,&rdquo; Brott said. &ldquo;Up here you would see
+      things with different eyes. Letheringham is pledged.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If any man ever earned hell,&rdquo; Hedley continued, &ldquo;it is you, Brott, you
+      who came to us a deliverer, and turned out to be a lying prophet. &lsquo;Hell,&rsquo;&rdquo;
+       he repeated fiercely, &ldquo;and may you find it swiftly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man&rsquo;s right hand came out of his long pocket. They were in the thick
+      of Piccadilly, but his action was too swift for any interference. Four
+      reports rang suddenly out, and the muzzle of the revolver was held
+      deliberately within an inch or so of Brett&rsquo;s heart. And before even the
+      nearest of the bystanders could realise what had happened Brott lay across
+      the pavement a dead man, and Hedley was calmly handing over the revolver
+      to a policeman who had sprang across the street.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Be careful, officer,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;there are still two chambers loaded. I
+      will come with you quite quietly. That is Mr. Reginald Brott, the Cabinet
+      Minister, and I have killed him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0040" id="link2HCH0040">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XL
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For once,&rdquo; Lady Carey said, with a faint smile, &ldquo;your &lsquo;admirable
+      Crichton&rsquo; has failed you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille opened her eyes. She had been leaning back amongst the railway
+      cushions.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think not,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Only I blame myself that I ever trusted the
+      Prince even so far as to give him that message. For I know very well that
+      if Victor had received it he would have been here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey took up a great pile of papers and looked them carelessly
+      through.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am afraid,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;that I do not agree with you. I do not think
+      that Saxe Leinitzer had any desire except to see you safely away. I
+      believe that he will be quite as disappointed as you are that your husband
+      is not here to aid you. Some one must see you safely on the steamer at
+      Havre. Perhaps he will come himself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shall wait in Paris,&rdquo; Lucille said quietly, &ldquo;for my husband.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You may wait,&rdquo; Lady Carey said, &ldquo;for a very long time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille looked at her steadily. &ldquo;What do you mean?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What a fool you are, Lucille. If to other people it seems almost certain
+      on the face of it that you were responsible for that drop of poison in
+      your husband&rsquo;s liqueur glass, why should it not seem so to himself?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille laughed, but there was a look of horror in her dark eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How absurd. I know Victor better than to believe him capable of such a
+      suspicion. Just as he knows me better than to believe me capable of such
+      an act.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Really. But you were in his rooms secretly just before.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I went to leave some roses for him,&rdquo; Lucille answered. &ldquo;And if you would
+      like to know it, I will tell you this. I left my card tied to them with a
+      message for him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey yawned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A remarkably foolish thing to do,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;That may cause you trouble
+      later on. Great heavens, what is this?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She held the evening paper open in her hand. Lucille leaned over with
+      blanched face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What has happened?&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;Tell me, can&rsquo;t you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Reginald Brott has been shot in Piccadilly,&rdquo; Lady Carey said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is he hurt?&rdquo; Lucille asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is dead!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They read the brief announcement together. The deed had been committed by
+      a man whose reputation for sanity had long been questioned, one of Brott&rsquo;s
+      own constituents. He was in custody, and freely admitted his guilt. The
+      two women looked at one another in horror. Even Lady Carey was affected.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What a hateful thing,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I am glad that we had no hand in it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you so sure that we hadn&rsquo;t?&rdquo; Lucille asked bitterly. &ldquo;You see what it
+      says. The man killed him because of his political apostasy. We had
+      something to do with that at least.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey was recovering her sang froid.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, well,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;indirect influences scarcely count, or one might
+      trace the causes of everything which happens back to an absurd extent. If
+      this man was mad he might just as well have shot Brott for anything.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille made no answer. She leaned back and closed her eyes. She did not
+      speak again till they reached Dover.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      They embarked in the drizzling rain. Lady Carey drew a little breath of
+      relief as they reached their cabin, and felt the boat move beneath them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank goodness that we are really off. I have been horribly nervous all
+      the time. If they let you leave England they can have no suspicion as
+      yet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille was putting on an ulster and cap to go out on deck.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am not at all sure,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;that I shall not return to England. At
+      any rate, if Victor does not come to me in Paris I shall go to him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What beautiful trust!&rdquo; Lady Carey answered. &ldquo;My dear Lucille, you are
+      more like a school-girl than a woman of the world.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A steward entered with a telegram for Lucille. It was banded in at the
+      Haymarket, an hour before their departure. Lucille read it, and her face
+      blanched. &ldquo;I thank you for your invitation, but I fear that it would not
+      be good for my health.&mdash;S.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey looked over her shoulder. She laughed hardly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How brutal!&rdquo; she murmured. &ldquo;But, then, Victor can be brutal sometimes,
+      can&rsquo;t he?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille tore it into small pieces without a word. Lady Carey waited for a
+      remark from her in vain.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I, too,&rdquo; she said at last, &ldquo;have had some telegrams. I have been
+      hesitating whether to show them to you or not. Perhaps you had better see
+      them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She produced them and spread them out. The first was dated about the same
+      time as the one Lucille had received.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have seen S. with message from Lucille. Fear quite useless, as he
+      believes worst.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The second was a little longer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have just heard S. has left for Liverpool, and has engaged berth in
+      Campania, sailing to-morrow. Break news to Lucille if you think well. Have
+      wired him begging return, and promising full explanation.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If these,&rdquo; Lucille said calmly, &ldquo;belonged to me I should treat them as I
+      have my own.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you mean?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I should tear them up.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey shrugged her shoulders with the air of one who finds further
+      argument hopeless.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I shall have no more to say to you, Lucille, on this subject,&rdquo; she said.
+      &ldquo;You are impossible. In a few days you will be forced to come round to my
+      point of view. I will wait till then. And in the meantime, if you think I
+      am going to tramp up and down those sloppy decks and gaze at the sea you
+      are very much mistaken. I am going to lie down like a civilized being, and
+      try and get a nap. You had better do the same.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For my part,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;I find any part of the steamer except the deck
+      intolerable. I am going now in search of some fresh air. Shall I send your
+      woman along?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey nodded, for just then the steamer gave a violent lurch, and she
+      was not feeling talkative. Lucille went outside and walked up and down
+      until the lights of Calais were in sight. All the time she felt conscious
+      of the observation of a small man clad in a huge mackintosh, whose peaked
+      cap completely obscured his features. As they were entering the harbour
+      she purposely stood by his side. He held on to the rail with one hand and
+      turned towards her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It has been quite a rough passage, has it not?&rdquo; he remarked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have crossed,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;when it has been much worse. I do not mind so
+      long as one may come on deck.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your friend,&rdquo; he remarked, &ldquo;is perhaps not so good a sailor?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I believe,&rdquo; Lucille said, &ldquo;that she suffers a great deal. I just looked
+      in at her, and she was certainly uncomfortable.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The little man gripped the rail and held on to his cap with the other
+      hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are going to Paris?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They were in smoother water now. He was able to relax his grip of the
+      rail. He turned towards Lucille, and she saw him for the first time
+      distinctly&mdash;a thin, wizened-up little man, with shrewd kindly eyes,
+      and a long deeply cut mouth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I trust,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;that you will not think me impertinent, but it
+      occurred to me that you have noticed some apparent interest of mine in
+      your movements since you arrived on the boat.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is true,&rdquo; she answered. &ldquo;That is why I came and stood by your side.
+      What do you want with me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing, madam,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;I am here altogether in your interests. If
+      you should want help I shall be somewhere near you for the next few hours.
+      Do not hesitate to appeal to me. My mission here is to be your protector
+      should you need one.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille&rsquo;s eyes grew bright, and her heart beat quickly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tell me,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;who sent you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think that you know,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;One who I can assure you will never
+      allow you to suffer any harm. I have exceeded my instructions in speaking
+      to you, but I fancied that you were looking worried. You need not. I can
+      assure you that you need have no cause.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her eyes filled with tears.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I knew,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;that those telegrams were forgeries.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He looked carefully around.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know nothing about any telegrams,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;but I am here to see that
+      no harm comes to you, and I promise you that it shall not. Your friend is
+      looking out of the cabin door. I think we may congratulate ourselves,
+      madam, on an excellent passage.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey disembarked, a complete wreck, leaning on the arm of her maid,
+      and with a bottle of smelling salts clutched in her hand. She slept all
+      the way in the train, and only woke up when they were nearing Paris. She
+      looked at Lucille in astonishment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, what on earth have you been doing to yourself?&rdquo; she exclaimed. &ldquo;You
+      look disgustingly fit and well.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille laughed softly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why not? I have had a nap, and we are almost at Paris. I only want a bath
+      and a change of clothes to feel perfectly fresh.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But Lady Carey was suspicious.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have you seen any one you know upon the train?&rdquo; she asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille shook her head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not a soul. A little man whom I spoke to on the steamer brought me some
+      coffee. That is all.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey yawned and shook out her skirts. &ldquo;I suppose I&rsquo;m getting old,&rdquo;
+       she said. &ldquo;I couldn&rsquo;t look as you do with as much on my mind as you must
+      have, and after traveling all night too.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;After all,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;you know that I am a professional optimist, and I
+      have faith in my luck. I have been thinking matters over calmly, and, to
+      tell you the truth, I am not in the least alarmed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey looked at her curiously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Has the optimism been imbibed,&rdquo; she asked, &ldquo;or is it spontaneous?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Unless the little man in the plaid mackintosh poured it into the coffee
+      with the milk,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;I could not possibly have imbibed it, for I
+      haven&rsquo;t spoken to another soul since we left.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Paris! Here we are, thank goodness. Celeste can see the things through
+      the customs. She is quite used to it. We are going to the Ritz, I
+      suppose!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0041" id="link2HCH0041">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XLI
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      At eight o&rsquo;clock in the evening Lucille knocked at the door of Lady
+      Carey&rsquo;s suite of rooms at the hotel. There was no answer. A chambermaid
+      who was near came smiling up.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Miladi has, I think, descended for dinner,&rdquo; she said.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille looked at her watch. She saw that she was a few minutes late, so
+      she descended to the restaurant. The small table which they had reserved
+      was, however, still unoccupied. Lucille told the waiter that she would
+      wait for a few moments, and sent for an English newspaper.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey did not appear. A quarter of an hour passed. The head waiter
+      came up with a benign smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madam will please to be served?&rdquo; he suggested, with a bow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am waiting for my friend Lady Carey,&rdquo; Lucille answered. &ldquo;I understood
+      that she had come down. Perhaps you will send and see if she is in the
+      reading-room.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;With much pleasure, madam,&rdquo; the man answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In a few minutes he returned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madam&rsquo;s friend was the Lady Carey?&rdquo; he asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The man was gently troubled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, Miladi Carey,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;has left more than an hour ago.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille looked up, astonished.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Left the hotel?&rdquo; she exclaimed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But yes, madam,&rdquo; he exclaimed. &ldquo;Miladi Carey left to catch the boat train
+      at Calais for England.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is impossible,&rdquo; Lucille answered. &ldquo;We only arrived at midday.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will inquire again,&rdquo; the man declared. &ldquo;But it was in the office that
+      they told me so.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They told you quite correctly,&rdquo; said a familiar voice. &ldquo;I have come to
+      take her place. Countess, I trust that in me you will recognise an
+      efficient substitute.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It was the Prince of Saxe Leinitzer who was calmly seating himself
+      opposite to her. The waiter, with the discretion of his class, withdrew
+      for a few paces and stood awaiting orders. Lucille looked across at him in
+      amazement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You here?&rdquo; she exclaimed, &ldquo;and Muriel gone? What does this mean?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince leaned forward.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It means,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;that after you left I was in torment. I felt that
+      you had no one with you who could be of assistance supposing the worst
+      happened. Muriel is all very well, but she is a woman, and she has no
+      diplomacy, no resource. I felt, Lucille, that I should not be happy unless
+      I myself saw you into safety.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So you followed us here,&rdquo; Lucille remarked quietly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Exactly! You do not blame me. It was for your sake&mdash;as well as my
+      own.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And Muriel&mdash;why has she left me without farewell&mdash;without
+      warning of any sort?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince smiled and stroked his fair moustache.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;it is rather an awkward thing for me to explain, but to
+      tell you the truth, Muriel was a little&mdash;more than a little&mdash;annoyed
+      at my coming. She has no right to be, but&mdash;well, you know, she is
+      what you call a monopolist. She and I have been friends for many years.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I understand perfectly what you have wished to convey,&rdquo; Lucille said.
+      &ldquo;But what I do not understand are the exact reasons which brought you
+      here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince took up the carte de jour.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As we dine,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I will tell you. You will permit me to order?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille rose to her feet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For yourself, certainly,&rdquo; she answered. &ldquo;As for me, I have accepted no
+      invitation to dine with you, nor do I propose to do so.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince frowned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Be reasonable, Lucille,&rdquo; he pleaded. &ldquo;I must talk with you. There are
+      important plans to be made. I have a great deal to say to you. Sit down.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille looked across at him with a curious smile upon her lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have a good deal to say to me?&rdquo; she remarked. &ldquo;Yes, I will believe
+      that. But of the truth how much, I wonder?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By and bye,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;you will judge me differently. For hors d&rsquo;oeuvres
+      what do you say to oeufs de pluvier? Then&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Pardon me,&rdquo; she interrupted, &ldquo;I am not interested in your dinner!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In our dinner,&rdquo; he ventured gently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am not dining with you,&rdquo; she declared firmly. &ldquo;If you insist upon
+      remaining here I shall have something served in my room. You know quite
+      well that we are certain to be recognised. One would imagine that this was
+      a deliberate attempt on your part to compromise me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lucille,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;do not be foolish! Why do you persist in treating me
+      as though I were your persecutor?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because you are,&rdquo; she said coolly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is ridiculous,&rdquo; he declared. &ldquo;You are in the most serious danger, and
+      I have come only to save you. I can do it, and I will. But listen&mdash;not
+      unless you change your demeanour towards me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She laughed scornfully. She had risen to her feet now, and he was perforce
+      compelled to follow her example.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is that a challenge?&rdquo; she asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You may take it as such if you will,&rdquo; he answered, with a note of
+      sullenness in his tone. &ldquo;You know very well that I have but to lift my
+      finger and the gendarmes will be here. Yes, we will call it a challenge.
+      All my life I have wanted you. Now I think that my time has come. Even
+      Souspennier has deserted you. You are alone, and let me tell you that
+      danger is closer at your heels than you know of. I can save you, and I
+      will. But I have a price, and it must be paid.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If I refuse?&rdquo; she asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I send for the chief of the police.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She looked him up and down, a measured, merciless survey. He was a tall,
+      big man, but he seemed to shrink into insignificance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are a coward and a bully,&rdquo; she said slowly. &ldquo;You know quite well that
+      I am innocent of any knowledge even concerning Duson&rsquo;s death. But I would
+      sooner meet my fate, whatever it might be, than suffer even the touch of
+      your fingers upon my hand. Your presence is hateful to me. Send for your
+      chief of the police. String your lies together as you will. I am
+      satisfied.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She left him and swept from the room, a spot of colour burning in her
+      cheeks, her eyes lit with fire. The pride of her race had asserted itself.
+      She felt no longer any fear. She only desired to sever herself at once and
+      completely from all association with this man. In the hall she sent for
+      her maid.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Fetch my cloak and jewel case, Celeste,&rdquo; she ordered. &ldquo;I am going across
+      to the Bristol. You can return for the other luggage.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, madam&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do as I say at once,&rdquo; Lucille ordered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The girl hesitated and then obeyed. Lucille found herself suddenly
+      addressed in a quiet tone by a man who had been sitting in an easy-chair,
+      half hidden by a palm tree.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will you favour me, madam, with a moment&rsquo;s conversation?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lucille turned round. She recognised at once the man with whom she had
+      conversed upon the steamer. In the quietest form of evening dress, there
+      was something noticeable in the man&rsquo;s very insignificance. He seemed a
+      little out of his element. Lucille had a sudden inspiration, The man was a
+      detective.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you wish to say?&rdquo; she asked, half doubtfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I overheard,&rdquo; he remarked, &ldquo;your order to your maid. She had something to
+      say to you, but you gave her no opportunity.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you?&rdquo; she asked, &ldquo;what do you wish to say?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I wish to advise you,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;not to leave the hotel.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She looked at him doubtfully.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You cannot understand,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;why I wish to leave it. I have no
+      alternative.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nevertheless,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I hope that you will change your mind.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you a detective?&rdquo; she asked abruptly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madam is correct!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The flush of colour faded from her cheeks.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I presume, then,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;that I am under your surveillance?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In a sense,&rdquo; he admitted, &ldquo;it is true.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;On the steamer,&rdquo; she remarked, &ldquo;you spoke as though your interest in me
+      was not inimical.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nor is it,&rdquo; he answered promptly. &ldquo;You are in a difficult position, but
+      you may find things not so bad as you imagine. At present my advice to you
+      is this: Go upstairs to your room and stay there.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The little man had a compelling manner. Lucille made her way towards the
+      elevator.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As a matter of fact,&rdquo; she murmured bitterly, &ldquo;I am not, I suppose,
+      permitted to leave the hotel?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Madam puts the matter bluntly,&rdquo; he answered; &ldquo;but certainly if you should
+      insist upon leaving, it would be my duty to follow you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She turned away from him and entered the elevator. The door of her room
+      was slightly ajar, and she saw that a waiter was busy at a small round
+      table. She looked at him in surprise. He was arranging places for two.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who gave you your orders?&rdquo; she asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But it was monsieur,&rdquo; the man answered, with a low bow. &ldquo;Dinner for two.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur?&rdquo; she repeated. &ldquo;What monsieur?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am the culprit,&rdquo; a familiar voice answered from the depths of an
+      easy-chair, whose back was to her. &ldquo;I was very hungry, and it occurred to
+      me that under the circumstances you would probably not have dined either.
+      I hope that you will like what I have ordered. The plovers&rsquo; eggs look
+      delicious.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She gave a little cry of joy. It was Mr. Sabin.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0042" id="link2HCH0042">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XLII
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The Prince dined carefully, but with less than his usual appetite.
+      Afterwards he lit a cigarette and strolled for a moment into the lounge.
+      Celeste, who was waiting for him, glided at once to his side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur!&rdquo; she whispered. &ldquo;I have been here for one hour.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur le Duc has arrived.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince turned sharply round.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur le Duc de Souspennier. He calls himself no longer Mr. Sabin.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A dull flush of angry colour rose almost to his temples.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why did you not tell me before?&rdquo; he exclaimed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur was in the restaurant,&rdquo; she answered. &ldquo;It was impossible for me
+      to do anything but wait.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where is he?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Alas! he is with madam,&rdquo; the girl answered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince was very profane. He started at once for the elevator. In a
+      moment or two he presented himself at Lucille&rsquo;s sitting-room. They were
+      still lingering over their dinner. Mr. Sabin welcomed him with grave
+      courtesy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Prince is in time to take his liqueur with us,&rdquo; he remarked, rising.
+      &ldquo;Will you take fin champagne, Prince, or Chartreuse? I recommend the fin
+      champagne.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince bowed his thanks. He was white to the lips with the effort for
+      self-mastery.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I congratulate you, Mr. Sabin,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;upon your opportune arrival.
+      You will be able to help Lucille through the annoyance to which I deeply
+      regret that she should be subjected.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin gently raised his eyebrows.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Annoyance!&rdquo; he repeated. &ldquo;I fear that I do not quite understand.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Surely Lucille has told you,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;of the perilous position in which
+      she finds herself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My wife,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;has told me nothing. You alarm me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince shrugged his shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I deeply regret to tell you,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;that the law has proved too
+      powerful for me. I can no longer stand between her and what I fear may
+      prove a most unpleasant episode. Lucille will be arrested within the
+      hour.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Upon what charge?&rdquo; Mr. Sabin asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The murder of Duson.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin laughed very softly, very gently, but with obvious genuineness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are joking, Prince,&rdquo; he exclaimed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I regret to say,&rdquo; the Prince answered, &ldquo;that you will find it very far
+      from a joking matter.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin was suddenly stern.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Prince of Saxe Leinitzer,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;you are a coward and a bully.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince started forward with clenched fist. Mr. Sabin had no weapon,
+      but he did not flinch.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You can frighten women,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;with a bogie such as this, but you
+      have no longer a woman to deal with. You and I know that such a charge is
+      absurd&mdash;but you little know the danger to which you expose yourself
+      by trifling with this subject. Duson left a letter addressed to me in
+      which he announced his reasons for committing suicide.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Suicide?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes. He preferred suicide to murder, even at the bidding of the Prince of
+      Saxe Leinitzer. He wrote and explained these things to me&mdash;and the
+      letter is in safe hands. The arrest of Lucille, my dear Prince, would mean
+      the ruin of your amiable society.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This letter,&rdquo; the Prince said slowly, &ldquo;why was it not produced at the
+      inquest? Where is it now?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is deposited in a sealed packet with the Earl of Deringham,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin
+      answered. &ldquo;As to producing it at the inquest&mdash;I thought it more
+      discreet not to. I leave you to judge of my reasons. But I can assure you
+      that your fears for my wife&rsquo;s safety have been wholly misplaced. There is
+      not the slightest reason for her to hurry off to America. We may take a
+      little trip there presently, but not just yet.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince made a mistake. He lost his temper.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You!&rdquo; he cried, &ldquo;you can go to America when you like, and stay there.
+      Europe has had enough of you with your hare-brained schemes and foolish
+      failures. But Lucille does not leave this country. We have need of her. I
+      forbid her to leave. Do you hear? In the name of the Order I command her
+      to remain here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin was quite calm, but his face was full of terrible things.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Prince,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;if I by any chance numbered myself amongst your
+      friends I would warn you that you yourself are a traitor to your Order.
+      You prostitute a great cause when you stoop to use its machinery to assist
+      your own private vengeance. I ask you for your own sake to consider your
+      words. Lucille is mine&mdash;mine she will remain, even though you should
+      descend to something more despicable, more cowardly than ordinary treason,
+      to wrest her from me. You reproach me with the failures of my life. Great
+      they may have been, but if you attempt this you will find that I am not
+      yet an impotent person.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince was white with rage. The sight of Lucille standing by Mr.
+      Sabin&rsquo;s side, her hand lightly resting upon his, her dark eyes full of
+      inscrutable tenderness, maddened him. He was flouted and ignored. He was
+      carried away by a storm of passion. He tore a sheet of paper from his
+      pocket book, and unlocking a small gold case at the end of his watch
+      chain, shook from it a pencil with yellow crayon. Mr. Sabin leaned over
+      towards him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You sign it at your peril, Prince,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;It will mean worse things
+      than that for you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      For a second he hesitated. Lucille also leaned towards him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Prince,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;have I not kept my vows faithfully? Think! I came
+      from America at a moment&rsquo;s notice; I left my husband without even a word
+      of farewell; I entered upon a hateful task, and though to think of it now
+      makes me loathe myself&mdash;I succeeded. I have kept my vows, I have done
+      my duty. Be generous now, and let me go.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The sound of her voice maddened him. A passionate, arbitrary man, to whom
+      nothing in life had been denied, to be baulked in this great desire of his
+      latter days was intolerable. He made no answer to either of them. He wrote
+      a few lines with the yellow crayon and passed them silently across to
+      Lucille.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Her face blanched. She stretched out an unwilling hand. But Mr. Sabin
+      intervened. He took the paper from the Prince&rsquo;s hand, and calmly tore it
+      into fragments. There was a moment&rsquo;s breathless silence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Victor!&rdquo; Lucille cried. &ldquo;Oh, what have you done!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince&rsquo;s face lightened with an evil joy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We now, I think,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;understand one another. You will permit me to
+      wish you a very pleasant evening, and a speedy leave-taking.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Many thanks, my dear Prince,&rdquo; he said lightly. &ldquo;Make haste and complete
+      your charming little arrangements. Let me beg of you to avoid bungling
+      this time. Remember that there is not in the whole of Europe to-day a man
+      more dangerous to you than I.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince had departed. Mr. Sabin lit a cigarette and stood on the
+      hearthrug. His eyes were bright with the joy of fighting.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lucille,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I see that you have not touched your liqueur. Oblige
+      me by drinking it. You will find it excellent.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She came over to him and hung upon his arm. He threw his cigarette away
+      and kissed her upon the lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Victor,&rdquo; she murmured, &ldquo;I am afraid. You have been rash!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dearest,&rdquo; he answered, &ldquo;it is better to die fighting than to stand aside
+      and watch evil things. But after all, there is no fear. Come! Your cloak
+      and dressing case!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have plans?&rdquo; she exclaimed, springing up.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Plans?&rdquo; He laughed at her a little reproachfully. &ldquo;My dear Lucille! A
+      carriage awaits us outside, a special train with steam up at the Gard de
+      L&rsquo;ouest. This is precisely the contingency for which I have planned.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, you are wonderful, Victor,&rdquo; she murmured as she drew on her coat.
+      &ldquo;But what corner of the earth is there where we should be safe?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am going,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said, &ldquo;to try and make every corner of the earth
+      safe.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She was bewildered, but he only laughed and held open the door for her.
+      Mr. Sabin made no secret of his departure. He lingered for a moment in the
+      doorway to light a cigarette, he even stopped to whisper a few words to
+      the little man in plain dinner clothes who was lounging in the doorway.
+      But when they had once left the hotel they drove fast.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In less than half an hour Paris was behind them. They were traveling in a
+      royal saloon and at a fabuulous cost, for in France they are not fond of
+      special trains. But Mr. Sabin was very happy. At least he had escaped an
+      ignominious defeat. It was left to him to play the great card.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And now,&rdquo; Lucille said, coming out from her little bed-chamber which the
+      femme de chambre was busy preparing, &ldquo;suppose you tell me where we are
+      going.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin smiled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do not be alarmed,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;even though it will sound to you the least
+      likely place in the world. We are going to Berlin.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0043" id="link2HCH0043">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XLIII
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The great room was dimly enough lit, for the windows looking out upon the
+      street were high and heavily curtained, The man who sat at the desk was
+      almost in the shadow. Yet every now and then a shaft of sunlight fell
+      across his pale, worn face. A strange combination this of the worker, the
+      idealist, the man of affairs. From outside came the hum of a great city.
+      At times, too, there came to his ears as he sat here the roar of nations
+      at strife, the fierce underneath battle of the great countries of the
+      world struggling for supremacy. And here at this cabinet this man sat
+      often, and listened, strenuous, romantic, with the heart of a lion and the
+      lofty imagination of an eagle, he steered unswervingly on to her destiny a
+      great people. Others might rest, but never he.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He looked up from the letter spread out before him. Lucille was seated at
+      his command, a few yards away. Mr. Sabin stood respectfully before him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur le Duc,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;this letter, penned by my illustrious father
+      to you, is sufficient to secure my good offices. In what manner can I
+      serve you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your Majesty,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered, &ldquo;in the first place by receiving me
+      here. In the second by allowing me to lay before you certain grave and
+      very serious charges against the Order of the Yellow Crayon, of which your
+      Majesty is the titular head.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Order of the Yellow Crayon,&rdquo; the Emperor said thoughtfully, &ldquo;is
+      society composed of aristocrats pledged to resist the march of socialism.
+      It is true that I am the titular head of this organisation. What have you
+      to say about it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Only that your Majesty has been wholly deceived,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said
+      respectfully, &ldquo;concerning the methods and the working of this society. Its
+      inception and inauguration were above reproach. I myself at once became a
+      member. My wife, Countess of Radantz, and sole representative of that
+      ancient family, has been one all her life.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Emperor inclined his head towards Lucille.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I see no reason,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;when our capitals are riddled with secret
+      societies, all banded together against us, why the great families of
+      Europe should not in their turn come together and display a united front
+      against this common enemy. The Order of the Yellow Crayon has had more
+      than my support. It has had the sanction of my name. Tell me what you have
+      against it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have grave things to say concerning it,&rdquo; Mr. Sahin answered, &ldquo;and
+      concerning those who have wilfully deceived your Majesty. The influences
+      to be wielded by the society were mainly, I believe, wealth, education,
+      and influence. There was no mention made of murder, of an underground
+      alliance with the &lsquo;gamins&rsquo; of Paris, the dregs of humanity, prisoners, men
+      skilled in the art of secret death.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Emperor&rsquo;s tone was stern, almost harsh.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Duc de Souspennier, what are these things which you are saying?&rdquo; he
+      asked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your Majesty, I speak the truth,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered firmly. &ldquo;There are
+      in the Order of the Yellow Crayon three degrees of membership. The first,
+      which alone your Majesty knows of, simply corresponds with what in England
+      is known as the Primrose League. The second knows that beneath is another
+      organisation pledged to frustrate the advance of socialism, if necessary
+      by the use of their own weapons. The third, whose meetings and signs and
+      whose whole organisation is carried on secretly, is allied in every
+      capital in Europe with criminals and murderers. With its great wealth it
+      has influence in America as well as in every city of the world where there
+      are police to be suborned, or desperate men to be bought for tools. At the
+      direction of this third order Lavinski died suddenly in the Hungarian
+      House of Parliament, Herr Krettingen was involved in a duel, the result of
+      which was assured beforehand, and Reginald Brott, the great English
+      statesman, was ruined and disgraced. I myself have just narrowly escaped
+      death at his hands, and in my place my servant has been driven to death.
+      Of all these things, your Majesty, I have brought proofs.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Emperor&rsquo;s face was like a carven image, but his tone was cold and
+      terrible.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If these things have been sanctioned,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;by those who are
+      responsible for my having become the head of the Order; they shall feel my
+      vengeance.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your Majesty,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said earnestly, &ldquo;a chance disclosure, and all
+      might come to light. I myself could blazon the story through Europe. Those
+      who are responsible for the third degree of the Order of the Yellow
+      Crayon, and for your Majesty&rsquo;s ignorance concerning its existence, have
+      trifled with the destiny of the greatest sovereign of modern times.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Prince of Saxe Leinitzer,&rdquo; the Emperor said, &ldquo;is the acting head of
+      the Order.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Prince of Saxe Leinitzer,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin said firmly, &ldquo;is responsible for
+      the existence of the third degree. It is he who has connected the society
+      with a system of corrupt police or desperate criminals in every great
+      city. It is the Prince of Saxe Leinitzer, your Majesty, and his horde of
+      murderers from whom I have come to seek your Majesty&rsquo;s protection. I have
+      yet another charge to make against him. He has made, and is making still,
+      use of the society to further his own private intrigues. In the name of
+      the Order he brought my wife from America. She faithfully carried out the
+      instructions of the Council. She brought about the ruin of Reginald Brott.
+      By the rules of the society she was free then to return to her home. The
+      Prince, who had been her suitor, declined to let her go. My life was
+      attempted. The story of the Prince&rsquo;s treason is here, with the necessary
+      proofs. I know that orders have been given to the hired murderers of the
+      society for my assassination. My life even here is probably an uncertain
+      thing. But I have told your Majesty the truth, and the papers which I have
+      brought with me contain proof of my words.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Emperor struck a bell and gave a few orders to the young officer who
+      immediately answered it. Then he turned again to Mr. Sabin.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have summoned Saxe Leinitzer to Berlin,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;These matters shall
+      be gone into most thoroughly. In the meantime what can I do for you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We will await the coming of the Prince,&rdquo; Mr. Sabin answered grimly.
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey passed from her bath-room into a luxurious little
+      dressing-room. Her letters and coffee were on a small table near the fire,
+      an easy-chair was drawn up to the hearthrug. She fastened the girdle of
+      her dressing-gown, and dismissed her maid.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will ring for you in half an hour, Annette,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;See that I am
+      not disturbed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      On her way to the fireplace she paused for a moment in front of a tall
+      looking-glass, and looked steadily at her own reflection.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I suppose,&rdquo; she murmured to herself, &ldquo;that I am looking at my best now. I
+      slept well last night, and a bath gives one colour, and white is so
+      becoming. Still, I don&rsquo;t know why I failed. She may be a little better
+      looking, but my figure is as good. I can talk better, I have learnt how to
+      keep a man from feeling dull, and there is my reputation. Because I played
+      at war correspondence, wore a man&rsquo;s clothes, and didn&rsquo;t shriek when I was
+      under fire, people have chosen to make a heroine of me. That should have
+      counted for something with him&mdash;and it didn&rsquo;t. I could have taken my
+      choice of any man in London&mdash;and I wanted him. And I have failed!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She threw herself back in her easy-chair and laughed softly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Failed! What an ugly word! He is old, and he limps, and I&mdash;well, I
+      was never a very bashful person. He was beautifully polite, but he
+      wouldn&rsquo;t have anything to say to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She began to tear open her letters savagely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, it is over. If ever anybody speaks to me about it I think that I
+      shall kill them. That fool Saxe Leinitzer will stroke his beastly
+      moustache, and smile at me out of the corners of his eyes. The Dorset
+      woman, too&mdash;bah, I shall go away. What is it, Annette?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;His Highness the Prince of Saxe Leinitzer has called, milady.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Called! Does he regard this as a call?&rdquo; she exclaimed, glancing towards
+      the clock. &ldquo;Tell him, Annette, that your mistress does not receive at such
+      an hour. Be quick, child. Of course I know that he gave you a sovereign to
+      persuade me that it was important, but I won&rsquo;t see him, so be off.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But yes, milady,&rdquo; Annette answered, and disappeared.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey sipped her coffee.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think,&rdquo; she said reflectively, &ldquo;that it must be Melton.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Annette reappeared.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Milady,&rdquo; she exclaimed, &ldquo;His Highness insisted upon my bringing you this
+      card. He was so strange in his manner, milady, that I thought it best to
+      obey.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey stretched out her hand. A few words were scribbled on the back
+      of his visiting card in yellow crayon. She glanced at it, tore the card
+      up, and threw the pieces into the fire.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My shoes and stockings, Annette,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;and just a morning wrap&mdash;anything
+      will do.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince was walking restlessly up and down the room, when Lady Carey
+      entered. He welcomed her with a little cry of relief.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Heavens!&rdquo; he exclaimed. &ldquo;I thought that you were never coming.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was in no hurry,&rdquo; she answered calmly. &ldquo;I could guess your news, so I
+      had not even the spur of curiosity.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He stopped short.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have heard nothing! It is not possible?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She shrugged her shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, but I know you, and I know him. I am quite prepared to hear that you
+      are outwitted. Indeed, to judge from your appearance there can be no doubt
+      about it. Remember I warned you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince was pale with fury.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No one could foresee this,&rdquo; he exclaimed. &ldquo;He has walked into the lion&rsquo;s
+      den.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then,&rdquo; Lady Carey said, &ldquo;I am quite prepared to hear that he tamed the
+      lion.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If there was one person living whom I could have sworn that this man
+      dared not visit, it was our Emperor,&rdquo; the Prince said. &ldquo;It is only a few
+      years since, through this man&rsquo;s intrigues, Germany was shamed before the
+      world.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And yet,&rdquo; Lady Carey said sweetly, &ldquo;the Emperor has received him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have private intelligence from Berlin,&rdquo; Saxe Leinitzer answered. &ldquo;Mr.
+      Sabin was in possession of a letter written to him by the Emperor
+      Frederick, thanking him for some service or other; and the letter was a
+      talisman.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How like him,&rdquo; Lady Carey murmured, &ldquo;to have the letter.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What a pity,&rdquo; the Prince sneered, &ldquo;that such devotion should remain
+      unrewarded.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey sighed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He has broken my heart,&rdquo; she replied.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Prince threw out his hands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You and I,&rdquo; he cried, &ldquo;why do we behave like children! Let us start
+      afresh. Listen! The Emperor has summoned me to Berlin.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dear me,&rdquo; Lady Carey murmured. &ldquo;I am afraid you will have a most
+      unpleasant visit.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I dare not go,&rdquo; the Prince said slowly. &ldquo;It was I who induced the Emperor
+      to become the titular head of this cursed Order. Of course he knew nothing
+      about the second or third degree members and our methods. Without doubt he
+      is fully informed now. I dare not face him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What shall you do?&rdquo; Lady Carey asked curiously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am off to South America,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;It is a great undeveloped country,
+      and there is room for us to move there. Muriel, you know what I want of
+      you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My good man,&rdquo; she answered, &ldquo;I haven&rsquo;t the faintest idea.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will come with me,&rdquo; he begged. &ldquo;You will not send me into exile so
+      lonely, a wanderer! Together there may be a great future before us. You
+      have ambition, you love intrigue, excitement, danger. None of these can
+      you find here. You shall come with me. You shall not say no. Have I not
+      been your devoted slave? Have&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She stopped him. Her lips were parted in a smile of good-natured scorn.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t be absurd, Saxe Leinitzer. It is true that I love intrigue,
+      excitement and danger. That is what made me join your Order, and really I
+      have had quite a little excitement out of it, for which I suppose I ought
+      to thank you. But as for the rest, why, you are talking rubbish. I would
+      go to South America to-morrow with the right man, but with you, why, it
+      won&rsquo;t bear talking about. It makes me angry to think that you should
+      believe me capable of such shocking taste as to dream of going away with
+      you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He flung himself from the room. Lady Carey went back to her coffee and
+      letters. She sent for Annette.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Annette,&rdquo; she directed, &ldquo;we shall go to Melton to-morrow. Wire Haggis to
+      have the Lodge in order, and carriages to meet the midday train. I daresay
+      I shall take a few people down with me. Let George go around to
+      Tattershalls at once and make an appointment for me there at three o&rsquo;clock
+      this afternoon. Look out my habits and boots, too, Annette.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Lady Carey leaned back in her chair for a moment with half-closed eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think,&rdquo; she murmured, &ldquo;that some of us in our youth must have drunk
+      from some poisoned cup, something which turned our blood into quicksilver.
+      I must live, or I must die. I must have excitement every hour, every
+      second, or break down. There are others too&mdash;many others. No wonder
+      that that idiot of a man in Harley Street talked to me gravely about my
+      heart. No excitement. A quiet life! Bah! Such wishy-washy coffee and only
+      one cigarette.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She lit it and stood up on the hearthrug. Her eyes were half closed, every
+      vestige of colour had left her cheeks, her hand was pressed hard to her
+      side. For a few minutes she seemed to struggle for breath. Then with a
+      little lurch as though still giddy, she stooped, and picking up her fallen
+      cigarette, thrust it defiantly between her teeth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not this way,&rdquo; she muttered. &ldquo;From a horse&rsquo;s back if I can with the air
+      rushing by, and the hot joy of it in one&rsquo;s heart... Only I hope it won&rsquo;t
+      hurt the poor old gee... Come in, Annette. What a time you&rsquo;ve been,
+      child.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      ******
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Emperor sent for Mr. Sabin. He declined to recognise his incognito.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Monsieur le Duc,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;if proof of your story were needed it is
+      here. The Prince of Saxe Leinitzer has ignored my summons. He has fled to
+      South America.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin bowed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A most interesting country,&rdquo; he murmured, &ldquo;for the Prince.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You yourself are free to go when and where you will. You need no longer
+      have any fears. The Order does not exist. I have crushed it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin bowed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your Majesty,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;has shown exemplary wisdom.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;From its inception,&rdquo; the Emperor said, &ldquo;I believe that the idea was a
+      mistaken one. I must confess that its originality pleased me; my calmer
+      reflections, however, show me that I was wrong. It is not for the nobles
+      of the earth to copy the methods of socialists and anarchists. These men
+      are a pest upon humanity, but they may have their good uses. They may help
+      us to govern alertly, vigorously, always with our eyes and ears strained
+      to catch the signs of the changing times. Monsieur le Duc, should you
+      decide to take up your residence in this country I shall at all times be
+      glad to receive you. But your future is entirely your own.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Sabin accepted his dismissal from audience, and went back to Lucille.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The Prince,&rdquo; he told her, &ldquo;has gone&mdash;to South America. The Order
+      does not exist any longer. Will you dine in Vienna, or in Frankfort?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She held out her arms.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You wonderful man!&rdquo; she cried.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+
+
+
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diff --git a/old/ycryn10.txt b/old/ycryn10.txt
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+Project Gutenberg Etext The Yellow Crayon, E. Phillips Oppenheim
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+
+
+
+This Etext prepared by an anonymous Project Gutenberg volunteer.
+
+
+
+
+
+The Yellow Crayon by E. Phillips Oppenheim
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+It was late summer-time, and the perfume of flowers stole into the
+darkened room through the half-opened window.   The sunlight forced
+its way through a chink in the blind, and stretched across the floor
+in strange zigzag fashion.  From without came the pleasant murmur
+of bees and many lazier insects floating over the gorgeous flower
+beds, resting for a while on the clematis which had made the piazza
+a blaze of purple splendour.  And inside, in a high-backed chair,
+there sat a man, his arms folded, his eyes fixed steadily upon
+vacancy.  As he sat then, so had he sat for a whole day and a whole
+night.  The faint sweet chorus of glad living things, which alone
+broke the deep silence of the house, seemed neither to disturb nor
+interest him.  He sat there like a man turned to stone, his
+forehead riven by one deep line, his straight firm mouth set close
+and hard.  His servant, the only living being who had approached
+him, had set food by his side, which now and then he had
+mechanically taken.  Changeless as a sphinx, he had sat there in
+darkness and in light, whilst sunlight had changed to moonlight,
+and the songs of the birds had given place to the low murmuring
+of frogs from a lake below the lawns.
+
+At last it seemed that his unnatural fit had passed away.  He
+stretched out his hand and struck a silver gong which had been left
+within his reach.  Almost immediately a man, pale-faced, with full
+dark eyes and olive complexion, dressed in the sombre garb of an
+indoor servant, stood at his elbow.
+
+"Duson."
+
+"Your Grace!"
+
+"Bring wine--Burgundy."
+
+It was before him, served with almost incredible despatch--a small
+cobwebbed bottle and a glass of quaint shape, on which were
+beautifully emblazoned a coronet and fleur-de-lis.  He drank slowly
+and deliberately.  When he set the glass down it was empty.
+
+"Duson!"
+
+"Your Grace!"
+
+"You will pack my things and your own.  We shall leave for New York
+this evening.  Telegraph to the Holland House for rooms."
+
+"For how many days, your Grace?"
+
+"We shall not return here.  Pay off all the servants save two of
+the most trustworthy, who will remain as caretakers."
+
+The man's face was as immovable as his master's.
+
+"And Madame?"
+
+"Madame will not be returning.  She will have no further use for
+her maid.  See, however, that her clothes and all her personal
+belongings remain absolutely undisturbed."
+
+"Has your Grace any further orders?"
+
+"Take pencil and paper.  Send this cablegram. Are you ready?"
+
+The man's head moved in respectful assent.
+
+     "To Felix,
+       "No 27, Rue de St.  Pierre,
+         "Avenue de L'Opera, Paris.
+"Meet me at Sherry's Restaurant, New York, one month to-day, eleven
+p.m.--V.  S."
+
+"It shall be sent immediately, your Grace.  The train for New York
+leaves at seven-ten.  A carriage will be here in one hour and five
+minutes."
+
+The man moved towards the door.  His master looked up.
+
+"Duson!"
+
+"Your Grace!"
+
+"The Duc de Souspennier remains here--or at the bottom of the
+lake--what matters!   It is Mr. Sabin who travels to New York,
+and for whom you engage rooms at the Holland House.  Mr. Sabin is
+a cosmopolitan of English proclivities."
+
+"Very good, sir!"
+
+"Lock this door.  Bring my coat and hat five minutes before the
+carriage starts.  Let the servants be well paid.  Let none of them
+attempt to see me."
+
+The man bowed and disappeared.  Left to himself, Mr. Sabin rose from
+his chair, and pushing open the windows, stood upon the verandah.
+He leaned heavily upon his stick with both hands, holding it before
+him.  Slowly his eyes traveled over the landscape.
+
+It was a very beautiful home which he was leaving.  Before him
+stretched the gardens--Italian in design, brilliant with flowers,
+with here and there a dark cedar-tree drooping low upon the lawn.
+A yew hedge bordered the rose-garden, a fountain was playing in
+the middle of a lake.  A wooden fence encircled the grounds, and
+beyond was a smooth rolling park, with little belts of pine
+plantations and a few larger trees here and there.  In the far
+distance the red flag was waving on one of the putting greens.
+Archie Green was strolling up the hillside,--his pipe in his mouth,
+and his driver under his arm.  Mr. Sabin watched, and the lines in
+his face grew deeper and deeper.
+
+"I am an old man," he said softly, "but I will live to see them
+suffer who have done this evil thing."
+
+He turned slowly back into the room, and limping rather more than
+was usual with him, he pushed aside a portiere and passed into a
+charmingly furnished country drawing-room.  Only the flowers hung
+dead in their vases; everything else was fresh and sweet and dainty.
+Slowly he threaded his way amongst the elegant Louis Quinze
+furniture, examining as though for the first time the beautiful old
+tapestry, the Sevres china, the Chippendale table, which was
+priceless, the exquisite portraits painted by Greuze, and the
+mysterious green twilights and grey dawns of Corot.  Everywhere
+treasures of art, yet everywhere the restraining hand of the artist.
+The faint smell of dead rose leaves hung about the room.  Already
+one seemed conscious of a certain emptiness as though the genius of
+the place had gone.  Mr. Sabin leaned heavily upon his stick, and
+his head drooped lower and lower.    A soft, respectful voice came
+to him from the other room.
+
+"In five minutes, sir, the carriage will be at the door.  I have
+your coat and hat here."
+
+Mr. Sabin looked up.
+
+"I am quite ready, Duson!" he said.
+
+      *           *           *           *           *
+
+The servants in the hall stood respectfully aside to let him pass.
+On the way to the depot he saw nothing of those who saluted him.
+In the car he sat with folded arms in the most retired seat, looking
+steadfastly out of the window at the dying day.  There were
+mountains away westwards, touched with golden light; sometimes for
+long minutes together the train was rushing through forests whose
+darkness was like that of a tunnel.  Mr. Sabin seemed indifferent
+to these changes.  The coming of night did not disturb him.  His
+brain was at work, and the things which he saw were hidden from
+other men.
+
+Duson, with a murmur of apology, broke in upon his meditations.
+
+"You will pardon me, sir, but the second dinner is now being served.
+The restaurant car will be detached at the next stop."
+
+"What of it?" Mr. Sabin asked calmly.
+
+"I have taken the liberty of ordering dinner for you, sir.  It is
+thirty hours since you ate anything save biscuits."
+
+Mr. Sabin rose to his feet.
+
+"You are quite right, Duson," he said.  "I will dine."
+
+In half-an-hour he was back again.  Duson placed before him silently
+a box of cigarettes and matches.  Mr. Sabin smoked.
+
+Soon the lights of the great city flared in the sky, the train
+stopped more frequently, the express men and newspaper boys came
+into evidence.  Mr. Sabin awoke from his long spell of thought.  He
+bought a newspaper, and glanced through the list of steamers which
+had sailed during the week.  When the train glided into the depot
+he was on his feet and ready to leave it.
+
+"You will reserve our rooms, Duson, for one month," he said on the
+way to the hotel.  "We shall probably leave for Europe a month
+to-morrow."
+
+"Very good, sir."
+
+"You were Mrs. Peterson's servant, Duson, before you were mine!"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"You have been with her, I believe, for many years.  You are
+doubtless much attached to her!"
+
+"Indeed I am, sir!"
+
+"You may have surmised, Duson, that she has left me.  I desire to
+ensure your absolute fidelity, so I take you into my confidence to
+this extent.  Your mistress is in the hands of those who have some
+power over her.  Her absence is involuntary so far as she is
+concerned.  It has been a great blow to me.  I am prepared to
+run all risks to discover her whereabouts.  It is late in my life
+for adventures, but it is very certain that adventures and dangers
+are before us.  In accompanying me you will associate yourself with
+many risks.  Therefore--"
+
+Duson held up his hand.
+
+"I beg, sir," he exclaimed, "that you will not suggest for a moment
+my leaving your service on that account.  I beg most humbly, sir,
+that you will not do me that injustice."
+
+Mr. Sabin paused.  His eyes, like lightning, read the other's face.
+
+"It is settled then, Duson," he said.  "Kindly pay this cabman, and
+follow me as quickly as possible."
+
+Mr. Sabin passed across the marble hall, leaning heavily upon his
+stick.  Yet for all his slow movements there was a new alertness
+in his eyes and bearing.  He was once more taking keen note of
+everybody and everything about him.  Only a few days ago she had
+been here.
+
+He claimed his rooms at the office, and handed the keys to Duson,
+who by this time had rejoined him.  At the moment of turning away
+he addressed an inquiry to the clerk behind the counter.
+
+"Can you tell me if the Duchess of Souspennier is staying here?"
+he inquired.
+
+The young man glanced up.
+
+"Been here, I guess.  Left on Tuesday."
+
+Mr. Sabin turned away.  He did not speak again until Duson and he
+were alone in the sitting-room.  Then he drew out a five dollar bill.
+
+"Duson," he said, "take this to the head luggage porter.  Tell him
+to bring his departure book up here at once, and there is another
+waiting for him.  You understand?"
+
+"Certainly, sir!"
+
+Mr. Sabin turned to enter his bed-chamber.  His attention was
+attracted, however, by a letter lying flat upon the table.  He took
+it up.  It was addressed to Mr. Sabin.
+
+"This is very clever," he mused, hesitating for a moment before
+opening it.  "I wired for rooms only a few hours ago--and I find
+a letter.  It is the commencement."
+
+He tore open the envelope, and drew out a single half-sheet of
+note-paper.  Across it was scrawled a single sentence only.
+
+"Go back to Lenox."
+
+There was no signature, nor any date.  The only noticeable thing
+about this brief communication was that it was written in yellow
+pencil of a peculiar shade.  Mr. Sabin's eyes glittered as he read.
+
+"The yellow crayon!" he muttered.
+
+Duson knocked softly at the door.  Mr. Sabin thrust the letter and
+envelope into his breast coat pocket.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+"This is the luggage porter, sir," Duson announced.  "He is prepared
+to answer any questions."
+
+The man took out his book.  Mr. Sabin, who was sitting in an
+easy-chair, turned sideways towards him.
+
+"The Duchess of Souspennier was staying here last week," he said.
+"She left, I believe, on Thursday or Friday.  Can you tell me
+whether her baggage went through your hands?"
+
+The man set down his hat upon a vacant chair, and turned over the
+leaves of his book.
+
+"Guess I can fix that for you," he remarked, running his forefinger
+down one of the pages.  "Here we are.  The Duchess left on Friday,
+and we checked her baggage through to Lenox by the New York, New
+Haven & Hartford."
+
+Mr. Sabin nodded.
+
+"Thank you," he said.  "She would probably take a carriage to the
+station.  It will be worth another ten dollars to you if you can
+find me the man who drove her."
+
+"Well, we ought to manage that for you," the man remarked
+encouragingly.  "It was one of Steve Hassell's carriages, I guess,
+unless the lady took a hansom."
+
+"Very good," Mr. Sabin said.  "See if you can find him.  Keep my
+inquiries entirely to yourself.  It will pay you."
+
+"That's all right," the man remarked.  "Don't you go to bed for
+half-an-hour, and I guess you'll hear from me again."
+
+Duson busied himself in the bed-chamber, Mr. Sabin sat motionless
+in his easy chair.  Soon there came a tap at the door.  The porter
+reappeared ushering in a smart-looking young man, who carried a
+shiny coachman's hat in his hand.
+
+"Struck it right fust time," the porter remarked cheerfully.  "This
+is the man, sir."
+
+Mr. Sabin turned his head.
+
+"You drove a lady from here to the New York, New Haven & Hartford
+Depot last Friday?" he asked.
+
+"Well, not exactly, sir," the man answered.  "The Duchess took my
+cab, and the first address she gave was the New York, New Haven
+& Hartford Depot, but before we'd driven a hundred yards she pulled
+the check-string and ordered me to go to the Waldorf.  She paid me
+there, and went into the hotel."
+
+"You have not seen her since?"
+
+"No, sir!"
+
+"You knew her by sight, you say.  Was there anything special about
+her appearance?"
+
+The man hesitated.
+
+"She'd a pretty thick veil on, sir, but she raised it to pay me,
+and I should say she'd been crying.  She was much paler, too, than
+last time I drove her."
+
+"When was that?" Mr. Sabin asked.
+
+"In the spring, sir,--with you, begging your pardon.  You were at
+the Netherlands, and I drove you out several times."
+
+"You seem," Mr. Sabin said, "to be a person with some powers of
+observation.  It would pay you very well indeed if you would
+ascertain from any of your mates at the Waldorf when and with whom
+the lady in question left that hotel."
+
+"I'll have a try, sir," the man answered.  "The Duchess was better
+known here, but some of them may have recognised her."
+
+"She had no luggage, I presume?" Mr. Sabin asked.
+
+"Her dressing-case and jewel-case only, sir."
+
+"So you see," Mr. Sabin continued, "it is probable that she did not
+remain at the Waldorf for the night.  Base your inquiries on that
+supposition."
+
+"Very good, sir."
+
+"From your manners and speech," Mr. Sabin said, raising his head,
+"I should take you to be an Englishman."
+
+"Quite correct, sir," the man answered.  "I drove a hansom in
+London for eight years."
+
+"You will understand me then," Mr. Sabin continued, "when I say
+that I have no great confidence in the police of this country.  I
+do not wish to be blackmailed or bullied.  I would ask you,
+therefore, to make your inquiries with discretion."
+
+"I'll be careful, sir," the man answered.
+
+Mr. Sabin handed to each of them a roll of notes.  The cabdriver
+lingered upon the threshold.  Mr. Sabin looked up.
+
+"Well?"
+
+"Could I speak a word to you--in private, sir?"
+
+Mr. Sabin motioned Duson to leave the room.  The baggage porter
+had already departed.
+
+"When I cleaned out my cab at night, sir, I found this.  I didn't
+reckon it was of any consequence at first, but from the questions
+you have been asking it may be useful to you."
+
+Mr. Sabin took the half-sheet of note-paper in silence.  It was the
+ordinary stationery of the Waldorf Astoria Hotel, and the following
+words were written upon it in a faint delicate handwriting, but in
+yellow pencil:--
+
+                                                  "Sept.  10th.
+  "To LUCILLE, Duchesse de SOUSPENNIER.-
+
+  "You will be at the Waldorf Astoria Hotel in the main corridor
+   at four o'clock this afternoon."
+
+The thin paper shook in Mr. Sabin's fingers.  There was no signature,
+but he fancied that the handwriting was not wholly unfamiliar to him.
+He looked slowly up towards the cabman.
+
+"I am much obliged to you," he said.  "This is of interest to me."
+
+He stretched out his hand to the little wad of notes which Duson had
+left upon the table, but the cabdriver backed away.
+
+"Beg pardon, sir," he said.  "You've given me plenty.  The letter's
+of no value to me.  I came very near tearing it up, but for the
+peculiar colour pencil it's written with.  Kinder took my fancy,
+sir."
+
+"The letter is of value," Mr. Sabin said.  "It tells me much more
+than I hoped to discover.  It is our good fortune."
+
+The man accepted the little roll of bills and departed.  Mr. Sabin
+touched the bell.
+
+"Duson, what time is it?"
+
+"Nearly midnight, sir!"
+
+"I will go to bed!"
+
+"Very good, sir!"
+
+"Mix me a sleeping draught, Duson.  I need rest.  See that I am not
+disturbed until ten o'clock to-morrow morning.
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+At precisely ten o'clock on the following morning Duson brought
+chocolate, which he had prepared himself, and some dry toast to his
+master's bedside.  Upon the tray was a single letter.  Mr. Sabin
+sat up in bed and tore open the envelope.  The following words were
+written upon a sheet of the Holland House notepaper in the same
+peculiar coloured crayon.
+
+"The first warning addressed to you yesterday was a friendly one.
+Profit by it.  Go back to Lenox.  You are only exposing yourself to
+danger and the person you seek to discomfort.  Wait there, and some
+one shall come to you shortly who will explain what has happened,
+and the necessity for it."
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled, a slow contemplative smile.  He sipped his
+chocolate and lit a cigarette.
+
+"Our friends, then," he said softly, "do not care about pursuit and
+inquiries.  It is ridiculous to suppose that their warning is given
+out of any consideration to me.  Duson!"
+
+"Yes, sir!"
+
+"My bath.  I shall rise now."
+
+Mr. Sabin made his toilet with something of the same deliberation
+which characterised all his movements.  Then he descended into the
+hall, bought a newspaper, and from a convenient easy-chair kept a
+close observation upon every one who passed to and fro for about
+an hour.  Later on he ordered a carriage, and made several calls
+down town.
+
+At a few minutes past twelve he entered the bar of the Fifth Avenue
+Hotel, and ordering a drink sat down at one of the small tables.
+The room was full, but Mr. Sabin's attention was directed solely to
+one group of men who stood a short distance away before the counter
+drinking champagne.  The central person of the group was a big man,
+with an unusually large neck, a fat pale face, a brown moustache
+tinged with grey, and a voice and laugh like a fog-horn.  It was he
+apparently who was paying for the champagne, and he was clearly on
+intimate terms with all the party.  Mr. Sabin watched for his
+opportunity, and then rising from his seat touched him on the
+shoulder.
+
+"Mr. Skinner, I believe?" he said quietly.
+
+The big man looked down upon Mr. Sabin with the sullen offensiveness
+of the professional bully.
+
+"You've hit it first time," he admitted.  "Who are you, anyway?"
+
+Mr. Sabin produced a card.
+
+"I called this morning," he said, "upon the gentleman whose name you
+will see there.  He directed me to you, and told me to come here."
+
+The man tore the card into small pieces.
+
+"So long, boys," he said, addressing his late companions.  "See you
+to-night."
+
+They accepted his departure in silence, and one and all favoured
+Mr. Sabin with a stare of blatant curiosity.
+
+"I should be glad to speak with you," Mr. Sabin said, "in a place
+where we are likely to be neither disturbed nor overheard."
+
+"You come right across to my office," was the prompt reply.  "I
+guess we can fix it up there."
+
+Mr. Sabin motioned to his coachman, and they crossed Broadway.  His
+companion led him into a tall building, talking noisily all the
+time about the pals whom he had just left.  An elevator transported
+them to the twelfth floor in little more than as many seconds, and
+Mr. Skinner ushered his visitor into a somewhat bare-looking office,
+smelling strongly of stale tobacco smoke.  Mr. Skinner at once lit
+a cigar, and seating himself before his desk, folded his arms and
+leaned over towards Mr. Sabin.
+
+"Smoke one?" he asked, pointing to the open box.
+
+Mr. Sabin declined.
+
+"Get right ahead then."
+
+"I am an Englishman," Mr. Sabin said slowly, "and consequently am
+not altogether at home with your ways over here.  I have always
+understood, however, that if you are in need of any special
+information such as we should in England apply to the police for,
+over here there is a quicker and more satisfactory method of
+procedure."
+
+"You've come a long way round," Mr. Skinner remarked, spitting
+upon the floor, "but you're dead right."
+
+"I am in need of some information," Mr. Sabin continued, "and
+accordingly I called this morning on Mr.--"
+
+Mr. Skinner held up his hand.
+
+"All right," he said.  "We don't mention names more than we can
+help.  Call him the boss."
+
+"He assured me that the information I was in need of was easily to
+be obtained, and gave me a card to you."
+
+"Go right on," Mr. Skinner said.  "What is it?"
+
+"On Friday last," Mr. Sabin said, "at four o'clock, the Duchess of
+Souspennier, whose picture I will presently show you, left the
+Holland House Hotel for the New York, New Haven & Hartford Depot,
+presumably for her home at Lenox, to which place her baggage had
+already been checked.  On the way she ordered the cabman to set her
+down at the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel, which he did at a few minutes
+past four.  The Duchess has not returned home or been directly
+heard from since.  I wish to ascertain her movements  since she
+arrived at the Waldorf."
+
+"Sounds dead easy," Mr. Skinner remarked reassuringly.  "Got the
+picture?"
+
+Mr. Sabin touched the spring of a small gold locket which he drew
+from an inside waistcoat pocket, and disclosed a beautifully painted
+miniature.  Mr. Skinner's thick lips were pursed into a whistle.
+He was on the point of making a remark when he chanced to glance
+into Mr. Sabin's face.  The remark remained unspoken.
+
+He drew a sheet of note-paper towards him and made a few notes upon
+it.
+
+"The Duchess many friends in New York?"
+
+"At present none.  The few people whom she knows here are at Newport
+or in Europe just now."
+
+"Any idea whom she went to the Waldorf to see?   More we know the
+better."
+
+Mr. Sabin handed him the letter which had been picked up in the cab.
+Mr. Skinner read it through, and spat once more upon the floor.
+
+"What the h---'s this funny coloured pencil mean?"
+
+"I do not know," Mr. Sabin answered.  "You will see that the two
+anonymous communications which I have received since arriving in
+New York yesterday are written in the same manner."
+
+Mr. Sabin handed him the other two letters, which Mr. Skinner
+carefully perused.
+
+"I guess you'd better tell me who you are," he suggested.
+
+"I am the husband of the Duchess of Souspennier," Mr. Sabin answered.
+
+"The Duchess send any word home at all?" Mr. Skinner asked.
+
+Mr. Sabin produced a worn telegraph form.  It was handed in at Fifth
+Avenue, New York, at six o'clock on Friday.  It contained the single
+word 'Good-bye.'
+
+"H'm," Mr. Skinner remarked.  "We'll find all you want to know by
+to-morrow sure."
+
+"What do you make of the two letters which I received?" Mr. Sabin
+asked.
+
+"Bunkum!"  Mr. Skinner replied confidently.
+
+Mr. Sabin nodded his head.
+
+"You have no secret societies over here, I suppose?" he said.
+
+Mr. Skinner laughed loudly and derisively.
+
+"I guess not," he answered.  "They keep that sort of rubbish on the
+other side of the pond."
+
+"Ah!"
+
+Mr. Sabin was thoughtful for a moment.  "You expect to find, then,"
+he remarked, "some other cause for my wife's disappearance?"
+
+"There don't seem much room for doubt concerning that, sir," Mr.
+Skinner said; "but I never speculate.  I will bring you the facts
+to-night between eight and eleven.  Now as to the business side of
+it."
+
+Mr. Sabin was for a moment puzzled.
+
+"What's the job worth to you?" Mr. Skinner asked.  "I am willing to
+pay," Mr. Sabin answered, "according to your demands."
+
+"It's a simple case," Mr. Skinner admitted, "but our man at the
+Waldorf is expensive.  If you get all your facts, I guess five
+hundred dollars will about see you through."
+
+"I will pay that," Mr. Sabin answered.
+
+"I will bring you the letters back to-night," Mr. Skinner said.
+"I guess I'll borrow that locket of yours, too."
+
+Mr. Sabin shook his head.
+
+"That," he said firmly, "I do not part with."  Mr. Skinner scratched
+his ear with his penholder.  "It's the only scrap of identifying
+matter we've got," he remarked.  "Of course it's a dead simple case,
+and we can probably manage without it.  But I guess it's as well to
+fix the thing right down."
+
+"If you will give me a piece of paper," Mr. Sabin said, "I will make
+you a sketch of the Duchess.  The larger the better.  I can give you
+an idea of the sort of clothes she would probably be wearing."
+
+Mr. Skinner furnished him with a double sheet of paper, and Mr.
+Sabin, with set face and unflinching figures, reproduced in a few
+simple strokes a wonderful likeness of the woman he loved.  He
+pushed it away from him when he had finished without remark.  Mr.
+Skinner was loud in its praises.
+
+"I guess you're an artist, sir, for sure," he remarked.  "This'll
+fix the thing.  Shall I come to your hotel?"
+
+"If you please," Mr. Sabin answered.  "I shall be there for the rest
+of the day."
+
+Mr. Skinner took up his hat.
+
+"Guess I'll take my dinner and get right to work," he remarked.
+"Say, you come along, Mr. Sabin.  I'll take you where they'll fix
+you such a beefsteak as you never tasted in your life."
+
+"I thank you very much," Mr. Sabin said, "but I must beg to be
+excused.  I am expecting some despatches at my hotel.  If you are
+successful this afternoon you will perhaps do me the honour of
+dining with me to-night.  I will wait until eight-thirty."
+
+The two men parted upon the pavement.  Mr. Skinner, with his small
+bowler hat on the back of his head, a fresh cigar in the corner of
+his mouth, and his thumbs in the armholes of his waistcoat, strolled
+along Broadway with something akin to a smile parting his lips, and
+showing his yellow teeth.
+
+"Darned old fool," he muttered.  "To marry a slap-up handsome woman
+like that, and then pretend not to know what it means when she bolts.
+Guess I'll spoil his supper to-night."
+
+Mr. Sabin, however, was recovering his spirits.  He, too, was
+leaning back in the corner of his carriage with a faint smile
+brightening his hard, stern face.  But, unlike Mr. Skinner, he did
+not talk to himself.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+R. Sabin, who was never, for its own sake, fond of solitude, had
+ordered dinner for two at eight-thirty in the general dining-room.
+At a few minutes previous to that hour Mr. Skinner presented himself.
+
+Mr. Skinner was not in the garb usually affected by men of the world
+who are invited to dine out.  The long day's exertion, too, had had
+its effect upon his linen.  His front, indeed, through a broad gap,
+confessed to a foundation of blue, and one of his cuffs showed a
+marked inclination to escape from his wrist over his knuckles.  His
+face was flushed, and he exhaled a strong odour of cigars and
+cocktails.  Nevertheless, Mr. Sabin was very glad to see him, and
+to receive the folded sheet of paper which he at once produced.
+
+"I have taken the liberty," Mr. Sabin remarked, on his part, "of
+adding a trifle to the amount we first spoke of, which I beg you
+will accept from me as a mark of my gratitude for your promptness."
+
+"Sure!" Mr. Skinner answered tersely, receiving the little roll of
+bills without hesitation, and retreating into a quiet corner, where
+he carefully counted and examined every one.  "That's all right!"
+he announced at the conclusion of his task.  "Come and have one
+with me now before you read your little billet-doux, eh?"
+
+"I shall not read your report until after dinner," Mr. Sabin said,
+"and I think if you are ready that we might as well go in.  At the
+head-waiter's suggestion I have ordered a cocktail with the oysters,
+and if we are much later he seemed to fear that it might affect the
+condition of the--I think it was terrapin, he said."
+
+Mr. Skinner stopped short.  His tone betrayed emotion.
+
+"Did you say terrapin, sir?"
+
+Mr. Sabin nodded.  Mr. Skinner at once took his arm.
+
+"Guess we'll go right in," he declared.  "I hate to have a good
+meal spoiled."
+
+They were an old-looking couple.  Mr. Sabin quietly but faultlessly
+attired in the usual evening dinner garb, Mr. Skinner ill-dressed,
+untidy, unwashed and frowsy.  But here at least Mr. Sabin's
+incognito had been unavailing, for he had stayed at the hotel several
+times--as he remembered with an odd little pang--with Lucille, and
+the head-waiter, with a low bow, ushered them to their table.  Mr.
+Skinner saw the preparations for their repast, the oysters, the
+cocktails in tall glasses, the magnum of champagne in ice, and
+chuckled.  To take supper with a duke was a novelty to him, but he
+was not shy.  He sat down and tucked his serviette into his
+waistcoat, raised his glass, and suddenly set it down again.
+
+"The boss!" he exclaimed in amazement.
+
+Mr. Sabin turned his head in the direction which his companion had
+indicated.  Coming hastily across the room towards them, already
+out of breath as though with much hurrying, was a thick-set, powerful
+man, with the brutal face and coarse lips of a prizefighter; a beard
+cropped so short as to seem the growth of a few days only covered
+his chin, and his moustache, treated in the same way, was not thick
+enough to conceal a cruel mouth.  He was carefully enough dressed,
+and a great diamond flashed from his tie.  There was a red mark
+round his forehead where his hat had been, and the perspiration was
+streaming from his forehead.  He strode without hesitation to the
+table where Mr. Sabin and his guest were sitting, and without even
+a glance at the former turned upon his myrmidon.
+
+"Where's that report?" he cried roughly.  "Where is it?"
+
+Mr. Skinner seemed to have shrunk into a smaller man.  He pointed
+across the table.
+
+"I've given it to him," he said.  "What's wrong, boss?"
+
+The newcomer raised his hand as though to strike Skinner.  He
+gnashed his teeth with the effort to control himself.
+
+"You damned blithering idiot," he said hoarsely, gripping the side
+of the table.  "Why wasn't it presented to me first?"
+
+"Guess it didn't seem worth while," Skinner answered.  "There's
+nothing in the darned thing."
+
+"You ignorant fool, hold your tongue," was the fierce reply.
+
+The newcomer sank into a chair and wiped the perspiration from
+his streaming forehead.  Mr. Sabin signaled to a waiter.
+
+"You seem upset, Mr. Horser," he remarked politely.  "Allow me to
+offer you a glass of wine."
+
+Mr. Horser did not immediately reply, but he accepted the glass
+which the waiter brought him, and after a moment's hesitation
+drained its contents.  Then he turned to Mr. Sabin.
+
+"You said nothing about those letters you had had when you came
+to see me this morning!"
+
+"It was you yourself," Mr. Sabin reminded him, "who begged me not
+to enter into particulars.  You sent me on to Mr. Skinner.  I told
+him everything."
+
+Mr. Horser leaned over the table.  His eyes were bloodshot, his
+tone was fierce and threatening.  Mr. Sabin was coldly courteous.
+The difference between the demeanour of the two men was remarkable.
+
+"You knew what those letters meant!  This is a plot!  Where is
+Skinner's report?"
+
+Mr. Sabin raised his eyebrows.  He signaled to the head-waiter.
+
+"Be so good as to continue the service of my dinner," he ordered.
+"The champagne is a trifle too chilled.  You can take it out of
+the cooler."
+
+The man bowed, with a curious side glance at Horser.
+
+"Certainly, your Grace!"
+
+Horser was almost speechless with anger.
+
+"Are you going to answer my questions?" he demanded thickly.
+
+"I have no particular objection to doing so," Mr. Sabin answered,
+"but until you can sit up and compose yourself like an ordinary
+individual, I decline to enter into any conversation with you at
+all."
+
+Again Mr. Horser raised his voice, and the glare in his eyes was
+like the glare of a wild beast.
+
+"Do you know who I am?" he asked.  "Do you know who you're talking
+to?"
+
+Mr. Sabin looked at him coolly, and fingered his wineglass.
+
+"Well," he said, "I've a shocking memory for names, but yours is
+--Mr. Horser, isn't it?  I heard it for the first time this morning,
+and my memory will generally carry me through four-and-twenty hours."
+
+There was a moment's silence.  Horser was no fool.  He accepted his
+defeat and dropped the bully.
+
+"You're a stranger in this city, Mr. Sabin, and I guess you aren't
+altogether acquainted with our ways yet," he said.  "But I want you
+to understand this.  The report which is in your pocket has got to
+be returned to me.  If I'd known what I was meddling with I wouldn't
+have touched your business for a hundred thousand dollars.  It's got
+to be returned to me, I say!" he repeated in a more threatening tone.
+
+Mr. Sabin helped himself to fish, and made a careful examination of
+the sauce.
+
+"After all," he said meditatively, "I am not sure that I was wise
+in insisting upon a sauce piquante.  I beg your pardon, Mr. Horser.
+Please do not think me inattentive, but I am very hungry.  So, I
+believe, is my friend, Mr. Skinner.  Will you not join us--or
+perhaps you have already dined?"
+
+There was an ugly flush in Mr. Horser's cheeks, but he struggled to
+keep his composure.
+
+"Will you give me back that report?"
+
+"When I have read it, with pleasure," Mr. Sabin answered.  "Before,
+no."
+
+Mr. Horser swallowed an exceedingly vicious oath.  He struck the
+table lightly with his forefinger.
+
+"Look here," he said.  "If you'd lived in New York a couple of
+years, even a couple of months, you wouldn't talk like that.  I tell
+you that I hold the government of this city in my right hand.  I
+don't want to be unpleasant, but if that paper is not in my hands
+by the time you leave this table I shall have you arrested as you
+leave this room, and the papers taken from you."
+
+"Dear me," Mr. Sabin said, "this is serious.  On what charge may I
+ask should I be exposed to this inconvenience?"
+
+"Charge be damned!" Mr. Horser answered.  "The police don't want
+particulars from me.  When I say do a thing they do it.  They know
+that if they declined it would be their last day on the force."
+
+Mr. Sabin filled his glass and leaned back in his chair.
+
+"This," he remarked, "is interesting.  I am always glad to have the
+opportunity of gaining an insight into the customs of different
+countries.  I had an idea that America was a country remarkable for
+the amount of liberty enjoyed by its inhabitants.  Your proposed
+course of action seems scarcely in keeping with this."
+
+"What are you going to do?  Come, I've got to have an answer."
+
+"I don't quite understand," Mr. Sabin remarked, with a puzzled look,
+"what your official position is in connection with the police."
+
+Mr. Horser's face was a very ugly sight.  "Oh, curse my official
+position," he exclaimed thickly.  "If you want proof of what I say
+you shall have it in less than five minutes.  Skinner, be off and
+fetch a couple of constables."
+
+"I really must protest," Mr. Sabin said.  "Mr. Skinner is my guest,
+and I will not have him treated in this fashion, just as the
+terrapin is coming in, too.  Sit down, Mr. Skinner, sit down.  I
+will settle this matter with you in my room, Mr. Horser, after I
+have dined.  I will not even discuss it before."
+
+Mr. Horser opened his mouth twice, and closed it again.  He knew
+that his opponent was simply playing to gain time, but, after all,
+he held the trump card.  He could afford to wait.  He turned to a
+waiter and ordered a cigar.  Mr. Sabin and Mr. Skinner continued
+their dinner.
+
+Conversation was a little difficult, though Mr. Sabin showed no
+signs of an impaired appetite.  Skinner was white with fear, and
+glanced every now and then nervously at his chief.  Mr. Horser
+smoked without ceasing, and maintained an ominous silence.  Mr.
+Sabin at last, with a sigh, rose, and lighting a cigarette, took
+his stick from the waiter and prepared to leave.
+
+"I fear, Mr. Horser," he remarked, "that your presence has scarcely
+contributed to the cheerfulness of our repast.  Mr. Skinner, am I
+to be favoured with your company also upstairs?"
+
+Horser clutched that gentleman's arm and whispered a few words in
+his ear.
+
+"Mr. Skinner," he said, "will join us presently.  What is your
+number?"
+
+"336," Mr. Sabin answered.  "You will excuse my somewhat slow
+progress."
+
+They crossed the hall and entered the elevator.  Mr. Horser's face
+began to clear.  In a moment or two they would be in Mr. Sabin's
+sitting-room-alone.  He regarded with satisfaction the other's slim,
+delicate figure and the limp with which he moved.  He felt that the
+danger was already over.
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+BUT, after all, things did not exactly turn out as Mr. Horser had
+imagined.  The sight of the empty room and the closed door were
+satisfactory enough, and he did not hesitate for a moment.
+
+"Look here, sir," he said, "you and I are going to settle this
+matter quick.  Whatever you paid Skinner you can have back again.
+But I'm going to have that report."
+
+He took a quick step forward with uplifted hand--and looked into
+the shining muzzle of a tiny revolver.  Behind it Mr. Sabin's face,
+no longer pleasant and courteous, had taken to itself some very
+grim lines.
+
+"I am a weak man, Mr. Horser, but I am never without the means of
+self-defence," Mr. Sabin said in a still, cold tone.  "Be so good
+as to sit down in that easy-chair."
+
+Mr. Horser hesitated.  For one moment he stood as though about to
+carry out his first intention.  He stood glaring at his opponent,
+his face contracted into a snarl, his whole appearance hideous,
+almost bestial.  Mr. Sabin smiled upon him contemptuously--the
+maddening, compelling smile of the born aristocrat.
+
+"Sit down!"
+
+Mr. Horser sat down, whereupon Mr. Sabin followed suit.
+
+"Now what have you to say to me?"  Mr. Sabin asked quietly.
+
+"I want that report," was the dogged answer.
+
+"You will not have it," Mr. Sabin answered.  "You can take that
+for granted.  You shall not take it from me by force, and I will
+see that you do not charm it out of my pocket by other means.  The
+information which it contains is of the utmost possible importance
+to me.  I have bought it and paid for it, and I shall use it."
+
+Mr. Horser moistened his dry lips.
+
+"I will give you," he said, "twenty thousand dollars for its return."
+
+Mr. Sabin laughed softly.
+
+"You bid high," he said.  "I begin to suspect that our friends on
+the other side of the water have been more than ordinarily kind to
+you."
+
+"I will give you--forty thousand dollars."
+
+Mr. Sabin raised his eyebrows.
+
+"So much?  After all, that sounds more like fear than anything.
+You cannot hope to make a profitable deal out of that.  Dear me!
+It seems only a few minutes ago that I heard your interesting friend,
+Mr. Skinner, shake with laughter at the mention of such a thing as
+a secret society."
+
+"Skinner is a blasted fool," Horser exclaimed fiercely.  "Listen
+here, Mr. Sabin.  You can read that report if you must, but, as
+I'm a living man you'll not stir from New York if you do.  I'll
+make your life a hell for you.  Don't you understand that no one
+but a born fool would dare to quarrel with me in this city?  I
+hold the prison keys, the police are mine.  I shall make my own
+charge, whatever I choose, and they shall prove it for me."
+
+Mr. Sabin shook his head.
+
+"This sounds very shocking," he remarked.  "I had no idea that the
+largest city of the most enlightened country in the world was in
+such a sorry plight."
+
+"Oh, curse your sarcasm," Mr. Horser said.  "I'm talking facts, and
+you've got to know them.  Will you give up that report?  You can
+find out all there is in it for yourself.  But I'm going to give it
+you straight.  If I don't have that report back unread, you'll never
+leave New York."
+
+Mr. Sabin was genuinely amused.
+
+"My good fellow," he said, "you have made yourself a notorious
+person in this country by dint of incessant bullying and bribing
+and corruption of every sort.  You may possess all the powers you
+claim.  Your only mistake seems to be that you are too thick-headed
+to know when you are overmatched.  I have been a diplomatist all my
+life," Mr. Sabin said, rising slowly to his feet, and with a sudden
+intent look upon his face, "and if I were to be outwitted by such a
+novice as you I should deserve to end my days--in New York."
+
+Mr. Horser rose also to his feet.  A smile of triumph was on his
+lips.
+
+"Well," he said, "we-- Come in!  Come in!"  The door was thrown
+open.  Skinner and two policemen entered.  Mr. Sabin leaned towards
+the wall, and in a second the room was plunged in darkness.
+
+"Turn on the lights!" Skinner shouted.  "Seize him!  He's in that
+corner.  Use your clubs!" Horser bawled.  "Stand by the door one
+of you.  Damnation, where is that switch?"
+
+He found it with a shout of triumph.  Lights flared out in the room.
+They stared around into every corner.  Mr. Sabin was not there.
+Then Horser saw the door leading into the bed-chamber, and flung
+himself against it with a hoarse cry of rage.
+
+"Break it open!" he cried to the policemen.
+
+They hammered upon it with their clubs.  Mr. Sabin's quiet voice
+came to them from the other side.
+
+"Pray do not disturb me, gentlemen," he said.  "I am reading."
+
+"Break it open, you damned fools!" Horser cried.  They battered at
+it sturdily, but the door was a solid one.  Suddenly they heard the
+key turn in the lock.  Mr. Sabin stood upon the threshold.
+
+"Gentlemen!" he exclaimed.  "These are my private apartments.  Why
+this violence?"
+
+He held out the paper.
+
+"This is mine," he said.  "The information which it contains is
+bought and paid for.  But if the giving it up will procure me the
+privilege of your departure, pray take it."
+
+Horser was purple with rage.  He pointed with shaking fist to the
+still, calm figure.
+
+"Arrest him," he ordered.  "Take him to the cells."
+
+Mr. Sabin shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"I am ready," he said, "but it is only fair to give you this warning.
+I am the Duke of Souspennier, and I am well known in England and
+France.  The paper which you saw me hand to the porter in the hall
+as we stepped into the elevator was a despatch in cipher to the
+English Ambassador at Washington, claiming his protection.  If you
+take me to prison to-night you will have him to deal with to-morrow."
+
+Mr. Horser bore himself in defeat better than at any time during
+the encounter.  He turned to the constables.
+
+"Go down stairs and wait for me in the hall," he ordered.  "You too,
+Skinner."
+
+They left the room.  Horser turned to Mr. Sabin, and the veins on
+his forehead stood out like whipcord.
+
+"I know when I'm beaten," he said.  "Keep your report, and be damned
+to you.  But remember that you and I have a score to settle, and you
+can ask those who know me how often Dick Horser comes out underneath
+in the long run."
+
+He followed the others.  Mr. Sabin sat down in his easy-chair with a
+quiet smile upon his lips.  Once more he glanced through the brief
+report.  Then his eyes half closed, and he sat quite still--a tired,
+weary-looking man, almost unnaturally pale.
+
+"They have kept their word," he said softly to himself, "after many
+years.  After many years!"
+
+      *           *           *           *           *
+
+Duson came in to undress him shortly afterwards.  He saw signs of
+the struggle, but made no comment.  Mr. Sabin, after a moment's
+hesitation, took a phial from his pocket and poured a few drops into
+a wineglassful of water.
+
+"Duson," he said, "bring me some despatch forms and a pencil."
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+Mr. Sabin wrote for several moments.  Then he placed the forms in
+an envelope, sealed it, and handed it to Duson.
+
+"Duson," he said, "that fellow Horser is annoyed with me.  If I
+should be arrested on any charge, or should fail to return to the
+hotel within reasonable time, break that seal and send off the
+telegrams."
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+Mr. Sabin yawned.
+
+"I need sleep," he said.  "Do not call me to-morrow morning until
+I ring.  And, Duson!"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"The Campania will sail from New York somewhere about the tenth of
+October.  I wish to secure the whole of stateroom number
+twenty-eight.  Go round to the office as soon as they open, secure
+that room if possible, and pay a deposit.  No other will do.  Also
+one for yourself."
+
+"Very good, sir."
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+"Here's a lady inquiring for you, sir--just gone up to your room in
+the elevator," the hotel clerk remarked to Mr. Sabin as he paused
+on his way to the door to hand in his key.  "Shall I send a boy up?"
+
+Mr. Sabin hesitated.
+
+"A lady?" he remarked tentatively.
+
+The hotel clerk nodded.
+
+"Yes.  I didn't notice the name, but she was an Englishwoman.  I'll
+send up."
+
+"Thank you, I will return," Mr. Sabin said.  "If I should miss her
+on the way perhaps you will kindly redirect her to my rooms."
+
+ He rang for the elevator, and was swiftly transported to his own
+floor.  The door of his sitting-room was open.  Duson was talking
+to a tall fair woman, who turned swiftly round at the sound of his
+approach.
+
+"Ah, they found you, then!" she exclaimed, coming towards him with
+outstretched hands.  "Isn't this a strange place and a strange
+country for us to meet once more in?"
+
+He greeted her gallantly, but with a certain reserve, of which she
+was at once aware.
+
+"Are there any countries in the world left which are strange to so
+great a traveler as Lady Muriel Carey?"  he said.  "The papers
+here have been full of your wonderful adventures in South Africa."
+
+She laughed.
+
+"Everything shockingly exaggerated, of course,"  she declared.  "I
+have really been plagued to death since I got here with interviewers,
+and that sort of person.  I wonder if you know how glad I am to see
+you again?"
+
+"You are very kind, indeed," he said.  "Certainly there was no one
+whom I expected less to see over here.  You have come for the yacht
+races, I suppose?"
+
+She looked at him with a faint smile and raised eyebrows.
+
+"Come," she said, "shall we lie to one another?  Is it worth while?
+Candour is so much more original."
+
+"Candour by all means then, I beg," he answered.
+
+"I have come over with the Dalkeiths, ostensibly to see the yacht
+races.  Really I have come to see you."
+
+Mr. Sabin bowed.
+
+"I am delightfully flattered," he murmured.
+
+"I don't exactly mean for the pleasure of gazing into your face
+once more," she continued.  "I have a mission!"
+
+Mr. Sabin looked up quickly.
+
+"Great heavens!  You, too!" he exclaimed.
+
+She nodded.
+
+"Why not?" she asked coolly.  "I have been in it for years, you
+know, and when I got back from South Africa everything seemed so
+terribly slow that I begged for some work to do."
+
+"And they sent you here--to me?"
+
+"Yes," she answered, "and I was here also a few weeks ago, but you
+must not ask me anything about that."
+
+Mr. Sabin's eyebrows contracted, his face darkened.  She shrank
+a little away from him.
+
+"So it is you who have robbed me of her, then," he said slowly.
+"Yes, the description fits you well enough.  I ask you, Lady Carey,
+to remember the last time when chance brought you and me together.
+Have I deserved this from you?"
+
+She made a little gesture of impotence.
+
+"Do be reasonable!" she begged.  "What choice had I?"
+
+He looked at her steadfastly.
+
+"The folly of women--of clever women such as you," he said, "is
+absolutely amazing.  You have deliberately made a slave of
+yourself--"
+
+"One must have distraction," she murmured.
+
+"Distraction!  And so you play at this sort of thing.  Is it worth
+while?"
+
+Her eyes for a moment clouded over with weariness.
+
+"When one has filled the cup of life to the brim for many years,"
+she said, "what remains that is worth while?"
+
+He bowed.
+
+"You are a young woman," he said.  "You should not yet have learned
+to speak with such bitterness.  As for me--well, I am old indeed.
+In youth and age the affections claim us.  I am approaching my
+second childhood."
+
+She laughed derisively, yet not unkindly.  "What folly!" she
+exclaimed.
+
+"You are right," he admitted.  "I suppose it is the fault of old
+associations."
+
+"In a few minutes," she said, smiling at him, "we should have become
+sentimental."
+
+"I," he admitted, "was floundering already."
+
+She shrugged her shoulders.
+
+"You talk as though sentiment were a bog."
+
+"There have been worse similes," he declared.
+
+"How horrid!  And do you know, sir, for all your indignation you
+have not yet even inquired after your wife's health."
+
+"I trust," he said, "that she is well."
+
+"She is in excellent health."
+
+"Your second visit to this country," he remarked, "follows very
+swiftly upon your first."
+
+She nodded.
+
+"I am here," she said, "on your account."
+
+"You excite my interest," he declared.  "May I know your mission?"
+
+"I have to remind you of your pledge," she said, "to assure you
+of Lucille's welfare, and to prevent your leaving the country."
+
+"Marvelous!" he exclaimed, with a slight mocking smile.  "And may
+I ask what means you intend to employ to keep me here?"
+
+"Well," she said, "I have large discretionary powers.  We have a
+very strong branch over on this side, but I would very much rather
+induce you to stay here without applying to them."
+
+"And the inducements?" he asked.
+
+She took a cigarette from a box which stood on the table and lit
+one.
+
+"Well," she said, "I might appeal to your hospitality, might I not?
+I am in a strange country which you have made your home.  I want to
+be shown round.  Do you remember dining with me one night at the
+Ambassador's?  It was very hot, even for Paris, and we drove
+afterwards in the Bois.  Ask me to dine with you here, won't you?
+I have never quite forgotten the last time."
+
+Mr. Sabin laughed softly, but with undisguised mirth.
+
+"Come," he said, "this is an excellent start.  You are to play the
+Circe up to date, and I am to be beguiled.  How ought I to answer
+you?  I do remember the Ambassador's, and I do remember driving
+down the Bois in your victoria, and holding--I believe I am right
+--your hand.  You have no right to disturb those charming memories
+by attempting to turn them into bathos."
+
+She blew out a little cloud of tobacco smoke, and watched it
+thoughtfully.
+
+"Ah!" she remarked.  "I wonder who is better at that, you or I?
+I may not be exactly a sentimental person, but you--you are a
+flint."
+
+"On the contrary," Mr. Sabin assured her earnestly, "I am very
+much in love with my wife."
+
+"Dear me!" she exclaimed.  "You carry originality to quixoticism.
+I have met several men before in my life whom I have suspected of
+such a thing, but I never heard any one confess it.  This little
+domestic contretemps is then, I presume, disagreeable to you!"
+
+"To the last degree," Mr. Sabin asserted.  "So much so that I
+leave for England by the Campania."
+
+She shook her head slowly.
+
+"I wouldn't if I were you."
+
+"Why not?"
+
+Lady Carey threw away the end of her cigarette, and looked for a
+moment thoughtfully at her long white fingers glittering with rings.
+Then she began to draw on her gloves.
+
+"Well, in the first place," she said, "Lucille will have no time to
+spare for you.  You will be de trop in decidedly an uncomfortable
+position.  You wouldn't find London at all a good place to live in
+just now, even if you ever got there--which I am inclined to doubt.
+And secondly, here am I--"
+
+"Circe!" he murmured.
+
+"Waiting to be entertained, in a strange country, almost friendless.
+I want to be shown everything, taken everywhere.  And I am dying to
+see your home at Lenox.  I do not think your attitude towards me in
+the least hospitable."
+
+"Come, you are judging me very quickly," he declared.  "What
+opportunities have I had?"
+
+"What opportunities can there be if you sail by the Campania?"
+
+"You might dine with me to-night at least."
+
+"Impossible!  The Dalkeiths have a party to meet me.  Come too,
+won't you?  They love dukes--even French ones."
+
+He shook his head.
+
+"There is no attraction for me in a large party," he answered.  "I
+am getting to an age when to make conversation in return for a
+dinner seems scarcely a fair exchange."
+
+"From your host's point of view, or yours?"
+
+"From both!  Besides, one's digestion suffers."
+
+"You are certainly getting old," she declared.  "Come, I must go.
+You haven't been a bit nice to me.  When shall I see you again?"
+
+"It is," he answered, "for you to say."
+
+She looked at him for a moment thoughtfully.
+
+"Supposing," she said, "that I cried off the yacht race to-day.
+Would you take me out to lunch?"
+
+He smiled.
+
+"My dear lady," he said, "it is for Circe to command--and for me
+to obey."
+
+"And you'll come and have tea with me afterwards at the Waldorf?"
+
+"That," Mr. Sabin declared, "will add still further to my happiness."
+
+"Will you call for me, then--and where shall we have lunch, and at
+what time?  I must go and develop a headache at once, or that
+tiresome Dalkeith boy will be pounding at my door."
+
+"I will call for you at the Waldorf at half-past one," Mr. Sabin
+said.  "Unless you have any choice, I will take you to a little
+place downtown where we can imagine ourselves back on the Continent,
+and where we shall be spared the horror of green corn."
+
+"Delightful," she murmured, buttoning her glove.  "Then you shall
+take me for a drive to Fifth Avenue, or to see somebody's tomb,
+and my woman shall make some real Russian tea for us in my
+sitting-room.  Really, I think I'm doing very well for the first
+day.  Is the spell beginning to work?"
+
+"Hideously," he assured her.  "I feel already that the only thing I
+dread in life are these two hours before luncheon."
+
+She nodded.
+
+"That is quite as it should be.  Don't trouble to come down with
+me.  I believe that Dalkeith pere is hanging round somewhere, and
+in view of my headache perhaps you had better remain in the
+background for the moment.  At one-thirty, then!"
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled as she passed out of the room, and lit a cigarette.
+
+"I think," he said to himself, "that the arrival of Felix is
+opportune."
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+They sat together at a small table, looking upon a scene which was
+probably unique in the history of the great restaurant.  The younger
+man was both frankly interested and undoubtedly curious.  Mr. Sabin,
+though his eyes seemed everywhere, retained to the full extent that
+nonchalance of manner which all his life he had so assiduously
+cultivated.
+
+"It is wonderful, my dear Felix," he said, leisurely drawing his
+cigarette-case from his pocket, "wonderful what good fellowship can
+be evolved by a kindred interest in sport, and a bottle or so of
+good champagne.  But, after all, this is not to be taken seriously."
+
+"Shamrock the fourth!  Shamrock the fourth!"
+
+A tall young American, his thick head of hair, which had once been
+carefully parted in the middle, a little disheveled, his hard,
+clean-cut face flushed with enthusiasm, had risen to his feet and
+stood with a brimming glass of champagne high over his head.  Almost
+every one in the room rose to their feet.  A college boy sprang upon
+a table with extended arms.  The Yale shout split the room.  The
+very glasses on the table rattled.
+
+"Columbia!  Columbia!"
+
+It was an Englishman now who had leaped upon a vacant table with
+upraised glass.  There was an answering roar of enthusiasm.  Every
+one drank, and every one sat down again with a pleasant thrill of
+excitement at this unique scene.  Felix leaned back in his chair
+and marveled.
+
+"One would have imagined," he murmured, "that America and England
+together were at war with the rest of the world and had won a great
+victory.  To think that this is all the result of a yacht race.  It
+is incredible!"
+
+"All your life, my dear Felix," Mr. Sabin remarked, "you have
+underrated the sporting instinct.  It has a great place amongst the
+impulses of the world.  See how it has brought these people
+together."
+
+"But they are already of the same kin," Felix remarked.  "Their
+interests and aims are alike.  Their destinies are surely identical."
+
+Mr. Sabin, who had lit his cigarette, watched the blue smoke curl
+upwards, and was thoughtful for a moment.
+
+"My dear Felix!" he said.  "You are very, very young.  The interests
+of two great nations such as America and England can never be alike.
+It is the language of diplomacy, but it is also the language of
+fools."
+
+Their conversation was for the moment interrupted by a fresh murmur
+of applause, rising above the loved hum of conversation, the laughter
+of women, and the popping of corks.  A little troop of waiters had
+just wheeled into the room two magnificent models of yachts hewn out
+of blocks of solid ice and crowned with flowers.  On the one were
+the Stars and Stripes, on the other the Shamrock and Thistle.  There
+was much clapping of hands and cheering.  Lady Carey, who was
+sitting at the next table with her back to them, joined in the
+applause so heartily that a tiny gold pencil attached to her bracelet
+became detached and rolled unobserved to Mr. Sabin's side.  Felix
+half rose to pick it up, but was suddenly checked by a quick gesture
+from his companion.
+
+"Leave it," Mr. Sabin whispered.  "I wish to return it myself."
+
+He stooped and picked it up, a certain stealthiness apparent in his
+movement.  Felix watched him in amazement.
+
+"It is Lady Carey's, is it not?" he asked.
+
+"Yes.  Be silent.  I will give it back to her presently."
+
+A waiter served them with coffee.  Mr. Sabin was idly sketching
+something on the back of his menu card.  Felix broke into a little
+laugh as the man retired.
+
+"Mysterious as ever," he remarked.
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled quietly.  He went on with his sketch.
+
+"I do not want," Felix said, "to seem impatient, but you must
+remember that I  have come all the way from Europe in response to
+a very urgent message.  As yet I have done nothing except form a
+very uncomfortable third at a luncheon and tea party, and listen
+to a good deal of enigmatic conversation between you and the
+charming Lady Carey.  This evening I made sure that I should be
+enlightened.  But no!  You have given me a wonderful dinner--from
+you I expected it.  We have eaten terrapin, canvas-back duck, and
+many other things the names of which alone were known to me.  But
+of the reason for which you have summoned me here--I know nothing.
+Not one word have you spoken.  I am beginning to fear from your
+avoidance of the subject that there is some trouble between you and
+Lucille.  I beg that you will set my anxiety at rest."
+
+Mr. Sabin nodded.
+
+"It is reasonable," he said.  "Look here!"
+
+He turned the menu card round.  On the back he had sketched some
+sort of a device with the pencil which he had picked up, and which
+instead of black-lead contained a peculiar shade of yellow crayon.
+Felix sat as though turned to stone.
+
+"Try," Mr. Sabin said smoothly, "and avoid that air of tragedy.
+Some of these good people might be curious."
+
+Felix leaned across the table.  He pointed to the
+menu card.
+
+"What does that mean?" he muttered.
+
+Mr. Sabin contemplated it himself thoughtfully.  "Well," he said,
+"I rather thought that you might be able to explain that to me.
+I have an idea that there is a society in Europe--sort of
+aristocratic odd-fellows, you know--who had adopted it for their
+crest.  Am I not right?"
+
+Felix looked at him steadfastly.
+
+"Tell me two things," he said.  "First, why you sent for me, and
+secondly, what do you mean--by that?"
+
+"Lucille," Mr. Sabin said, "has been taken away from me."
+
+"Lucille!  Great God!"
+
+"She has been taken away from me," Mr. Sabin said, "without a single
+word of warning."
+
+Felix pointed to the menu card.
+
+"By them?" he asked.
+
+"By them.  It was a month ago.  Two days before my cable."
+
+Felix was silent for several moments.  He had not the self-command
+of his companion, and he feared to trust himself to speech.
+
+"She has been taken to Europe," Mr. Sabin continued.  "I do not
+know, I cannot even guess at the reason.  She left no word.  I have
+been warned not to follow her."
+
+"You obey?"
+
+"I sail to-morrow."
+
+"And I?" Felix asked.
+
+Mr. Sabin looked for, a moment at the drawing on the back of the
+menu card, and up at Felix.  Felix shook his head.
+
+"You must know," he said, "that I am powerless."
+
+"You may be able to help me," Mr. Sabin said, "without compromising
+yourself."
+
+"Impossible!" Felix declared.  "But what did they want with Lucille?"
+
+"That," Mr. Sabin said, "is what I am desirous of knowing.  It is
+what I trust that you, my dear Felix, may assist me to discover."
+
+"You are determined, then, to follow her?"
+
+Mr. Sabin helped himself to a liqueur from the bottle by his side.
+
+"My dear Felix," he said reproachfully, "you should know me better
+than to ask me such a question."
+
+Felix moved uneasily in his chair.
+
+"Of course," he said, "it depends upon how much they want to keep
+you apart.  But you know that you are running great risks?"
+
+"Why, no," Mr. Sabin said.  "I scarcely thought that.  I have
+understood that the society was by no means in its former
+flourishing condition."
+
+Felix laughed scornfully.
+
+"They have never been," he answered, "richer or more powerful.
+During the last twelve months they have been active in every part
+of Europe."
+
+Mr. Sabin's face hardened.
+
+"Very well!" he said.  "We will try their strength."
+
+"We!" Felix laughed shortly.  "You forget that my hands are tied.
+I cannot help you or Lucille.  You must know that."
+
+"You cannot interfere directly," Mr. Sabin admitted.  "Yet you are
+Lucille's brother, and I am forced to appeal to you.  If you will
+be my companion for a little while I think I can show you how you
+can help Lucille at any rate, and yet run no risk."
+
+The little party at the next table were breaking up at last.  Lady
+Carey, pale and bored, with tired, swollen eyes--they were always
+a little prominent--rose languidly and began to gather together
+her belongings.  As she did so she looked over the back of her chair
+and met Mr. Sabin's eyes.  He rose at once and bowed.  She cast a
+quick sidelong glance at her companions, which he at once understood.
+
+"I have the honour, Lady Carey," he said, "of recalling myself to
+your recollection.  We met in Paris and London not so very many years
+ago.  You perhaps remember the cardinal's dinner?"
+
+A slight smile flickered upon her lips.  The man's adroitness always
+excited her admiration.
+
+"I remember it perfectly, and you, Duke," she answered.  "Have you
+made your home on this side of the water?"
+
+Mr. Sabin shook his head slowly.
+
+"Home!" he repeated.  "Ah, I was always a bird of passage, you
+remember.  Yet I have spent three very delightful years in this
+country."
+
+"And I," she said, lowering her tone and leaning towards him, "one
+very stupid, idiotic day."
+
+Mr. Sabin assumed the look of a man who denies any personal
+responsibility in an unfortunate happening.
+
+"It was regrettable," he murmured, "but I assure you that it was
+unavoidable.  Lucille's brother must have a certain claim upon me,
+and it was his first day in America."
+
+She was silent for a moment.  Then she turned abruptly towards the
+door.  Her friends were already on the way.
+
+"Come with me," she said.  "I want to speak to you."
+
+He followed her out into the lobby.  Felix came a few paces behind.
+The restaurant was still full of people, the hum of conversation
+almost drowning the music.  Every one glanced curiously at Lady
+Carey, who was a famous woman.  She carried herself with a certain
+insolent indifference, the national deportment of her sex and rank.
+The women whispered together that she was "very English."
+
+In the lobby she turned suddenly upon Mr. Sabin.
+
+"Will you take me back to my hotel?" she asked pointedly.
+
+"I regret that I cannot," he answered.  "I have promised to show
+Felix some of the wonders of New York by night."
+
+"You can take him to-morrow."
+
+"To-morrow," Mr. Sabin said, "he leaves for the West."
+
+She looked closely into his impassive face.
+
+"I suppose that you are lying," she said shortly.
+
+"Your candour," he answered coldly, "sometimes approaches brutality."
+
+She leaned towards him, her face suddenly softened.
+
+"We are playing a foolish game with one another," she murmured.  "I
+offer you an alliance, my friendship, perhaps my help."
+
+"What can I do," he answered gravely, "save be grateful--and accept?"
+
+"Then--"
+
+She stopped short.  It was Mr. Sabin's luck which had intervened.
+Herbert Daikeith stood at her elbow.
+
+"Lady Carey," he said, "they're all gone but the mater and I.
+Forgive my interrupting you," he added hastily.
+
+"You can go on, Herbert," she added.  "The Duc de Souspennier will
+bring me."
+
+Mr. Sabin, who had no intention of doing anything of the sort,
+turned towards the young man with a smile.
+
+"Lady Carey has not introduced us," he said, "but I have seen you
+at Ranelagh quite often.  If you are still keen on polo you should
+have a try over here.  I fancy you would find that these American
+youngsters can hold their own.  All right, Felix, I am ready now.
+Lady Carey, I shall do myself the honour of waiting upon you early
+to-morrow morning, as I have a little excursion to propose.
+Good-night."
+
+She shrugged her shoulders ever so slightly as she turned away.  Mr.
+Sabin smiled--faintly amused.  He turned to Felix.
+
+"Come," he said, "we have no time to lose."
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+"I regret," Mr. Sabin said to Felix as they sat side by side in the
+small coupe, "that your stay in this country will be so brief."
+
+"Indeed," Felix answered.  "May I ask what you call brief?"
+
+Mr. Sabin looked out of the carriage window.
+
+"We are already," he said, "on the way to England."
+
+Felix laughed.
+
+"This," he said, "is like old times."
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled.
+
+"The system of espionage here," he remarked, "is painfully primitive.
+It lacks finesse and judgment.  The fact that I have taken expensive
+rooms on the Campania, and that I have sent many packages there,
+that my own belongings are still in my rooms untouched, seems to our
+friends conclusive evidence that I am going to attempt to leave
+America by that boat.  They have, I believe, a warrant for my arrest
+on some ridiculous charge which they intend to present at the last
+moment.  They will not have the opportunity."
+
+"But there is no other steamer sailing to-morrow, is there?" Felix
+asked.
+
+"Not from New York," Mr. Sabin answered, "but it was never my
+intention to sail from New York.  We are on our way to Boston now,
+and we sail in the Saxonia at six o'clock to-morrow morning."
+
+"We appear to be stopping at the Waldorf," Felix remarked.
+
+"It is quite correct," Mr. Sabin answered.  "Follow me through the
+hall as quickly as possible.  There is another carriage waiting at
+the other entrance, and I expect to find in it Duson and my
+dressing-case."
+
+They alighted and made their way though the crowded vestibules.  At
+the Thirty-fourth Street entrance a carriage was drawn up.  Duson
+was standing upon the pavement, his pale, nervous face whiter than
+ever under the electric light.  Mr. Sabin stopped short.
+
+"Felix," he said, "one word.  If by any chance things have gone
+wrong they will not have made any arrangements to detain you.  Catch
+the midnight train to Boston and embark on the Saxonia.  There will
+be a cable for you at Liverpool.  But the moment you leave me send
+this despatch."
+
+Felix nodded and put the crumpled-up piece of paper in his pocket.
+The two men passed on.  Duson took off his hat, but his fingers were
+trembling.  The carriage door was opened and a tall, spare man
+descended.
+
+"This is Mr. Sabin?" he remarked.
+
+Mr. Sabin bowed.
+
+"That is my name," he admitted, "by which I have been generally
+called in this democratic country.  What is your business with me?"
+
+"I rather guess that you're my prisoner," the man answered.  "If
+you'll step right in here we can get away quietly."
+
+"The suggestion," Mr. Sabin remarked, "sounds inviting, but I am
+somewhat pressed for time.  Might I inquire the nature of the charge
+you have against me?"
+
+"They'll tell you that at the office," the man answered.  "Get in,
+please."
+
+Mr. Sabin looked around for Felix, but he had disappeared.  He took
+out his cigarette-case.
+
+"You will permit me first to light a cigarette," he remarked.
+
+"All right!  Only look sharp."
+
+Mr. Sabin kept silence in the carriage.  The drive was a long one.
+When they descended he looked up at Duson, who sat upon the box.
+
+"Duson," he said, and his voice, though low, was terrible, "I see
+that I can be mistaken in men.  You are a villain."
+
+The man sprung to his feet, hat in hand.  His face was wrung with
+emotion.
+
+"Your Grace," he said, "it is true that I betrayed you.  But I did
+it without reward.  I am a ruined man.  I did it because the orders
+which came to me were such as I dare not disobey.  Here are your
+keys, your Grace, and money."
+
+Mr. Sabin looked at him steadily.
+
+"You, too, Duson?"
+
+"I too, alas, your Grace!"
+
+Mr. Sabin considered for a moment.
+
+"Duson," he said, "I retain you in my service.  Take my luggage on
+board the Campania to-morrow afternoon, and pay the bill at the
+hotel.  I shall join you on the boat."
+
+Duson was amazed.  The man who was standing by laughed.
+
+"If you take my advice, sir," he remarked, "you'll order your
+clothes to be sent here.  I've a kind of fancy the Campania will
+sail without you to-morrow."
+
+"You have my orders, Duson," Mr. Sabin said.  "You can rely upon
+seeing me."
+
+The detective led the way into the building, and opened the door
+leading into a large, barely furnished office.
+
+"Chief's gone home for the night, I guess," he remarked.  "We can
+fix up a shakedown for you in one of the rooms behind."
+
+"I thank you," Mr. Sabin said, sitting down in a high-backed wooden
+chair; "I decline to move until the charge against me is properly
+explained."
+
+"There is no one here to do it just now," the man answered.  "Better
+make yourself comfortable for a bit."
+
+"You detain me here, then," Mr. Sabin said, "without even a sight
+of your warrant or any intimation as to the charge against me?"
+
+"Oh, the chief'll fix all that," the man answered.  "Don't you worry."
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled.
+
+In a magnificently furnished apartment somewhere in the neighbourhood
+of Fifth Avenue a small party of men were seated round a card table
+piled with chips and rolls of bills.  On the sideboard there was a
+great collection of empty bottles, spirit decanters and Vichy syphons.
+Mr. Horser was helping himself to brandy and water with one hand and
+holding himself up with the other.  There was a knock at the door.
+
+A man who was still playing looked up.  He was about fifty years of
+age, clean shaven, with vacuous eyes and a weak mouth.  He was the
+host of the party.
+
+"Come in!" he shouted.
+
+A young man entered in a long black overcoat and soft hat.  He
+looked about him without surprise, but he seemed to note Mr.
+Horser's presence with some concern.  The man at the table threw
+down his cards.
+
+"What the devil do you want, Smith?"
+
+"An important despatch from Washington has just arrived, sir.  I
+have brought it up with the codebook."
+
+"From Washington at this time of the night," he exclaimed thickly.
+"Come in here, Smith."
+
+He raised the curtains leading into a small anteroom, and turned
+up the electric light.  His clerk laid the message down on the
+table before him.
+
+"Here is the despatch, Mr. Mace," he said, "and here is the
+translation."
+
+"English Ambassador demands immediate explanation of arrest of
+Duke Souspennier at Waldorf to-night.  Reply immediately what
+charge and evidence.  Souspennier naturalised Englishman."
+
+Mr. Mace sprang to his feet with an oath.  He threw aside the
+curtain which shielded the room from the larger apartment.
+
+"Horser, come here, you damned fool!"
+
+Horser, with a stream of magnificent invectives, obeyed the summons.
+His host pointed to the message.
+
+"Read that!"
+
+Mr. Horser read and his face grew even more repulsive.  A dull
+purple flush suffused his cheeks, his eyes were bloodshot, and the
+veins on his forehead stood out like cords.  He leaned for several
+moments against the table and steadily cursed Mr. Sabin, the
+government at Washington, and something under his breath which he
+did not dare to name openly.
+
+"Oh, shut up!" his host said at last.  "How the devil are we going
+to get out of this?"
+
+Mr. Horser left the room and returned with a tumbler full of brandy
+and a very little water.
+
+"Take a drink yourself," he said.  "It'll steady you."
+
+"Oh, I'm steady enough," Mr. Mace replied impatiently.  "I want to
+know how you're going to get us out of this.  What was the charge,
+anyhow?"
+
+"Passing forged bills," Horser answered.  "Parsons fixed it up."
+
+Mr. Mace turned a shade paler.
+
+"Where the devil's the sense in a charge like that?" he answered
+fiercely.  "The man's a millionaire.  He'll turn the tables on us
+nicely."
+
+"We've got to keep him till after the Campania sails, anyhow,"
+Horser said doggedly.
+
+"We're not going to keep him ten minutes," Mace replied.  "I'm going
+to sign the order for his release."
+
+Horser's speech was thick with drunken fury.  "By --- I'll see that
+you don't!" he exclaimed.
+
+Mace turned upon him angrily.
+
+"You selfish fool!" he muttered.  "You're not in the thing, anyhow.
+If you think I'm going to risk my position for the sake of one
+little job you're wrong.  I shall go down myself and release him,
+with an apology."
+
+"He'll have his revenge all the same," Horser answered.  "It's too
+late now to funk the thing.  They can't budge you.  We'll see to
+that.  We hold New York in our hands.  Be a man, Mace, and run a
+little risk.  It's fifty thousand."
+
+Mace looked up at him curiously.
+
+"What do you get out of it, Horser?"
+
+Horser's face hardened.
+
+"Not one cent!" he declared fiercely.  "Only if I fail it might be
+unpleasant for me next time I crossed."
+
+"I don't know!" Mace declared weakly.  "I don't know what to do.
+It's twelve hours, Horser, and the charge is ridiculous."
+
+"You have me behind you."
+
+"I can't tell them that at Washington," Mace said.
+
+"It's a fact, all the same.  Don't be so damned nervous."
+
+Mace dismissed his clerk, and found his other guests, too, on the
+point of departure.  But the last had scarcely left before a servant
+entered with another despatch.
+
+"Release Souspennier."
+
+Mace handed it to his companion.
+
+"This settles it," he declared.  "I shall go round and try and make
+my peace with the fellow."
+
+Horser stood in the way, burly, half-drunk and vicious.  He struck
+his host in the face with clenched fist.  Mace went down with
+scarcely a groan.  A servant, hearing the fall, came hurrying back.
+
+"Your master is drunk and he has fallen down," Horser said.  "Put
+him to bed--give him a sleeping draught if you've got one."
+
+The servant bent over the unconscious man.
+
+"Hadn't I better fetch a doctor, sir?" he asked.  "I'm afraid he's
+hurt."
+
+"Not he!"  Horser answered contemptuously.  "He's cut his cheek a
+little, that's all.  Put him to bed.  Say I shall be round again by
+nine o'clock."
+
+Horser put on his coat and left the house.  The morning sunlight
+was flooding the streets.  Away down town Mr. Sabin was dozing in
+his high-backed chair.
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+Felix, after an uneventful voyage, landed duly at Liverpool.  To
+his amazement the first person he saw upon the quay was Mr. Sabin,
+leaning upon his stick and smoking a cigarette.
+
+"Come, come, Felix!" he exclaimed.  "Don't look at me as though I
+were a ghost.  You have very little confidence in me, after all, I
+see."
+
+"But--how did you get here?"
+
+"The Campania, of course.  I had plenty of time.  It was easy enough
+for those fellows to arrest me, but they never had a chance of
+holding me."
+
+"But how did you get away in time?"
+
+Mr. Sabin sighed.
+
+"It was very simple," he said.  "One day, while one of those
+wonderful spies was sleeping on my doormat I slipped away and went
+over to Washington, saw the English Ambassador, convinced him of my
+bonafides, told him very nearly the whole truth.  He promised if I
+wired him that I was arrested to take my case up at once.  You sent
+the despatch, and he kept his word.  I breakfasted on Saturday
+morning at the Waldorf, and though a great dray was driven into
+my carriage on the way to the boat, I escaped, as I always do--and
+here I am."
+
+"Unhurt!" Felix remarked with a smile, "as usual!"
+
+Mr. Sabin nodded.
+
+"The driver of my carriage was killed, and Duson had his arm broken,"
+he said.  "I stepped out of the debris without a scratch.  Come into
+the Customs House now and get your baggage through.  I have taken a
+coupe on the special train and ordered lunch."
+
+Before long they were on the way to London.  Mr. Sabin, whilst
+luncheon was being served, talked only of the lightest matters.
+But afterwards, when coffee was served and he had lit a cigarette,
+he leaned over towards Felix.
+
+"Felix," he said, "your sister is dear to you?"
+
+"She is the only creature on earth," Felix said, "whom I care for.
+She is very dear to me, indeed."
+
+"Am I right," Mr. Sabin asked, "in assuming that the old enmity
+between us is dead, that the last few years has wiped away the old
+soreness.
+
+"Yes," Felix answered.  "I know that she was happy with you.  That
+is enough for me."
+
+"You and I," Mr. Sabin continued, "must work out her salvation.  Do
+not be afraid that I am going to ask you impossibilities.  I know
+that our ways must lie apart.  You can go to her at once.  It may
+be many, many months before I can catch even a glimpse of her.
+Never mind.  Let me feel that she has you within the circle, and I
+without, with our lives devoted to her."
+
+"You may rely upon that," Felix answered.  "Wherever she is I am
+going.  I shall be there.  I will watch over her."
+
+Mr. Sabin sighed.
+
+"The more difficult task is mine," he said, "but I have no fear of
+failure.  I shall find her surrounded by spies, by those who are
+now my enemies.  Still, they will find it hard to shake me off.  It
+may be that they took her from me only out of revenge.  If that be
+so my task will be easier.  If there are other dangers which she is
+called upon to face, it is still possible that they might accept my
+service instead."
+
+"You would give it?" Felix exclaimed.
+
+"To the last drop of blood in my body," Mr. Sabin answered.  "Save
+for my love for her I am a dead man upon the earth.  I have no
+longer politics or ambition.  So the past can easily be expunged.
+Those who must be her guiding influence shall be mine."
+
+"You will win her back," Felix said.  "I am sure of it."
+
+"I am willing to pay any price on earth," Mr. Sabin answered.  "If
+they can forget the past I can.  I want you to remember this.  I
+want her to know it.  I want them to know it.  That is all, Felix."
+
+Mr. Sabin leaned back in his seat.  He had left this country last
+a stricken and defeated man, left it with the echoes of his ruined
+schemes crashing in his ears.  He came back to it a man with one
+purpose only, and that such a purpose as never before had guided
+him--the love of a woman.  Was it a sign of age, he wondered, this
+return to the humanities?  His life had been full of great schemes,
+he had wielded often a gigantic influence, more than once he had
+made history.  And now the love of these things had gone from him.
+Their fascination was powerless to quicken by a single beat his
+steady pulse.  Monarchy or republic--what did he care?  It was
+Lucille he wanted, the woman who had shown him how sweet even defeat
+might be, who had made these three years of his life so happy that
+they seemed to have passed in one delightful dream.  Were they dead,
+annihilated, these old ambitions, the old love of great doings, or
+did they only slumber?  He moved in his seat uneasily.
+
+At Euston the two men separated with a silent handshake.  Mr. Sabin
+drove to one of the largest and newest of the modern hotels de luxe.
+He entered his name as Mr. Sabin--the old exile's hatred of using
+his title in a foreign country had become a confirmed habit with
+him--and mingled freely with the crowds who thronged into the
+restaurant at night.  There were many faces which he remembered,
+there were a few who remembered him.  He neither courted nor shunned
+observation.  He sat at dinner-time at a retired table, and found
+himself watching the people with a stir of pleasure.  Afterwards he
+went round to a famous club, of which he had once been made a life
+member, but towards midnight he was wearied of the dull decorum of
+his surroundings, and returning to the hotel, sought the restaurant
+once more.  The stream of people coming in to supper was greater
+even than at dinner-time.  He found a small table, and ordered some
+oysters.  The sight of this bevy of pleasure-seekers, all apparently
+with multitudes of friends, might have engendered a sense of
+loneliness in a man of different disposition.  To Mr. Sabin his
+isolation was a luxury.  He had an uninterrupted opportunity of
+pursuing his favourite study.
+
+There entered a party towards midnight, to meet whom the head-waiter
+himself came hurrying from the further end of the room, and whose
+arrival created a little buzz of interest.  The woman who formed the
+central figure of the little group had for two years known no rival
+either at Court or in Society.  She was the most beautiful woman in
+England, beautiful too with all the subtle grace of her royal descent.
+There were women upon the stage whose faces might have borne
+comparison with hers, but there was not one who in a room would not
+have sunk into insignificance by her side.  Her movements, her
+carriage were incomparable--the inherited gifts of a race of women
+born in palaces.
+
+Mr. Sabin, who neither shunned nor courted observation, watched her
+with a grim smile which was not devoid of bitterness.  Suddenly she
+saw him.  With a little cry of wonder she came towards him with
+outstretched hands.
+
+"It is marvelous," she exclaimed.  "You?  Really you?"
+
+He bowed low over her hands.
+
+"It is I, dear Helene," he answered.  "A moment ago I was dreaming.
+I thought that I was back once more at Versailles, and in the
+presence of my Queen."
+
+She laughed softly.
+
+"There may be no Versailles," she murmured, "but you will be a
+courtier to the end of your days."
+
+"At least," he said, "believe me that my congratulations come from
+my heart.  Your happiness is written in your face, and your husband
+must be the proudest man in England."
+
+He was standing now by her side, and he held out his hand to Mr.
+Sabin.
+
+"I hope, sir," he said pleasantly, "that you bear me no ill-will."
+
+"It would be madness," Mr. Sabin answered.  "To be the most beautiful
+peeress in England is perhaps for Helene a happier fate than to be
+the first queen of a new dynasty."
+
+"And you, uncle?" Helene said.  "You are back from your exile then.
+How often I have felt disposed to smile when I thought of you, of
+all men, in America."
+
+"I went into exile," Mr. Sabin answered, "and I found paradise.  The
+three years which have passed since I saw you last have been the
+happiest of my life."
+
+"Lucille!" Helene exclaimed.
+
+"Is my wife," Mr. Sabin answered.
+
+"Delightful!" Helene murmured.  "She is with you then, I hope.
+Indeed, I felt sure that I saw her the other night at the opera."
+
+"At the opera!" Mr. Sabin for a moment was silent.  He would have
+been ashamed to confess that his heart was beating strongly, that a
+crowd of eager questions trembled upon his lips.  He recovered
+himself after a moment.
+
+"Lucille is not with me for the moment," he said in measured tones.
+"I am detaining you from your guests, Helene.  If you will permit
+me I will call upon you."
+
+"Won't you join us?" Lord Camperdown asked courteously.  "We are
+only a small party--the Portuguese Ambassador and his wife, the
+Duke of Medchester, and Stanley Phillipson."
+
+Mr. Sabin rose at once.
+
+"I shall be delighted," he said.
+
+Lord Camperdown hesitated for a moment.
+
+"I present Monsieur le Due de Souspennier, I presume?" he remarked,
+smiling.
+
+Mr. Sabin bowed.
+
+"I am Mr. Sabin," he said, "at the hotels and places where one
+travels.  To my friends I have no longer an incognito.  It is not
+necessary."
+
+It was a brilliant little supper party, and Mr. Sabin contributed
+at least his share to the general entertainment.  Before they
+dispersed he had to bring out his tablets to make notes of his
+engagements.  He stood on the top of the steps above the palm-court
+to wish them good-bye, leaning on his stick.  Helene turned back
+and waved her hand.
+
+"He is unchanged," she murmured, "yet I fear that there must be
+trouble."
+
+"Why?  He seemed cheerful enough," her husband remarked.
+
+She dropped her voice a little.
+
+"Lucille is in London.  She is staying at Dorset House."
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+Mr. Sabin was deep in thought.  He sat in an easy-chair with his
+back to the window, his hands crossed upon his stick, his eyes
+fixed upon the fire.  Duson was moving noiselessly about the room,
+cutting the morning's supply of newspapers and setting them out
+upon the table.  His master was in a mood which he had been taught
+to respect.  It was Mr. Sabin who broke the silence.
+
+"Duson!"
+
+"Your Grace!"
+
+"I have always, as you know, ignored your somewhat anomalous
+position as the servant of one man and the slave of a society.
+The questions which I am about to ask you you can answer or not,
+according to your own apprehensions of what is due to each."
+
+"I thank your Grace!"
+
+"My departure from America seemed to incite the most violent
+opposition on the part of your friends.  As you know, it was with
+a certain amount of difficulty that I reached this country.  Now,
+however, I am left altogether alone.  I have not received a single
+warning letter.  My comings and goings, although purposely devoid
+of the slightest secrecy, are absolutely undisturbed.  Yet I have
+some reason to believe that your mistress is in London."
+
+"Your Grace will pardon me," Duson said, "but there is outside a
+gentleman waiting to see you to whom you might address the same
+questions with better results, for compared with him I know nothing.
+It is Monsieur Felix."
+
+"Why have you kept him waiting?" Mr. Sabin asked.
+
+"Your Grace was much absorbed," Duson answered.
+
+Felix was smoking a cigarette, and Mr. Sabin greeted him with a
+certain grim cordiality.
+
+"Is this permitted--this visit?" he asked, himself selecting a
+cigarette and motioning his guest to a chair.
+
+"It is even encouraged," Felix answered.
+
+"You have perhaps some message?"
+
+"None."
+
+"I am glad to see you," Mr. Sabin said.  "Just now I am a little
+puzzled.  I will put the matter to you.  You shall answer or not,
+at your own discretion."
+
+"I am ready," Felix declared.
+
+"You know the difficulty with which I escaped from America," Mr.
+Sabin continued.  "Every means which ingenuity could suggest seemed
+brought to bear against me.  And every movement was directed, if not
+from here, from some place in Europe.  Well, I arrived here four
+days ago.  I live quite openly, I have even abjured to some extent
+my incognito.  Yet I have not received even a warning letter.  I am
+left absolutely undisturbed."
+
+Felix looked at him thoughtfully.
+
+"And what do you deduce from this?" he asked.
+
+"I do not like it," Mr. Sabin answered drily.
+
+"After all," Felix remarked, "it is to some extent natural.  The
+very openness of your life here makes interference with you more
+difficult, and as to warning letters--well, you have proved the
+uselessness of them."
+
+"Perhaps," Mr. Sabin answered.  "At the same time, if I were a
+superstitious person I should consider this inaction ominous."
+
+"You must take account also," Felix said, "of the difference in the
+countries.  In England the police system, if not the most infallible
+in the world, is certainly the most incorruptible.  There was never
+a country in which security of person and life was so keenly watched
+over as here.  In America, up to a certain point, a man is expected
+to look after himself.  The same feeling does not prevail here."
+
+Mr. Sabin assented.
+
+"And therefore," he remarked, "for the purposes of your friends I
+should consider this a difficult and unpromising country in which
+to work."
+
+"Other countries, other methods!" Felix remarked laconically.
+
+"Exactly!  It is the new methods which I am anxious to discover,"
+Mr. Sabin said.  "No glimmering of them as yet has been vouchsafed
+to me.  Yet I believe that I am right in assuming that for the
+moment London is the headquarters of your friends, and that Lucille
+is here?"
+
+"If that is meant for a question," Felix said, "I may not answer it."
+
+Mr. Sabin nodded.
+
+"Yet," he suggested, "your visit has an object.  To discover my
+plans perhaps!  You are welcome to them."
+
+Felix thoughtfully knocked the ashes off his cigarette.
+
+"My visit had an object," he admitted, "but it was a personal one.
+I am not actually concerned in the doings of those whom you have
+called my friends."
+
+"We are alone," Mr. Sabin reminded him.  "My time is yours."
+
+"You and I," Felix said, "have had our periods of bitter enmity.
+With your marriage to Lucille these, so far as I am concerned,
+ended for ever.  I will even admit that in my younger days I was
+prejudiced against you.  That has passed away.  You have been all
+your days a bold and unscrupulous schemer, but ends have at any
+rate been worthy ones.  To-day I am able to regard you with
+feelings of friendliness. You are the husband of my dear sister,
+and for years I know that you made her very happy.  I ask you, will
+you believe in this statement of my attitude towards you?"
+
+"I do not for a single moment doubt it," Mr. Sabin answered.
+
+"You will regard the advice which I am going to offer as
+disinterested?"
+
+"Certainly!"
+
+"Then I offer it to you earnestly, and with my whole heart.  Take
+the next steamer and go back to America."
+
+"And leave Lucille?  Go without making any effort to see her?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+Mr. Sabin was for a moment very serious indeed.  The advice given
+in such a manner was full of forebodings to him.  The lines from
+the corners of his mouth seemed graven into his face.
+
+"Felix," he said slowly, "I am sometimes conscious of the fact that
+I am passing into that period of life which we call old age.  My
+ambitions are dead, my energies are weakened.  For many years I have
+toiled--the time has come for rest.  Of all the great passions
+which I have felt there remains but one--Lucille.  Life without her
+is worth nothing to me.  I am weary of solitude, I am weary of
+everything except Lucille.  How then can I listen to such advice?
+For me it must be Lucille, or that little journey into the mists,
+from which one does not return."
+
+Felix was silent.  The pathos of this thing touched him.
+
+"I will not dispute the right of those who have taken her from me,"
+Mr. Sabin continued, "but I want her back.  She is necessary to me.
+My purse, my life, my brains are there to be thrown into the scales.
+I will buy her, or fight for her, or rejoin their ranks myself.  But
+I want her back."
+
+Still Felix was silent.  He was looking steadfastly into the fire.
+
+"You have heard me," Mr. Sabin said.
+
+"I have heard you," Felix answered.  "My advice stands,"
+
+"I know now," Mr. Sabin said, "that I have a hard task before me.
+They shall have me for a friend or an enemy.  I can still make
+myself felt as either.  You have nothing more to say?"
+
+"Nothing!"
+
+"Then let us part company," Mr. Sabin said, "or talk of something
+more cheerful.  You depress me, Felix.  Let Duson bring us wine.
+You look like a death's head."
+
+Felix roused himself.
+
+"You will go your own way," he said.  "Now that you have chosen I
+will tell you this.  I am glad.  Yes, let Duson bring wine.  I will
+drink to your health and to your success.  There have been times
+when men have performed miracles.  I shall drink to that miracle."
+
+Duson brought also a letter, which Mr. Sabin, with a nod towards
+Felix, opened.  It was from Helene.
+
+"15 Park Lane, London,
+"Thursday Morning.
+
+"My DEAR UNCLE,--
+
+"I want you to come to luncheon to-day.  The Princess de Catelan is
+here, and I am expecting also Mr. Brott, the Home Secretary--our
+one great politician, you know.  Many people say that he is the
+most interesting man in England, and must be our next Prime Minister.
+Such people interest you, I know.  Do come.
+
+                                                  "Yours sincerely,
+                                                       "HELENE."
+
+Mr. Sabin repeated the name to himself as he stood for a moment with
+the letter in his hand.
+
+"Brott!  What a name for a statesman!  Well, here is your health,
+Felix.  I do not often drink wine in the morning, but--"
+
+He broke off in the middle of his sentence.  The glass which Felix
+had been in the act of raising to his lips lay shattered upon the
+floor, and a little stream of wine trickled across the carpet.
+Felix himself seemed scarcely conscious of the disaster.  His cheeks
+were white, and he leaned across the table towards Mr. Sabin.
+
+"What name did you say--what name?"
+
+Mr. Sabin referred again to the letter which he held in his hand.
+
+"Brott!" he repeated.  "He is Home Secretary, I believe."
+
+"What do you know about him?"
+
+"Nothing," Mr. Sabin answered.  "My niece, the Countess of
+Camperdown, asks me to meet him to-day at luncheon.  Explain
+yourself, my young friend.  There is a fresh glass by your side."
+
+Felix poured himself out a glass and drank it off.  But he remained
+silent.
+
+"Well?"
+
+Felix picked up his gloves and stick.
+
+"You are asked to meet Mr. Brott at luncheon to-day?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Are you going?"
+
+"Certainly!"
+
+Felix nodded.
+
+"Very good," he said.  "I should advise you to cultivate his
+acquaintance.  He is a very extraordinary man."
+
+"Come, Felix," Mr. Sabin said.  "You owe me something more lucid in
+the way of explanations.  Who is he?"
+
+"A statesman--successful, ambitious.  He expects to be Prime
+Minister."
+
+"And what have I to do with him, or he with me?" Mr. Sabin asked
+quietly.
+
+Felix shook his head.
+
+"I cannot tell you," he said.  "Yet I fancy that you and he may
+some time be drawn together."
+
+Mr. Sabin asked no more questions, but he promptly sat down and
+accepted his niece's invitation.  When he looked round Felix had
+gone.  He rang the bell for Duson and handed him the note.
+
+"My town clothes, Duson," he ordered.  "I am lunching out."
+
+The man bowed and withdrew.  Mr. Sabin remained for a few moments
+in deep thought.
+
+"Brott!" he repeated.  "Brott!  It is a singular name."
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+So this was the man!  Mr. Sabin did not neglect his luncheon, nor
+was he ever for a moment unmindful of the grey-headed princess who
+chatted away by his side with all the vivacity of her race and sex.
+But he watched Mr. Brott.
+
+A man this!  Mr. Sabin was a judge, and he appraised him rightly.
+He saw through that courteous geniality of tone and gesture; the
+ready-made smile, although it seemed natural enough, did not
+deceive him.  Underneath was a man of iron, square-jawed, nervous,
+forceful.  Mr. Brott was probably at that time the ablest
+politician of either party in the country.  Mr. Sabin knew it.
+He found himself wondering exactly at what point of their lives
+this man and he would come into contact.
+
+After luncheon Helene brought them together.
+
+"I believe," she said to Mr. Brott, "that you have never met my
+UNCLE.  May I make you formally acquainted?  UNCLE, this is Mr.
+Brott, whom you must know a great deal about even though you have
+been away for so long--the Duc de Souspennier."
+
+The two men bowed and Helene passed on.  Mr. Sabin leaned upon his
+stick and watched keenly for any sign in the other's face.  If he
+expected to find it he was disappointed.  Either this man had no
+knowledge of who he was, or those things which were to come between
+them were as yet unborn.
+
+They strolled together after the other guests into the winter
+gardens, which were the envy of every hostess in London.  Mr. Sabin
+lit a cigarette, Mr. Brott regretfully declined.  He neither smoked
+nor drank wine.  Yet he was disposed to be friendly, and selected
+a seat where they were a little apart from the other guests.
+
+"You at least," he remarked, in answer to an observation of Mr.
+Sabin's, "are free from the tyranny of politics.  I am assuming, of
+course, that your country under its present form of government has
+lost its hold upon you."
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled.
+
+"It is a doubtful boon," he said.  "It is true that I am practically
+an exile.  Republican France has no need of me.  Had I been a
+soldier I could still have remained a patriot.  But for one whose
+leanings were towards politics, neither my father before me nor I
+could be of service to our country.  You should be thankful," he
+continued with a slight smile, "that you are an Englishman.  No
+constitution in the world can offer so much to the politician who
+is strong enough and fearless enough."
+
+Mr. Brott glanced towards his twinkling eyes.
+
+"Do you happen to know what my politics are?" he asked.
+
+Mr. Sabin hesitated.
+
+"Your views, I know, are advanced," he said.  "For the rest I have
+been abroad for years.  I have lost touch a little with affairs in
+this country."
+
+"I am afraid," Mr. Brott said, "that I shall shock you.  You are
+an aristocrat of the aristocrats, I a democrat of the democrats.
+The people are the only masters whom I own.  They first sent me to
+Parliament."
+
+"Yet," Mr. Sabin remarked, "you are, I understand, in the Cabinet."
+
+Mr. Brott glanced for a moment around.  The Prime Minister was
+somewhere in the winter gardens.
+
+"That," he declared, "is an accident.  I happened to be the only
+man available who could do the work when Lord Kilbrooke died.  I
+am telling you only what is an open secret.  But I am afraid I am
+boring you.  Shall we join the others?"
+
+"Not unless you yourself are anxious to," Mr. Sabin begged.  "It
+is scarcely fair to detain you talking to an old man when there
+are so many charming women here.  But I should be sorry for you
+to think me hidebound in my prejudices.  You must remember that
+the Revolution decimated my family.  It was a long time ago, but
+the horror of it is still a live thing."
+
+"Yet it was the natural outcome," Mr. Brott said, "of the things
+which went before.  Such hideous misgovernment as generations of
+your countrymen had suffered was logically bound to bring its own
+reprisal."
+
+"There is truth in what you say," Mr. Sabin admitted.  He did not
+want to talk about the French Revolution.
+
+"You are a stranger in London, are you not?" Mr. Brott asked.
+
+"I feel myself one," Mr. Sabin answered.  "I have been away for a
+few years, and I do not think that there is a city in the world
+where social changes are so rapid.  I should perhaps except the
+cities of the country from which I have come.  But then America
+is a universe of itself."
+
+For an instant Mr. Brott gave signs of the man underneath.  The air
+of polite interest had left his face.  He glanced swiftly and keenly
+at his companion.  Mr. Sabin's expression was immutable.  It was
+he who scored, for he marked the change, whilst Mr. Brott could not
+be sure whether he had noticed it or not.
+
+"You have been living in America, then?"
+
+"For several years--yes."
+
+"It is a country," Mr. Brott said, "which I am particularly anxious
+to visit.  I see my chances, however, grow fewer and fewer as the
+years go by."
+
+"For one like yourself," Mr. Sabin said, "whose instincts and
+sympathies are wholly with the democracy, a few months in America
+would be very well spent."
+
+"And you," Mr. Brott remarked, "how did you get on with the people?"
+
+Mr. Sabin traced a pattern with his stick upon the marble floor.
+
+"I lived in the country," he said, "I played golf and read and
+rested."
+
+"Were you anywhere near New York?" Mr. Brott asked.
+
+"A few hours' journey only," Mr. Sabin answered.  "My home was in
+a very picturesque part, near Lenox."
+
+Mr. Brott leaned a little forward.
+
+"You perhaps know then a lady who spent some time in that
+neighbourhood--a Mrs. James Peterson.  Her husband was, I
+believe, the American consul in Vienna."
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled very faintly.  His face betrayed no more than a
+natural and polite interest.  There was nothing to indicate the
+fact that his heart was beating like the heart of a young man, that
+the blood was rushing hot through his veins.
+
+"Yes," he said, "I know her very well.  Is she in London?"
+
+Mr. Brott hesitated.  He seemed a little uncertain how to continue.
+
+"To tell you the truth," he said, "I believe that she has reasons
+for desiring her present whereabouts to remain unknown.  I should
+perhaps not have mentioned her name at all.  It was, I fancy,
+indiscreet of me.  The coincidence of hearing you mention the name
+of the place where I believe she resided surprised my question.
+With your permission we will abandon the subject."
+
+"You disappoint me," Mr. Sabin said quietly.  "It would have given
+me much pleasure to have resumed my acquaintance with the lady in
+question."
+
+"You will, without doubt, have an opportunity," Mr. Brott said,
+glancing at his watch and suddenly rising.  "Dear me, how the time
+goes."
+
+He rose to his feet.  Mr. Sabin also rose.
+
+"Must I understand," he said in a low tone, "that you are not at
+liberty to give me Mrs. Peterson's address?"
+
+"I am not at liberty even," Mr. Brott answered, with a frown, "to
+mention her name.  It will give me great pleasure, Duke, to better
+my acquaintance with you.  Will you dine with me at the House of
+Commons one night next week?"
+
+"I shall be charmed," Mr. Sabin answered.  "My address for the next
+few days is at the Carlton.  I am staying there under my family
+name of Sabin--Mr. Sabin.  It is a fancy of mine--it has been ever
+since I became an alien--to use my title as little as possible."
+
+Mr. Brott looked for a moment puzzled.
+
+"Your pseudonym," he remarked thoughtfully, "seems very familiar
+to me."
+
+Mr. Sabin shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"It is a family name," he remarked, "but I flattered myself that it
+was at least uncommon."
+
+"Fancy, no doubt," Mr. Brott remarked, turning to make his adieux
+to his hostess.
+
+Mr. Sabin joined a fresh group of idlers under the palms.  Mr.
+Brott lingered over his farewells.
+
+"Your UNCLE, Lady Camperdown," he said, "is delightful.  I enjoy
+meeting new types, and he represents to me most perfectly the old
+order of French aristocracy."
+
+"I am glad," Helene said, "that you found him interesting.  I felt
+sure you would.  In fact, I asked him especially to meet you."
+
+"You are the most thoughtful of hostesses," he assured her.  "By
+the bye, your UNCLE has just told me the name by which he is known
+at the hotel.  Mr. Sabin!  Sabin!  It recalls something to my mind.
+I cannot exactly remember what."
+
+She smiled upon him.  People generally forgot things when Helene
+smiled.
+
+"It is an odd fancy of his to like his title so little," she
+remarked.  "At heart no one is prouder of their family and
+antecedents.  I have heard him say, though, that an exile had
+better leave behind him even his name."
+
+"Sabin!" Mr. Brott repeated.  "Sabin!"
+
+"It is an old family name," she murmured.
+
+His face suddenly cleared.  She knew that he had remembered.  But
+he took his leave with no further reference to it.
+
+"Sabin!" he repeated to himself when alone in his carriage.  "That
+was the name of the man who was supposed to be selling plans to the
+German Government.  Poor Renshaw was in a terrible stew about it.
+Sabin!  An uncommon name."
+
+He had ordered the coachman to drive to the House of Commons.
+Suddenly he pulled the check-string.
+
+"Call at Dorset House," he directed.
+
+      *          *            *          *            *
+
+Mr. Sabin lingered till nearly the last of the guests had gone.
+Then he led Helene once more into the winter gardens.
+
+"May I detain you for one moment's gossip?" he asked.  "I see your
+carriage at the door."
+
+She laughed.
+
+"It is nothing," she declared.  "I must drive in the Park for an
+hour.  One sees one's friends, and it is cool and refreshing after
+these heated rooms.  But at any time.  Talk to me as long as you
+will, and then I will drop you at the Carlton."
+
+"It is of Brott!" he remarked.  "Ah, I thank you, I will smoke.
+Your husband's taste in cigarettes is excellent."
+
+"Perhaps mine!" she laughed.
+
+Mr. Sabin shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"In either case I congratulate you.  This man Brott.  He interests
+me."
+
+"He interests every one.  Why not?  He is a great personality."
+
+"Politically," Mr. Sabin said, "the gauge of his success is of
+course the measure of the man.  But he himself--what manner of a
+man is he?"
+
+She tapped with her fingers upon the little table by their side.
+
+"He is rich," she said, "and an uncommon mixture of the student
+and the man of society.  He refuses many more invitations than he
+accepts, he entertains very seldom but very magnificently.  He has
+never been known to pay marked attentions to any woman, even the
+scandal of the clubs has passed him by.  What else can I say about
+him, I wonder?" she continued reflectively.  "Nothing, I think,
+except this.  He is a strong man.  You know that that counts for
+much."
+
+Mr. Sabin was silent.  Perhaps he was measuring his strength in some
+imagined encounter with this man.  Something in his face alarmed
+Helene.  She suddenly leaned forward and looked at him more closely.
+
+"UNCLE," she exclaimed in a low voice, "there is something on your
+mind.  Do not tell me that once more you are in the maze, that
+again you have schemes against this country."
+
+He smiled at her sadly enough, but she was reassured.
+
+"You need have no fear," he told her.  "With politics--I have
+finished.  Why I am here, what I am here for I will tell you very
+soon.  It is to find one whom I have lost--and who is dear to me.
+Forgive me if for to-day I say no more.  Come, if you will you shall
+drive me to my hotel."
+
+He offered his arm with the courtly grace which he knew so well how
+to assume.  Together they passed out to her carriage.
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+"After all," Lady Carey sighed, throwing down a racing calendar
+and lighting a cigarette, "London is the only thoroughly civilized
+Anglo-Saxon capital in the world.  Please don't look at me like
+that, Duchess.  I know--this is your holy of holies, but the Duke
+smokes here--I've seen him.  My cigarettes are very tiny and very
+harmless."
+
+The Duchess, who wore gold-rimmed spectacles, and was a person of
+weight in the councils of the Primrose League, went calmly on with
+her knitting.
+
+"My dear Muriel," she said, "if my approval or disapproval was of
+the slightest moment to you, it is not your smoking of which I
+should first complain.  I know, however, that you consider yourself
+a privileged person.  Pray do exactly as you like, but don't drop
+the ashes upon the carpet."
+
+Lady Carey laughed softly.
+
+"I suppose I am rather a thorn in your side as a relative," she
+remarked.  "You must put it down to the roving blood of my ancestors.
+I could no more live the life of you other women than I could fly.
+I must have excitement, movement, all the time."
+
+A tall, heavily built man, who had been reading some letters at the
+other end of the room, came sauntering up to them.
+
+"Well," he said, "you assuredly live up to your principles, for you
+travel all over the world as though it were one vast playground."
+
+"And sometimes," she remarked, "my journeys are not exactly
+successful.  I know that that is what you are dying to say."
+
+"On the contrary," he said, "I do not blame you at all for this last
+affair.  You brought Lucille here, which was excellent.  Your
+failure as regards Mr. Sabin is scarcely to be fastened upon you.
+It is Horser whom we hold responsible for that."
+
+She laughed.
+
+"Poor Horser!  It was rather rough to pit a creature like that
+against Souspennier."
+
+The man shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"Horser," he said, "may not be brilliant, but he had a great
+organisation at his back.  Souspennier was without friends or
+influence.  The contest should scarcely have been so one-sided.  To
+tell you the truth, my dear Muriel, I am more surprised that you
+yourself should have found the task beyond you."
+
+Lady Carey's face darkened.
+
+"It was too soon after the loss of Lucille," she said, "and besides,
+there was his vanity to be reckoned with.  It was like a challenge
+to him, and he had taken up the glove before I returned to New York."
+
+The Duchess looked up from her work.
+
+"Have you had any conversation with my husband, Prince?" she asked.
+
+The Prince of Saxe Leinitzer twirled his heavy moustache and sank
+into a chair between the two women.
+
+"I have had a long talk with him," he announced.  "And the result?"
+the Duchess asked.
+
+"The result I fear you would scarcely consider satisfactory," the
+Prince declared.  "The moment that I hinted at the existence of
+--er--conditions of which you, Duchess, are aware, he showed alarm,
+and I had all that I could do to reassure him.  I find it everywhere
+amongst your aristocracy--this stubborn confidence in the existence
+of the reigning order of things, this absolute detestation of
+anything approaching intrigue."
+
+"My dear man, I hope you don't include me," Lady Carey exclaimed.
+
+"You, Lady Muriel," he answered, with a slow smile, "are an
+exception to all rules.  No, you are a rule by yourself."
+
+"To revert to the subject then for a moment," the Duchess said
+stiffly.  "You have made no progress with the Duke?"
+
+"None whatever," Saxe Leinitzer admitted.  "He was sufficiently
+emphatic to inspire me with every caution.  Even now I have doubts
+as to whether I have altogether reassured him.  I really believe,
+dear Duchess, that we should be better off if you could persuade
+him to go and live upon his estates."
+
+The Duchess smiled grimly.
+
+"Whilst the House of Lords exists," she remarked, "you will never
+succeed in keeping Algernon away from London.  He is always on the
+point of making a speech, although he never does it."
+
+"I have heard of that speech," Lady Carey drawled, from her low
+seat.  "It is to be a thoroughly enlightening affair.  All the
+great social questions are to be permanently disposed of.  The
+Prime Minister will come on his knees and beg Algernon to take his
+place."
+
+The Duchess looked up over her knitting.
+
+"Algernon is at least in earnest," she remarked drily.  "And he
+has the good conscience of a clean living and honest man."
+
+"What an unpleasant possession it must be," Lady Carey remarked
+sweetly.  "I disposed of my conscience finally many years ago.  I
+am not sure, but I believe that it was the Prince to whom I
+entrusted the burying of it.  By the bye, Lucille will be here
+directly, I suppose.  Is she to be told of Souspennier's arrival
+in London?"
+
+"I imagine," the Prince said, with knitted brows, "that it will not
+be wise to keep it from her.  It is impossible to conceal her
+whereabouts, and the papers will very shortly acquaint her with his."
+
+"And," Lady Carey asked, "how does the little affair progress?"
+
+"Admirably," the Prince answered.  "Already some of the Society
+papers are beginning to chatter about the friendship existing
+between a Cabinet Minister and a beautiful Hungarian lady of title,
+etc., etc.  The fact of it is that Brott is in deadly earnest.  He
+gives himself away every time.  If Lucille has not lost old
+cleverness she will be able to twist him presently around her little
+finger."
+
+"If only some one would twist him on the rack," the Duchess
+murmured vindictively.  "I tried to read one of his speeches the other
+day. It was nothing more nor less than blasphemy.  I do not think that I
+am naturally a cruel woman, but I would hand such men over to the
+public executioner with joy."
+
+Lucille came in, as beautiful as ever, but with tired lines under
+her full dark eyes.  She sank into a low chair with listless grace.
+
+"Reginald Brott again, I suppose," she remarked curtly.  "I wish
+the man had never existed."
+
+"That is a very cruel speech, Lucille," the Prince said, with a
+languishing glance towards her, "for if it had not been for Brott
+we should never have dared to call you out from your seclusion."
+
+"Then more heartily than ever," Lucille declared, "I wish the man
+had never been born.  You cannot possibly flatter yourself, Prince,
+that your summons was a welcome one."
+
+He shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"I shall never, be able to believe," he said, "that the Countess
+Radantz was able to do more than support existence in a small
+American town--without society, with no scope for her ambitions,
+detached altogether from the whole civilized world."
+
+"Which only goes to prove, Prince," Lucille remarked contemptuously,
+"that you do not understand me in the least.  As a place of residence
+Lenox would compare very favourably with--say Homburg, and for
+companionship you forget my husband.  I never met the woman yet who
+did not prefer the company of one man, if only it were the right one,
+to the cosmopolitan throng we call society."
+
+"It sounds idyllic, but very gauche," Lady Carey remarked drily.
+"In effect it is rather a blow on the cheek for you, Prince.  Of
+course you know that the Prince is in love with you, Lucille?"
+
+"I wish he were," she answered, looking lazily out of the window.
+
+He bent over her.
+
+"Why?"
+
+"I would persuade him to send me home again," she answered coldly.
+
+The Duchess looked up from her knitting.  "Your husband has saved
+you the journey," she remarked, "even if you were able to work upon
+the Prince's good nature to such an extent."
+
+Lucille started round eagerly.
+
+"What do you mean?" she cried.
+
+"Your husband is in London," the Duchess answered.
+
+Lucille laughed with the gaiety of a child.  Like magic the lines
+from beneath her eyes seemed to have vanished.  Lady Carey watched
+her with pale cheeks and malevolent expression.
+
+"Come, Prince," she cried mockingly, "it was only a week ago that
+you assured me that my husband could not leave America.  Already
+he is in London.  I must go to see him.  Oh, I insist upon it."
+
+Saxe Leinitzer glanced towards the Duchess.  She laid down her
+knitting.
+
+"My dear Countess," she said firmly, "I beg that you will listen
+to me carefully.  I speak to you for your own good, and I believe
+I may add, Prince, that I speak with authority."
+
+"With authority!" the Prince echoed.
+
+"We all," the Duchess continued, "look upon your husband's arrival
+as inopportune and unfortunate.  We are all agreed that you must
+be kept apart.  Certain obligations have been laid upon you.  You
+could not possibly fulfil them with a husband at your elbow.  The
+matter will be put plainly before your husband, as I am now putting
+it before you.  He will be warned not to attempt to see or
+communicate with you as your husband.  If he or you disobey the
+consequences will be serious."
+
+Lucille shrugged her shoulders.
+
+"It is easy to talk," she said, "but you will not find it easy to
+keep Victor away when he has found out where I am."
+
+The Prince intervened.
+
+"We have no objection to your meeting," he said, "but it must be
+as acquaintances.  There must be no intermission or slackening in
+your task, and that can only be properly carried out by the Countess
+Radantz and from Dorset House."
+
+Lucille smothered her disappointment.
+
+"Dear me," she said.  "You will find Victor a little hard to
+persuade."
+
+There was a moment's silence.  Then the Prince spoke slowly, and
+watching carefully the effect of his words upon Lucille.
+
+"Countess," he said, "it has been our pleasure to make of your
+task so far as possible a holiday.  Yet perhaps it is wiser to
+remind you that underneath the glove is an iron hand.  We do not
+often threaten, but we brook no interference.  We have the means
+to thwart it.  I bear no ill-will to your husband, but to you I
+say this.  If he should be so mad as to defy us, to incite you to
+disobedience, he must pay the penalty."
+
+A servant entered.
+
+"Mr. Reginald Brott is in the small drawing-room, your Grace," he
+announced.  "He enquired for the Countess Radantz."
+
+Lucille rose.  When the servant had disappeared she turned round
+for a moment, and faced the Prince.  A spot of colour burned in her
+cheeks, her eyes were bright with anger.
+
+"I shall remember your words, Prince," she said.  "So far from mine
+being, however, a holiday task, it is one of the most wearisome and
+unpleasant I ever undertook.  And in return for your warnings let
+me tell you this.  If you should bring any harm upon my husband you
+shall answer for it all your days to me.  I will do my duty.  Be
+careful that you do not exceed yours."
+
+She swept out of the room.  Lady Carey laughed mockingly at the
+Prince.
+
+"Poor Ferdinand!" she exclaimed.
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+He had been kept waiting longer than usual, and he had somehow the
+feeling that his visit was ill-timed, when at last she came to him.
+He looked up eagerly as she entered the little reception room which
+he had grown to know so well during the last few weeks, and it
+struck him for the first time that her welcome was a little forced,
+her eyes a little weary.
+
+"I haven't," he said apologetically, "the least right to be here."
+
+"At least," she murmured, "I may be permitted to remind you that
+you are here without an invitation."
+
+"The worse luck," he said, "that one should be necessary."
+
+"This is the one hour of the day," she remarked, sinking into a
+large easy-chair, "which I devote to repose.  How shall I preserve
+my fleeting youth if you break in upon it in this ruthless manner?"
+
+"If I could only truthfully say that I was sorry," he answered,
+"but I can't.  I am here--and I would rather be here than anywhere
+else in the world."
+
+She looked at him with curving lips; and even he, who had watched
+her often, could not tell whether that curve was of scorn or mirth.
+
+"They told me," she said impressively, "that you were different--a
+woman-hater, honest, gruff, a little cynical.  Yet those are the
+speeches of your salad days.  What a disenchantment!"
+
+"The things which one invents when one is young," he said, "come
+perhaps fresh from the heart in later life.  The words may sound
+the same, but there is a difference."
+
+"Come," she said, "you are improving.  That at any rate is ingenious.
+Suppose you tell me now what has brought you here before four
+o'clock, when I am not fit to be seen?"
+
+He smiled.  She shrugged her shoulders.
+
+"I mean it.  I haven't either my clothes or my manners on yet.
+Come, explain."
+
+"I met a man who interested me," he answered.  "He comes from
+America, from Lenox!"
+
+He saw her whiten.  He saw her fingers clutch the sides of her
+chair.
+
+"From Lenox?  And his name?"
+
+"The Duke of Souspennier!  He takes himself so seriously that he
+even travels incognito.  At the hotel he calls himself Mr. Sabin."
+
+"Indeed!"
+
+"I wondered whether you might not know him?"
+
+"Yes, I know him."
+
+"And in connection with this man," Brott continued, "I have
+something in the nature of a confession to make.  I forgot for
+a moment your request.  I even mentioned your name."
+
+The pallor had spread to her cheeks, even to her lips.  Yet her
+eyes were soft and brilliant, so brilliant that they fascinated him.
+
+"What did he say?  What did he ask?"
+
+"He asked for your address.  Don't be afraid.  I made some excuse.
+I did not give it."
+
+For the life of him he could not tell whether she was pleased or
+disappointed.  She had turned her shoulder to him.  She was looking
+steadily out of the window, and he could not see her face.
+
+"Why are you curious about him?" she asked.
+
+"I wish I knew.  I think only because he came from Lenox."
+
+She turned her face slowly round towards him.  He was astonished to
+see the dark rings under her eyes, the weariness of her smile.
+
+"The Duke of Souspennier," she said slowly, "is an old and a dear
+friend of mine.  When you tell me that he is in London I am anxious
+because there are many here who are not his friends--who have no
+cause to love him."
+
+"I was wrong then," he said, "not to give him your address."
+
+"You were right," she answered.  "I am anxious that he should not
+know it.  You will remember this?"  He rose and bowed over her hand.
+
+"This has been a selfish interlude," he said.  "I have destroyed
+your rest, and I almost fear that I have also disturbed your peace
+of mind.  Let me take my leave and pray that you may recover both."
+
+She shook her head.
+
+"Do not leave me," she said.  "I am low-spirited.  You shall stay
+and cheer me."
+
+There was a light in his eyes which few people would have recognised.
+She rose with a little laugh and stood leaning towards the fire, her
+elbow upon the broad mantel, tall, graceful, alluring.  Her soft
+crimson gown, with its wealth of old lace, fell around her in lines
+and curves full of grace.  The pallor of her face was gone now--the
+warmth of the fire burned her cheeks.  Her voice became softer.
+
+"Sit down and talk to me," she murmured.  "Do you remember the old
+days, when you were a very timid young secretary of Sir George
+Nomsom, and I was a maid-of-honour at the Viennese Court?  Dear
+me, how you have changed!"
+
+"Time," he said, "will not stand still for all of us.  Yet my memory
+tells me how possible it would be--for indeed those days seem but
+as yesterday."
+
+He looked up at her with a sudden jealousy.  His tone shook with
+passion.  No one would have recognised Brott now.  In his fiercest
+hour of debate, his hour of greatest trial, he had worn his mask,
+always master of himself and his speech.  And now he had cast it
+off.  His eyes were hungry, his lips twitched.
+
+"As yesterday!  Lucille, I could kill you when I think of those
+days.  For twenty years your kiss has lain upon my lips--and you
+--with you--it has been different."
+
+She laughed softly upon him, laughed more with her eyes than with
+her lips.  She watched him curiously.
+
+"Dear me!" she murmured, "what would you have?  I am a woman--I
+have been a woman all my days, and the memory of one kiss grows cold.
+So I will admit that with me--it has been different.  Come!  What
+then?"
+
+He groaned.
+
+"I wonder," he said, "what miserable fate, what cursed stroke of
+fortune brought you once more into my life?"
+
+She threw her head back and laughed at him, this time heartily,
+unaffectedly.
+
+"What adorable candour!" she exclaimed.  "My dear friend, how
+amiable you are."
+
+He looked at her steadfastly, and somehow the laugh died away from
+her lips.
+
+"Lucille, will you marry me?"
+
+"Marry you?  I?  Certainly not."
+
+"And why not?"
+
+"For a score of reasons, if you want them," she answered.  "First,
+because I think it is delightful to have you for a friend.  I can
+never quite tell what you are going to do or say.  As a husband I
+am almost sure that you would be monotonous.  But then, how could
+you avoid it?  It is madness to think of destroying a pleasant
+friendship in such a manner."
+
+"You are mocking me," he said sadly.
+
+"Well," she said, "why not?  Your own proposal is a mockery."
+
+"A mockery!  My proposal!"
+
+"Yes," she answered steadily.  "You know quite well that the very
+thought of such a thing between you and me is an absurdity.  I
+abhor your politics, I detest your party.  You are ambitious, I
+know.  You intend to be Prime Minister, a people's Prime Minister.
+Well, for my part, I hate the people.  I am an aristocrat.  As
+your wife I should be in a perfectly ridiculous position.  How
+foolish!  You have led me into talking of this thing seriously.
+Let us forget all this rubbish."
+
+He stood before her--waiting patiently, his mouth close set, his
+manner dogged with purpose.
+
+"It is not rubbish," he said.  "It is true that I shall be Prime
+Minister.  It is true also that you will be my wife."
+
+She shrank back from him--uneasily.  The fire in his eyes, the
+ring in his tone distressed her.
+
+"As for my politics, you do not understand them.  But you shall!  I
+will convert you to my way of thinking.  Yes, I will do that.  The
+cause of the people, of freedom, is the one great impulse which
+beats through all the world.  You too shall hear it."
+
+"Thank you," she said.  "I have no wish to hear it. I do not believe
+in what you call freedom for the people.  I have discovered in
+America how uncomfortable a people's country can be."
+
+"Yet you married an American.  You call yourself still the Countess
+Radantz ... but you married Mr. James B. Peterson!"
+
+"It is true, my friend," she answered.  "But the American in
+question was a person of culture and intelligence, and at heart he
+was no more a democrat than I am.  Further, I am an extravagant
+woman, and he was a millionaire."
+
+"And you, after his death, without necessity--went to bury yourself
+in his country."
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"I am jealous of every year of your life which lies hidden from me,"
+he said slowly.
+
+"Dear me--how uncomfortable!"
+
+"Before you--reappeared," he said, "I had learnt, yes I had learnt
+to do without you.  I had sealed up the one chapter of my life
+which had in it anything to do with sentiment.  Your coming has
+altered all that.  You have disturbed the focus of my ambitions.
+Lucille!  I have loved you for more than half a lifetime.  Isn't it
+time I had my reward?"
+
+He took a quick step towards her.  In his tone was the ring of
+mastery, the light in his eyes was compelling.  She shrank back,
+but he seized one of her hands.  It lay between his, a cold dead
+thing.
+
+"What have my politics to do with it?" he asked fiercely.  "You are
+not an Englishwoman.  Be content that I shall set you far above
+these gods of my later life.  There is my work to be done, and I
+shall do it.  Let me be judge of these things.  Believe me that it
+is a great work.  If you are ambitious--give your ambitions into
+my keeping, and I will gratify them.  Only I cannot bear this
+suspense-these changing moods.  Marry me-now at once, or send me
+back to the old life."
+
+She drew her fingers away, and sank down into her easy-chair.  Her
+head was buried in her hands.  Was she thinking or weeping?  He
+could not decide.  While he hesitated she looked up, and he saw
+that there was no trace of tears upon her face.
+
+"You are too masterful," she said gently.  "I will not marry you.
+I will not give myself body and soul to any man.  Yet that is what
+you ask.  I am not a girl.  My opinions are as dear to me in their
+way as yours are to you.  You want me to close my eyes while you
+drop sugar plums into my mouth.  That is not my idea of life.  I
+think that you had better go away.  Let us forget these things."
+
+"Very well," he answered.  "It shall be as you say."  He did not
+wait for her to ring, nor did he attempt any sort of farewell.  He
+simply took up his hat, and before she could realise his intention
+he had left the room.  Lucille sat quite still, looking into the
+fire.
+
+"If only," she murmured, "if only this were the end."
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+Duson entered the sitting-room, noiseless as ever, with pale,
+passionless face, the absolute prototype of the perfect French
+servant, to whom any expression of vigorous life seems to savour
+of presumption.  He carried a small silver salver, on which
+reposed a card.
+
+"The gentleman is in the ante-room, sir," he announced.
+
+Mr. Sabin took up the card and studied it.
+
+"Lord Robert Foulkes."
+
+"Do I know this gentleman, Duson?" Mr. Sabin asked.
+
+"Not to my knowledge, sir," the man answered.
+
+"You must show him in," Mr. Sabin said, with a sigh.  "In this
+country one must never be rude to a lord."
+
+Duson obeyed.  Lord Robert Foulkes was a small young man, very
+carefully groomed, nondescript in appearance.  He smiled
+pleasantly at Mr. Sabin and drew off his gloves.
+
+"How do you do, Mr. Sabin?" he said.  "Don't remember me, I daresay.
+Met you once or twice last time you were in London.  I wish I could
+say that I was glad to see you here again."
+
+Mr. Sabin's forehead lost its wrinkle.  He knew where he was now.
+
+"Sit down, Lord Robert," he begged.  "I do not remember you, it is
+true, but I am getting an old man.  My memory sometimes plays me
+strange tricks."
+
+The young man looked at Mr. Sabin and laughed softly.  Indeed,
+Mr. Sabin had very little the appearance of an old man.  He was
+leaning with both hands clasped upon his stick, his face alert,
+his eyes bright and searching.
+
+"You carry your years well, Mr. Sabin.  Yet while we are on the
+subject, do you know that London is the unhealthiest city in the
+world?"
+
+"I am always remarkably well here," Mr. Sabin said drily.
+
+"London has changed since your last visit," Lord Robert said, with
+a gentle smile.  "Believe me if I say--as your sincere well-wisher
+--that there is something in the air at present positively
+unwholesome to you.  I am not sure that unwholesome is not too weak
+a word."
+
+"Is this official?" Mr. Sabin asked quietly.
+
+The young man fingered the gold chain which disappeared in his
+trousers pocket.
+
+"Need I introduce myself?" he asked.
+
+"Quite unnecessary," Mr. Sabin assured him.  "Permit me to reflect
+for a few minutes.  Your visit comes upon me as a surprise.  Will
+you smoke?  There are cigarettes at your elbow."
+
+"I am entirely at your service," Lord Robert answered.  "Thanks, I
+will try one of your cigarettes.  You were always famous for your
+tobacco."
+
+There was a short silence.  Mr. Sabin had seldom found it more
+difficult to see the way before him.
+
+"I imagined," he said at last, "from several little incidents which
+occurred previous to my leaving New York that my presence here was
+regarded as superfluous.  Do you know, I believe that I could
+convince you to the contrary."
+
+Lord Robert raised his eyebrows.
+
+"Mr. dear Mr. Sabin," he said, "pray reflect.  I am a messenger.
+No more!  A hired commissionaire!"
+
+Mr. Sabin bowed.
+
+"You are an ambassador!" he said.
+
+The young man shook his head.
+
+"You magnify my position," he declared.  "My errand is done when I
+remind you that it is many years since you visited Paris, that
+Vienna is as fascinating a city as ever, and Pesth a few hours
+journey beyond.  But London--no, London is not possible for you.
+After the seventh day from this London would be worse than
+impossible."
+
+Mr. Sabin smoked thoughtfully for a few moments.
+
+"Lord Robert," he said, "I have, I believe, the right of a personal
+appeal.  I desire to make it."
+
+Lord Robert looked positively distressed.
+
+"My dear sir," he said, "the right of appeal, any right of any
+sort, belongs only to those within the circle."
+
+"Exactly," Mr. Sabin agreed.  "I claim to belong there."
+
+Lord Roberts shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"You force me to remind you," he said, "of a certain decree--a
+decree of expulsion passed five years ago, and of which I presume
+due notification was given to you."
+
+Mr. Sabin shook his head very slowly.
+
+"I deny the legality of that decree," he said.  "There can be no
+such thing as expulsion."
+
+"There was Lefanu," Lord Robert murmured.
+
+"He died," Mr. Sabin answered.  "That was reasonable enough."
+
+"Your services had been great," Lord Robert said, "and your fault
+was but venial."
+
+"Nevertheless," Mr. Sabin said, "the one was logical, the other is
+not."
+
+"You claim, then," the young man said, "to be still within the
+circle?"
+
+"Certainly!"
+
+"You are aware that this is a very dangerous claim?"
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled, but he said nothing.  Lord Robert hastened to
+excuse himself.
+
+"I beg your pardon," he said.  "I should have known better than
+to have used such a word to you.  Permit me to take my leave."
+
+Mr. Sabin rose.
+
+"I thank you, sir," he said, "for the courteous manner in which you
+have discharged your mission."
+
+Lord Robert bowed.
+
+"My good wishes," he said, "are yours."
+
+Mr. Sabin when alone called Duson to him.
+
+"Have you any report to make, Duson?" he asked.
+
+"None, sir!"
+
+Mr. Sabin dismissed him impatiently.
+
+"After all, I am getting old.  He is young and he is strong--a
+worthy antagonist.  Come, let us see what this little volume has
+to say about him."
+
+He turned over the pages rapidly and read aloud.
+
+"Reginald Cyril Brott, born 18--, son of John Reginald Brott, Esq.,
+of Manchester.  Educated at Harrow and Merton College, Cambridge,
+M.A., LL.D., and winner of the Rudlock History Prize.  Also tenth
+wrangler.  Entered the diplomatic service on leaving college, and
+served as junior attache at Vienna."
+
+Mr. Sabin laid down the volume, and made a little calculation.  At
+the end of it he had made a discovery.  His face was very white
+and set.
+
+"I was at Petersburg," he muttered.  "Now I think of it, I heard
+something of a young English attache.  But--"
+
+He touched the bell.
+
+"Duson, a carriage!"
+
+At Camperdown House he learned that Helene was out--shopping, the
+hall porter believed.  Mr. Sabin drove slowly down Bond Street, and
+was rewarded by seeing her brougham outside a famous milliner's.  He
+waited for her upon the pavement.  Presently she came out and smiled
+her greetings upon him.
+
+"You were waiting for me?" she asked.
+
+"I saw your carriage."
+
+"How delightful of you.  Let me take you back to luncheon."
+
+He shook his head.
+
+"I am afraid," he said, "that I should be poor company.  May I
+drive home with you, at any rate, when you have finished?"
+
+"Of course you may, and for luncheon we shall be quite alone, unless
+somebody drops in."
+
+He took his seat beside her in the carriage.  "Helene," he said, "I
+am interested in Mr. Brott.  No, don't look at me like that.  You
+need have no fear.  My interest is in him as a man, and not as a
+politician.  The other days are over and done with now.  I am on
+the defensive and hard pressed."
+
+Her face was bright with sympathy.  She forgot everything except her
+old admiration for him.  In the clashing of their wills the victory
+had remained with her.  And as for those things which he had done,
+the cause at least had been a great one.  Her happiness had come to
+her through him.  She bore him no grudge for that fierce opposition
+which, after all, had been fruitless.
+
+"I believe you, UNCLE," she said affectionately.  "If I can help
+you in any way I will."
+
+"This Mr. Brott!  He goes very little into society, I believe."
+
+"Scarcely ever," she answered.  "He came to us because my husband
+is one of the few Radical peers."
+
+"You have not heard of any recent change in him--in this respect?"
+
+"Well, I did hear Wolfendon chaffing him the other day about
+somebody," she said.  "Oh, I know.  He has been going often to the
+Duchess of Dorset's.  He is such an ultra Radical, you know, and
+the Dorsets are fierce Tories.  Wolfendon says it is a most unwise
+thing for a good Radical who wants to retain the confidence of the
+people to be seen about with a Duchess."
+
+"The Duchess of Dorset," Mr. Sabin remarked, "must be, well--a
+middle-aged woman."
+
+Helene laughed.
+
+"She is sixty if she is a day.  But I daresay she herself is not
+the attraction.  There is a very beautiful woman staying with her
+--the Countess Radantz.  A Hungarian, I believe."
+
+Mr. Sabin sat quite still.  His face was turned away from Helene.
+She herself was smiling out of the window at some acquaintances.
+
+"I wonder if there is anything more that I can tell you?" she asked
+presently.
+
+He turned towards her with a faint smile.
+
+"You have told me," he said, "all that I want to know."
+
+She was struck by the change in his face, the quietness of his tone
+was ominous.
+
+"Am I meant to understand?" she said dubiously "because I don't in
+the least.  It seems to me that have told you nothing.  I cannot
+imagine what Mr. Brott and you have in common."
+
+"If your invitation to lunch still holds good," he said, "may I
+accept it?  Afterwards, if you can spare me a few minutes I will
+make things quite clear to you."
+
+She laughed.
+
+"You will find," she declared, "that I shall leave you little peace
+for luncheon.  I am consumed with curiosity."
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+Nevertheless, Mr. Sabin lunched with discretion, as usual, but with
+no lack of appetite.  It chanced that they were alone.  Lord
+Camperdown was down in the Midlands for a day's hunting, and Helene
+had ensured their seclusion from any one who might drop in by a
+whispered word to the hall porter as they passed into the house.
+It seemed to her that she had never found Mr. Sabin more
+entertaining, had never more appreciated his rare gift of effortless
+and anecdotal conversation.  What a marvelous memory!  He knew
+something of every country from the inside.  He had been brought at
+various times during his long diplomatic career into contact with
+most of the interesting people in the world.  He knew well how to
+separate the grain from the chaff according to the tastes of his
+listener.  The pathos of his present position appealed to her
+irresistibly.  The possibilities of his life had been so great,
+fortune had treated him always so strangely.  The greatest of his
+schemes had come so near to success, the luck had turned against
+him only at the very moment of fruition.  Helene felt very kindly
+towards her UNCLE as she led him, after luncheon, to a quiet corner
+of the winter garden, where a servant had already arranged a table
+with coffee and liqueurs and cigarettes.  Unscrupulous all his life,
+there had been an element of greatness in all his schemes.  Even
+his failures had been magnificent, for his successes he himself had
+seldom reaped the reward.  And now in the autumn of his days she
+felt dimly that he was threatened with some evil thing against which
+he stood at bay single-handed, likely perhaps to be overpowered.
+For there was something in his face just now which was strange to her.
+
+"Helene," he said quietly, "I suppose that you, who knew nothing of
+me till you left school, have looked upon me always as a selfish,
+passionless creature--a weaver of plots, perhaps sometimes a
+dreamer of dreams, but a person wholly self-centred, always
+self-engrossed?"
+
+She shook her head.
+
+"Not selfish!" she objected.  "No, I never thought that.  It is
+the wrong word."
+
+"At least," he said, "you will be surprised to hear that I have
+loved one woman all my life."
+
+She looked at him half doubtfully.
+
+"Yes," she said, "I am surprised to hear that."
+
+"I will surprise you still more.  I was married to her in America
+within a month of my arrival there.  We have lived together ever
+since.  And I have been very happy.  I speak, of course, of Lucille!"
+
+"It is amazing," she murmured.  "You must tell me all about it."
+
+"Not all," he answered sadly.  "Only this.  I met her first at
+Vienna when I was thirty-five, and she was eighteen.  I treated her
+shamefully.  Marriage seemed to me, with all my dreams of great
+achievements, an act of madness.  I believed in myself and my career.
+I believed that it was my destiny to restore the monarchy to our
+beloved country.  And I wanted to be free.  I think that I saw
+myself a second Napoleon.  So I won her love, took all that she had
+to give, and returned nothing.
+
+"In the course of years she married the son of the American Consul
+at Vienna.  I was obliged, by the bye, to fight her brother, and he
+carried his enmity to me through life.  I saw her sometimes in the
+course of years.  She was always beautiful, always surrounded by a
+host of admirers, always cold.  When the end of my great plans here
+came, and I myself was a fugitive, her brother found me out.  He
+gave me a letter to deliver in America.  I delivered it--to his
+sister.
+
+"She was as beautiful as ever, and alone in the world.  It seemed
+to me that I realised then how great my folly had been.  For always
+I had loved her, always there had been that jealously locked little
+chamber in my life.  Helene, she pointed no finger of scorn to my
+broken life.  She uttered no reproaches.  She took me as I was, and
+for three years our life together has been to me one long unbroken
+harmony.  Our tastes were very similar.  She was well read,
+receptive, a charming companion.  Ennui was a word of which I have
+forgotten the meaning.  And it seemed so with her, too, for she
+grew younger and more beautiful."
+
+"And why is she not with you?" Helene cried.  "I must go and see
+her.  How delightful it sounds!"
+
+"One day, about three months ago," Mr. Sabin continued, "she left
+me to go to New York for two days.  Her milliner in Paris had sent
+over, and twice a year Lucille used to buy clothes.  I had
+sometimes accompanied her, but she knew how I detested New York,
+and this time she did not press me to go.  She left me in the
+highest spirits, as tender and gracefully affectionate as ever.
+She never returned."
+
+Helene started in her chair.
+
+"Oh, UNCLE!" she cried.
+
+"I have never seen her since," he repeated.
+
+"Have you no clue?  She could not have left you willingly.  Have
+you no idea where she is?"
+
+He bowed his head slowly.
+
+"Yes," he said, "I know where she is.  She came to Europe with Lady
+Carey.  She is staying with the Duchess of Dorset."
+
+"The Countess Radantz?" Helene cried.
+
+"It was her maiden name," he answered.
+
+There was a moment's silence.  Helene was bewildered.
+
+"Then you have seen her?"
+
+He shook his head slowly.
+
+"No.  I did not even know where she was until you told me."
+
+"But why do you wait a single moment?" she asked.  "There must be
+some explanation.  Let me order a carriage now.  I will drive
+round to Dorset House with you."
+
+She half rose.  He held out his hand and checked her.
+
+"There are other things to be explained," he said quickly.  "Sit
+down, Helene."
+
+She obeyed him, mystified.
+
+"For your own sake," he continued, "there are certain facts in
+connection with this matter which I must withhold.  All I can tell
+you is this.  There are people who have acquired a hold upon
+Lucille so great that she is forced to obey their bidding.  Lady
+Carey is one, the Duchess of Dorset is another.  They are no
+friends of mine, and apparently Lucille has been taken away from
+me by them."
+
+"A--a hold upon her?" Helene repeated vaguely.
+
+"It is all I can tell you.  You must suppose an extreme case.  You
+may take my word for it that under certain circumstances Lucille
+would have no power to deny them anything."
+
+"But--without a word of farewell.  They could not insist upon her
+leaving you like that!  It is incredible!"
+
+"It is quite possible," Mr. Sabin said.
+
+Helene caught herself looking at him stealthily.  Was it possible
+that this wonderful brain had given way at last?  There were no
+signs of it in his face or expression.  But the Duchess of Dorset!
+Lady Carey!  These were women of her own circle--Londoners, and
+the Duchess, at any rate, a woman of the very highest social
+position and unimpeached conventionality.
+
+"This sounds--very extraordinary, UNCLE!" she remarked a little
+lamely.
+
+"It is extraordinary," he answered drily.  "I do not wonder that
+you find it hard to believe me.  I--"
+
+"Not to believe--to understand!"
+
+He smiled.
+
+"We will not distinguish!  After all, what does it matter?  Assume,
+if you cannot believe, that Lucille's leaving me may have been at
+the instigation of these people, and therefore involuntary.  If
+this be so I have hard battle to fight to win her back, but in the
+end I shall do it."
+
+She nodded sympathetically.
+
+"I am sure," she said, "that you will not find it difficult.  Tell
+me, cannot I help you in any way?  I know the Duchess very well
+indeed--well enough to take you to call quite informally if you
+please.  She is a great supporter of what they call the Primrose
+League here.  I do not understand what it is all about, but it
+seems that I may not join because my husband is a Radical."
+
+Mr. Sabin looked for a moment over his clasped hands through the
+faint blue cloud of cigarette smoke, and sundry possibilities
+flashed through his mind to be at once rejected.  He shook his
+head.
+
+"No!" he said firmly.  "I do not wish for your help at present,
+directly or indirectly.  If you meet the Countess I would rather
+that you did not mention my name.  There is only one person whom,
+if you met at Dorset House or anywhere where Lucille is, I would
+ask you to watch.  That is Mr. Brott!"
+
+It was to be a conversation full of surprises for Helene.  Mr.
+Brott!  Her hand went up to her forehead for a moment, and a
+little gesture of bewilderment escaped her.
+
+"Will you tell me," she asked almost plaintively,  "what on earth
+Mr. Brott can have to do with this business--with Lucille--with
+you--with any one connected with it?"
+
+Mr. Sabin shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"Mr. Brott," he remarked, "a Cabinet Minister of marked Radical
+proclivities, has lately been a frequent visitor at Dorset House,
+which is the very home of the old aristocratic Toryism.  Mr. Brott
+was acquainted with Lucille many years ago--in Vienna.  At that
+time he was, I believe, deeply interested in her.  I must confess
+that Mr. Brott causes me some uneasiness."
+
+"I think--that men always know," Helene said, "if they care to.
+Was Lucille happy with you?"
+
+"Absolutely.  I am sure of it."
+
+"Then your first assumption must be correct," she declared.  "You
+cannot explain things to me, so I cannot help you even with my
+advice.  I am sorry."
+
+He turned his head towards her and regarded her critically, as
+though making some test of her sincerity.
+
+"Helene," he said gravely, "it is for your own sake that I do not
+explain further, that I do not make things clearer to you.  Only
+I wanted you to understand why I once more set foot in Europe.  I
+wanted you to understand why I am here.  It is to win back Lucille.
+It is like that with me, Helene.  I, who once schemed and plotted
+for an empire, am once more a schemer and a worker, but for no
+other purpose than to recover possession of the woman whom I love.
+You do not recognise me, Helene.  I do not recognise myself.
+Nevertheless, I would have you know the truth.  I am here for that,
+and for no other purpose."
+
+He rose slowly to his feet.  She held out both her hands and
+grasped his.
+
+"Let me help you," she begged.  "Do!  This is not a matter of
+politics or anything compromising.  I am sure that I could be
+useful to you."
+
+"So you can," he answered quietly.  "Do as I have asked you.  Watch
+Mr. Brott!"
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+Mr. Brott and Mr. Sabin dined together--not, as it happened, at
+the House of Commons, but at the former's club in Pall Mall.  For
+Mr. Sabin it was not altogether an enjoyable meal.  The club was
+large, gloomy and political; the cooking was exactly of that order
+which such surroundings seemed to require.  Nor was Mr. Brott a
+particularly brilliant host.  Yet his guest derived a certain amount
+of pleasure from the entertainment, owing to Brott's constant
+endeavours to bring the conversation round to Lucille.
+
+"I find," he said, as they lit their cigarettes, "that I committed
+an indiscretion the other day at Camperdown House!"
+
+Mr. Sabin assumed the puzzled air of one endeavouring to pin down
+an elusive memory.
+
+"Let me see," he murmured doubtfully.  "It was in connection with--"
+
+"The Countess Radantz.  If you remember, I told you that it was her
+desire just now to remain incognito.  I, however, unfortunately
+forgot this during the course of our conversation."
+
+"Yes, I remember.  You told me where she was staying.  But the
+Countess and I are old acquaintances.  I feel sure that she did not
+object to your having given me her address.  I could not possibly
+leave London without calling upon her."
+
+Mr. Brott moved in his chair uneasily.
+
+"It seems presumption on my part to make such a suggestion perhaps,"
+he said slowly, "but I really believe that the Countess is in
+earnest with reference to her desire for seclusion just at present.
+I believe that she is really very anxious that her presence in
+London, just now should not be generally known."
+
+"I am such a very old friend," Mr. Sabin said.  "I knew her when
+she was a child."
+
+Mr. Brott nodded.
+
+"It is very strange," he said, "that you should have come together
+again in such a country as America, and in a small town too."
+
+"Lenox," Mr. Sabin said, "is a small place, but a great center.
+By the bye, is there not some question of an impending marriage on
+the part of the Countess?"
+
+"I have heard--of nothing of the sort," Mr. Brott said, looking up
+startled.  Then, after a moment's pause, during which he studied
+closely his companion's imperturbable face, he added the question
+which forced its way to his lips.
+
+"Have you?"
+
+Mr. Sabin looked along his cigarette and pinched it affectionately.
+It was one of his own, which he had dexterously substituted for
+those which his host had placed at his disposal.
+
+"The Countess is a very charming, a very beautiful, and a most
+attractive woman," he said slowly.  "Her marriage has always seemed
+to me a matter of certainty."
+
+Mr. Brott hesitated, and was lost.
+
+"You are an old friend of hers," he said.  "You perhaps know more
+of her recent history than I do.  For a time she seemed to drop out
+of my life altogether.  Now that she has come back I am very anxious
+to persuade her to marry me."
+
+A single lightning-like flash in Mr. Sabin's eyes for a moment
+disconcerted his host.  But, after all, it was gone with such
+amazing suddenness that it left behind it a sense of unreality.
+Mr. Brott decided that after all it must have been fancy.
+
+"May I ask," Mr. Sabin said quietly, "whether the Countess appears
+to receive your suit with favour?"
+
+Mr. Brott hesitated.
+
+"I am afraid I cannot go so far as to say that she does," he said
+regretfully.  "I do not know why I find myself talking on this
+matter to you.  I feel that I should apologise for giving such a
+personal turn to the conversation."
+
+"I beg that you will do nothing of the sort," Mr. Sabin protested.
+"I am, as a matter of fact, most deeply interested."
+
+"You encourage me," Mr. Brott declared, "to ask you a question--to
+me a very important question."
+
+"It will give me great pleasure," Mr. Sabin assured him, "if I am
+able to answer it."
+
+"You know," Mr. Brott said, "of that portion of her life concerning
+which I have asked no questions, but which somehow, whenever I think
+of it, fills me with a certain amount of uneasiness.  I refer to the
+last three years which the Countess has spent in America."
+
+Mr. Sabin looked up, and his lips seemed to move, but he said
+nothing.  Mr. Brott felt perhaps that he was on difficult ground.
+
+"I recognise the fact," he continued slowly, "that you are the
+friend of the Countess, and that you and I are nothing more than
+the merest acquaintances.  I ask my question therefore with some
+diffidence.  Can you tell me from your recent, more intimate
+knowledge of the Countess and her affairs, whether there exists
+any reason outside her own inclinations why she should not accept
+my proposals of marriage?"
+
+Mr. Sabin had the air of a man gravely surprised.  He shook his
+head very slightly.
+
+"You must not ask me such a question as that, Mr. Brott," he said.
+"It is not a subject which I could possibly discuss with you.  But
+I have no objection to going so far as this.  My experience of the
+Countess is that she is a woman of magnificent and effective will
+power.  I think if she has any desire to marry you there are or
+could be no obstacles existing which she would not easily dispose
+of."
+
+"There are obstacles, then?"
+
+"You must not ask me that," Mr. Sabin said, with a certain amount
+of stiffness.  "The Countess is a very dear friend of mine, and
+you must forgive me now if I say that I prefer not to discuss her
+any longer."
+
+A hall servant entered the room, bearing a note for Mr. Brott.  He
+received it at first carelessly, but his expression changed the
+moment he saw the superscription.  He turned a little away, and
+Mr. Sabin noticed that the fingers which tore open the envelope were
+trembling.  The note seemed short enough, but he must have read it
+half a dozen times before at last he turned round to the messenger.
+
+"There is no answer," he said in a low tone.
+
+He folded the note and put it carefully into his breast pocket.  Mr.
+Sabin subdued an insane desire to struggle with him and discover,
+by force, if necessary, who was the sender of those few brief lines.
+For Mr. Brott was a changed man.
+
+"I am afraid," he said, turning to his guest, "that this has been a
+very dull evening for you.  To tell you the truth, this club is not
+exactly the haunt of pleasure-seekers.  It generally oppresses me
+for the first hour or so.  Would you like a hand at bridge, or a
+game of billiards?  I am wholly at your service--until twelve
+o'clock."
+
+Mr. Sabin glanced at the clock.
+
+"You are very good," he said, "but I was never much good at indoor
+games.  Golf has been my only relaxation for many years.  Besides,
+I too have an engagement for which I must leave in a very few
+minutes."
+
+"It is very good of you," Mr. Brott said, "to have given me the
+pleasure of your company.  I have the greatest possible admiration
+for your niece, Mr. Sabin, and Camperdown is a thundering good
+fellow.  He will be our leader in the House of Lords before many
+years have passed."
+
+"He is, I believe," Mr. Sabin remarked, "of the same politics as
+yourself."
+
+"We are both," Mr. Brott answered, with a smile, "I am afraid
+outside the pale of your consideration in this respect.  We are
+both Radicals."
+
+Mr. Sabin lit another cigarette and glanced once more at the clock.
+
+"A Radical peer!" he remarked.  "Isn't that rather an anomaly?  The
+principles of Radicalism and aristocracy seem so divergent."
+
+"Yet," Mr. Brott said, "they are not wholly irreconcilable.  I have
+often wished that this could be more generally understood.  I find
+myself at times very unpopular with people, whose good opinion I am
+anxious to retain, simply owing to this too general misapprehension."
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled gently.
+
+"You were referring without doubt--" he began.
+
+"To the Countess," Brott admitted.  "Yes, it is true.  But after
+all," he added cheerfully, "I believe that our disagreements are
+mainly upon the surface.  The Countess is a woman of wide culture
+and understanding.  Her mind, too, is plastic.  She has few
+prejudices."
+
+Mr. Sabin glanced at the clock for the third time, and rose to his
+feet.  He was quite sure now that the note was from her.  He leaned
+on his stick and took his leave quietly.  All the time he was
+studying his host, wondering at his air of only partially suppressed
+excitement.
+
+"I must thank you very much, Mr. Brott," he said, "for your
+entertainment.  I trust that you will give me an opportunity shortly
+of reciprocating your hospitality."
+
+The two men parted finally in the hall.  Mr. Sabin stepped into his
+hired carriage.
+
+"Dorset House!" he directed.
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+"This little difference of opinion," the Prince remarked, looking
+thoughtfully through the emerald green of his liqueur, "interests
+me.  Our friend Dolinski here thinks that he will not come because
+he will be afraid.  De Brouillac, on the contrary, says that he
+will not come because he is too sagacious.  Felix here, who knows
+him best, says that he will not come because he prefers ever to
+play the game from outside the circle, a looker-on to all
+appearance, yet sometimes wielding an unseen force.   It is a
+strong position that."
+
+Lucille raised her head and regarded the last speaker steadily.
+
+"And I, Prince!" she exclaimed, "I say that he will come because
+he is a man, and because he does not know fear."
+
+The Prince of Saxe Leinitzer bowed low towards the speaker.
+
+"Dear Lucille," he said, so respectfully that the faint irony of
+his tone was lost to most of those present, "I, too, am of your
+opinion.  The man who has a right, real or fancied, to claim you
+must indeed be a coward if he suffered dangers of any sort to stand
+in the way.  After all, dangers from us!  Is it not a little absurd?"
+
+Lucille looked away from the Prince with a little shudder.  He
+laughed softly, and drank his liqueur.  Afterwards he leaned back
+for a moment in his chair and glanced thoughtfully around at the
+assembled company as though anxious to impress upon his memory all
+who were present.  It was a little group, every member of which
+bore a well-known name.  Their host, the Duke of Dorset, in whose
+splendid library they were assembled, was, if not the premier duke
+of the United Kingdom, at least one of those whose many hereditary
+offices and ancient family entitled him to a foremost place in the
+aristocracy of the world.  Raoul de Brouillac, Count of Orleans,
+bore a name which was scarcely absent from a single page of the
+martial history of France.  The Prince of Saxe Leinitzer kept up
+still a semblance of royalty in the State which his ancestors had
+ruled with despotic power.  Lady Muriel Carey was a younger
+daughter of a ducal house, which had more than once intermarried
+with Royalty.  The others, too, had their claims to be considered
+amongst the greatest families of Europe.
+
+The Prince glanced at his watch, and then at the bridge tables
+ready set out.
+
+"I think," he said, "that a little diversion--what does our
+hostess say?"
+
+"Two sets can start at least," the Duchess said.  "Lucille and I
+will stay out, and the Count de Brouillac does not play."
+
+The Prince rose.
+
+"It is agreed," he said.  "Duke, will you honour me?  Felix and
+Dolinski are our ancient adversaries.  It should be an interesting
+trial of strength."
+
+There was a general movement, a re-arrangement of seats, and a
+little buzz of conversation.  Then silence.  Lucille sat back in
+a great chair, and Lady Carey came over to her side.
+
+"You are nervous to-night, Lucille," she said.
+
+"Yes, I am nervous," Lucille admitted.  "Why not?  At any moment
+he may be here."
+
+"And you care--so much?" Lady Carey said, with a hard little laugh.
+
+"I care so much," Lucille echoed.
+
+Lady Carey shook out her amber satin skirt and sat down upon a low
+divan.  She held up her hands, small white hands, ablaze with
+jewels, and looked at them for a moment thoughtfully.
+
+"He was very much in earnest when I saw him at Sherry's in New
+York," she remarked, "and he was altogether too clever for Mr.
+Horser and our friends there.  After all their talk and boasting
+too.  Why, they are ignorant of the very elements of intrigue."
+
+Lucille sighed.
+
+"Here," she said, "it is different.  The Prince and he are ancient
+rivals, and Raoul de Brouillac is no longer his friend.  Muriel, I
+am afraid of what may happen."
+
+Lady Carey shrugged her shoulders.
+
+"He is no fool," she said in a low tone.  "He will not come here
+with a magistrate's warrant and a policeman to back it up, nor will
+he attempt to turn the thing into an Adelphi drama.  I know him well
+enough to be sure that he will attempt nothing crude.  Lucille,
+don't you find it exhilarating?"
+
+"Exhilarating?  But why?"
+
+"It will be a game played through to the end by masters, and you,
+my dear woman, are the inspiration.  I think that it is most
+fascinating."
+
+Lucille looked sadly into the fire.
+
+"I think," she said, "that I am weary of all these things.  I seem
+to have lived such a very long time.  At Lenox I was quite happy.
+Of my own will I would never have left it."
+
+Lady Carey's thin lips curled a little, her blue eyes were full of
+scorn.  She was not altogether a pleasant woman to look upon.  Her
+cheeks were thin and hollow, her eyes a little too prominent, some
+hidden expression which seemed at times to flit from one to the other
+of her features suggested a sensuality which was a little incongruous
+with her somewhat angular figure and generally cold demeanour.  But
+that she was a woman of courage and resource history had proved.
+
+"How idyllic!" she exclaimed.  "Positively medieval!  Fancy living
+with one man three years."
+
+Lucille smiled.
+
+"Why, not?  I never knew a woman yet however cold however fond of
+change, who had not at some time or other during her life met a man
+for whose sake she would have done--what I did.  I have had as many
+admirers--as many lovers, I suppose, as most women.  But I can
+truthfully say that during the last three years no thought of one
+of them has crossed my mind."
+
+Lady Carey laughed scornfully.
+
+"Upon my word," she said.  "If the Prince had not a temper, and if
+they were not playing for such ruinous points, I would entertain
+them all with these delightful confidences.  By the bye, the Prince
+himself was once one of those who fell before your chariot wheels,
+was he not?  Look at him now--sideways.  What does he remind you
+of?"
+
+Lucille raised her eyes.
+
+"A fat angel," she answered, "or something equally distasteful.  How
+I hate those mild eyes and that sweet, slow smile.  I saw him thrash
+a poor beater once in the Saxe Leinitzer forests.  Ugh!"
+
+"I should not blame him for that," Lady Carey said coldly.  "I like
+masterful men, even to the point of cruelty.  General Dolinski there
+fascinates me.  I believe that he keeps a little private knout at
+home for his wife and children.  A wicked little contrivance with
+an ivory handle.  I should like to see him use it."
+
+Lucille shuddered.  This tete-a-tete did not amuse her.  She rose
+and looked over one of the bridge tables for a minute.  The Prince,
+who was dealing, looked up with a smile.
+
+"Be my good angel, Countess," he begged.  "Fortune has deserted me
+to-night.  You shall be the goddess of chance, and smile your
+favours upon me."
+
+A hard little laugh came from the chair where Lady Carey sat.  She
+turned her head towards them, and there was a malicious gleam in
+her eyes.
+
+"Too late, Prince," she exclaimed.  "The favours of the Countess
+are all given away.  Lucille has become even as one of those
+flaxen-haired dolls of your mountain villages.  She has given her
+heart away, and she is sworn to perpetual constancy."
+
+The Prince smiled.
+
+"The absence," he said, glancing up at the clock, "of that most
+fortunate person should surely count in our favour."
+
+Lucille followed his eyes.  The clock was striking ten.  She
+shrugged her shoulders.
+
+"If the converse also is true, Prince," she said, "you can
+scarcely have anything to hope for from me.  For by half-past ten
+he will be here."
+
+The Prince picked up his cards and sorted them mechanically.
+
+"We shall see," he remarked.  "It is true, Countess, that you are
+here, but in this instance you are set with thorns."
+
+"To continue the allegory, Prince," she answered, passing on to
+the next table, "also with poisonous berries.  But to the hand
+which has no fear, neither are harmful."
+
+The Prince laid down his hand.
+
+"Now I really believe," he said gently, "that she meant to be rude.
+Partner, I declare hearts!"
+
+Felix was standing out from the next table whilst his hand was
+being played by General Dolinski, his partner.  He drew her a
+little on one side.
+
+"Do not irritate Saxe Leinitzer," he whispered.  "Remember,
+everything must rest with him.  Twice to-night you have brought
+that smile to his lips, and I never see it without thinking of
+unpleasant things."
+
+"You are right," she answered; "but I hate him so.  He and Muriel
+Carey seem to have entered into some conspiracy to lead me on to
+say things which I might regret."
+
+"Saxe Leinitzer," he said, "has never forgotten that he once
+aspired to be your lover."
+
+"He has not failed to let me know it," she answered.  "He has even
+dared--ah!"
+
+There was a sudden stir in the room.  The library door was thrown
+open.  The solemn-visaged butler stood upon the threshold.
+
+"His Grace the Duke of Souspennier!" he announced.
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+There was for the moment a dead silence.  The soft patter of cards
+no longer fell upon the table.  The eyes of every one were turned
+upon the newcomers.  And he, leaning upon his stick, looked only
+for one person, and having found her, took no heed of any one else.
+
+"Lucille!"
+
+She rose from her seat and stood with hands outstretched towards
+him, her lips parted in a delightful smile, her eyes soft with
+happiness.
+
+"Victor, welcome!  It is like you to have found me, and I knew
+that you would come."
+
+He raised her fingers to his lips--tenderly--with the grace of a
+prince, but all the affection of a lover.  What he said to her none
+could hear, for his voice was lowered almost to a whisper.  But the
+colour stained her cheeks, and her blush was the blush of a girl.
+
+A movement of the Duchess recalled him to a sense of his social
+duty.  He turned courteously to her with extended hand.
+
+"I trust," he said, "that I may be forgiven my temporary fit of
+aberration.  I cannot thank you sufficiently, Duchess, for your
+kind invitation."
+
+Her answering smile was a little dubious.
+
+"I am sure," she said "that we are delighted to welcome back
+amongst us so old and valued a friend.  I suppose you know every
+one?"
+
+Mr. Sabin looked searchingly around, exchanging bows with those
+whose faces were familiar to him.  But between him and the Prince
+of Saxe Leinitzer there passed no pretense at any greeting.  The
+two men eyed one another for a moment coldly.  Each seemed to be
+trying to read the other through.
+
+"I believe," Mr. Sabin said, "that I have that privilege.  I see,
+however, that I am interrupting your game.  Let me beg you to
+continue.  With your permission, Duchess, I will remain a spectator.
+There are many things which my wife and I have to say to one
+another."
+
+The Prince of Saxe Leinitzer laid his cards softly upon the table.
+He smiled upon Mr. Sabin--a slow, unpleasant smile.
+
+"I think," he said slowly, "that our game must be postponed.  It
+is a pity, but I think it had better be so."
+
+"It must be entirely as you wish," Mr. Sabin answered.  "I am at
+your service now or later."
+
+The Prince rose to his feet.
+
+"Monsieur le Due de Souspennier," he said, "what are we to
+conclude from your presence here this evening?"
+
+"It is obvious," Mr. Sabin answered.  "I claim my place amongst you."
+
+"You claim to be one of us?"
+
+"I do!"
+
+"Ten years ago," the Prince continued, "you were granted immunity
+from all the penalties and obligations which a co-membership with
+us might involve.  This privilege was extended to you on account
+of certain great operations in which you were then engaged, and
+the object of which was not foreign to our own aims.  You are aware
+that the period of that immunity is long since past."
+
+Mr. Sabin leaned with both hands upon his stick, and his face was
+like the face of a sphinx.  Only Lucille, who knew him best of all
+those there, saw him wince for a moment before this reminder of his
+great failure.
+
+"I am not accustomed," Mr. Sabin said quietly, "to shirk my share
+of the work in any undertaking with which I am connected.  Only in
+this case I claim to take the place of the Countess Lucille, my
+wife.  I request that the task, whatever it may be which you have
+imposed upon her, may be transferred to me."
+
+The Prince's smile was sweet, but those who knew him best wondered
+what evil it might betoken for his ancient enemy.
+
+"You offer yourself, then, as a full member?"
+
+"Assuredly!"
+
+"Subject," he drawled, "to all the usual pains and privileges?"
+
+"Certainly!"
+
+The Prince played with the cards upon the table.  His smooth, fair
+face was unruffled, almost undisturbed.  Yet underneath he was
+wondering fiercely, eagerly, how this might serve his ends.
+
+"The circumstances," he said at last, "are peculiar.  I think that
+we should do well to consult together--you and I, Felix, and
+Raoul here."
+
+The two men named rose up silently.  The Prince pointed to a
+small round table at the farther end of the apartment, half
+screened off by a curtained recess.
+
+"Am I also," Mr. Sabin asked, "of your company?"
+
+The Prince shook his head.
+
+"I think not," he said.  "In a few moments we will return."
+
+Mr. Sabin moved away with a slight enigmatic gesture.  Lucille
+gathered up her skirts, making room for him by her side on a
+small sofa.
+
+"It is delightful to see you, Victor," she murmured.  "It is
+delightful to know that you trusted me."
+
+Mr. Sabin looked at her, and the smile which no other woman had
+ever seen softened for a moment his face.
+
+"Dear Lucille," he murmured, "how could you ever doubt it?  There
+was a day, I admit, when the sun stood still, when, if I had felt
+inclined to turn to light literature, I should have read aloud
+the Book of Job.  But afterwards--well, you see that I am here."
+
+She laughed.
+
+"I knew that you would come," she said, "and yet I knew that it
+would be a struggle between you and them.  For--the Prince--" she
+murmured, lowering her voice, "had pledged his word to keep us
+apart."
+
+Mr. Sabin raised his head, and his eyes traveled towards the
+figure of the man who sat with his back to them in the far distant
+corner of the room.
+
+"The Prince," he said softly, "is faithful to his ancient enmities."
+
+Lucille's face was troubled.  She turned to her companion with a
+little grimace.
+
+"He would have me believe," she murmured, "that he is faithful to
+other things besides his enmities."
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled.
+
+"I am not jealous," he said softly, "of the Prince of Saxe Leinitzer!"
+
+As though attracted by the mention of his name, which must, however,
+have been unheard by him, the Prince at that moment turned round and
+looked for a moment towards them.  He shot a quick glance at Lady
+Carey.  Almost at once she rose from her chair and came across to
+them.
+
+"The Prince's watch-dog," Lucille murmured.  "Hateful woman!  She is
+bound hand and foot to him, and yet--"
+
+Her eyes met his, and he laughed.
+
+"Really," he said, "you and I in our old age might be hero and
+heroine of a little romance--the undesiring objects of a hopeless
+affection!"
+
+Lady Carey sank into a low chair by their side.  "You two," she
+said, with a slow, malicious smile, "are a pattern to this wicked
+world.  Don't you know that such fidelity is positively sinful, and
+after three years in such a country too?"
+
+"It is the approach of senility," Mr. Sabin answered her.  "I am
+an old man, Lady Muriel!"
+
+She shrugged her shoulders.
+
+"You are like Ulysses," she said.  "The gods, or rather the
+goddesses, have helped you towards immortality."
+
+"It is," Mr. Sabin answered, "the most delicious piece of flattery
+I have ever heard."
+
+"Calypso," she murmured, nodding towards Lucille, "is by your side."
+
+"Really," Mr. Sabin interrupted, "I must protest.  Lucille and I
+were married by a most respectable Episcopalian clergyman.  We have
+documentary evidence.  Besides, if Lucille is Calypso, what about
+Penelope?"
+
+Lady Carey smiled thoughtfully.
+
+"I have always thought," she said, "that Penelope was a myth.  In
+your case I should say that Penelope represents a return to sanity
+--to the ordinary ways of life."
+
+Mr. Sabin and Lucille exchanged swift glances.  He raised his
+eyebrows.
+
+"Our little idyll," he said, "seems to be the sport and buffet of
+every one.  You forget that I am of the old world.  I do not
+understand modernity."
+
+"Ulysses," she answered, "was of the old world, yet he was a
+wanderer in more senses of the word than one. And there have been
+times--"
+
+Her eyes sought his.  He ignored absolutely the subtlety of meaning
+which lurked beneath the heavy drooping eyelids.
+
+"One travels through life," he answered, "by devious paths, and a
+little wandering in the flower-gardens by the way is the lot of every
+one.  But when the journey is over, one's taste for wandering has
+gone--well, Ulysses finished his days at the hearth of Penelope."
+
+She rose and walked away.  Mr. Sabin sat still and watched her as
+though listening to the soft sweep of her gown upon the carpet.
+
+"Hateful woman!" Lucille exclaimed lightly.  "To make love, and
+such love, to one's lawful husband before one's face is a little
+crude, don't you think?"
+
+He shook his head.
+
+"Too obvious," he answered.  "She is playing the Prince's game.
+Dear me, how interesting this will be soon."
+
+She nodded.  A faint smile of bitterness had stolen into her tone.
+
+"Already," she said, "you are beginning to scent the delight of
+the atmosphere.  You are stiffening for the fight.  Soon--"
+
+"Ah, no!  Don't say it," he whispered, taking her hand.  "I shall
+never forget.  If the fight seems good to me it is because you are
+the prize, and after all, you know, to fight for one's womenkind
+is amongst the primeval instincts."
+
+Lady Carey, who had been pacing the room restlessly, touching an
+ornament here, looking at a picture there, came back to them and
+stood before Mr. Sabin.  She had caught his last words.
+
+"Primeval instincts!" she exclaimed mockingly.  "What do you know
+about them, you of all men, a bundle of nerves and brains, with a
+motor for a heart, and an automatic brake upon your passions?  Upon
+my word, I believe that I have solved the mystery of your perennial
+youth.  You have found a way of substituting machinery for the human
+organ, and you are wound up to go for ever."
+
+"You have found me out," he admitted.  "Professor Penningram of
+Chicago will supply you too with an outfit.  Mention my name if you
+like.  It is a wonderful country America."
+
+The Prince came over to them, fair and bland with no trace upon his
+smooth features or in his half-jesting tone of any evil things.
+
+"Souspennier," he said, holding out his hand, "welcome back once
+more to your old place.  I am happy to say that there appears to be
+no reason why your claim should not be fully admitted."
+
+Mr. Sabin rose to his feet.
+
+"I presume," he said, "that no very active demands are likely to be
+made upon my services.  In this country more than any other I fear
+that the possibilities of my aid are scanty."
+
+The Prince smiled.
+
+"It is a fact," he said, "which we all appreciate.  Upon you at
+present we make no claim."
+
+There was a moment's intense silence.  A steely light glittered in
+Mr. Sabin's eyes.  He and the Prince alone remained standing.  The
+Duchess of Dorset watched them through her lorgnettes; Lady Carey
+watched too with an intense eagerness, her eyes alight with mingled
+cruelty and excitement.  Lucille's eyes were so bright that one
+might readily believe the tears to be glistening beneath.
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+"I will not pretend," Mr. Sabin said, "to misunderstand you.  My
+help is not required by you in this enterprise, whatever it may be,
+in which you are engaged.  On the contrary, you have tried by many
+and various ways to keep me at a distance.  But I am here, Prince
+--here to be dealt with and treated according to my rights."
+
+The Prince stroked his fair moustache.
+
+"I am a little puzzled," he admitted, "as to this--shall I not
+call it self-assertiveness?--on the part of my good friend
+Souspennier."
+
+"I will make it quite clear then," Mr. Sabin answered.  "Lucille,
+will you favour me by ringing for your maid.  The carriage is at
+the door."
+
+The Prince held out his hand.
+
+"My dear Souspennier," he said, "you must not think of taking
+Lucille away from us."
+
+"Indeed," Mr. Sabin answered coolly.  "Why not?"
+
+"It must be obvious to you," the Prince answered, "that we did not
+send to America for Lucille without an object.  She is now engaged
+in an important work upon our behalf.  It is necessary that she
+should remain under this roof."
+
+"I demand," Mr. Sabin said, "that the nature of that necessity
+should be made clear to me."
+
+The Prince smiled with the air of one disposed to humour a wilful
+child.
+
+"Come!" he said.  "You must know very well that I cannot stand here
+and tell you the bare outline, much less the details of an important
+movement.  To-morrow, at any hour you choose, one from amongst us
+shall explain the whole matter--and the part to be borne in it by
+the Countess!"
+
+"And to-night?" Mr. Sabin asked.
+
+The Prince shrugged his shoulders and glanced at the clock.
+
+"To-night, my dear friend," he said, "all of us, I believe, go on
+to a ball at Carmarthen House.  It would grieve me also, I am sure,
+Duke, to seem inhospitable, but I am compelled to mention the fact
+that the hour for which the carriages have been ordered is already
+at hand."
+
+Mr. Sabin reflected for a few moments.
+
+"Did I understand you to say," he asked, "that the help to be given
+to you by my wife, Lucille, Duchess of Souspennier, entailed her
+remaining under this roof?"
+
+The Prince smiled seraphically.
+
+"It is unfortunate," he murmured, "since you have been so gallant
+as to follow her, but it is true!  You will understand this
+perfectly--to-morrow."
+
+"And why should I wait until to-morrow?" Mr. Sabin asked coolly.
+
+"I fear," the Prince said, "that it is a matter of necessity."
+
+Mr. Sabin glanced for a moment in turn at the faces of all the
+little company as though seeking to discover how far the attitude
+of his opponent met with their approval.  Lady Carey's thin lips
+were curved in a smile, and her eyes met his mockingly.  The
+others remained imperturbable.  Last of all he looked at Lucille.
+
+"It seems," he said, smiling towards her, "that I am called upon
+to pay a heavy entrance fee on my return amongst your friends.  But
+the Prince of Saxe Leinitzer forgets that he has shown me no
+authority, or given me no valid reason why I should tolerate such
+flagrant interference with my personal affairs."
+
+"To-morrow--to-morrow, my good sir!" the Prince interrupted.
+
+"No!  To-night!" Mr. Sabin answered sharply.  "Lucille, in the
+absence of any reasonable explanation, I challenge the right of the
+Prince of Saxe Leinitzer to rob me even for an hour of my dearest
+possession.  I appeal to you.  Come with me and remain with me
+until it has been proved, if ever it can be proved, that greater
+interests require our separation.  If there be blame I will take it.
+Will you trust yourself to me?"
+
+Lucille half rose, but Lady Carey's hand was heavy upon her
+shoulder.  As though by a careless movement General Dolinski and
+Raoul de Brouillac altered their positions slightly so as to come
+between the two.  The Duke of Dorset had left the room.  Then Mr.
+Sabin knew that they were all against him.
+
+"Lucille," he said, "have courage!  I wait for you."
+
+She looked towards him, and her face puzzled him.  For there
+flashed across the shoulders of these people a glance which was
+wholly out of harmony with his own state of barely subdued passion
+--a glance half tender, half humorous, full of subtle promise.
+Yet her words were a blow to him.
+
+"Victor, how is it possible?  Believe me, I should come if I could.
+To-morrow--very soon, it may be possible.  But now.  You hear what
+the Prince says.  I fear that he is right!"
+
+To Mr. Sabin the shock was an unexpected one.  He had never doubted
+but that she at least was on his side.  Her words found him unprepared,
+and a moment he showed his discomfiture.  His recovery however, was
+swift and amazing.  He bowed to Lucille, and by the time he raised
+his head even the reproach had gone from his eyes.
+
+"Dear lady," he said, "I will not venture to dispute your decision.
+Prince, will you appoint a time to-morrow when this matter shall be
+more fully explained to me?"
+
+The Prince's smile was sweetness itself, and his tone very gentle.
+But Mr. Sabin, who seldom yielded to any passionate impulse, kept
+his teeth set and his hand clenched, lest the blow he longed to
+deal should escape him.
+
+"At midday to-morrow I shall be pleased to receive you," he said.
+"The Countess, with her usual devotion and good sense, has, I trust,
+convinced you that our action is necessary!"
+
+"To-morrow at midday," Mr. Sabin said, "I will be here.  I have the
+honour to wish you all good-night."
+
+His farewell was comprehensive.  He did not even single out Lucille
+for a parting glance.  But down the broad stairs and across the
+hall of Dorset House he passed with weary steps, leaning heavily
+upon his stick.  It was a heavy blow which had fallen upon him.  As
+yet he scarcely realised it.
+
+His carriage was delayed for a few moments, and just as he was
+entering it a young woman, plainly dressed in black, came hurrying
+out and slipped a note into his hand.
+
+"Pardon, monsieur," she exclaimed, with a smile.  "I feared that I
+was too late."
+
+Mr. Sabin's fingers closed over the note, and he stepped blithely
+into the carriage.  But when he tore it open and saw the handwriting
+he permitted himself a little groan of disappointment.  It was not
+from her.  He read the few lines and crushed the sheet of paper in
+his hand.
+
+  "I am having supper at the Carlton with some friends on our way
+  to C. H.  I want to speak to you for a moment.  Be in the Palm
+  Court at 12.15, but do not recognise me until I come to you.  If
+  possible keep out of sight.  If you should have left my maid will
+  bring this on to your hotel.
+                                                           "M. C."
+
+Mr. Sabin leaned back in his carriage, and a frown of faint
+perplexity contracted his forehead.
+
+"If I were a younger man," he murmured to himself, "I might believe
+that this woman was really in earnest, as well as being Saxe
+Leinitzer's jackal.  We were friendly enough in Paris that year.
+She is unscrupulous enough, of course.  Always with some odd fancy
+for the grotesque or unlikely.  I wonder--"
+
+He pulled the check-string, and was driven to Camperdown House.  A
+great many people were coming and going.  Mr. Sabin found Helene's
+maid, and learnt that her mistress was just going to her room, and
+would be alone for a few minutes.  He scribbled a few words on the
+back of a card, and was at once taken up to her boudoir.
+
+"My dear UNCLE," Helene exclaimed, "you have arrived most
+opportunely.  We have just got rid of a few dinner people, and we
+are going on to Carmarthen House presently.  Take that easy-chair,
+please, and, light a cigarette.  Will you have a liqueur?  Wolfendon
+has some old brandy which every one seems to think wonderful."
+
+"You are very kind, Helene," Mr. Sabin said.  "I cannot refuse
+anything which you offer in so charming a manner.  But I shall not
+keep you more than a few minutes."
+
+"We need not leave for an hour," Helene said, "and I am dressed
+except for my jewels.  Tell me, have you seen Lucille?  I am so
+anxious to know."
+
+"I have seen Lucille this evening," Mr. Sabin answered.
+
+"At Dorset House!"
+
+"Yes."
+
+Helene sat down, smiling.
+
+"Do tell me all about it."
+
+"There is very little to tell," Mr. Sabin answered.
+
+"She is with you--she returns at least!"
+
+Mr. Sabin shook his head.
+
+"No," he answered.  "She remains at Dorset House."
+
+Helene was silent.  Mr. Sabin smoked pensively a moment or two, and
+sipped the liqueur which Camperdown's own servant had just brought
+him.
+
+"It is very hard, Helene," he said, "to make you altogether
+understand the situation, for there are certain phases of it which
+I cannot discuss with you at all.  I have made my first effort to
+regain Lucille, and it has failed.  It is not her fault.  I need
+not say that it is not mine.  But the struggle has commenced, and
+in the end I shall win."
+
+"Lucille herself--" Helene began hesitatingly.
+
+"Lucille is, I firmly believe, as anxious to return to me as I am
+anxious to have her," Mr. Sabin said.
+
+Helene threw up her hands.
+
+"It is bewildering," she exclaimed.
+
+"It must seem so to you," Mr. Sabin admitted.
+
+"I wish that Lucille were anywhere else," Helene said.  "The Dorset
+House set, you know, although they are very smart and very
+exclusive, have a somewhat peculiar reputation.  Lady Carey,
+although she is such a brilliant woman, says and does the most
+insolent, the most amazing things, and the Prince of Saxe Leinitzer
+goes everywhere in Europe by the name of the Royal libertine.  They
+are powerful enough almost to dominate society, and we poor people
+who abide by the conventions are absolutely nowhere beside them.
+They think that we are bourgeois because we have virtue, and
+prehistoric because we are not decadent."
+
+"The Duke--" Mr. Sabin remarked.
+
+"Oh, the Duke is quite different, of course," Helene admitted.
+"He is a fanatical Tory, very stupid, very blind to anything except
+his beloved Primrose League.  How he came to lend himself to the
+vagaries of such a set I cannot imagine."
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled.
+
+"C'est la femme toujours!" he remarked.  "His Grace is, I fear,
+henpecked, and the Duchess herself is the sport of cleverer people.
+And now, my dear niece, I see that the time is going.  I came to
+know if you could get me a card for the ball at Carmarthen House
+to-night."
+
+Helene laughed softly.
+
+"Very easily, my dear UNCLE.  Lady Carmarthen is Wolfendon's cousin,
+you know, and a very good friend of mine.  I have half a dozen blank
+cards here.  Shall I really see you there?"
+
+"I believe so," Mr. Sabin answered.
+
+"And Lucille?"
+
+"It is possible."
+
+"There is nothing I suppose which I can do in the way of
+intervention, or anything of that sort?"
+
+Mr. Sabin shook his head.
+
+"Lucille and I are the best of friends," he answered.  "Talk to her,
+if you will.  By the bye, is that twelve o'clock?  I must hurry.
+Doubtless we shall meet again at the ball."
+
+But Carmarthen House saw nothing of Mr. Sabin that night.
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+Mr. Sabin from his seat behind a gigantic palm watched her egress
+from the supper-room with a little group of friends.
+
+They came to a halt in the broad carpeted way only a few feet from
+him.  Lady Carey, in a wonderful green gown, her neck and bosom
+ablaze with jewels, seemed to be making her farewells.
+
+"I must go in and see the De Lausanacs," she exclaimed.  "They are
+in the blue room supping with the Portuguese Ambassador.  I shall
+be at Carmarthen House within half an hour--unless my headache
+becomes unbearable.  Au revoir, all of you.  Good-bye, Laura!"
+
+Her friends passed on towards the great swing doors.  Lady Carey
+retraced her steps slowly towards the supper-room, and made some
+languid inquiries of the head waiter as to a missing handkerchief.
+Then she came again slowly down the broad way and reached Mr. Sabin.
+He rose to his feet.
+
+"I thank you very much for your note," he said.  "You have something,
+I believe, to say to me."
+
+She stood before him for a moment in silence, as though not unwilling
+that he should appreciate the soft splendour of her toilette.  The
+jewels which encircled her neck were priceless and dazzling; the soft
+material of her gown, the most delicate shade of sea green, seemed
+to foam about her feet, a wonderful triumph of allegoric dressmaking.
+She saw that he was studying her, and she laughed a little uneasily,
+looking all the time into his eyes.
+
+"Shockingly overdressed, ain't I?" she said.  "We were going straight
+to Carmarthen House, you know.  Come and sit in this corner for a
+moment, and order me some coffee.  I suppose there isn't any less
+public place!"
+
+"I fear not," he answered.  "You will perhaps be unobserved behind
+this palm."
+
+She sank into a low chair, and he seated himself beside her.  She
+sighed contentedly.
+
+"Dear me!" she said.  "Do men like being run after like this?"
+
+Mr. Sabin raised his eyebrows.
+
+"I understood," he said, "that you had something to say to me of
+importance."
+
+She shot a quick look up at him.
+
+"Don't be horrid," she said in a low tone.  "Of course I wanted to
+see you.  I wanted to explain.  Give me one of your cigarettes."
+
+He laid his case silently before her.  She took one and lit it,
+watching him furtively all the time.  The man brought their coffee.
+The place was almost empty now, and some of the lights were turned
+down.
+
+"It is very kind of you," he said slowly, "to honour me by so much
+consideration, but if you have much to say perhaps it would be
+better if you permitted me to call upon you to-morrow.  I am afraid
+of depriving you of your ball--and your friends will be getting
+impatient."
+
+"Bother the ball--and my friends," she exclaimed, a certain
+strained note in her tone which puzzled him.  "I'm not obliged to
+go to the thing, and I don't want to.  I've invented a headache,
+and they won't even expect me.  They know my headaches."
+
+"In that case," Mr. Sabin said, "I am entirely at your service."
+
+She sighed, and looked up at him through a little cloud of tobacco
+smoke.
+
+"What a wonderful man you are," she said softly.  "You accept
+defeat with the grace of a victor.  I believe that you would triumph
+as easily with a shrug of the shoulders.  Haven't you any feeling at
+all?  Don't you know what it is like to feel?"
+
+He smiled.
+
+"We both come," he said, "of a historic race.  If ancestry is worth
+anything it should at least teach us to go about without pinning
+our hearts upon our sleeves."
+
+"But you," she murmured, "you have no heart."
+
+He looked down upon her then with still cold face and steady eyes.
+
+"Indeed," he said, "you are mistaken."
+
+She moved uneasily in her chair.  She was very pale, except for a
+faint spot of pink colour in her cheeks.
+
+"It is very hard to find, then," she said, speaking quickly, her
+bosom rising and falling, her eyes always seeking to hold his.
+"To-night you see what I have done--I have, sent away my friends
+--and my carriage.  They may know me here--you see what I have
+risked.  And I don't care.  You thought to-night that I was your
+enemy--and I am not.  I am not your enemy at all."
+
+Her hand fell as though by accident upon his, and remained there.
+Mr. Sabin was very nearly embarrassed.  He knew quite well that
+if she were not his enemy at that moment she would be very shortly.
+
+"Lucille," she continued, "will blame me too.  I cannot help it.
+I want to tell you that for the present your separation from her
+is a certain thing.  She acquiesces.  You heard her.  She is quite
+happy.  She is at the ball to-night, and she has friends there who
+will make it pleasant for her.  Won't you understand?"
+
+"No," Mr. Sabin answered.
+
+She beat the ground with her foot.
+
+"You must understand," she murmured.  "You are not like these fools
+of Englishmen who go to sleep when they are married, and wake in
+the divorce court.  For the present at least you have lost Lucille.
+You heard her choose.  She's at the ball to-night--and I have come
+here to be with you.  Won't you, please," she added, with a little
+nervous laugh, "show some gratitude?"
+
+The interruption which Mr. Sabin had prayed for came at last.  The
+musicians had left, and many of the lights had been turned down.
+An official came across to them.
+
+"I beg your pardon, sir," he said, addressing Mr. Sabin, "but we are
+closing now, unless you are a guest in the hotel."
+
+"I am staying here," Mr. Sabin answered, rising, "but the lady--"
+
+Lady Carey interrupted him.
+
+"I am staying here also," she said to the man.
+
+He bowed at once and withdrew.  She rose slowly to her feet and
+laid her fingers upon his arm.  He looked steadily away from her.
+
+"Fortunately," he said, "I have not yet dismissed my own carriage.
+Permit me."
+
+      *          *            *           *           *
+
+Mr. Sabin leaned heavily upon his stick as he slowly made his way
+along the corridor to his rooms.  Things were going ill with him
+indeed.  He was not used to the fear of an enemy, but the memory
+of Lady Carey's white cheeks and indrawn lips as she had entered
+his carriage chilled him.  Her one look, too, was a threat worse
+than any which her lips could have uttered.  He was getting old
+indeed, he thought, wearily, when disappointment weighed so heavily
+upon him.  And Lucille?  Had he any real fears of her?  He felt a
+little catch in his throat at the bare thought--in a moment's
+singular clearness of perception he realised that if Lucille were
+indeed lost the world was no longer a place for him.  So his feet
+fell wearily upon the thickly carpeted floor of the corridor, and
+his face was unusually drawn and haggard as he opened the door of
+his sitting-room.
+
+And then--a transformation, amazing, stupefying.  It was Lucille
+who was smiling a welcome upon him from the depths of his favourite
+easy-chair--Lucille sitting over his fire, a novel in her hand,
+and wearing a delightful rose-pink dressing-gown.  Some of her
+belongings were scattered about his room, giving it a delicate air
+of femininity.  The faint odour of her favourite and only perfume
+gave to her undoubted presence a wonderful sense of reality.
+
+She held out her hands to him, and the broad sleeves of her
+dressing-gown fell away from her white rounded arms.  Her eyes
+were wonderfully soft, the pink upon her cheeks was the blush of
+a girl.
+
+"Victor," she murmured, "do not look so stupefied.  Did you not
+believe that I would risk at least a little for you, who have
+risked so much for me?  Only come to me!  Make the most of me.
+All sorts of things are sure to happen directly I am found out."
+
+He took her into his arms.  It was one of the moments of his
+lifetime.
+
+"Tell me," he murmured, "how have you dared to do this?"
+
+She laughed.
+
+"You know the Prince and his set.  You know the way they bribe.
+Intrigues everywhere, new and old overlapping.  They have really
+some reason for keeping you and me apart, but as regards my other
+movements, I am free enough.  And they thought, Victor--don't be
+angry--but I let them think it was some one else.  And I stole
+away from the ball, and they think--never mind what they think.
+But you, Victor, are my intrigue, you, my love, my husband!"
+
+Then all the fatigue and all the weariness, died away from Mr.
+Sabin's face.  Once more the fire of youth burned in his heart.
+And Lucille laughed softly as her lips met his, and her head sank
+upon his shoulder.
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+Lady Carey suddenly dropped her partner's arm.  She had seen a
+man standing by himself with folded arms and moody face at the
+entrance to the ball-room.  She raised her lorgnettes.  His
+identity was unquestionable.
+
+"Will you excuse me for a moment, Captain Horton," she said to her
+escort.  "I want particularly to speak to Mr. Brott."
+
+Captain Horton bowed with the slight disappointment of a hungry
+man on his way to the supper-room.
+
+"Don't be long," he begged.  "The places are filling up."
+
+Lady Carey nodded and walked swiftly across to where Brott was
+standing.  He moved eagerly forward to meet her.
+
+"Not dancing, Mr. Brott?"
+
+He shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"This sort of thing isn't much in my way," he answered.  "I was
+rather hoping to see the Countess here.  I trust that she is not
+indisposed."
+
+She looked at him steadily.
+
+"Do you mean," she said, "that you do not know where she is?"
+
+"I?" he answered in amazement.  "How should I?  I have not seen her
+at all this evening.  I understood that she was to be here."
+
+Lady Carey hesitated.  The man was too honest to be able to lie like
+this, even in a good cause.  She stood quite still for a moment
+thinking.  Several of her dearest friends had already told her that
+she was looking tired and ill this evening.  At that moment she was
+positively haggard.
+
+"I have been down at Ranelagh this afternoon," she said slowly,
+"and dining out, so I have not seen Lucille.  She was complaining
+of a headache yesterday, but I quite thought that she was coming
+here.  Have you seen the Duchess?"
+
+He shook his head.
+
+"No.  There is such a crowd."
+
+Lady Carey glanced towards her escort and turned away.
+
+"I will try and find out what has become of her," she said.  "Don't
+go away yet."
+
+She rejoined her escort.
+
+"When we have found a table," she said, "I want you to keep my place
+for a few moments while I try and find some of my party."
+
+They passed into the supper-room, and appropriated a small table.
+Lady Carey left her partner, and made her way to the farther end of
+the apartment, where the Prince of Saxe Leinitzer was supping with
+half a dozen men and women.  She touched him on the shoulder.
+
+"I want to speak to you for a moment, Ferdinand," she whispered.
+
+He rose at once, and she drew him a little apart.
+
+"Brott is here," she said slowly.
+
+"Brott here!" he repeated.  "And Lucille?"
+
+"He is asking for her--expected to find her here.  He is downstairs
+now, looking the picture of misery."
+
+He looked at her inquiringly.  There was a curious steely light in
+her eyes, and she was showing her front teeth, which were a little
+prominent.
+
+"Do you think," he asked, "that she has deceived us?"
+
+"What else?  Where are the Dorsets?"
+
+"The Duchess is with the Earl of Condon, and some more people at
+the round table under the balcony."
+
+"Give me your arm," she whispered.  "We must go and ask her;"
+
+They crossed the room together.  Lady Carey sank into a vacant
+chair by the side of the Duchess and talked for a few minutes to
+the people whom she knew.  Then she turned and whispered in the
+Duchess's ear.
+
+"Where is Lucille?"
+
+The Duchess looked at her with a meaning smile.
+
+"How should I know? She left when we did."
+
+"Alone?"
+
+"Yes.  It was all understood, wasn't it?"
+
+Lady Carey laughed unpleasantly.
+
+"She has fooled us," she said.  "Brott is here alone.  Knows
+nothing of her."
+
+The Duchess was puzzled.
+
+"Well, I know nothing more than you do," she answered.  "Are you
+sure the man is telling the truth?"
+
+"Of course.  He is the image of despair."
+
+"I am sure she was in earnest," the Duchess said.  "When I asked
+her whether she should come on here she laughed a little nervously,
+and said perhaps or something of that sort."
+
+"The fool may have bungled it," Lady Carey said thoughtfully.  "I
+will go back to him.  There's that idiot of a partner of mine.  I
+must go and pretend to have some supper."
+
+Captain Horton found his vis-a-vis a somewhat unsatisfactory
+companion.  She drank several glasses of champagne, ate scarcely
+anything, and rushed him away before he had taken the edge off his
+appetite.  He brought her to the Duchess and went back in a huff
+to finish his supper alone.  Lady Carey went downstairs and
+discovered Mr. Brott, who had scarcely moved.
+
+"Have you seen anything of her?" she asked.
+
+He shook his head gloomily.
+
+"No! It is too late for her to come now, isn't it?"
+
+"Take me somewhere where we can talk," she said abruptly.  "One of
+those seats in the recess will do."
+
+He obeyed her, and they found a retired corner.  Lady Carey wasted
+no time in fencing.
+
+"I am Lucille's greatest friend, Mr. Brott, and her confidante,"
+she said.
+
+He nodded.
+
+"So I have understood."
+
+"She tells me everything."
+
+He glanced towards her a little uneasily.
+
+"That is comprehensive!" he remarked.
+
+"It is true," she answered.  "Lucille has told me a great deal about
+your friendship!  Come, there is no use in our mincing words.
+Lucille has been badly treated years ago, and she has a perfect
+right to seek any consolation she may find.  The old fashioned
+ideas, thank goodness, do not hold any longer amongst us.  It is
+not necessary to tie yourself for life to a man in order to procure
+a little diversion."
+
+"I will not pretend to misunderstand you, Lady Carey," he said
+gravely, "but I must decline to discuss the Countess of Radantz in
+connection with such matters."
+
+"Oh, come!" she declared impatiently; "remember that I am her
+friend.  Yours is quite the proper attitude, but with me it doesn't
+matter.  Now I am going to ask you a plain question.  Had you any
+engagement with Lucille to-night?"
+
+She watched him mercilessly.  He was colouring like a boy.  Lady
+Carey's thin lips curled.  She had no sympathy with such amateurish
+love-making.  Nevertheless, his embarrassment was a great relief to
+her.
+
+"She promised to be here," he answered stiffly.
+
+"Everything depends upon your being honest with me," she continued.
+"You will see from my question that I know.  Was there not something
+said about supper at your rooms before or after the dance?"
+
+"I cannot discuss this matter with you or any living person," he
+answered.  "If you know so much why ask me?"
+
+Lady Carey could have shaken the man, but she restrained herself.
+
+"It is sufficient!" she declared.  "What I cannot understand is why
+you are here--when Lucille is probably awaiting for you at your
+rooms."
+
+He started from his chair as though he had been shot.
+
+"What do you mean?" he exclaimed.  "She was to--"
+
+He stopped short.  Lady Carey shrugged her shoulders.
+
+"Oh, written you or something, I suppose!" she exclaimed.  "Trust
+an Englishman for bungling a love affair.  All I can tell you is
+that she left Dorset House in a hansom without the others, and said
+some thing about having supper with some friends."
+
+Brott sprang to his feet and took a quick step towards the exit.
+
+"It is not possible!" he exclaimed.
+
+She took his arm.  He almost dragged her along.
+
+"Well, we are going to see," she said coolly.  "Tell the man to
+call a hansom."
+
+They drove almost in silence through the Square to Pall Mall.
+Brott leaped out onto the pavement directly the cab pulled up.
+
+"I will wait here," Lady Carey said.  "I only want to know that
+Lucille is safe."
+
+He disappeared, and she sat forward in the cab drumming idly with
+her forefingers upon the apron.  In a few minutes he came back.
+His appearance was quite sufficient.  He was very pale.  The change
+in him was so ludicrous that she laughed.
+
+"Get in," she said.  "I am going round to Dorset House.  We must
+find out if we can what has become of her."
+
+He obeyed without comment.  At Dorset House Lady Carey summoned
+the Duchess's own maid.
+
+"Marie," she said, "you were attending upon the Countess Radantz
+to-night?"
+
+"Yes, my lady."
+
+"At what time did she leave?"
+
+"At about, eleven, my lady."
+
+"Alone?"
+
+"Yes, my lady."
+
+Lady Carey looked steadily at the girl.
+
+"Did she take anything with her?"
+
+The girl hesitated.  Lady Carey frowned.
+
+"It must be the truth, remember, Marie."
+
+"Certainly, my lady! She took her small dressing-case."
+
+Lady Carey set her teeth hard.  Then with a movement of her head
+she dismissed the maid.  She walked restlessly up and down the
+room.  Then she stopped short with a hard little laugh.
+
+"If I give way like this," she murmured, "I shall be positively
+hideous, and after all, if she was there it was not possible for
+him--"
+
+She stopped short, and suddenly tearing the handkerchief which she
+had been carrying into shreds threw the pieces upon the floor, and
+stamped upon them.  Then she laughed shortly, and turned towards
+the door.
+
+"Now I must go and get rid of that poor fool outside," she said.
+"What a bungler!"
+
+Brott was beside himself with impatience.
+
+"Lucille is here," she announced, stepping in beside him.  "She has
+a shocking headache and has gone to bed.  As a matter of fact, I
+believe that she was expecting to hear from you."
+
+"Impossible!" he answered shortly.  He was beginning to distrust
+this woman.
+
+"Never mind.  You can make it up with her to-morrow.  I was foolish
+to be anxious about her at all.  Are you coming in again?"
+
+They were at Carmarthen House.  He handed her out.
+
+"No, thanks! If you will allow me I will wish you good-night."
+
+She made her way into the ball-room, and found the Prince of Saxe
+Leinitzer, who was just leaving.
+
+"Do you know where Lucille is?" she asked.
+
+He looked up at her sharply.  "Where?"
+
+"At the Carlton Hotel--with him."
+
+He rose to his feet with slow but evil promptitude.  His face just
+then was very unlike the face of an angel.  Lady Carey laughed
+aloud.
+
+"Poor man," she said mockingly.  "It is always the same when you
+and Souspennier meet."
+
+He set his teeth.
+
+"This time," he muttered, "I hold the trumps."
+
+She pointed at the clock.  It was nearly four.  "She was there at
+eleven," she remarked drily.
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+"His Highness, the Prince of Saxe Leinitzer!"
+
+Duson stood away from the door with a low bow.  The Prince--in
+the buttonhole of whose frock-coat was a large bunch of Russian
+violets, passed across the threshold.  Mr. Sabin rose slowly
+from his chair.
+
+"I fear," the Prince said suavely, "that I am an early visitor.
+I can only throw myself upon your indulgence and plead the urgency
+of my mission."
+
+His arrival appeared to have interrupted a late breakfast of the
+Continental order.  The small table at which Lucille and Mr. Sabin
+were seated was covered with roses and several dishes of wonderful
+fruit.  A coffee equipage was before Lucille.  Mr. Sabin, dressed
+with his usual peculiar care and looking ten years younger, had
+just lit a cigarette.
+
+"We have been anticipating your visit, Prince," Mr. Sabin remarked,
+with grim courtesy.  "Can we offer you coffee or a liqueur?"
+
+"I thank you, no," the Prince answered.  "I seldom take anything
+before lunch.  Let me beg that you do not disturb yourselves.  With
+your permission I will take this easy-chair.  So! That is excellent.
+We can now talk undisturbed."
+
+Mr. Sabin bowed.
+
+"You will find me," he said, "an excellent listener."
+
+The Prince smiled in an amiable manner.  His eyes were fixed upon
+Lucille, who had drawn her chair a little away from the table.
+What other woman in the world who had passed her first youth could
+sit thus in the slanting sunlight and remain beautiful?
+
+"I will ask you to believe," the Prince said slowly, "how sincerely
+I regret this unavoidable interference in a domestic happiness so
+touching.  Nevertheless, I have come for the Countess.  It is
+necessary that she returns to Dorset House this morning."
+
+"You will oblige me," Mr. Sabin remarked, "by remembering that my
+wife is the Duchesse de Souspennier, and by so addressing her."
+
+The Prince spread out his hands--a deprecating gesture.
+
+"Alas!" he said, "for the present it is not possible.  Until the
+little affair upon which we are now engaged is finally disposed of
+it is necessary that Lucille should be known by the title which she
+bears in her own right, or by the name of her late husband, Mr.
+James B. Peterson."
+
+"That little affair," Mr. Sabin remarked, "is, I presume, the matter
+which you have come to explain to me."
+
+The Prince smiled and shook his head.
+
+"Explain!  My dear Duke, that is not possible.  It is not within
+your rights to ask questions or to require any explanation as to
+anything which Lucille is required to do by us.  You must remember
+that our claim upon her comes before yours.  It is a claim which
+she cannot evade or deny.  And in pursuance of it, Countess, I
+deeply regret having to tell you that your presence at Dorset House
+within the next hour is demanded."
+
+Lucille made no answer, but looked across the table at Mr. Sabin
+with a little grimace.
+
+"It is a comedy," she murmured.  "After all, it is a comedy!"
+
+Mr. Sabin fingered his cigarette thoughtfully.
+
+"I believe," he said, "that the Duchess realises her
+responsibilities in this matter.  I myself have no wish to deny
+them.  As ordinary members we are both pledged to absolute obedience.
+I therefore place no embargo upon the return of my wife to Dorset
+House.  But there are certain conditions, Prince, that considering
+the special circumstances of the case I feel impelled to propose."
+
+"I can recognise," the Prince said, "no conditions."
+
+"They are very harmless," Mr. Sabin continued calmly.  "The first is
+that in a friendly way, and of course under the inviolable law of
+secrecy, you explain to me for what part Lucille is cast in this
+little comedy; the next that I be allowed to see her at reasonable
+intervals, and finally that she is known by her rightful name as
+Duchesse de Souspennier."
+
+The forced urbanity which the Prince had assumed fell away from him
+without warning.  The tone of his reply was almost a sneer.
+
+"I repeat," he said, "that I can recognise no conditions."
+
+"It is perhaps," Mr. Sabin continued, "the wrong word to use.  We
+submit to your authority, but you and I are well aware that your
+discretionary powers are large.  I ask you to use them."
+
+"And I," the Prince said, "refuse.  Let me add that I intend to
+prevent any recurrence of your little adventure of last night.
+Lucille shall not see you again until her task is over.  And as for
+you, my dear Duke, I desire only your absence.  I do not wish to
+hurt your feelings, but your name has been associated in the past
+with too many failures to inspire us with any confidence in engaging
+you as an ally.  Countess, a carriage from Dorset House awaits you."
+
+But Lucille sat still, and Mr. Sabin rose slowly to his feet.
+
+"I thank you, Prince," he said, "for throwing away the mask.
+Fighting is always better without the buttons.  It is true that I
+have failed more than once, but it is also true that my failures
+have been more magnificent than your waddle across the plain of life.
+As for your present authority, I challenge you to your face that you
+are using it to gain your private ends.  What I have said to you I
+shall repeat to those whose place is above yours.  Lucille shall go
+to Dorset House, but I warn you that I hold my life a slight thing
+where her welfare is concerned.  Your hand is upon the lever of a
+great organization, I am only a unit in the world.  Yet I would have
+you remember that more than once, Prince, when you and I have met
+with the odds in your favour the victory has been mine.  Play the
+game fairly, and you have nothing to fear from me but the open
+opposition I have promised you.  Bring but the shadow of evil upon
+her, misuse your power but ever so slightly against her, and I warn
+you that I shall count the few years of life left to me a trifle
+--of less than no account--until you and I cry quits."
+
+The Prince smiled, a fat, good-natured smile, behind which the
+malice was indeed well hidden.
+
+"Come, come, my dear Souspennier," he declared.  "This is unworthy
+of you.  It is positively melodramatic.  It reminds me of the plays
+of my Fatherland, and of your own Adelphi Theatre.  We should be men
+of the world, you and I.  You must take your defeats with your
+victories.  I can assure you that the welfare of the Countess Lucille
+shall be my special care."
+
+Lucille for the first time spoke.  She rose from her chair and rested
+her hands affectionately upon her husband's shoulder.
+
+"Dear Victor," she said, "remember that we are in London, and, need
+I add, have confidence in me.  The Prince of Saxe Leinitzer and I
+understand one another, I believe.  If we do not it is not my fault.
+My presence here at this moment should prove to you how eagerly I
+shall look forward to the time when our separation is no longer
+necessary."
+
+She passed away into the inner room with a little farewell gesture
+tender and regretful.  Mr. Sabin resumed his seat.
+
+"I believe, Prince," he said, "that no good can come of any further
+conference between you and me.  We understand one another too well.
+Might I suggest therefore that you permit me to ring?"
+
+The Prince rose to his feet.
+
+"You are right," he said.  "The bandying of words between you and
+me is a waste of time.  We are both of us too old at the game.  But
+come, before I go I will do you a good turn.  I will prove that I
+am in a generous mood."
+
+Mr. Sabin shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"If anything in this world could inspire me with fear," he remarked,
+"it would be the generosity of the Prince of Saxe Leinitzer."
+
+The Prince sighed.
+
+"You always misunderstand me," he murmured.  "However, I will prove
+my words.  You spoke of an appeal."
+
+"Certainly," Mr. Sabin answered.  "I intend to impeach you for
+making use of the powers entrusted to you for your own private ends
+--in other words, for making an arbitrary misuse of your position."
+
+The Prince nodded.
+
+"It is very well put," he said.  "I shall await the result of your
+appeal in fear and trembling.  I confess that I am very much afraid.
+But, come now, I am going to be generous.  I am going to help you
+on a little.  Do you know to whom your appeal must be made?"
+
+"To the Grand Duke!" Mr. Sabin replied.
+
+The Prince shook his head.
+
+"Ah me!" he said, "how long indeed you have been absent from the
+world.  The Grand Duke is no longer the head of our little affair.
+Shall I tell you who has succeeded him?"
+
+"I can easily find out," Mr. Sabin answered.
+
+"Ah, but I warned you that I was in a generous mood," the Prince
+said, with a smile.  "I will save you the trouble.  With your
+permission I will whisper the name in your ear.  It is not one which
+we mention lightly."
+
+He stepped forward and bent his head for a moment.  Afterwards, as
+he drew back, the smile upon his lips broadened until he showed all
+his teeth.  It was a veritable triumph.  Mr. Sabin, taken wholly
+by surprise, had not been able to conceal his consternation.
+
+"It is not possible," he exclaimed hoarsely.  "He would not dare."
+
+But in his heart he knew that the Prince had spoken the truth.
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+"After all," said the Prince, looking up from the wine list, "why
+cannot I be satisfied with you? And why cannot you be satisfied
+with me?  It would save so much trouble."
+
+Lady Carey, who was slowly unwinding the white veil from her picture
+hat, shrugged her shoulders.
+
+"My dear man," she said, "you could not seriously expect me to fall
+in love with you."
+
+The Prince sipped his wine--a cabinet hock of rare vintage--and
+found it good.  He leaned over towards his companion.
+
+"Why not?" he asked.  "I wish that you would try--in earnest, I
+mean.  You are capable of great things, I believe--perhaps of the
+great passion itself."
+
+"Perhaps," she murmured derisively.
+
+"And yet," he continued, "there has always been in our love-making
+a touch of amateurishness.  It is an awkward word, but I do not
+know how better to explain myself."
+
+"I understand you perfectly," she answered.  "I can also, I think,
+explain it.  It is because I never cared a rap about you."
+
+The Prince did not appear altogether pleased.  He curled his fair
+moustache, and looked deprecatingly at his companion.  She had so
+much the air of a woman who has spoken the truth.
+
+"My dear Muriel!" he protested.
+
+She looked at him insolently.
+
+"My good man," she said, "whatever you do don't try and be
+sentimental.  You know quite well that I have never in my life
+pretended to care a rap about you--except to pass the time.  You
+are altogether too obvious.  Very young girls and very old women
+would rave about you.  You simply don't appeal to me.  Perhaps I
+know you too well.  What does it matter!"
+
+He sighed and examined a sauce critically.  They were lunching at
+Prince's alone, at a small table near the wall.
+
+"Your taste," he remarked a little spitefully, "would be considered
+a trifle strange.  Souspennier carries his years well, but he must
+be an old man."
+
+She sipped her wine thoughtfully.
+
+"Old or young," she said, "he is a man, and all my life I have
+loved men,--strong men.  To have him here opposite to me at this
+moment, mine, belonging to me, the slave of my will, I would give
+--well, I would give--a year of my life--my new tiara--anything!"
+
+"What a pity," he murmured, "that we cannot make an exchange, you
+and I, Lucille and he!"
+
+"Ah, Lucille!" she murmured.  "Well, she is beautiful.  That goes
+for much.  And she has the grand air.  But, heavens, how stupid!"
+
+"Stupid!" he repeated doubtfully.
+
+She drummed nervously upon the tablecloth with her fingers.
+
+"Oh, not stupid in the ordinary way, of course, but yet a fool.  I
+should like to see man or devil try and separate us if I belonged
+to him--until I was tired of him.  That would come, of course.  It
+comes always.  It is the hideous part of life."
+
+"You look always," he said, "a little too far forward.  It is a
+mistake.  After all, it is the present only which concerns us."
+
+"Admirable philosophy," she laughed scornfully, "but when one is
+bored to death in the present one must look forward or backward for
+consolation."
+
+He continued his lunch in silence for a while.
+
+"I am rebuked!" he said.
+
+There came a pause in the courses.  He looked at her critically.
+She was very handsomely dressed in a walking costume of dove-coloured
+grey.  The ostrich feathers which drooped from her large hat were
+almost priceless.  She had the undeniable air of being a person of
+breeding.  But she was paler even than usual, her hair,
+notwithstanding its careful arrangement, gave signs of being a
+little thin in front.  There were wrinkles at the corners of her
+eyes.  She knew these things, but she bore his inspection with
+indifference.
+
+"I wonder," he said reflectively, "what we men see in you.  You
+have plenty of admirers.  They say that Grefton got himself shot
+out at the front because you treated him badly.  Yet--you are not
+much to look at, are you?"
+
+She laughed at him.  Hers was never a pleasant laugh, but this time
+it was at least natural.
+
+"How discriminating," she declared.  "I am an ugly woman, and men
+of taste usually prefer ugly women.  Then I am always well dressed.
+I know how to wear my clothes.  And I have a shocking reputation.
+A really wicked woman, I once heard pious old Lady Surbiton call me!
+Dear old thing!  It did me no end of good.  Then I have the very
+great advantage of never caring for any one more than a few days
+together.  Men find that annoying."
+
+"You have violent fancies," he remarked, "and strange ones."
+
+"Perhaps," she admitted.  "They concern no one except myself."
+
+"This Souspennier craze, for instance!"
+
+She nodded.
+
+"Well, you can't say that I'm not honest.  It is positively my only
+virtue.  I adore the truth.  I loathe a lie.  That is one reason,
+I daresay, why I can only barely tolerate you.  You are a shocking
+--a gross liar."
+
+"Muriel!"
+
+"Oh, don't look at me like that," she exclaimed irritably.  "You
+must hear the truth sometimes.  And now, please remember that I
+came to lunch with you to hear about your visit this morning."
+
+The Prince gnawed his moustache, and the light in his eyes was not
+a pleasant thing to see.  This woman with her reckless life, her
+odd fascination, her brusque hatred of affectations, was a constant
+torment to him.  If only he could once get her thoroughly into his
+power.
+
+"My visit," he said, "was wholly successful.  It could not well be
+otherwise.  Lucille has returned to Dorset House.  Souspennier is
+confounded altogether by a little revelation which I ventured to
+make.  He spoke of an appeal.  I let him know with whom he would
+have to deal.  I left him nerveless and crushed.  He can do nothing
+save by open revolt.  And if he tries that--well, there will be
+no more of this wonderful Mr. Sabin."
+
+"Altogether a triumph to you," she remarked scornfully.  "Oh, I
+know the sort of thing.  But, after all, my dear Ferdinand, what of
+last night.  I hate the woman, but she played the game, and played
+it well.  We were fooled, both of us.  And to think that I--"
+
+She broke off with a short laugh.  The Prince looked at her
+curiously.
+
+"Perhaps," he said, "you had some idea of consoling the desolate
+husband?"
+
+"Perhaps I had," she answered coolly.  "It didn't come off, did it?
+Order me some coffee, and give me a cigarette, my friend.  I have
+something else to say to you."
+
+He obeyed her, and she leaned back in the high chair.
+
+"Listen to me," she said.  "I have nothing whatever to do with you
+and Lucille.  I suppose you will get your revenge on Souspennier
+through her.  It won't be like you if you don't try, and you ought
+to have the game pretty well in your own hands.  But I won't have
+Souspennier harmed.  You understand?"
+
+He shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"Souspennier," he said, "must take care.  If he oversteps the bounds
+he must pay the penalty."
+
+She leaned forward.  There was a look in her face which he knew
+very well.
+
+"You and I understand one another," she said coolly.  "If you want
+me for an enemy you can have me.  Very likely I shall tell you
+before long that you can do what you like with the man.  But until
+I do it will be very dangerous for you if harm comes to him."
+
+"It is no use," he answered doggedly.  "If he attacks he must be
+silenced."
+
+"If he attacks," she answered, "you must give me twenty-four hours
+clear notice before you move a hand against him.  Afterwards--well,
+we will discuss that."
+
+"You had better," he said, looking at her with an ugly gleam in his
+eyes, "persuade him to take you for a little tour on the Continent.
+It would be safer."
+
+"If he would come," she said coolly, "I would go to-morrow.  But he
+won't--just yet.  Never mind.  You have heard what I wanted to say.
+Now shall we go?  I am going to get some sleep this afternoon.
+Everybody tells me that I look like a ghost."
+
+"Why not come to Grosvenor Square with me?" he leaning a little
+across the table.  "Patoff shall make you some Russian tea, and
+afterwards you shall sleep as long as you like."
+
+"How idyllic!" she answered, with a faint sarcastic smile.  "It
+goes to my heart to decline so charming an invitation.  But, to
+tell you the truth, it would bore me excessively."
+
+He muttered something under his breath which startled the waiter at
+his elbow.  Then he followed her out of the room.  She paused for a
+few moments in the portico to finish buttoning her gloves.
+
+"Many thanks for my lunch," she said, nodding to him carelessly.
+"I'm sure I've been a delightful companion."
+
+"You have been a very tormenting one," he answered gloomily as he
+followed her out on to the pavement.
+
+"You should try Lucille," she suggested maliciously.
+
+He stood by her side while they waited for her carriage, and looked
+at her critically.  Her slim, elegant figure had never seemed more
+attractive to him.  Even the insolence of her tone and manner had
+an odd sort of fascination.  He tried to hold for a moment the
+fingers which grasped her skirt.
+
+"I think," he whispered, "that after you Lucille would be dull!"
+
+She laughed.
+
+"That is because Lucille has morals and a conscience," she said,
+"and I have neither.  But, dear me, how much more comfortably one
+gets on without them.  No, thank you, Prince.  My coupe is only
+built for one.  Remember."
+
+She flung him a careless nod from the window.  The Prince remained
+on the pavement until after the little brougham had driven away.
+Then he smiled softly to himself as he turned to follow it.
+
+"No!" he said.  "I think not!  I think that she will not get our
+good friend Souspennier.  We shall see!"
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+A barely furnished man's room, comfortable, austere, scholarly.
+The refuge of a busy man, to judge by the piles of books and papers
+which littered the large open writing-table.  There were despatch
+boxes turned upside down, a sea of parchment and foolscap.  In the
+midst of it all a man deep in thought.
+
+A visitor, entering with the freedom of an old acquaintance, laid
+his hand upon his shoulder and greeted him with an air of suppressed
+enthusiasm.
+
+"Planning the campaign, eh, Brott?  Or is that a handbook to Court
+etiquette?  You will need it within the week.  There are all sorts
+of rumours at the clubs."
+
+Brott shook himself free from his fit of apathetic reflection.  He
+would not have dared to tell his visitor where his thoughts had
+been for the last half hour.
+
+"Somehow," he said, "I do not think that little trip to Windsor
+will come just yet.  The King will never send for me unless he is
+compelled."
+
+His visitor, an ex-Cabinet Minister, a pronounced Radical and a
+lifelong friend of Brott's, shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"That time," he said, "is very close at hand.  He will send for
+Letheringham first, of course, and great pressure will be brought
+to bear upon him to form a ministry.  But without you he will be
+helpless.  He has not the confidence of the people."
+
+"Without me," Brott repeated slowly.  "You think then that I should
+not accept office with Letheringham?"
+
+His visitor regarded him steadily for a moment, open-mouthed,
+obviously taken aback.
+
+"Brott, are you in your right senses?" he asked incredulously.  "Do
+you know what you are saying?"
+
+Brott laughed a little nervously.
+
+"This is a great issue, Grahame," he said.  "I will confess that I
+am in an undecided state.  I am not sure that the country is in a
+sufficiently advanced state for our propaganda.  Is this really our
+opportunity, or is it only the shadow of what is to come thrown
+before?  If we show our hand too soon all is lost for this
+generation.  Don't look at me as though I were insane, Grahame.
+Remember that the country is only just free from a long era of
+Conservative rule."
+
+"The better our opportunity," Grahame answered vigorously.  "Two
+decades of puppet government are enervating, I admit, but they
+only pave the way more surely to the inevitable reaction.  What is
+the matter with you, Brott?  Are you ill?  This is the great moment
+of our lives.  You must speak at Manchester and Birmingham within
+this week.  Glasgow is already preparing for you.  Everything and
+everybody waits for your judgment.  Good God, man, it's magnificent!
+Where's your enthusiasm?  Within a month you must be Prime Minister,
+and we will show the world the way to a new era."
+
+Brott sat quite still.  His friend's words had stirred him for the
+moment.  Yet he seemed the victim of a curious indecision.  Grahame
+leaned over towards him.
+
+"Brott, old friend," he said, "you are not ill?"
+
+Brott shook his head.
+
+"I am perfectly well," he said.
+
+Grahame hesitated.
+
+"It is a delicate thing to mention," he said.  "Perhaps I shall
+pass even the bounds of our old comradeship.  But you have changed.
+Something is wrong with you.  What is it?"
+
+"There is nothing," Brott answered, looking up.  "It is your fancy.
+I am well enough."
+
+Grahame's face was dark with anxiety.
+
+"This is no idle curiosity of mine," he said.  "You know me better
+than that.  But the cause which is nearer my heart than life itself
+is at stake.  Brott, you are the people's man, their promised
+redeemer.  Think of them, the toilers, the oppressed, God's
+children, groaning under the iniquitous laws of generations of evil
+statesmanship.  It is the dawn of their new day, their faces are
+turned to you.  Man, can't you hear them crying?  You can't fail
+them.  You mustn't.  I don't know what is the matter with you,
+Brott, but away with it.  Free yourself, man."
+
+Brott sighed wearily, but already there was a change in him.  His
+face was hardening--the lines in his face deepened.  Grahame
+continued hastily--eagerly.
+
+"Public men," he said, "are always at the mercy of the halfpenny
+press, but you know, Brott, your appearance so often in Society
+lately has set men's tongues wagging.  There is no harm done, but
+it is time to stop them.  You are right to want to understand these
+people.  You must go down amongst them.  It has been slumming in
+Mayfair for you, I know.  But have done with it now.  It is these
+people we are going to fight.  Let it be open war.  Let them hear
+your programme at Glasgow.  We don't want another French Revolution,
+but it is going to be war against the drones, fierce, merciless war!
+You must break with them, Brott, once and for ever.  And the time
+is now."
+
+Brott held out his hand across the table.  No one but this one man
+could have read the struggle in his face.
+
+"You are right, Grahame.  I thank you.  I thank you as much for
+what you have left unsaid as for what you have said.  I was a fool
+to think of compromising.  Letheringham is a nerveless leader.  We
+should have gone pottering on for another seven years.  Thank God
+that you came when you did.  See here!"
+
+He tossed him over a letter.  Grahame's cheek paled as he read.
+
+"Already!" he murmured.
+
+Brott nodded.
+
+"Read it!"
+
+Grahame devoured every word.  His eyes lit up with excitement.
+
+"My prophecy exactly," he exclaimed, laying it down.  "It is as I
+said.  He cannot form the ministry without you.  His letter is
+abject.  He gives himself away.  It is an entreaty.  And your
+answer?"
+
+"Has not yet gone," Brott said.  "You shall write it yourself if
+you like.  I am thankful that you came when you did."
+
+"You were hesitating?" Grahame exclaimed.
+
+"I was."
+
+Grahame looked at him in wonder, and Brott faced him sturdily.
+
+"It seems like treason to you, Grahame!" he said.  "So it does to
+me now.  I want nothing in the future to come between us," he
+continued more slowly, "and I should like if I can to expunge the
+memory of this interview.  And so I am going to tell you the truth."
+Grahame held out his hand.
+
+"Don't!" he said.  "I can forget without."
+
+Brott shook his head.
+
+"No," he said.  "You had better understand everything.  The
+halfpenny press told the truth.  Yet only half the truth.  I have
+been to all these places, wasted my time, wasted their time, from
+a purely selfish reason--to be near the only woman I have ever
+cared for, the woman, Grahame!"
+
+"I knew it," Grahame murmured.  "I fought against the belief, I
+thought that I had stifled it.  But I knew it all the time."
+
+"If I have seemed lukewarm sometimes of late," Brott said, "there
+is the cause.  She is an aristocrat, and my politics are hateful
+to her.  She has told me so seriously, playfully, angrily.  She
+has let me feel it in a hundred ways.  She has drawn me into
+discussions and shown the utmost horror of my views.  I have cared
+for her all my life, and she knows it.  And I think, Grahame, that
+lately she has been trying constantly, persistently, to tone down
+my opinions.  She has let me understand that they are a bar between
+us.  And it is a horrible confession, Grahame, but I believe that
+I was wavering.  This invitation from Letheringham seemed such a
+wonderful opportunity for compromise."
+
+"This must never go out of the room," Grahame said hoarsely.  "It
+would ruin your popularity.  They would never trust you again."
+
+"I shall tell no one else," Brott said.
+
+"And it is over?" Grahame demanded eagerly.
+
+"It is over."
+
+     *           *           *           *           *
+
+The Duke of Dorset, who entertained for his party, gave a great
+dinner that night at Dorset House, and towards its close the
+Prince of Saxe Leinitzer, who was almost the only non-political
+guest, moved up to his host in response to an eager summons.  The
+Duke was perturbed.
+
+"You have heard the news, Saxe Leinitzer?"
+
+"I did not know of any news," the Prince answered.  "What is it?"
+
+"Brott has refused to join with Letheringham in forming a ministry.
+It is rumoured even that a coalition was proposed, and that Brott
+would have nothing to do with it."
+
+The Prince looked into his wineglass.
+
+"Ah!" he said.
+
+"This is disturbing news," the Duke continued.  "You do not seem to
+appreciate its significance."
+
+The Prince looked up again.
+
+"Perhaps not," he said.  "You shall explain to me."
+
+"Brott refuses to compromise," the Duke said.  "He stands for a
+ministry of his own selection.  Heaven only knows what mischief
+this may mean.  His doctrines are thoroughly revolutionary.  He is
+an iconoclast with a genius for destruction.  But he has the ear of
+the people.  He is to-day their Rienzi."
+
+The Prince nodded.
+
+"And Lucille?" he remarked.  "What does she say?"
+
+"I have not spoken to her," the Duke answered.  "The news has only
+just come."
+
+"We will speak to her," the Prince said, "together."
+
+Afterwards in the library there was a sort of informal meeting, and
+their opportunity came.
+
+"So you have failed, Countess," her host said, knitting his grey
+brows at her.
+
+She smilingly acknowledged defeat.
+
+"But I can assure you," she said, "that I was very near success.
+Only on Monday he had virtually made up his mind to abandon the
+extreme party and cast in his lot with Letheringham.  What has
+happened to change him I do not know."
+
+The Prince curled his fair moustache.
+
+"It is a pity," he said, "that he changed his mind.  For one thing
+is very certain.  The Duke and I are agreed upon it.  A Brott
+ministry must never be formed."
+
+She looked up quickly.
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+The Prince answered her without hesitation.
+
+"If one course fails," he said, "another must be adopted.  I regret
+having to make use of means which are somewhat clumsy and obvious.
+But our pronouncement on this one point is final.  Brott must not
+be allowed to form a ministry."
+
+She looked at him with something like horror in her soft full eyes.
+
+"What would you do?" she murmured.
+
+The Prince shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"Well," he said, "we are not quite medieval enough to adopt the
+only really sensible method and remove Mr. Brott permanently from
+the face of the earth.  We should stop a little short of that, but
+I can assure you that Mr. Brott's health for the next few months is
+a matter for grave uncertainty.  It is a pity for his sake that you
+failed."
+
+She bit her lip.
+
+"Do you know if he is still in London?" she asked.
+
+"He must be on the point of leaving for Scotland," the Duke answered.
+"If he once mounts the platform at Glasgow there will be no further
+chance of any compromise.  He will be committed irretrievably to
+his campaign of anarchy."
+
+"And to his own disaster," the Prince murmured.
+
+Lucille remained for a moment deep in thought.  Then she looked up.
+
+"If I can find him before he starts," she said hurriedly, "I will
+make one last effort."
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV
+
+He peered forward over his desk at the tall graceful figure whose
+entrance had been so noiseless, and whose footsteps had been so
+light that she stood almost within a few feet of him before he was
+even aware of her presence.  Then his surprise was so great that he
+could only gasp out her name.
+
+"You!  Lucille!"
+
+She smiled upon him delightfully.
+
+"Me!  Lucille!  Don't blame your servant.  I assured him that I was
+expected, so he allowed me to enter unannounced.  His astonishment
+was a delightful testimony to your reputation, by the bye.  He was
+evidently not used to these invasions."
+
+Brott had recovered himself by this time, and if any emotion still
+remained he was master of it.
+
+"You must forgive my surprise!" he said.  "You have of course
+something important to say to me.  Will you not loosen your cloak?"
+
+She unfastened the clasp and seated herself in his most comfortable
+chair.  The firelight flashed and glittered on the silver ornaments
+of her dress; her neck and arms, with their burden of jewels, gleamed
+like porcelain in the semi-darkness outside the halo of his student
+lamp.  And he saw that her dark hair hung low behind in graceful
+folds as he had once admired it.  He stood a little apart, and she
+noted his traveling clothes and the various signs of a journey
+about the room.
+
+"You may be glad to see me," she remarked, looking at him with a
+smile.  "You don't look it."
+
+"I am anxious to hear your news," he answered.  "I am convinced
+that you have something important to say to me."
+
+"Supposing," she answered, still looking at him steadily, "supposing
+I were to say that I had no object in coming here at all--that it
+was merely a whim?  What should you say then?"
+
+"I should take the liberty," he answered quietly, "of doubting the
+evidence of my senses."
+
+There was a moment's silence.  She felt his aloofness.  It awoke
+in her some of the enthusiasm with which this mission itself had
+failed to inspire her.  This man was measuring his strength against
+hers.
+
+"It was not altogether a whim," she said, her eyes falling from
+his, "and yet--now I am here--it does not seem easy to say what
+was in my mind."
+
+He glanced towards the clock.
+
+"I fear," he said, "that it may sound ungallant, but in case this
+somewhat mysterious mission of yours is of any importance I had
+better perhaps tell you that in twenty minutes I must leave to catch
+the Scotch mail."
+
+She rose at once to her feet, and swept her cloak haughtily around
+her.
+
+"I have made a mistake," she said.  "Be so good as to pardon my
+intrusion.  I shall not trouble you again."
+
+She was half-way across the room.  She was at the door, her hand
+was upon the handle.  He was white to the lips, his whole frame was
+shaking with the effort of intense repression.  He kept silence,
+till only a flutter of her cloak was to be seen in the doorway.
+And then the cry which he had tried so hard to stifle broke from
+his lips.
+
+"Lucille! Lucille!"
+
+She hesitated, and came back--looking at him, so he thought, with
+trembling lips and eyes soft with unshed tears.
+
+"I was a brute," he murmured.  "I ought to be grateful for this
+chance of seeing you once more, of saying good-bye to you."
+
+"Good-bye!" she repeated.
+
+"Yes," he said gravely.  "It must be good-bye.  I have a great work
+before me, and it will cut me off completely from all association
+with your world and your friends.  Something wider and deeper than
+an ocean will divide us.  Something so wide that our hands will
+never reach across."
+
+"You can talk about it very calmly," she said, without looking at
+him.
+
+"I have been disciplining myself," he answered.
+
+She rested her face upon her hand, and looked into the fire.
+
+"I suppose," she said, "this means that you have refused Mr.
+Letheringham's offer."
+
+"I have refused it," he answered.
+
+"I am sorry," she said simply.
+
+She rose from her chair with a sudden start, began to draw on her
+cloak, and then let it fall altogether from her shoulders.
+
+"Why do you do this?" she asked earnestly.  "Is it that you are so
+ambitious? You used not to be so--in the old days."
+
+He laughed bitterly.
+
+"You too, then," he said, "can remember.  Ambitious! Well, why not?
+To be Premier of England, to stand for the people, to carry through
+to its logical consummation a bloodless revolution, surely this is
+worth while.  Is there anything in the world better worth having
+than power?"
+
+"Yes," she answered, looking him full in the eyes.
+
+"What is it then? Let me know before it is too late."
+
+"Love!"
+
+He threw his arms about her.  For a moment she was powerless in his
+grasp.
+
+"So be it then," he cried fiercely.  "Give me the one, and I will
+deny the other.  Only no half measures!  I will drink to the bottom
+of the cup or not at all."
+
+She shook herself free from him, breathless, consumed with an anger
+to which she dared not give voice.  For a moment or two she was
+speechless.  Her bosom rose and fell, a bright streak of colour
+flared in her cheeks.  Brott stood away from her, white and stern.
+
+"You--are clumsy!" she said.  "You frighten me!"
+
+Her words carried no conviction.  He looked at her with a new
+suspicion.
+
+"You talk like a child," he answered roughly, "or else your whole
+conduct is a fraud.  For months I have been your slave.  I have
+abandoned my principles, given you my time, followed at your heels
+like a tame dog.  And for what?  You will not marry me, you will
+not commit yourself to anything.  You are a past mistress in the
+art of binding fools to your chariot wheels.  You know that I love
+you--that there breathes on this earth no other woman for me but
+you.  I have told you this in all save words a hundred times. And
+now--now it is my turn.  I have been played with long enough.  You
+are here unbidden--unexpected.  You can consider that door locked.
+Now tell me why you came."
+
+Lucille had recovered herself.  She stood before him, white but calm.
+
+"Because," she said, "I am a woman."
+
+"That means that you came without reason--on impulse?" he asked.
+
+"I came," she said, "because I heard that you were about to take a
+step which must separate us for ever."
+
+"And that," he asked, "disturbed you?"
+
+"Yes!"
+
+"Come, we are drawing nearer together," he said, a kindling light
+in his eyes.  "Now answer me this.  How much do you care if this
+eternal separation does come?  Here am I on the threshold of action.
+Unless I change my mind within ten minutes I must throw in my lot
+with those whom you and your Order loathe and despise.  There can
+be no half measures.  I must be their leader, or I must vanish from
+the face of the political world.  This I will do if you bid me.  But
+the price must be yourself--wholly, without reservation--yourself,
+body and soul."
+
+"You care--as much as that?" she murmured.
+
+"Ask me no questions, answer mine!" he cried fiercely.  "You shall
+stay with me here--or in five minutes I leave on my campaign."
+
+She laughed musically.
+
+"This is positively delicious," she exclaimed.  "I am being made
+love to in medieval fashion.  Other times other manners, sir!  Will
+you listen to reason?"
+
+"I will listen to nothing--save your answer, yes or no," he
+declared, drawing on his overcoat.
+
+She laid her hand upon his shoulder.
+
+"Reginald," she said, "you are like the whirlwind--and how can I
+answer you in five minutes!"
+
+"You can answer me in one," he declared fiercely.  "Will you pay my
+price if I do your bidding?  Yes or no!  The price is yourself.  Now!
+Yes or no?"
+
+She drew on her own cloak and fastened the clasp
+with shaking fingers.  Then she turned towards the
+door.
+
+"I wish you good-bye and good fortune, Reginald," she said.  "I
+daresay we may not meet again.  It will be better that we do not."
+
+"This then is your answer?" he cried.
+
+She looked around at him.  Was it his fancy, or were those tears
+in her eyes?  Or was she really so wonderful an actress?
+
+"Do you think," she said, "that if I had not cared I should have
+come here?"
+
+"Tell me that in plain words," he cried.  "It is all I ask."
+
+The door was suddenly opened.  Grahame stood upon the threshold.
+He looked beyond Lucille to Brott.
+
+"You must really forgive me," he said, "but there is barely time
+to catch the train, Brott.  I have a hansom waiting, and your
+luggage is on."
+
+Brott answered nothing.  Lucille held out her hands to him.
+
+"Yes or no?" he asked her in a low hoarse tone.
+
+"You must--give me time! I don't want to lose you.  I--"
+
+He caught up his coat.
+
+"Coming, Grahame," he said firmly.  "Countess, I must beg your
+pardon ten thousand times for this abrupt departure.  My servants
+will call your carriage."
+
+She leaned towards him, beautiful, anxious, alluring.
+
+"Reginald!"
+
+"Yes or no," he whispered in her ear.
+
+"Give me until to-morrow," she faltered.
+
+"Not one moment," he answered.  "Yes--now, this instant--or I go!"
+
+"Brott!  My dear man, we have not a second to lose."
+
+"You hear!" he muttered.  "Yes or no?"
+
+She trembled.
+
+"Give me until to-morrow," she begged.  "It is for your own sake.
+For your own safety."
+
+He turned on his heel!  His muttered speech was profane, but
+inarticulate.  He sprang into the hansom by Grahame's side.
+
+"Euston!" the latter cried through the trap-door.  "Double fare,
+cabby.  We must catch the Scotchman."
+
+Lucille came out a few moments later, and looked up and down the
+street as her brougham drove smartly up.  The hansom was fast
+disappearing in the distance.  She looked after it and sighed.
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI
+
+Lucille gave a little start of amazement as she realised that she
+was not alone in the brougham.  She reached out for the check-cord,
+but a strong hand held hers.
+
+"My dear Lucille," a familiar voice exclaimed, "why this alarm?  Is
+it your nerves or your eyesight which is failing you?"
+
+Her hand dropped.  She turned towards him.
+
+"It is you, then, Prince!" she said.  "But why are you here?  I do
+not understand."
+
+The Prince shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"It is so simple," he said.  "We are all very anxious indeed to
+hear the result of your interview with Brott--and apart from that,
+I personally have too few opportunities to act as your escort to
+let a chance go by.  I trust that my presence is not displeasing
+to you?"
+
+She laughed a little uneasily.
+
+"It is at any rate unnecessary," she answered.  "But since you are
+here I may as well make my confession.  I have failed."
+
+"It is incredible," the Prince murmured.
+
+"As you will--but it is true," she answered.  "I have done my very
+best, or rather my worst, and the result has been failure.  Mr.
+Brott has a great friend--a man named Grahame, whose influence
+prevailed against mine.  He has gone to Scotland."
+
+"That is serious news," the Prince said quietly.
+
+Lucille leaned back amongst the cushions.
+
+"After all," she declared, "we are all out of place in this country.
+There is no scope whatever for such schemes and intrigues as you
+and all the rest of them delight in.  In France and Russia, even in
+Austria, it is different.  The working of all great organisation
+there is underground--it is easy enough to meet plot by counterplot,
+to suborn, to deceive, to undermine.  But here all the great games
+of life seem to be played with the cards upon the table.  We are
+hopelessly out of place.  I cannot think, Prince, what ill chance
+led you to ever contemplate making your headquarters in London."
+
+The Prince stroked his long moustache.
+
+"That is all very well, Lucille," he said, "but you must remember
+that in England we have very large subscriptions to the Order.
+These people will not go on paying for nothing.  There was a meeting
+of the London branch a few months ago, and it was decided that
+unless some practical work was done in this country all English
+subscriptions should cease.  We had no alternative but to come over
+and attempt something.  Brott is of course the bete noire of our
+friends here.  He is distinctly the man to be struck at."
+
+"And what evil stroke of fortune," Lucille asked, "induced you to
+send for me?"
+
+"That is a very cruel speech, dear lady," the Prince murmured.
+
+"I hope," Lucille said, "that you have never for a moment imagined
+that I find any pleasure in what I am called upon to do."
+
+"Why not?  It must be interesting.  You can have had no sympathy
+with Brott--a hopeless plebeian, a very paragon of Anglo-Saxon
+stupidity?"
+
+Lucille laughed scornfully.
+
+"Reginald Brott is a man, at any rate, and an honest one," she
+answered.  "But I am too selfish to think much of him.  It is
+myself whom I pity.  I have a home, Prince, and a husband.  I
+want them both."
+
+"You amaze me," the Prince said slowly.  "Lucille, indeed, you
+amaze me.  You have been buried alive for three years.  Positively
+we believed that our summons would sound to you like a message from
+Heaven."
+
+Lucille was silent for a moment.  She rubbed the mist from the
+carriage window and looked out into the streets.
+
+"Well," she said, "I hope that you realise now how completely you
+have misunderstood me.  I was perfectly happy in America.  I have
+been perfectly miserable here.  I suppose that I have grown too old
+for intrigues and adventures."
+
+"Too old, Lucille," the Prince murmured, leaning a little towards
+her.  "Lucille, you are the most beautiful woman in London.  Many
+others may have told you so, but there is no one, Lucille, who is
+so devotedly, so hopelessly your slave as I."
+
+She drew her hand away, and sat back in her corner.  The man's hot
+breath fell upon her cheek, his eyes seemed almost phosphorescent
+in the darkness.  Lucille could scarcely keep the biting words from
+her tongue.
+
+"You do not answer me, Lucille.  You do not speak even a single
+kind word to me.  Come!  Surely we are old friends.  We should
+understand one another.  It is not a great deal that I ask from
+your kindness--not a great deal to you, but it is all the
+difference between happiness and misery for me."
+
+"This is a very worn-out game, Prince," Lucille said coldly.  "You
+have been making love to women in very much the same manner for
+twenty years, and I--well, to be frank, I am utterly weary of
+being made love to like a doll.  Laugh at me as you will, my
+husband is the only man who interests me in the slightest.  My
+failure to-day is almost welcome to me.  It has at least brought
+my work here to a close.  Come, Prince, if you want to earn my
+eternal gratitude, tell me now that I am a free woman."
+
+"You give me credit," the Prince said slowly, "for great generosity.
+If I let you go it seems to me that I shall lose you altogether.
+You will go to your husband.  He will take you away!"
+
+"Why not?" Lucille asked.  "I want to go.  I am tired of London.
+You cannot lose what you never possessed--what you never had the
+slightest chance of possessing."
+
+The Prince laughed softly--not a pleasant laugh, not even a
+mirthful one.
+
+"Dear lady," he said, "you speak not wisely.  For I am very much
+in earnest when I say that I love you, and until you are kinder
+to me I shall not let you go."
+
+"That is rather a dangerous threat, is it not?" Lucille asked.
+"You dare to tell me openly that you will abuse your position,
+that you will keep me bound a servant to the cause, because of
+this foolish fancy of yours?"
+
+The Prince smiled at her through the gloom--a white, set smile.
+
+"It is no foolish fancy, Lucille.  You will find that out before
+long.  You have been cold to me all your life.  Yet you would find
+me a better friend than enemy."
+
+"If I am to choose," she said steadily, "I shall choose the latter."
+
+"As you will," he answered.  "In time you will change your mind."
+
+The carriage had stopped.  The Prince alighted and held out his
+hand.  Lucille half rose, and then with her foot upon the step she
+paused and looked around.
+
+"Where are we?" she exclaimed.  "This is not Dorset House."
+
+"No, we are in Grosvenor Square," the Prince answered.  "I forgot
+to tell you that we have a meeting arranged for here this evening.
+Permit me."  But Lucille resumed her seat in the carriage.
+
+"It is your house, is it not?" she asked.
+
+"Yes.  My house assuredly."
+
+"Very well," Lucille said.  "I will come in when the Duchess of
+Dorset shows herself at the window or the front door--or Felix, or
+even De Brouillae."
+
+The Prince still held open the carriage door.
+
+"They will all be here," he assured her.  "We are a few minutes
+early."
+
+"Then I will drive round to Dorset House and fetch the Duchess.
+It is only a few yards."
+
+The Prince hesitated.  His cheeks were very white, and something
+like a scowl was blackening his heavy, insipid face.
+
+"Lucille," he said, "you are very foolish.  It is not much I ask of
+you, but that little I will have or I pledge my word to it that
+things shall go ill with you and your husband.  There is plain
+speech for you.  Do not be absurd.  Come within, and let us talk.
+What do you fear?  The house is full of servants, and the carriage
+can wait for you here."
+
+Lucille smiled at him--a maddening smile.
+
+"I am not a child," she said, "and such conversations as I am forced
+to hold with you will not be under your own roof.  Be so good as to
+tell the coachman to drive to Dorset House."
+
+The Prince turned on his heel with a furious oath.
+
+"He can drive you to Hell," he answered thickly.
+
+Lucille found the Duchess and Lady Carey together at Dorset House.
+She looked from one to the other.
+
+"I thought that there was a meeting to-night," she remarked.
+
+The Duchess shook her head.
+
+"Not to-night," she answered.  "It would not be possible.  General
+Dolinski is dining at Marlborough House, and De Broullae is in
+Paris.  Now tell us all about Mr. Brott."
+
+"He has gone to Scotland," Lucille answered.  "I have failed."
+
+Lady Carey looked up from the depths of the chair in which she was
+lounging.
+
+"And the prince?" she asked.  "He went to meet you!"
+
+"He also failed," Lucille answered.
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII
+
+Mr. SABIN drew a little breath, partly of satisfaction because he
+had discovered the place he sought, and partly of disgust at the
+neighbourhood in which he found himself.  Nevertheless, he descended
+three steps from the court into which he had been directed, and
+pushed open the swing door, behind which Emil Sachs announced his
+desire to supply the world with dinners at eightpence and vin
+ordinaire at fourpence the small bottle.
+
+A stout black-eyed woman looked up at his entrance from behind the
+counter.  The place was empty.
+
+"What does monsieur require she asked, peering forward through the
+gloom with some suspicion.  For the eightpenny dinners were the
+scorn of the neighbourhood, and strangers were rare in the wine
+shop of Emil Sachs."
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled.
+
+"One of your excellent omelettes, my good Annette," he answered,
+"if your hand has not lost its cunning!"
+
+She gave a little cry.
+
+"It is monsieur!" she exclaimed.  "After all these years it is
+monsieur!  Ah, you will pardon that I did not recognise you.  This
+place is a cellar.  Monsieur has not changed.  In the daylight one
+would know him anywhere."
+
+The woman talked fast, but even in that dim light Mr. Sabin knew
+quite well that she was shaking with fear.  He could see the corners
+of her mouth twitch.  Her black eyes rolled incessantly, but refused
+to meet his.  Mr. Sabin frowned.
+
+"You are not glad to see me, Annette!"
+
+She leaned over the counter.
+
+"For monsieur's own sake," she whispered, "go!"
+
+Mr. Sabin stood quite still for a short space of time.
+
+"Can I rest in there for a few minutes?" he asked, pointing to the
+door which led into the room beyond.
+
+The woman hesitated.  She looked up at the clock and down again.
+
+"Emil will return," she said, "at three.  Monsieur were best out of
+the neighbourhood before then.  For ten minutes it might be safe."
+
+Mr. Sabin passed forward.  The woman lifted the flap of the counter
+and followed him.  Within was a smaller room, far cleaner and better
+appointed than the general appearance of the place promised.  Mr.
+Sabin seated himself at one of the small tables.  The linen cloth,
+he noticed, was spotless, the cutlery and appointments polished and
+clean.
+
+"This, I presume," he remarked, "is not where you serve the
+eightpenny table d'hote?"
+
+The woman shrugged her shoulders.
+
+"But it would not be possible," she answered.  "We have no customers
+for that.  If one arrives we put together a few scraps.  But one must
+make a pretense.  Monsieur understands?"
+
+Mr. Sabin nodded.
+
+"I will take," he said, "a small glass of fin champagne."
+
+She vanished, and reappeared almost immediately with the brandy in
+a quaintly cut liqueur glass.  A glance at the clock as she passed
+seemed to have increased her anxiety.
+
+"If monsieur will drink his liqueur and depart," she prayed.  "Indeed,
+it will be for the best."
+
+Mr. Sabin set down his glass.  His steadfast gaze seemed to reduce
+Annette into a state of nervous panic.
+
+"Annette," he said, "they have placed me upon the list."
+
+"It is true, monsieur," she answered.  "Why do you come here?"
+
+"I wanted to know first for certain that they had ventured so far,"
+Mr. Sabin said.  "I believe that I am only the second person in
+this country who has been so much honoured."
+
+The woman drew nearer to him.
+
+"Monsieur," she said, "your only danger is to venture into such
+parts as these.  London is so safe, and the law is merciless.  They
+only watch.  They will attempt nothing.  Do not leave England.
+There is here no machinery of criminals.  Besides, the life of
+monsieur is insured."
+
+"Insured?" Mr. Sabin remarked quietly.  "That is good news.  And
+who pays the premium?"
+
+"A great lady, monsieur!  I know no more.  Monsieur must go indeed.
+He has found his way into the only place in London where he is not
+safe."
+
+Mr. Sabin rose.
+
+"You are expecting, perhaps," he said, "one of my friends from
+the--"
+
+She interrupted him.
+
+"It is true," she declared.  "He may be here at any instant.  The
+time is already up.  Oh, monsieur, indeed, indeed it would not do
+for him to find you."
+
+Mr. Sabin moved towards the door.
+
+"You are perhaps right," he said regretfully, "although I should
+much like to hear about this little matter of life insurance while
+I am here."
+
+"Indeed, monsieur," Annette declared, "I know nothing.  There is
+nothing which I can tell monsieur."
+
+Mr. Sabin suddenly leaned forward.  His gaze was compelling.  His
+tone was low but terrible.
+
+"Annette," he said, "obey me.  Send Emil here."
+
+The woman trembled, but she did not move.  Mr. Sabin lifted his
+forefinger and pointed slowly to the door.  The woman's lips parted,
+but she seemed to have lost the power of speech.
+
+"Send Emil here!" Mr. Sabin repeated slowly.
+
+Annette turned and left the room, groping her way to the door as
+though her eyesight had become uncertain.  Mr. Sabin lit a cigarette
+and looked for a moment carefully into the small liqueur glass out
+of which he had drunk.
+
+"That was unwise," he said softly to himself.  "Just such a blunder
+might have cost me everything."
+
+He held it up to the light and satisfied himself that no dregs
+remained.  Then he took from his pocket a tiny little revolver, and
+placing it on the table before him, covered it with his handkerchief.
+Almost immediately a door at the farther end of the room opened and
+closed.  A man in dark clothes, small, unnaturally pale, with
+deep-set eyes and nervous, twitching mouth, stood before him.
+Mr. Sabin smiled a welcome at him.
+
+"Good-morning, Emil Sachs," he said.  "I am glad that you have shown
+discretion.  Stand there in the light, please, and fold your arms.
+Thanks.  Do not think that I am afraid of you, but I like to talk
+comfortably."
+
+"I am at monsieur's service," the man said in a low tone.
+
+"Exactly.  Now, Emil, before starting to visit you I left a little
+note behind addressed to the chief of the police here--no, you
+need not start--to be sent to him only if my return were unduly
+delayed.  You can guess what that note contained.  It is not
+necessary for us to revert to--unpleasant subjects."
+
+The man moistened his dry lips.
+
+"It is not necessary," he repeated.  "Monsieur is as safe here--from
+me--as at his own hotel."
+
+"Excellent!" Mr. Sabin said.  "Now listen, Emil.  It has pleased me
+chiefly, as you know, for the sake of your wife, the good Annette,
+to be very merciful to you as regards the past.  But I do not
+propose to allow you to run a poison bureau for the advantage of the
+Prince of Saxe Leinitzer and his friends--more especially, perhaps,
+as I am at present upon his list of superfluous persons."
+
+The man trembled.
+
+"Monsieur," he said, "the Prince knows as much as you know, and he
+has not the mercy that one shows to a dog."
+
+"You will find," Mr. Sabin said, "that if you do not obey me, I
+myself can develop a similar disposition.  Now answer me this!  You
+have within the last few days supplied several people with that
+marvelous powder for the preparation of which you are so justly
+famed."
+
+"Several--no, monsieur!  Two only."
+
+"Their names?"
+
+The man trembled.
+
+"If they should know!"
+
+"They will not, Emil.  I will see to that."
+
+"The first I supplied to the order of the Prince."
+
+"Good!  And the second?"
+
+"To a lady whose name I do not know."
+
+Mr. Sabin raised his eyebrows.
+
+"Is not that," he remarked, "a little irregular?"
+
+"The lady wrote her request before me in the yellow crayon.  It was
+sufficient."
+
+"And you do not know her name, Emil?"
+
+"No, monsieur.  She was dark and tall, and closely veiled.  She was
+here but a few minutes since."
+
+"Dark and tall!" Mr. Sabin repeated to himself thoughtfully.  "Emil,
+you are telling me the truth?"
+
+"I do not dare to tell you anything else, monsieur," the man answered.
+
+Mr. Sabin did not continue his interrogations for a few moments.
+Suddenly he looked up.
+
+"Has that lady left the place yet, Emil?"
+
+"No, monsieur!"
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled.
+
+"Have you a back exit?" he asked.
+
+"None that the lady would know of," Emil answered.  "She must pass
+along the passage which borders this apartment, and enter the bar
+by a door from behind.  If monsieur desires it, it is impossible for
+her to leave unobserved."
+
+"That is excellent, Emil," Mr. Sabin said.  "Now there is one more
+question--quite a harmless one.  Annette spoke of my life being in
+some way insured."
+
+"It is true, monsieur," Emil admitted.  "A lady who also possessed
+the yellow crayon came here the day that--that monsieur incurred
+the displeasure of--of his friends.  She tried to bribe me to blow
+up my laboratory and leave the country, or that I should substitute
+a harmless powder for any required by the Prince.  I was obliged to
+refuse."
+
+"And then?"
+
+"Then she promised me a large sum if you were alive in six months,
+and made me at once a payment.
+
+"Dear me," Mr. Sabin said, "this is quite extraordinary."
+
+"I can tell monsieur the lady's name," Emil continued, "for she
+raised her veil, and everywhere the illustrated papers have been
+full of her picture.  It was the lady who was besieged in a little
+town of South Africa, and who carried despatches for the general,
+disguised as a man."
+
+"Lady Carey!" Mr. Sabin remarked quietly.
+
+"That was the lady's name," Emil agreed.
+
+Mr. Sabin was thoughtful for a few moments.  Then he looked up.
+
+"Emil Sachs," he said sternly, "you have given out at least one
+portion of your abominable concoction which is meant to end my days.
+Whether I shall escape it or not remains to be seen.  I am forced at
+the best to discharge my servant, and to live the life of a hunted
+man.  Now you have done enough mischief in the world.  To-morrow
+morning a messenger will place in your hands two hundred pounds.  A
+larger sum will await you at Baring's Bank in New York.  You will go
+there and buy a small restaurant in the business quarter.  This is
+your last chance, Emil.  I give it to you for the sake of Annette."
+
+"And I accept it, monsieur, with gratitude."
+
+"For the present "
+
+Mr. Sabin stopped short.  His quick ears had caught the swish of
+woman's gown passing along the passage outside.  Emil too had
+heard it.
+
+"It is the dark lady," he whispered, "who purchased from me the
+other powder.  See, I open gently this door.  Monsieur must both
+see and hear."
+
+The door at the end of the passage was opened.  A woman stepped out
+into the little bar and made her way towards the door.  Here she
+was met by a man entering.  Mr. Sabin held up his forefinger to stop
+the terrified exclamation which trembled on Emil's lips.  The woman
+was Lucille, the man the Prince.  It was Lucille who was speaking.
+
+"You have followed me, Prince.  It is intolerable."
+
+"Dear Lucille, it is for your own sake.  These are not fit parts
+for you to visit alone."
+
+"It is my own business," she answered coldly.
+
+The Prince appeared to be in a complaisant mood.
+
+"Come," he said, "the affair is not worth a quarrel.  I ask you no
+questions.  Only since we are here I propose that we test the
+cooking of the good Annette.  We will lunch together."
+
+"What, here?" she answered.  "Absurd."
+
+"By no means," he answered.  "As you doubtless know, the exterior
+of the place is entirely misleading.  These people are old servants
+of mine.  I can answer for the luncheon."
+
+"You can also eat it," came the prompt reply.  "I am returning to
+the carriage."
+
+"But--"
+
+Mr. Sabin emerged through the swing door.  "Your discretion, my
+dear Lucille," he said, smiling, "is excellent.  The place is
+indeed better than it seems, and Annette's cookery may be all that
+the Prince claims.  Yet I think I know better places for a luncheon
+party, and the ventilation is not of the best.  May I suggest that
+you come with me instead to the Milan?"
+
+"Victor!  You here?"
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled as he admitted the obvious fact.  The Prince's
+face was as black as night.
+
+"Believe me," Mr. Sabin said, turning to the Prince, "I sympathise
+entirely with your feelings at the present moment.  I myself have
+suffered in precisely the same manner.  The fact is, intrigue in
+this country is almost an impossibility.  At Paris, Vienna, Pesth,
+how different!  You raise your little finger, and the deed is done.
+Superfluous people--like myself--are removed like the hairs from
+your chin.  But here intrigue seems indeed to exist only within the
+pages of a shilling novel, or in a comic opera.  The gentleman with
+a helmet there, who regards us so benignly, will presently earn a
+shilling by calling me a hansom.  Yet in effect he does me a far
+greater service.  He stands for a multitude of cold Anglo-Saxon
+laws, adamant, incorruptible, inflexible--as certain as the laws
+of Nature herself.  I am quite aware that by this time I ought to
+be lying in a dark cellar with a gag in my mouth, or perhaps in
+the river with a dagger in my chest.  But here in England, no!"
+
+The Prince smiled--to all appearance a very genial smile.
+
+"You are right, my dear friend," he said, "yet what you say
+possesses, shall we call it, a somewhat antediluvian flavour.
+Intrigue is no longer a clumsy game of knife and string and bowl.
+It becomes to-day a game of finesse.  I can assure you that I have
+no desire to give a stage whistle and have you throttled at my feet.
+On the contrary, I beg you to use my carriage, which you will find
+in the street.  You will lunch at the Milan with Lucille, and I
+shall retire discomfited to eat alone at my club.  But the game is
+a long one, my dear friend.  The new methods take time."
+
+"This conversation," Mr. Sabin said to Lucille, "is interesting,
+but it is a little ungallant.  I think that we will resume it at
+some future occasion.  Shall we accept the Prince's offer, or shall
+we be truly democratic and take a hansom."
+
+Lucille passed her arm through his and laughed.
+
+"You are robbing the Prince of me," she declared.  "Let us leave
+him his carriage."
+
+She nodded her farewells to Saxe Leinitzer, who took leave of them
+with a low bow.  As they waited at the corner for a hansom Mr. Sabin
+glanced back.  The Prince had disappeared through the swing doors.
+
+"I want you to promise me one thing," Lucille said earnestly.
+
+"It is promised," Mr. Sabin answered.
+
+"You will not ask me the reason of my visit to this place?"
+
+"I have no curiosity," Mr. Sabin answered. "Come!"
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII
+
+Mr. Sabin, contrary to his usual custom, engaged a private room at
+the Milan.   Lucille was in the highest spirits.
+
+"If only this were a game instead of reality!" she said, flashing
+a brilliant smile at him across the table, "I should find it most
+fascinating.  You seem to come to me always when I want you most.
+And do you know, it is perfectly charming to be carried off by you
+in this manner."
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled at her, and there was a look in his eyes which
+shone there for no other woman.
+
+"It is in effect," he said, "keeping me young. Events seem to have
+enclosed us in a curious little cobweb.  All the time we are
+struggling between the rankest primitivism and the most delicate
+intrigue.  To-day is the triumph of primitivism."
+
+"Meaning that you, the medieval knight, have carried me off, the
+distressed maiden, on your shoulder."
+
+"Having confounded my enemy," he continued, smiling, "by an
+embarrassing situation, a little argument, and the distant view
+of a policeman's helmet."
+
+"This," she remarked, with a little satisfied sigh as she selected
+an ortolan, "is a very satisfactory place to be carried off to.
+And you," she added, leaning across the table and touching his
+fingers for a moment tenderly, "are a very delightful knight-errant."
+
+He raised the fingers to his lips--the waiter had left the room.
+She blushed, but yielded her hand readily enough.
+
+"Victor," she murmured, "you would spoil the most faithless woman
+on earth for all her lovers.  You make me very impatient."
+
+"Impatience, then," he declared, "must be the most infectious of
+fevers.  For I too am a terrible sufferer."
+
+"If only the Prince," she said, "would be reasonable."
+
+"I am afraid," Mr. Sabin answered, "that from him we have not much
+to hope for."
+
+"Yet," she continued, "I have fulfilled all the conditions.  Reginald
+Brott remains the enemy of our cause and Order.  Yet some say that
+his influence upon the people is lessened.  In any case, my work is
+over.  He began to mistrust me long ago.  To-day I believe that
+mistrust is the only feeling he has in connection with me.  I shall
+demand my release."
+
+"I am afraid," Mr. Sabin said, "that Saxe Leinitzer has other reasons
+for keeping you at Dorset House."
+
+She shrugged her shoulders.
+
+"He has been very persistent even before I left Vienna.  But he must
+know that it is hopeless.  I have never encouraged him."
+
+"I am sure of it," Mr. Sabin said.  "It is the incorrigible vanity
+of the man which will not be denied.  He has been taught to believe
+himself irresistible.  I have never doubted you for a single moment,
+Lucille.  I could not.  But you have been the slave of these people
+long enough.  As you say, your task is over.  Its failure was always
+certain.  Brott believes in his destiny, and it will be no slight
+thing which will keep him from following it.  They must give you
+back to me."
+
+"We will go back to America," she said.  "I have never been so
+happy as at Lenox."
+
+"Nor I," Mr. Sahin said softly.
+
+"Besides," she continued, "the times have changed since I joined
+the Society.  In Hungary you know how things were.  The Socialists
+were carrying all before them, a united solid body.  The aristocracy
+were forced to enter into some sort of combination against them.
+We saved Austria, I am not sure that we did not save Russia.  But
+England is different.  The aristocracy here are a strong resident
+class.  They have their House of Lords, they own the land, and will
+own it for many years to come, their position is unassailable.  It
+is the worst country in Europe for us to work in.  The very climate
+and the dispositions of the people are inimical to intrigue.  It is
+Muriel Carey who brought the Society here.  It was a mistake.  The
+country is in no need of it.  There is no scope for it."
+
+"If only one could get beyond Saxe Leinitzer," Mr. Sabin said.
+
+She shook her head.
+
+"Behind him," she said, "there is only the one to whom all reference
+is forbidden.  And there is no man in the world who would be less
+likely to listen to an appeal from you--or from me."
+
+"After all," Mr. Sabin said, "though Saxe Leinitzer is our enemy,
+I am not sure that he can do us any harm.  If he declines to
+release you--well, when the twelve months are up you are free
+whether he wishes it or not.  He has put me outside the pale.  But
+this is not, or never was, a vindictive Society.  They do not deal
+in assassinations.  In this country at least anything of the sort
+is rarely attempted.  If I were a young man with my life to live in
+the capitals of Europe I should be more or less a social outcast, I
+suppose.  But I am proof against that sort of thing."
+
+Lucille looked a little doubtful.
+
+"The Prince," she said, "is an intriguer of the old school.  I know
+that in Vienna he has more than once made use of more violent means
+than he would dare to do here.  And there is an underneath machinery
+very seldom used, I believe, and of which none of us who are ordinary
+members know anything at all, which gives him terrible powers."
+
+Mr. Sabin nodded grimly.
+
+"It was worked against me in America," he said, "but I got the best
+of it.  Here in England I do not believe that he would dare to use
+it.  If so, I think that before now it would have been aimed at
+Brott.  I have just read his Glasgow speech.  If he becomes
+Premier it will lead to something like a revolution."
+
+She sighed.
+
+"Brott is a clever man, and a strong man," she said.  "I am sorry
+for him, but I do not believe that he will never become Prime
+Minister of England."
+
+Mr. Sabin sipped his wine thoughtfully.
+
+"I believe," he said, "that intrigue is the resource of those who
+have lived their lives so quickly that they have found weariness.
+For these things to-day interest me very little.  I am only anxious
+to have you back again, Lucille, to find ourselves on our way to
+our old home."
+
+She laughed softly.
+
+"And I used to think," she said, "that after all I could only keep
+you a little time--that presently the voices from the outside world
+would come whispering in your ears, and you would steal back again
+to where the wheels of life were turning."
+
+"A man," he answered, "is not easily whispered out of Paradise."
+
+She laughed at him.
+
+"Ah, it is so easy," she said, "to know that your youth was spent
+at a court."
+
+"There is only one court," he answered, "where men learn to speak
+the truth."
+
+She leaned back in her chair.
+
+"Oh, you are incorrigible," she said softly.  "The one role in life
+in which I fancied you ill at ease you seem to fill to perfection."
+
+"And that?"
+
+"You are an adorable husband!"
+
+"I should like," he said, "a better opportunity to prove it!"
+
+"Let us hope," she murmured, "that our separation is nearly over.
+I shall appeal to the Prince to-night.  My remaining at Dorset
+House is no longer necessary."
+
+"I shall come," he said, "and demand you in person."
+
+She shook her head.
+
+"No!  They would not let you in, and it would make it more
+difficult.  Be patient a little longer."
+
+He came and sat by her side.  She leaned over to meet his embrace.
+
+"You make patience," he murmured, "a torture!"
+
+      *           *           *           *           *
+
+Mr. Sabin walked home to his rooms late in the afternoon, well
+content on the whole with his day.  He was in no manner prepared
+for the shock which greeted him on entering his sitting-room.
+Duson was leaning back in his most comfortable easy-chair.
+
+"Duson!" Mr. Sabin said sharply.  "What does this mean?"
+
+There was no answer.  Mr. Sabin moved quickly forward, and then
+stopped short.  He had seen dead men, and he knew the signs.  Duson
+was stone dead.
+
+Mr. Sabin's nerve answered to this demand upon it.  He checked his
+first impulse to ring the bell, and looked carefully on the table
+for some note or message from the dead man.  He found it almost at
+once--a large envelope in Duson's handwriting.  Mr. Sabin hastily
+broke the seal and read:
+
+  "Monsieur,--I kill myself because it is easiest and best.  The
+  poison was given me for you, but I have not the courage to become
+  a murderer, or afterwards to conceal my guilt.  Monsieur has been
+  a good master to me, and also Madame la Comtesse was always
+  indulgent and kind.  The mistake of my life has been the joining
+  the lower order of the Society.  The money which I have received
+  has been but a poor return for the anxiety and trouble which have
+  come upon me since Madame la Comtesse left America.  Now that I
+  seek shelter in the grave I am free to warn Monsieur that the
+  Prince of S. L. is his determined and merciless enemy, and that
+  he has already made an unlawful use of his position in the Society
+  for the sake of private vengeance.  If monsieur would make a
+  powerful friend he should seek the Lady Muriel Carey.
+
+  "Monsieur will be so good as to destroy this when read.  My will
+  is in my trunk.
+                                 "Your Grace's faithful servant,
+                                         "Jules Duson."
+
+Mr. Sabin read this letter carefully through to the end.  Then he
+put it into his pocket-book and quickly rang the bell.
+
+"You had better send for a doctor at once," he said to the waiter
+who appeared.  "My servant appears to have suffered from some sudden
+illness.  I am afraid that he is quite dead."
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX
+
+"You spoke, my dear Lucille," the  Duchess of Dorset said, "of your
+departure.  Is not that a little premature?"
+
+Lucille shrugged her beautiful shoulders, and leaned back in her
+corner of the couch with half-closed eyes.  The Duchess, who was
+very Anglo-Saxon, was an easy person to read, and Lucille was
+anxious to know her fate.
+
+"Why premature?" she asked.  "I was sent for to use my influence
+with Reginald Brott.  Well, I did my best, and I believe that for
+days it was just a chance whether I did not succeed.  However, as
+it happened, I failed.  One of his friends came and pulled him away
+just as he was wavering.  He has declared himself now once and for
+all.  After his speech at Glasgow he cannot draw back.  I was brought
+all the way from America, and I want to go back to my husband."
+
+The Duchess pursed her lips.
+
+"When one has the honour, my dear," she said, "of belonging to so
+wonderful an organisation as this we must not consider too closely
+the selfish claims of family.  I am sure that years ago I should
+have laughed at any one who had told me that I, Georgina Croxton,
+should ever belong to such a thing as a secret society, even though
+it had some connection with so harmless and excellent an
+organisation as the Primrose League."
+
+"It does seem remarkable," Lucille murmured.
+
+"But look what terrible times have come upon us," the Duchess
+continued, without heeding the interruption.  "When I was a girl a
+Radical was a person absolutely without consideration.  Now all our
+great cities are hot-beds of Socialism and--and anarchism.  The
+whole country seems banded together against the aristocracy and the
+landowners.  Combination amongst us became absolutely necessary in
+some shape or form.  When the Prince came and began to drop hints
+about the way the spread of Socialism had been checked in Hungary
+and Austria, and even Germany, I was interested from the first.
+And when he went further, and spoke of the Society, it was I who
+persuaded Dorset to join.  Dear man, he is very earnest, but very
+slow, and very averse to anything at all secretive.  I am sure the
+reflection that he is a member of a secret society, even although
+it is simply a linking together of the aristocracy of Europe in
+their own defence, has kept him awake for many a night."
+
+Lucille was a little bored.
+
+"The Society," she said, "is an admirable one enough, but just now
+I am beginning to feel it a little exacting.  I think that the
+Prince expects a good deal of one.  I shall certainly ask for my
+release to-night."
+
+The Duchess looked doubtful.
+
+"Release!" she repeated.  "Come, is that not rather an exaggerated
+expression?  I trust that your stay at Dorset House has not in any
+way suggested an imprisonment."
+
+"On the contrary," Lucille answered; "you and the Duke have been
+most kind.  But you must remember that I have home of my own--and
+a husband of my own."
+
+"I have no doubt," the Duchess said, "that you will be able to
+return to them some day.  But you must not be impatient.  I do not
+think that the Prince has given up all hopes of Reginald Brott yet."
+
+Lucille was silent.  So her emancipation was to be postponed.  After
+all, it was what she had feared.  She sat watching idly the Duchess's
+knitting needles.  Lady Carey came sweeping in, wonderful in a black
+velvet gown and a display of jewels almost barbaric.
+
+"On my way to the opera," she announced.  "The Maddersons sent me
+their box.  Will any of you good people come?  What do you say,
+Lucille?"
+
+Lucille shook her head.
+
+"My toilette is deficient," she said; "and besides, I am staying
+at home to see the Prince.  We expect him this evening."
+
+"You'll probably be disappointed then," Lady Carey remarked, "for
+he's going to join us at the opera.  Run and change your gown.
+I'll wait."
+
+"Are you sure that the Prince will be there?" Lucille asked.
+
+"Certain."
+
+"Then I will come," she said, "if the Duchess will excuse me."
+
+The Duchess and Lady Carey were left alone for a few minutes.
+The former put down her knitting.
+
+"Why do we keep that woman here," she asked, "now that Brott has
+broken away from her altogether?"
+
+Lady Carey laughed meaningly.
+
+"Better ask the Prince," she remarked.
+
+The Duchess frowned.
+
+"My dear Muriel," she said, "I think that you are wrong to make such
+insinuations.  I am sure that the Prince is too much devoted to our
+cause to allow any personal considerations to intervene."
+
+Lady Carey yawned.
+
+"Rats!" she exclaimed.
+
+The Duchess took up her knitting, and went on with it without remark.
+Lady Carey burst out laughing.
+
+"Don't look so shocked," she exclaimed.  "It's funny.  I can't help
+being a bit slangy.  You do take everything so seriously.  Of course
+you can see that the Prince is waiting to make a fool of himself
+over Lucille.  He has been trying more or less all his life."
+
+"He may admire her," the Duchess said.  "I am sure that he would
+not allow that to influence him in his present position.  By the
+bye, she is anxious to leave us now that the Brott affair is over.
+Do you think that the Prince will agree?"
+
+Lady Carey's face hardened.
+
+"I am sure that he will not," she said coolly.  "There are reasons
+why she may not at present be allowed to rejoin her husband."
+
+The Duchess used her needles briskly.
+
+"For my part," she said, "I can see no object in keeping her here
+any longer.  Mr. Brott has shown himself quite capable of keeping
+her at arm's length.  I cannot see what further use she is."
+
+Lady Carey heard the flutter of skirts outside and rose.
+
+"There are wheels within wheels," she remarked.  "My dear Lucille,
+what a charming toilette.  We shall have the lady journalists
+besieging us in our box.  Paquin, of course.  Good-night, Duchess.
+Glad to see you're getting on with the socks, or stockings, do you
+call them?"
+
+Insolent aristocratic, now and then attractive in some strange
+suggestive way, Lady Carey sat in front of the box and exchanged
+greetings with her friends.  Presently the Prince came in and took
+the chair between the two women.  Lady Carey greeted him with a nod.
+
+"Here's Lucille dying to return to her lawful husband," she remarked.
+"Odd thing, isn't it?  Most of the married women I ever knew are
+dying to get away from theirs.  You can make her happy or miserable
+in a few moments."
+
+The Prince leaned over between them, but he looked only at Lucille.
+
+"I wish that I could," he murmured.  "I wish that that were within
+my power."
+
+"It is," she answered coolly.  "Muriel is quite right.  I am most
+anxious to return to my husband."
+
+The Prince said nothing.  Lady Carey, glancing towards him at that
+moment, was surprised at certain signs of disquietude in his face
+which startled her.
+
+"What is the matter with you?" she asked almost roughly.
+
+"Matter with me?  Nothing," he answered.  "Why this unaccustomed
+solicitude?"
+
+Lady Carey looked into his face fiercely.  He was pale, and there
+was a strained look about his eyes.  He seemed, too, to be listening.
+From outside in the street came faintly to their ears the cry of a
+newsboy.
+
+"Get me an evening paper," she whispered in his ear.
+
+He got up and left the box.  Lucille was watching the people below
+and had not appreciated the significance of what had been passing
+between the two.  Lady Carey leaned back in the box with half-closed
+eyes.  Her fingers were clenched nervously together, her bosom was
+rising and falling quickly.  If he had dared to defy her!  What was
+it the newsboys were calling?  What a jargon!  Why did not Saxe
+Leinitzer return?  Perhaps he was afraid!  Her heart stood still
+for a moment, and a little half-stifled cry broke from her lips.
+Lucille looked around quickly.
+
+"What is the matter, Muriel?" she asked.  "Are you faint?"
+
+"Faint, no," Lady Carey answered roughly.  "I'm quite well.  Don't
+take any notice of me.  Do you hear?  Don't look at me."
+
+Lucille obeyed.  Lady Carey sat quite still with her hand pressed
+to her side.  It was a stifling pain.  She was sure that she had
+heard at last.  "Sudden death of a visitor at the Carlton Hotel."
+The place was beginning to go round.
+
+Saxe Leinitzer returned.  His face to her seemed positively ghastly.
+He carried an evening paper in his hand.  She snatched it away from
+him.  It was there before her in bold, black letters:
+
+"Sudden death in the Carlton Hotel."
+
+Her eyes, dim a moment ago, suddenly blazed fire upon him.
+
+"It shall be a life for a life," she whispered.  "If you have killed
+him you shall die."
+
+Lucille looked at them bewildered.  And just then came a sharp tap
+at the box door.  No one answered it, but the door was softly opened.
+Mr. Sabin stood upon the threshold.
+
+"Pray, don't let me disturb you," he said.  "I was unable to refrain
+from paying you a brief visit.  Why, Prince, Lady Carey!  I can
+assure you that I am no ghost."
+
+He glanced from one to the other with a delicate smile of mockery
+parting his thin lips.  For upon the Prince's forehead the
+perspiration stood out like beads, and he shrank away from Mr.
+Sabin as from some unholy thing.  Lady Carey had fallen back across
+her chair.  Her hand was still pressed to her side, and her face
+was very pale.  A nervous little laugh broke from her lips.
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX
+
+Mr. Sabin found a fourth chair, and calmly seated himself by
+Lucille's side.  But his eyes were fixed upon Lady Carey.  She
+was slowly recovering herself, but Mr. Sabin, who had never
+properly understood her attitude towards him, was puzzled at the
+air of intense relief which almost shone in her face.
+
+"You seem--all of you," he remarked suavely, "to have found the
+music a little exciting.  Wagner certainly knew how to find his
+way to the emotions.  Or perhaps I interrupted an interesting
+discussion?"
+
+Lucille smiled gently upon him.
+
+"These two," she said, looking from the Prince to Lady Carey, "seem
+to have been afflicted with a sudden nervous excitement, and yet I do
+not think that they are, either of them, very susceptible to music."
+
+Lady Carey leaned forward, and looked at him from behind the large
+fan of white feathers which she was lazily fluttering before her face.
+
+"Your entrance," she murmured, "was most opportune, besides being
+very welcome.  The Prince and I were literally--on the point of
+flying at one another's throats."
+
+Mr. Sabin glanced at his neighbour and smiled.
+
+"You are certainly a little out of sorts, Saxe Leinitzer," he
+remarked.  "You look pale, and your hands are not quite steady.
+Nerves, I suppose.  You should see Dr. Carson in Brook Street."
+
+The Prince shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"My health," he said, "was never better.  It is true that your
+coming was somewhat of a surprise," he added, looking steadily at
+Mr. Sabin.  "I understood that you had gone for a short journey,
+and I was not expecting to see you back again so soon."
+
+"Duson," Mr. Sabin said, "has taken that short journey instead.
+It was rather a liberty, but he left a letter for me fully
+explaining his motives.  I cannot blame him."
+
+The Prince stroked his moustache.
+
+"Ah!" he remarked.  "That is a pity.  You may, however, find it
+politic, even necessary, to join him very shortly."
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled grimly.
+
+"I shall go when I am ready," he said, "not before!"
+
+Lucille looked from one to the other with protesting eyebrows.
+
+"Come," she said, "it is very impolite of you to talk in riddles
+before my face.  I have been flattering myself, Victor, that you
+were here to see me.  Do not wound my vanity."
+
+He whispered something in her ear, and she laughed softly back at
+him.  The Prince, with the evening paper in his hand, escaped from
+the box, and found a retired spot where he could read the little
+paragraph at his leisure.  Lady Carey pretended to be absorbed by
+the music.
+
+"Has anything happened, Victor?" Lucille whispered.
+
+He hesitated.
+
+"Well, in a sense, yes," he admitted.  "I appear to have become
+unpopular with our friend, the Prince.  Duson, who has always been
+a spy upon my movements, was entrusted with a little sleeping
+draught for me, which he preferred to take himself.  That is all."
+
+"Duson is--"
+
+He nodded.
+
+"He is dead!"
+
+Lucille went very pale.
+
+"This is horrible!" she murmured
+
+"The Prince is a little annoyed, naturally," Mr. Sabin said.  "It
+is vexing to have your plans upset in such a manner."
+
+She shuddered.
+
+"He is hateful!  Victor, I fear that he does not mean to let me
+leave Dorset House just yet.  I am almost inclined to become, like
+you, an outcast.  Who knows--we might go free.  Bloodshed is always
+avoided as much as possible, and I do not see how else they could
+strike at me.  Social ostracism is their chief weapon.  But in
+America that could not hurt us."
+
+He shook his head.
+
+"Not yet," he said.  "I am sure that Saxe Leinitzer is not playing
+the game.  But he is too well served here to make defiance wise."
+
+"You run the risk yourself," she protested.
+
+He smiled.
+
+"It is a different matter.  By the bye, we are overheard."
+
+Lady Carey had forgotten to listen any more to the music.  She was
+watching them both, a steely light in her eyes, her fingers
+nervously entwined.  The Prince was still absent.
+
+"Pray do not consider me," she begged.  "So far as I am concerned,
+your conversation is of no possible interest.  But I think you had
+better remember that the Prince is in the corridor just outside."
+
+"We are much obliged to you," Mr. Sabin said.  "The Prince may hear
+every word I have to say about him.  But all the same, I thank you
+for your warning."
+
+"I fear that we are very unsociable, Muriel," Lucille said, "and,
+after all, I should never have been here but for you."
+
+Lady Carey turned her left shoulder upon them.
+
+"I beg," she said, "that you will leave me alone with the music.
+I prefer it."
+
+The Prince suddenly stood upon the threshold.  His hand rested
+lightly upon the arm of another man.
+
+"Come in, Brott," he said.  "The women will be charmed to see you.
+And I don't suppose they've read your speeches.  Countess, here is
+the man who counts all equal under the sun, who decries class, and
+recognises no social distinctions.  Brott was born to lead a
+revolution.  He is our natural enemy.  Let us all try to convert him."
+
+Brott was pale, and deep new lines were furrowed on his face.
+Nevertheless he smiled faintly as he bowed over Lucille's fingers.
+
+"My introduction," he remarked, "is scarcely reassuring.  Yet here
+at least, if anywhere in the world, we should all meet upon equal
+ground.  Music is a universal leveler."
+
+"And we haven't a chance," Lady Carey remarked with uplifted
+eyebrows, "of listening to a bar of it."
+
+Lucille welcomed the newcomer coldly.  Nevertheless, he manoeuvred
+himself into the place by her side.  She took up her fan and
+commenced swinging it thoughtfully.
+
+"You are surprised to see me here?" he murmured.
+
+"Yes!" she admitted.
+
+He looked wearily away from the stage up into her face.
+
+"And I too," he said.  "I am surprised to find myself here!"
+
+"I pictured you," she remarked, "as immersed in affairs.  Did I
+not hear something of a Radical ministry with you for Premier?"
+
+"It has been spoken of," he admitted.
+
+"Then I really cannot see," she said, "what you are doing here."
+
+"Why not?" he asked doggedly.
+
+She shrugged her shoulders.
+
+"In the first place," she said, "you ought to be rushing about
+amongst your supporters, keeping them up to the mark, and all that
+sort of thing.  And in the second--"
+
+"Well?"
+
+"Are we not the very people against whom you have declared war?"
+
+"I have declared war against no people," he answered.  "It is
+systems and classes, abuses, injustice against which I have been
+forced to speak.  I would not deprive your Order of a single
+privilege to which they are justly entitled.  But you must remember
+that I am a people's man.  Their cause is mine.  They look to me as
+their mouthpiece."
+
+Lucille shrugged her shoulders.
+
+"You cannot evade the point," she said.  "If you are the, what do
+you call it, the mouthpiece of the people, I do not see how you can
+be anything else than the enemy of the aristocracy."
+
+"The aristocracy?  Who are they?" he asked.  "I am the enemy of all
+those who, because they possess an ancient name and inherited wealth,
+consider themselves the God-appointed bullies of the poor, dealing
+them out meagre charities, lordly patronage, an unspoken but bitter
+contempt.  But the aristocracy of the earth are not of such as these.
+Your class are furnishing the world with advanced thinkers every year,
+every month!  Inherited prejudices can never survive the next few
+generations.  The fusion of classes must come."
+
+She shook her head.
+
+"You are sanguine, my friend," she said.  "Many generations have
+come and gone since the wonderful pages of history were opened to
+us.  And during all these years how much nearer have the serf and
+the aristocrat come together?  Nay, have they not rather drifted
+apart? ... But listen!  This is the great chorus.  We must not
+miss it."
+
+"So the Prince has brought back the wanderer," Lady Carey whispered
+to Mr. Sabin behind her fan.  "Hasn't he rather the air of a sheep
+who has strayed from the fold?"
+
+Mr. Sabin raised the horn eyeglass, which he so seldom used, and
+contemplated Brott steadily.
+
+"He reminds me more than ever," he remarked, "of Rienzi.  He is
+like a man torn asunder by great causes.  They say that his speech
+at Glasgow was the triumph of a born orator."
+
+Lady Carey shrugged her shoulders.
+
+"It was practically the preaching a revolution to the people," she
+said.  "A few more such, and we might have the red flag waving.  He
+left Glasgow in a ferment.  If he really comes into power, what are
+we to expect?"
+
+"To the onlookers," Mr. Sabin remarked, "a revolution in this
+country would possess many interesting features.  The common people
+lack the ferocity of our own rabble, but they are even more
+determined.  I may yet live to see an English Duke earning an honest
+living in the States."
+
+"It depends very much upon Brott," Lady Carey said.  "For his own
+sake it is a pity that he is in love with Lucille."
+
+Mr. Sabin agreed with her blandly.
+
+"It is," he affirmed, "a most regrettable incident."
+
+She leaned a little towards him.  The box was not a large one, and
+their chairs already touched.
+
+"Are you a jealous husband?" she asked.
+
+"Horribly," he answered.
+
+"Your devotion to Lucille, or rather the singleness of your devotion
+to Lucille," she remarked, "is positively the most gauche thing about
+you.  It is--absolutely callow!"
+
+He laughed gently.
+
+"Did I not always tell you," he said, "that when I did marry I
+should make an excellent husband?"
+
+"You are at least," she answered sharply, "a very complaisant one."
+
+The Prince leaned forward from the shadows of the box.
+
+"I invite you all," he said, "to supper with me.  It is something
+of an occasion, this!  For I do not think that we shall all meet
+again just as we are now for a very long time."
+
+"Your invitation," Mr. Sabin remarked, "is most agreeable.  But
+your suggestion is, to say the least of it, nebulous.  I do not see
+what is to prevent your all having supper with me to-morrow evening."
+
+Lady Carey laughed as she rose, and stretched out her hand for her
+cloak.
+
+"To-morrow evening," she said, "is a long way off.  Let us make
+sure of to-night--before the Prince changes his mind."
+
+Mr. Sabin bowed low.
+
+"To-night by all means," he declared.  "But my invitation remains
+--a challenge!"
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI
+
+The Prince, being host, arranged the places at his supper-table.
+Mr. Sabin found himself, therefore, between Lady Carey and a young
+German attache, whom they had met in the ante-room of the restaurant.
+Lucille had the Prince and Mr. Brott on either side of her.
+
+Lady Carey monopolised at first the greater part of the conversation.
+Mr. Sabin was unusually silent.  The German attache, whose name was
+Baron von Opperman, did not speak until the champagne was served,
+when he threw a bombshell into the midst of the little party.
+
+"I hear," he said, with a broad and seraphic smile, "that in this
+hotel there has to-day a murder been committed."
+
+Baron von Opperman was suddenly the cynosure of several pairs of
+eyes.  He was delighted with the success of his attempt towards
+the general entertainment.
+
+"The evening papers," he continued, "they have in them news of a
+sudden death.  But in the hotel here now they are speaking of
+something--what you call more--mysterious.  There has been ordered
+an examination post-mortem!"
+
+"It is a case of poisoning then, I presume?" the Prince asked,
+leaning forward.
+
+"It is so supposed," the attache answered.  "It seems that the
+doctors could find no trace of disease, nothing to have caused death.
+They were not able to decide anything.  The man, they said, was in
+perfect health--but dead."
+
+"It must have been, then," the Prince remarked, "a very wonderful
+poison."
+
+"Without doubt," Baron Opperman answered.
+
+The Prince sighed gently.
+
+"There are many such," he murmured.  "Indeed the science of
+toxicology was never so ill-understood as now.  I am assured that
+there are many poisons known only to a few chemists in the world, a
+single grain of which is sufficient to destroy the strongest man
+and leave not the slightest trace behind.  If the poisoner be
+sufficiently accomplished he can pursue his--calling without the
+faintest risk of detection."
+
+Mr. Sabin sipped his wine thoughtfully.
+
+"The Prince is, I believe, right," he remarked.  "It is for that
+reason, doubtless, that I have heard of men whose lives have been
+threatened, who have deposited in safe places a sealed statement of
+the danger in which they find themselves, with an account of its
+source, so that if they should come to an end in any way mysterious
+there may be evidence against their murderers."
+
+"A very reasonable and judicious precaution," the Prince remarked
+with glittering eyes.  "Only if the poison was indeed of such a
+nature that it was not possible to trace it nothing worse than
+suspicion could ever be the lot of any one."
+
+Mr. Sabin helped himself carefully to salad, and resumed the
+discussion with his next course.
+
+"Perhaps not," he admitted.  "But you must remember that suspicion
+is of itself a grievous embarrassment.  No man likes to feel that
+he is being suspected of murder.  By the bye, is it known whom the
+unfortunate person was?"
+
+"The servant of a French nobleman who is staying in the hotel," Mr.
+Brott remarked.  "I heard as much as that."
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled.  Lady Carey glanced at him meaningly.
+
+"You have worried the Prince quite sufficiently," she whispered.
+"Change the subject."
+
+Mr. Sabin bowed.
+
+"You are very considerate--to the Prince," he said.
+
+"It is perhaps for your sake," she answered.  "And as for the Prince
+--well, you know, or you should know, for how much he counts with
+me."
+
+Mr. Sabin glanced at her curiously.  She was a little flushed as
+though with some inward excitement.  Her eyes were bright and soft.
+Despite a certain angularity of figure and her hollow cheeks she was
+certainly one of the most distinguished-looking women in the room.
+
+"You are so dense," she whispered in his ear, "wilfully dense,
+perhaps.  You will not understand that I wish to be your friend."
+
+He smiled with gentle deprecation.
+
+"Do you blame me," he murmured, "if I seem incredulous?  For I am
+an old man, and you are spoken of always as the friend of my enemy,
+the friend of the Prince."
+
+"I wonder," she said thoughtfully, "if this is really the secret
+of your mistrust?  Do you indeed fear that I have no other interest
+in life save to serve Saxe Leinitzer?"
+
+"As to that," he answered, "I cannot say.  Yet I know that only a
+few months ago you were acting under orders from him.  It is you
+who brought Lucille from America.  It was through you that the first
+blow was struck at my happiness."
+
+"Cannot I atone?" she murmured under her breath.  "If I can I will.
+And as for the present, well, I am outside his schemes now.  Let us
+be friends.  You would find me a very valuable ally."
+
+"Let it be so," he answered without emotion.  "You shall help me,
+if you will, to regain Lucille.  I promise you then that my gratitude
+shall not disappoint you."
+
+She bit her lip.
+
+"And are you sure," she whispered, "that Lucille is anxious to be
+won back? She loves intrigue, excitement, the sense of being
+concerned in important doings.  Besides--you must have heard what
+they say about her--and Brott.  Look at her now.  She wears
+her grass widowhood lightly enough."
+
+Mr. Sabin looked across the table.  Lucille had indeed all the
+appearance of a woman thoroughly at peace with the world and herself.
+Brott was talking to her in smothered and eager undertones.  The
+Prince was waiting for an opportunity to intervene.  Mr. Sabin
+looked into Brott's white strong face, and was thoughtful.
+
+"It is a great power--the power of my sex," Lady Carey continued,
+with a faint, subtle smile.  "A word from Lucille, and the history
+book of the future must be differently written."
+
+"She will not speak that word," Mr. Sabin said.  Lady Carey shrugged
+her shoulders.  The subtlety of her smile faded away.  Her whole
+face expressed a contemptuous and self-assured cynicism.
+
+"You know her very well," she murmured.  "Yet she and I are no
+strangers.  She is one who loves to taste--no, to drink--deeply
+of all the experiences of life.  Why should we blame her, you and
+I?  Have we not the same desire?"
+
+Mr. Sabin lit a cigarette.
+
+"Once, perhaps," he remarked.  "You must not forget that I am no
+longer a young man."
+
+She leaned towards him.
+
+"You will die young," she murmured.  "You are not of the breed of
+men who grow old."
+
+"Do you mean to turn my head?" he asked her, with a humorous smile.
+
+"It would be easier," she answered, "than to touch your heart."
+
+Then Lucille looked across at them--and Mr. Sabin suddenly
+remembered that Reginald Brott knew them both only as strangers.
+
+"Muriel," she said, "you are behaving disgracefully."
+
+"I am doing my best," Lady Carey answered, "to keep you in
+countenance."
+
+The eyes of the two women met for a moment, and though the smiles
+lingered still upon their faces Lady Carey at any rate was not able
+to wholly conceal her hatred.  Lucille shrugged her shoulders.
+
+"I am doing my best," she said, "to convert Mr. Brott."
+
+"To what?" Lady Carey asked.
+
+"To a sane point of view concerning the holiness of the aristocracy,"
+Lucille answered.  "I am afraid though that I have made very little
+impression.  In his heart I believe Mr. Brott would like to see us
+all working for our living, school-teachers and dressmakers, and
+that sort of thing, you know."
+
+Mr. Brott protested.
+
+"I am not even," he declared, "moderately advanced in my views as
+regards matters of your sex.  To tell you the truth, I do not like
+women to work at all outside their homes."
+
+Lady Carey laughed.
+
+"My dear," she said to Lucille, "you and I may as well retire in
+despair.  Can't you see the sort of woman Mr. Brott admires?  She
+isn't like us a bit.  She is probably a healthy, ruddy-cheeked
+young person who lives in the country, gets up to breakfast to pour
+out the coffee for some sort of a male relative, goes round the
+garden snipping off roses in big gloves and a huge basket, interviews
+the cook, orders the dinner, makes fancy waistcoats for her husband,
+and failing a sewing maid, does the mending for the family.  You
+and I, Lucille, are not like that."
+
+"Well, you have mentioned nothing which I couldn't do, if it seemed
+worth while," Lucille objected.  "It sounds very primitive and
+delightful.  I am sure we are all too luxurious and too lazy.  I
+think we ought to turn over a new leaf."
+
+"For you, dear Lucille," Lady Carey said with suave and deadly
+satire, "what improvement is possible?  You have all that you could
+desire.  It is much less fortunate persons, such as myself, to whom
+Utopia must seem such a delightful place."
+
+A frock-coated and altogether immaculate young man approached their
+table and accosted Mr. Sabin.
+
+"I beg your pardon, sir," he said, "but the manager would be much
+obliged if you would spare him a moment or two in his private room
+as soon as possible."
+
+Mr. Sabin nodded.
+
+"In a few minutes," he answered.
+
+The little party broke up almost immediately.  Coffee was ordered
+in the palm court, where the band was playing.  Mr. Sabin and the
+Prince fell a little behind the others on the way out of the room.
+
+"You heard my summons?" Mr. Sabin asked.
+
+"Yes!"
+
+"I am going to be cross-examined as regards Duson.  I am no longer
+a member of the Order.  What is to prevent my setting them upon
+the right track?"
+
+"The fact," the Prince said coolly, "that you are hoping one day
+to recover Lucille."
+
+"I doubt," Mr. Sabin said, "whether you are strong enough to keep
+her from me."
+
+The Prince smiled.  All his white teeth were showing.
+
+"Come," he said, "you know better than--much better than that.
+Lucille must wait her release.  You know that."
+
+"I will buy it," Mr. Sabin said, "with a lie to the manager here,
+or I will tell the truth and still take her from you."
+
+The Prince stood upon the topmost step of the balcony.  Below was
+the palm court, with many little groups of people dotted about.
+
+"My dear friend," he said, "Duson died absolutely of his own free
+will.  You know that quite well.  We should have preferred that the
+matter had been otherwise arranged.  But as it is we are safe,
+absolutely safe."
+
+"Duson's letter!" Mr. Sabin remarked.
+
+"You will not show it," the Prince answered.  "You cannot.  You
+have kept it too long.  And, after all, you cannot escape from the
+main fact.  Duson committed suicide."
+
+"He was incited to murder.  His letter proves it."
+
+The Prince shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"By whom?  Ah, how your story would excite ridicule.  I seem to
+hear the laughter now.  No, my dear Souspennier, you would bargain
+for me with Lucille.  Look below.  Are we likely to part with her
+just yet?"
+
+In a corner, behind a gigantic palm, Lucille and Brott were talking
+together.  Lady Carey had drawn Opperman a little distance away.
+Brott was talking eagerly, his cheeks flushed, his manner earnest.
+Mr. Sabin turned upon his heel and walked away.
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII
+
+Mr. Sabin, although he had registered at the hotel under his
+accustomed pseudonym, had taken no pains to conceal his identity,
+and was well known to the people in authority about the place.  He
+was received with all the respect due to his rank.
+
+"Your Grace will, I trust, accept my most sincere apologies for
+disturbing you," Mr. Hertz, the manager, said, rising and bowing at
+his entrance.  "We have here, however, an emissary connected with
+the police come to inquire into the sad incident of this afternoon.
+He expressed a wish to ask your Grace a question or two with a view
+to rendering your Grace's attendance at the inquest unnecessary."
+
+Mr. Sabin nodded.
+
+"I am perfectly willing," he said, "to answer any questions you may
+choose to put to me."
+
+A plain, hard-featured little man, in a long black overcoat, and
+holding a bowler hat in his hand, bowed respectfully to Mr. Sabin.
+
+"I am much obliged to you, sir," he said.  "My name is John Passmore.
+We do not of course appear in this matter unless the post-mortem
+should indicate anything unusual in the circumstances of Duson's
+death, but it is always well to be prepared, and I ventured to ask
+Mr. Hertz here to procure for me your opinion as regards the death
+of your servant."
+
+"You have asked me," Mr. Sabin said gravely, "a very difficult
+question."
+
+The eyes of the little detective flashed keenly.
+
+"You do not believe then, sir, that he died a natural death?"
+
+"I do not," Mr. Sabin answered.
+
+Mr. Hertz was startled.  The detective controlled his features
+admirably.
+
+"May I ask your reasons, sir?"
+
+Mr. Sabin lightly shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"I have never known the man to have a day's illness in his life,"
+he said.  "Further, since his arrival in England he has been
+acting in a strange and furtive manner, and I gathered that he had
+some cause for fear which he was indisposed to talk about."
+
+"This," the detective said, "is very interesting."
+
+"Doubtless," Mr. Sabin answered.  "But before I say anything more
+I must clearly understand my position.  I am giving you personally
+a few friendly hints, in the interests of justice perhaps, but still
+quite informally.  I am not in possession of any definite facts
+concerning Duson, and what I say to you here I am not prepared to
+say at the inquest, before which I presume I may have to appear as
+a witness.  There, I shall do nothing more save identify Duson and
+state the circumstances under which I found him."
+
+"I understand that perfectly, sir," the man answered.  "The less
+said at the inquest the better in the interests of justice."
+
+Mr. Sabin nodded.
+
+"I am glad," he said, "that you appreciate that.  I do not mind going
+so far then as to tell you that I believe Duson died of poison."
+
+"Can you give me any idea," the detective asked, "as to the source?"
+
+"None," Mr. Sabin answered.  "That you must discover for yourselves.
+Duson was a man of silent and secretive habits, and it has occurred
+to me more than once that he might possibly be a member of one of
+those foreign societies who have their headquarters in Soho, and
+concerning which you probably know more than I do."
+
+The detective smiled.  It was a very slight flicker of the lips,
+but it attracted Mr. Sabin's keen attention.
+
+"Your suggestions," the detective said, "are making this case a very
+interesting one.  I have always understood, however, that reprisals
+of this extreme nature are seldom resorted to in this country.
+Besides, the man's position seems scarcely to indicate sufficient
+importance--perhaps--"
+
+"Well?" Mr. Sabin interjected.
+
+"I notice that Duson was found in your sitting-room.  It occurs to
+me as a possibility that he may have met with a fate intended for
+some one else--for yourself, for instance, sir!"
+
+"But I," Mr. Sabin said smoothly, "am a member of no secret society,
+nor am I conscious of having enemies sufficiently venomous to desire
+my life."
+
+The detective sat for a moment with immovable face.
+
+"We, all of us, know our friends, sir," he said.  "There are few of
+us properly acquainted with our enemies."
+
+Mr. Sabin lit a cigarette.  His fingers were quite steady, but this
+man was making him think.
+
+"You do not seriously believe," he asked, "that Duson met with a
+death which was intended for me?"
+
+"I am afraid," the detective said thoughtfully, "that I know no
+more about it than you do."
+
+"I see," Mr. Sabin said, "that I am no stranger to you."
+
+"You are very far from being that, sir," the man answered.  "A
+few years ago I was working for the Government--and you were not
+often out of my sight."
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled.
+
+"It was perhaps judicious," he remarked, "though I am afraid it
+proved of very little profit to you.  And what about the present
+time?"
+
+"I see no harm in telling you, sir, that a general watch is kept
+upon your movements.  Duson was useful to us ... but now Duson
+is dead."
+
+"It is a fact," Mr. Sabin said impressively, "that Duson was a
+genius.  My admiration for him continually increases."
+
+"Duson made harmless reports to us as we desired them," the
+detective said.  "I have an idea, however, that if this course had
+at any time been inimical to your interests that Duson would have
+deceived us."
+
+"I am convinced of it," Mr. Sabin declared.
+
+"And Duson is dead!"
+
+Mr. Sabin nodded gravely.
+
+The little hard-visaged man looked steadily for a moment upon the
+carpet.
+
+"Duson died virtually whilst accepting pay from if not actually
+in the employ of our Secret Service Department.  You will
+understand, therefore, that we, knowing of this complication in
+his life, naturally incline towards the theory of murder.  Shall
+I be taking a liberty, sir, if I give you an unprofessional word
+of warning?"
+
+Mr. Sabin raised his eyebrows.
+
+"By no means," he answered.  "But surely you cannot--"
+
+The man smiled.
+
+"No, sir," he said drily.  "I do not for one moment suspect you.
+The man was our spy upon your movements, but I am perfectly aware
+that there has been nothing worth reporting, and I also know that
+you would never run such a risk for the removal of so insignificant
+a person.  No, my warning comes to you from a different point of
+view.  It is, if you will pardon my saying so, none the less
+personal, but wholly friendly.  The case of Duson will be sifted to
+the dregs, but unless I am greatly mistaken, and I do not see room
+for the possibility of a mistake, I know the truth already."
+
+"You will share your knowledge?" Mr. Sabin asked quietly.
+
+The detective shook his head.
+
+"You shall know," he said, "before the last moment.  But I want to
+warn you that when you do now it--it will be a shock to you."
+
+Mr. Sabin stood perfectly still for several moments.  This little
+man believed what he was saying.  He was certainly deceived.  Yet
+none the less Mr. Sabin was thoughtful.
+
+"You do not feel inclined," he said slowly, "to give me your entire
+confidence."
+
+"Not at present, sir," the man answered.  "You would certainly
+intervene, and my case would be spoilt."
+
+Mr. Sabin glanced at the clock.
+
+"If you care to call on me to-morrow," he said, "I could perhaps
+show you something which might change your opinion."
+
+The detective bowed.
+
+"I am always open, sir," he said, "to conviction.  I will come
+about twelve o'clock."
+
+Mr. Sabin went back to the palm lounge.  Lucille and Reginald
+Brott were sitting together at a small table, talking earnestly
+to one another.  The Prince and Lady Carey had joined another
+party who were all talking together near the entrance.  The latter,
+directly she saw them coming, detached herself from them and came
+to him.
+
+"Your coffee is almost cold," she said, "but the Prince has found
+some brandy of wonderful age, somewhere in the last century, I
+believe."
+
+Mr. Sabin glanced towards Lucille.  She appeared engrossed in her
+conversation, and had not noticed his approach.  Lady Carey shrugged.
+
+"You have only a few minutes," she said, "before that dreadful
+person comes and frowns us all out.  I have kept you a chair."
+
+Mr. Sabin sat down.  Lady Carey interposed herself between him and
+the small table at which Lucille was sitting.
+
+"Have they discovered anything?" she asked.
+
+"Nothing!" Mr. Sabin answered.
+
+She played with her fan for a moment.  Then she looked him steadily
+in the face.
+
+"My friend?"
+
+He glanced towards her.
+
+"Lady Carey!"
+
+"Why are you so obstinate?" she exclaimed in a low, passionate
+whisper.  "I want to be your friend, and I could be very useful to
+you.  Yet you keep me always at arm's length.  You are making a
+mistake.  Indeed you are.  I suppose you do not trust me.  Yet
+reflect Have I ever told you anything that was not true?  Have I
+ever tried to deceive you?  I don't pretend to be a paragon of the
+virtues.  I live my life to please myself.  I admit it.  Why not?
+It is simply applying the same sort of philosophy to my life as
+you have applied to yours.  My enemies can find plenty to say about
+me--but never that I have been false to a friend.  Why do you keep
+me always at arm's length, as though I were one of those who wished
+you evil?"
+
+"Lady Carey," Mr. Sabin said, "I will not affect to misunderstand
+you, and I am flattered that you should consider my good will of
+any importance.  But you are the friend of the Prince of Saxe
+Leinitzer.  You are one of those even now who are working actively
+against me.  I am not blaming you, but we are on opposite sides."
+
+Lady Carey looked for a moment across at the Prince, and her eyes
+were full of venom.
+
+"If you knew," she murmured, "how I loathe that man.  Friends!  That
+is all long since past.  Nothing would give me so much pleasure as
+never to see his face again."
+
+"Nevertheless," Mr. Sabin reminded her, "whatever your private
+feelings may be, he has claims upon you which you cannot resist."
+
+"There is one thing in the world," she said in a low tone, "for
+which I would risk even the abnegation of those claims."
+
+"You would perjure your honour?"
+
+"Yes--if it came to that."
+
+Mr. Sabin moved uneasily in his chair.  The woman was in earnest.
+She offered him an invaluable alliance; she could show him the way
+to hold his own against even the inimical combination by which he
+was surrounded.  If only he could compromise.  But her eyes were
+seeking his eagerly, even fiercely.
+
+"You doubt me still," she whispered.  "And I thought that you had
+genius.  Listen, I will prove myself.  The Prince has one of his
+foolish passions for Lucille.  You know that.  So far she has shown
+herself able to resist his fascinations.  He is trying other means.
+Lucille is in danger!  Duson! --but after all, I was never really
+in danger, except the time when I carried the despatches for the
+colonel and rode straight into a Boer ambush."
+
+Mr. Sabin saw nothing, but he did not move a muscle of his face.  A
+moment later they heard the Prince's voice from behind them.
+
+"I am very sorry," he said, "to interrupt these interesting
+reminiscences, but you see that every one is going.  Lucille is
+already in the cloak-room."
+
+Lady Carey rose at once, but the glance she threw at the Prince was
+a singularly malicious one.  They walked down the carpeted way
+together, and Lady Carey left them without a word.  In the vestibule
+Mr. Sabin and Reginald Brott came face to face.
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII
+
+The greeting between the two men was cold, and the Prince almost
+immediately stepped between them.  Nevertheless, Brott seemed
+to have a fancy to talk with Mr. Sabin.
+
+"I was at Camperdown House yesterday," he remarked.  "Her Ladyship
+was regretting that she saw you so seldom."
+
+"I have been a little remiss," Mr. Sabin answered.  "I hope to lunch
+there to-morrow."
+
+"You have seen the evening paper, Brott?" the Prince asked.
+
+"I saw the early editions," Brott answered.  "Is there anything
+fresh?"
+
+The Prince dropped his voice a little.  He drew Brott on one side.
+
+"The Westminster declared that you had left for Windsor by an early
+train this afternoon, and gives a list of your Cabinet.  The Pall
+Mall, on the other hand, declares that Letheringham will assuredly
+be sent for to-morrow."
+
+Brott shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"There are bound to be a crop of such reports at a time like this,"
+he remarked.
+
+The Prince dropped his voice almost to a whisper.
+
+"Brott," he said, "there is something which I have had it in my
+mind to say to you for the last few days.  I am not perhaps a great
+politician, but, like many outsiders, I see perhaps a good deal of
+the game.  I know fairly well what the feeling is in Vienna and
+Berlin.  I can give you a word of advice."
+
+"You are very kind, Prince," Brott remarked, looking uneasily over
+his shoulder.  "But--"
+
+"It is concerning Brand.  There is no man more despised and disliked
+abroad, not only because he is a Jew and ill-bred, but because of
+his known sympathy with some of these anarchists who are perfect
+firebrands in Europe."
+
+"I am exceedingly obliged to you," Brott answered hurriedly.  "I am
+afraid, however, that you anticipate matters a good deal.  I have
+not yet been asked to form a Cabinet.  It is doubtful whether I ever
+shall.  And, beyond that, it is also doubtful whether even if I am
+asked I shall accept."
+
+"I must confess," the Prince said, "that you puzzle me.  Every one
+says that the Premiership of the country is within your reach.  It
+is surely the Mecca of all politicians."
+
+"There are complications," Brott muttered.  "You--"
+
+He stopped short and moved towards the door.  Lucille, unusually
+pale and grave, had just issued from the ladies' ante-room, and
+joined Lady Carey, who was talking to Mr. Sabin.  She touched the
+latter lightly on the arm.
+
+"Help us to escape," she said quickly.  "I am weary of my task.
+Can we get away without their seeing us?"
+
+Mr. Sabin offered his arm.  They passed along the broad way, and
+as they were almost the last to leave the place, their carriage
+was easily found.  The Prince and Mr. Brott appeared only in time
+to see Mr. Sabin turning away, hat in hand, from the curb-stone.
+Brott's face darkened.
+
+"Prince," he said, "who is that man?"
+
+The Prince shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"A man," he said, "who has more than once nearly ruined your
+country.  His life has been a splendid failure.  He would have
+given India to the Russians, but they mistrusted him and trifled
+away their chance.  Once since then he nearly sold this country
+to Germany; it was a trifle only which intervened.  He has been
+all his life devoted to one cause."
+
+"And that?" Brott asked.
+
+"The restoration of the monarchy to France.  He, as you of course
+know, is the Duc de Souspennier, the sole living member in the
+direct line of one of the most ancient and historical houses in
+England.  My friend," he added, turning to Mr. Sabin, "you have
+stolen a march upon us.  We had not even an opportunity of making
+our adieux to the ladies."
+
+"I imagine," Mr. Sabin answered, "that the cause of quarrel may
+rest with them.  You were nowhere in sight when they came out."
+
+"These fascinating politics," the Prince remarked.  "We all want
+to talk politics to Mr. Brott just now."
+
+"I will wish you good-night, gentlemen," Mr. Sabin said, and passed
+into the hotel.
+
+The Prince touched Brott on the arm.
+
+"Will you come round to the club, and take a hand at bridge?" he said.
+
+Brott laughed shortly.
+
+"I imagine," he said, "that I should be an embarrassing guest to
+you just now at, say the Mallborough, or even at the St. James.
+I believe the aristocracy are looking forward to the possibility of
+my coming into power with something like terror."
+
+"I am not thoroughly versed; in the politics of this country," the
+Prince said, "but I have always understood that your views were
+very much advanced.  Dorset solemnly believes that you are pledged
+to exterminate the large landed proprietors, and I do not think he
+would be surprised to hear that you had a guillotine up your sleeve."
+
+The two men were strolling along Pall Mall.  The Prince had lit a
+large cigar, and was apparently on the best of terms with himself
+and the world in general.  Brott, on the contrary, was most unlike
+himself, preoccupied, and apparently ill at ease.
+
+"The Duke and his class are, of course, my natural opponents," Brott
+said shortly.  "By the bye, Prince," he added, suddenly turning
+towards him, and with a complete change of tone, "it is within your
+power to do me a favour."
+
+"You have only to command," the Prince assured him good-naturedly.
+
+"My rooms are close here," Brott continued.  "Will you accompany
+me there, and grant me the favour of a few minutes' conversation?"
+
+"Assuredly!" the Prince answered, flicking the end off his cigar.
+"It will be a pleasure."
+
+They walked on towards their destination in silence.  Brott's
+secretary was in the library with a huge pile of letters and
+telegrams before him.  He welcomed Brott with relief.
+
+"We have been sending all over London for you, sir," he said.
+
+Brott nodded.
+
+"I am better out of the way for the present," he answered.  "Deny
+me to everybody for an hour, especially Letheringham.  There is
+nothing here, I suppose, which cannot wait so long as that?"
+
+The secretary looked a little doubtful.
+
+"I think not, sir," he decided.
+
+"Very good.  Go and get something to eat.  You look fagged.  And
+tell Hyson to bring up some liqueurs, will you!  I shall be engaged
+for a short time."
+
+The secretary withdrew.  A servant appeared with a little tray of
+liqueurs, and in obedience to an impatient gesture from his master,
+left them upon the table.  Brott closed the door firmly.
+
+"Prince," he said, resuming his seat, "I wished to speak with you
+concerning the Countess."
+
+Saxe Leinitzer nodded.
+
+"All right," he said.  "I am listening!"
+
+"I understand," Brott continued, "that you are one of her oldest
+friends, and also one of the trustees of her estates.  I presume
+that you stand to her therefore to some extent in the position of
+an adviser?"
+
+"It is perfectly true," the Prince admitted.
+
+"I, too, am an old friend, as she has doubtless told you," Brott
+said.  "All my life she has been the one woman whom I have desired
+to call my wife.  That desire has never been so strong as at the
+present moment."
+
+The Prince removed his cigar from his mouth and looked grave.
+
+"But, my dear Brott," he said, "have you considered the enormous
+gulf between your--views?  The Countess owns great hereditary
+estates, she comes from a family which is almost Royal, she herself
+is an aristocrat to the backbone.  It is a class against which you
+have declared war.  How can you possibly come together on common
+ground?"
+
+Brott was silent for a moment.  Looking at him steadily the Prince
+was surprised at the change in the man's appearance.  His cheeks
+seemed blanched and his skin drawn.  He had lost flesh, his eyes
+were hollow, and he frequently betrayed in small mannerisms a
+nervousness wholly new and unfamiliar to him.
+
+"You speak as a man of sense, Prince," he said after a while.  "You
+are absolutely correct.  This matter has caused me a great deal of
+anxious thought.  To falter at this moment is to lose, politically,
+all that I have worked for all my life.  It is to lose the confidence
+of the people who have trusted me.  It is a betrayal, the thought of
+which is a constant shame to me.  But, on the other hand, Lucille
+is the dearest thing to me in life."
+
+The Prince's expression was wholly sympathetic.  The derision which
+lurked behind he kept wholly concealed.  A strong man so abjectly
+in the toils, and he to be chosen for his confidant!  It was
+melodrama with a dash of humour.
+
+"If I am to help you," the Prince said, "I must know everything.
+Have you made any proposals to Lucille?  In plain words, how much
+of your political future are you disposed to sacrifice?"
+
+"All!" Brott said hoarsely.  "All for a certainty of her.  Not
+one jot without."
+
+"And she?"
+
+Brott sprang to his feet, white and nervous.
+
+"It is where I am at fault," he exclaimed.  "It is why I have asked
+for your advice, your help perhaps.  I do not find it easy to
+understand Lucille.  Perhaps it is because I am not well versed in
+the ways of her sex.  I find her elusive.  She will give me no
+promise.  Before I went to Glasgow I talked with her.  If she
+would have married me then my political career was over--thrown on
+one side like an old garment.  But she would give me no promise.
+In everything save the spoken words I crave she has promised me her
+love.  Again there comes a climax.  In a few hours I must make my
+final choice.  I must decline to join Letheringham, in which case
+the King must send for me, or accept office with him, and throw away
+the one great chance of this generation.  Letheringham's Cabinet,
+of course, would be a moderate Liberal one, a paragon of milk and
+water in effectiveness.  If I go in alone we make history.  The
+moment of issue has come.  And, Prince, although I have pleaded
+with all the force and all the earnestness I know, Lucille remains
+elusive.  If I choose for her side--she promises me--reward.  But
+it is vague to me.  I don't, I can't understand!  I want her for my
+wife, I want her for the rest of my life--nothing else.  Tell me,
+is there any barrier to this?  There are no complications in her
+life which I do not know of?  I want your assurance.  I want her
+promise.  You understand me?"
+
+"Yes, I understand you," the Prince said gravely.  "I understand
+more than you do.  I understand Lucille's position."
+
+Brott leaned forward with bright eyes.
+
+"Ah!"
+
+
+"Lucille, the Countess of Radantz, is at the present moment a
+married woman."
+
+Brott was speechless.  His face was like a carved stone image,
+from which the life had wholly gone.
+
+"Her husband--in name only, let me tell you, is the Mr. Sabin
+with whom we had supper this evening."
+
+"Great God!"
+
+"Their marriage had strange features in it which are not my concern,
+or even yours," the Prince said deliberately.  "The truth is, that
+they have not lived together for years, they never will again, for
+their divorce proceedings would long ago have been concluded but
+for the complications arising from the difference between the
+Hungarian and the American laws.  Here, without doubt, is the reason
+why the Countess has hesitated to pledge her word directly."
+
+"It is wonderful," Brott said slowly.  "But it explains everything."
+
+There was a loud knock at the door.  The secretary appeared upon
+the threshold.  Behind him was a tall, slim young man in traveling
+costume.
+
+"The King's messenger!" Brott exclaimed, rising to his feet.
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIV
+
+The Prince presented himself with a low bow.  Lucille had a copy
+of the morning paper in her hand.
+
+"I congratulate you, Countess," he said.  "You progress admirably.
+It is a great step gained."
+
+Lucille, who was looking pale and nervous, regarded him with anxiety.
+
+"A step!  But it is everything.  If these rumours are true, he
+refuses the attempt to form a Cabinet.  He takes a subordinate
+position under Letheringham.  Every paper this morning says that if
+this is so his political career is over.  It is true, is it not?"
+
+"It is a great gain," the Prince said slowly.
+
+"But it is everything," Lucille declared, with a rising note of
+passion in her tone.  "It was my task.  It is accomplished.  I
+demand my release."
+
+The Prince was silent for a moment.
+
+"You are in a great hurry, Lucille," he said.
+
+"What if I am!" she replied fiercely.  "Do you suppose that this
+life of lies and deceit is pleasant to me?  Do you suppose that it
+is a pleasant task to lure a brave man on to his ruin?"
+
+The Prince raised his eyebrows.
+
+"Come," he said, "you can have no sympathy with Reginald Brott, the
+sworn enemy of our class, a Socialist, a demagogue who would parcel
+out our lands in allotments, a man who has pledged himself to nothing
+more nor less than a revolution."
+
+"The man's views are hateful enough," she answered, "but he is in
+earnest, and however misguided he may be there is something noble in
+his unselfishness, in his, steady fixedness of purpose."
+
+The Prince's face indicated his contempt.
+
+"Such men," he declared, "are only fit to be crushed like vermin
+under foot.  In any other country save England we should have dealt
+with him differently."
+
+"This is all beside the question," she declared. "My task was to
+prevent his becoming Prime Minister, and I have succeeded."
+
+The Prince gave vent to a little gesture of dissent.  "Your task,"
+he said, "went a little farther than that.  We require his political
+ruin."
+
+She pointed to the pile of newspapers upon the table.
+
+"Read what they say!" she exclaimed.  "There is not one who does
+not use that precise term.  He has missed his opportunity.  The
+people will never trust him again."
+
+"That, at any rate, is not certain," the Prince said.  "You must
+remember that before long he will realise that he has been your
+tool.  What then?  He will become more rabid than ever, more also
+to be feared.  No, Lucille, your task is not yet over.  He must be
+involved in an open and public scandal, and with you."
+
+She was white almost to the lips with passion.
+
+"You expect a great deal!" she exclaimed.  "You expect me to ruin
+my life, then, to give my honour as well as these weary months,
+this constant humiliation."
+
+"You are pleased to be melodramatic," he said coldly.  "It is quite
+possible to involve him without actually going to extremes."
+
+"And what of my husband?" she asked.
+
+The Prince laughed unpleasantly.
+
+"If you have not taught him complaisance," he said, "it is possible,
+of course, that Mr. Sabin might be unkind.  But what of it?  You
+are your own mistress.  You are a woman of the world.  Without him
+there is an infinitely greater future before you than as his wife
+you could ever enjoy."
+
+"You are pleased," she said, "to be enigmatic."
+
+The Prince looked hard at her.  Her face was white and set.  He
+sighed.
+
+"Lucille," he said, "I have been very patient for many years.  Yet
+you know very well my secret, and in your heart you know very well
+that I am one of those who generally win the thing upon which they
+have set their hearts.  I have always loved you, Lucille, but
+never more than now.  Fidelity is admirable, but surely you have done
+your duty.  He is an old man, and a man who has failed in the great
+things of life.  I, on the other hand, can offer you a great future.
+Saxe Leinitzer, as you know, is a kingdom of its own, and, Lucille,
+I stand well with the Emperor.  The Socialist party in Berlin are
+strong and increasing.  He needs us.  Who can say what honours may
+not be in store for us?  For I, too, am of the Royal House, Lucille.
+I am his kinsman.  He never forgets that.  Come, throw aside this
+restlessness.  I will tell you how to deal with Brott, and the
+publicity, after all, will be nothing.  We will go abroad directly
+afterwards."
+
+"Have you finished?" she asked.
+
+"You will be reasonable!" he begged.
+
+"Reasonable!" She turned upon him with flashing eyes.  "I wonder
+how you ever dared to imagine that I could tolerate you for one
+moment as a lover or a husband.  Wipe it out of your mind once and
+for all.  You are repellent to me.  Positively the only wish I have
+in connection with you is never to see your face again.  As for my
+duty, I have done it.  My conscience is clear.  I shall leave this
+house to-day."
+
+"I hope," the Prince said softly, "that you will do nothing rash!"
+
+"In an hour," she said, "I shall be at the Carlton with my husband.
+I will trust to him to protect me from you."
+
+The Prince shook his head.
+
+"You talk rashly," he said.  "You do not think.  You are forbidden
+to leave this house.  You are forbidden to join your husband."
+
+She laughed scornfully, but underneath was a tremor of uneasiness.
+
+"You summoned me from America," she said, "and I came ... I was
+forced to leave my husband without even a word of farewell.  I did
+it!  You set me a task--I have accomplished it.  I claim that I
+have kept my bond, that I have worked out my own freedom.  If you
+require more of me, I say that you are overstepping your authority,
+and I refuse.  Set the black cross against my name if you will.  I
+will take the risk."
+
+The Prince came a little nearer to her.  She held her own bravely
+enough, but there was a look in his face which terrified her.
+
+"Lucille," he said, "you force me to disclose something which I
+have kept so far to myself.  I wished to spare you anxiety, but
+you must understand that your safety depends upon your remaining
+in this house, and in keeping apart from all association with
+--your husband."
+
+"You will find it difficult," she said, "to convince me of that."
+
+"On the contrary," he said, "I shall find it easy--too easy,
+believe me.  You will remember my finding you at the wine-shop of
+Emil Sachs?"
+
+"Yes!"
+
+"You refused to tell me the object of your visit.  It was foolish,
+for of course I was informed.  You procured from Emil a small
+quantity of the powder prepared according to the recipe of Herr
+Estentrauzen, and for which we paid him ten thousand marks.  It is
+the most silent, the most secret, the most swift poison yet
+discovered."
+
+"I got it for myself," she said coldly.  "There have been times
+when I have felt that the possession of something of that sort was
+an absolute necessity."
+
+"I do not question you as to the reason for your getting it," he
+answered.  "Very shortly afterwards you left your carriage in Pall
+Mall, and without even asking for your husband you called at his
+hotel--you stole up into his room."
+
+"I took some roses there and left them," she said "What of that?"
+
+"Only that you were the last person seen to enter Mr. Sabin's rooms
+before Duson was found there dead.  And Duson died from a dose of
+that same poison, a packet of which you procured secretly from Emil
+Sachs.  An empty wineglass was by his side--it was one generally
+used by Mr. Sabin.  I know that the English police, who are not so
+foolish as people would have one believe, are searching now for the
+woman who was seen to enter the sitting-room shortly before Mr.
+Sabin returned and found Duson there dead."
+
+She laughed scornfully.
+
+"It is ingenious," she admitted, "and perhaps a little unfortunate
+for me.  But the inference is ridiculous.  What interest had I in
+the man's death?"
+
+"None, of course!" the Prince said.  "But, Lucille, in all cases
+of poisoning it is the wife of whom one first thinks!"
+
+"The wife? I did not even know that the creature had a wife."
+
+"Of course not!  But Duson drank from Mr. Sabin's glass, and you
+are Mr. Sabin's wife.  You are living apart from him.  He is old
+and you are young.  And for the other man--there is Reginald Brott.
+Your names have been coupled together, of course.  See what an
+excellent case stands there.  You procure the poison--secretly.
+You make your way to your husband's room--secretly.  The fatal
+dose is taken from your husband's wineglass.  You leave no note,
+no message.  The poison of which the man died is exactly the same
+as you procured from Sachs.  Lucille, after all, do you wonder that
+the police are looking for a woman in black with an ermine toque?
+What a mercy you wore a thick veil!"
+
+She sat down suddenly.
+
+"This is hideous," she said.
+
+"Think it over," he said, "step by step.  It is wonderful how all
+the incidents dovetail into one another."
+
+"Too wonderful," she cried.  "It sounds like some vile plot to
+incriminate me.  How much had you to do with this, Prince?"
+
+"Don't be a fool!" he answered roughly.  "Can't you see for yourself
+that your arrest would be the most terrible thing that could happen
+for us?  Even Sachs might break down in cross-examination, and you
+--well, you are a woman, and you want to live.  We should all be
+in the most deadly peril.  Lucille, I would have spared you this
+anxiety if I could, but your defiance made it necessary.  There was
+no other way of getting you away from England to-night except by
+telling you the truth."
+
+"Away from England to-night," she repeated vaguely.  "But I will
+not go.  It is impossible."
+
+"It is imperative," the Prince declared, with a sharp ring of
+authority in his tone.  "It is your own folly, for which you have
+to pay.  You went secretly to Emil Sachs.  You paid surreptitious
+visits to your husband, which were simply madness.  You have
+involved us all in danger.  For our own sakes we must see that
+you are removed."
+
+"It is the very thing to excite suspicion--flight abroad," she
+objected.
+
+"Your flight," he said coolly, "will be looked upon from a different
+point of view, for Reginald Brott must follow you.  It will be an
+elopement, not a flight from justice."
+
+"And in case I should decline?" Lucille asked quietly.
+
+The Prince shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"Well, we have done the best we can for ourselves," he said.  "Come,
+I will be frank with you.  There are great interests involved here,
+and, before all things, I have had to consider the welfare of our
+friends.  That is my duty!  Emil Sachs by this time is beyond risk
+of detection.  He has left behind a letter, in which he confesses
+that he has for some time supplemented the profits of his wine-shop
+by selling secretly certain deadly poisons of his own concoctions.
+Alarmed at reading of the death of Duson immediately after he had
+sold a poison which the symptoms denoted he had fled the country.
+That letter is in the hands of the woman who remains in the
+wine-shop, and will only be used in case of necessity.  By other
+means we have dissociated ourselves from Duson and all connection
+with him.  I think I could go so far as to say that it would be
+impossible to implicate us.  Our sole anxiety now, therefore, is to
+save you."
+
+Lucille rose to her feet.
+
+"I shall go at once to my husband," she said.  "I shall tell him
+everything.  I shall act on his advice."
+
+The Prince stood over by the door, and she heard the key turn.
+
+"You will do nothing of the sort," he said quietly.  "You are in
+my power at last, Lucille.  You will do my bidding, or--"
+
+"Or what?"
+
+"I shall myself send for the police and give you into custody!"
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXV
+
+The Prince crossed the hall and entered the morning-room.  Felix
+was there and Raoul de Brouillac.  The Duchess sat at her
+writing-table, scribbling a note.  Lady Carey, in a wonderful white
+serge costume, and a huge bunch of Neapolitan violets at her bosom,
+was lounging in an easy-chair, swinging her foot backwards and
+forwards.  The Duke, in a very old tweed coat, but immaculate as to
+linen and the details of his toilet, stood a little apart, with a
+frown upon his forehead, and exactly that absorbed air which in the
+House of Lords usually indicated his intention to make a speech.  The
+entrance of the Prince, who carefully closed the door behind him,
+was an event for which evidently they were all waiting.
+
+"My good people," he said blandly, "I wish you all a very
+good-morning."
+
+There was a little murmur of greetings, and before they had all
+subsided the Duke spoke.
+
+"Saxe Leinitzer," he said, "I have a few questions to ask you."
+
+The Prince looked across the room at him.
+
+"By all means, Duke," he said.  "But is the present an opportune
+time?"
+
+"Opportune or no, it is the time which I have selected," the Duke
+answered stiffly.  "I do not altogether understand what is going
+on in this house.  I am beginning to wonder whether I have been
+misled."
+
+The Prince, as he twirled his fair moustache, glanced carelessly
+enough across at the Duchess.  She was looking the other way.
+
+"I became a--er--general member of this Society," the Duke
+continued, "sympathising heartily with its objects as explained to
+me by you, Prince, and believing, although to confess it is somewhat
+of a humiliation, that a certain amount of--er--combination
+amongst the aristocracy has become necessary to resist the terrible
+increase of Socialism which we must all so much deplore."
+
+"You are not making a speech, dear," the Duchess remarked, looking
+coldly across the room at him.  "We are all anxious to hear what
+the Prince has to say to us."
+
+"Your anxiety," the Duke continued, "and the anxiety of our friends
+must be restrained for a few minutes, for there are certain things
+which I am determined to say, and to say them now.  I must confess
+that it was at first a painful shock to me to realise that the time
+had come when it was necessary for us to take any heed of the
+uneducated rabble who seem born into the world discontented with
+their station in life, and instead of making honest attempts to
+improve it waste their time railing against us who are more
+fortunately placed, and in endeavours to mislead in every possible
+way the electorate of the country."
+
+The Prince sighed softly, and lit a cigarette.  Lady Carey and
+Felix were already smoking.
+
+"However," the Duke continued, "I was convinced.  I have always
+believed in the principle of watching closely the various signs
+of the times, and I may say that I came to the conclusion that a
+combination of the thinking members of the aristocratic party
+throughout the world was an excellent idea.  I therefore became
+what is, I believe, called a general member of the Order, of
+which I believe you, Prince, are the actual head."
+
+"My dear James," the Duchess murmured, "the Prince has something
+to say to us."
+
+"The Prince," her husband answered coldly, "can keep back his
+information for a few minutes.  I am determined to place my position
+clearly before all of you who are present here now.  It is only
+since I have joined this Society that I have been made aware that
+in addition to the general members, of which body I believe that
+the Duchess and I are the sole representatives here, there are
+special members, and members of the inner circle.  And I understand
+that in connection with these there is a great machinery of intrigue
+going on all the time, with branches all over the world, spies
+everywhere with unlimited funds, and with huge opportunities of
+good or evil.  In effect I have become an outside member of what is
+nothing more nor less than a very powerful and, it seems to me,
+daring secret society."
+
+"So far as you are concerned, Duke," the Prince said, "your
+responsibility ceases with ordinary membership.  You can take no
+count of anything beyond.  The time may come when the inner circle
+may be opened to you."
+
+The Duke coughed.
+
+"You misapprehend me," he said.  "I can assure you I am not anxious
+for promotion.  On the contrary, I stand before you an aggrieved
+person.  I have come to the conclusion that my house, and the
+shelter of my wife's name, have been used for a plot, the main
+points of which have been kept wholly secret from me."
+
+The Prince flicked his cigarette ash into the grate.
+
+"My dear Dorset," he said gently, "if you will allow me to explain--"
+
+"I thank you, Saxe Leinitzer," the Duke said coldly, "but it is
+beginning to occur to me that I have had enough of your explanations.
+It seemed natural enough to me, and I must say well conceived, that
+some attempt should be made to modify the views of, if not wholly
+convert, Reginald Brott by means of the influence of a very charming
+woman.  It was my duty as a member of the Order to assist in this,
+and the shelter of my house and name were freely accorded to the
+Countess.  But it is news to me to find that she was brought here
+practically by force.  That because she was an inner member and
+therefore bound to implicit obedience that she was dragged away from
+her husband, kept apart from him against her will, forced into
+endeavours to make a fool of Brott even at the cost of her good name.
+And now, worst of all, I am told that a very deeply laid plot on
+the part of some of you will compel her to leave England almost at
+once, and that her safety depends upon her inducing Reginald Brott
+to accompany her."
+
+"She has appealed to you," the Prince muttered.
+
+"She has done nothing so sensible," the Duke answered drily.  "The
+facts which I have just stated are known to every one in this room.
+I perhaps know less than any one.  But I know enough for this.  I
+request, Saxe Leinitzer, that you withdraw the name of myself and
+my wife from your list of members, and that you understand clearly
+that my house is to be no more used for meetings of the Society,
+formal or informal.  And, further, though I regret the apparent
+inhospitality of my action, my finger is now, as you see, upon the
+bell, and I venture to wish you all a very good-morning.  Groves,"
+he added to the servant who answered the door, "the Prince of Saxe
+Leinitzer's carriage is urgently required."
+
+The Prince and Lady Carey descended the broad steps side by side.
+She was laughing softly but immoderately.  The Prince was pale
+with fury.
+
+"Pompous old ass," he muttered savagely.  "He may have a worse
+scandal in his house now than he dreams of."
+
+She wiped her eyes.
+
+"Have I not always told you," she said, "that intrigue in this
+country was a sheer impossibility?  You may lay your plans ever so
+carefully, but you cannot foresee such a contretemps as this."
+
+"Idiot!" the Prince cried. "Oh, the dolt!  Why, even his wife was
+amazed."
+
+"He may be all those pleasant things," Lady Carey, said, "but he
+is a gentleman."
+
+He stopped short.  The footman was standing by the side of Lady
+Carey's victoria with a rug on his arm.
+
+"Lucille," he said thoughtfully, "is locked in the morning-room.
+She is prostrate with fear.  If the Duke sees her everything is
+over.  Upon my word, I have a good mind to throw this all up and
+cross to Paris to-night.  Let England breed her own revolutions.
+What do you say, Muriel?  Will you come with me?"
+
+She laughed scornfully.
+
+"I'd as soon go with my coachman," she said.
+
+His eyebrows narrowed.  A dull, purple flush crept to his forehead.
+
+"Your wit," he said, "is a little coarse.  Listen!  You wish our
+first plan to go through?"
+
+"Of course!"
+
+"Then you must get Lucille out of that house.  If she is left there
+she is absolutely lost to us.  Apart from that, she is herself not
+safe.  Our plan worked out too well.  She is really in danger from
+this Duson affair."
+
+The laughter died away from Lady Carey's face.  She hesitated with
+her foot upon the step of her carriage.
+
+"You can go back easily enough," the Prince said.  "You are the
+Duke's cousin, and you were not included in his tirade.  Lucille is
+in the morning-room, and here is the key.  I brought it away with me.
+You must tell her that all our plans are broken, that we have
+certain knowledge that the police are on the track of this Duson
+affair.  Get her to your house in Pont Street, and I will be round
+this afternoon.  Or better still, take her to mine."
+
+Lady Carey stepped back on to the pavement.  She was still, however,
+hesitating.
+
+"Leave her with the Duke and Duchess," the Prince said, "and she will
+dine with her husband to-night."
+
+Lady Carey took the key from his hand.
+
+"I will try," she said.  "How shall you know whether I succeed?"
+
+"I will wait in the gardens," he answered.  "I shall be out of sight,
+but I shall be able to see you come out.  If you are alone I shall
+come to you.  If she is with you I shall be at your house in an
+hour, and I promise you that she shall leave England to-night with
+me."
+
+"Poor Brott!" she murmured ironically.
+
+The Prince smiled.
+
+"He will follow her.  Every one will believe that they left London
+together.  That is all that is required."
+
+Lady Carey re-entered the house.  The Prince made his way into the
+gardens.  Ten minutes passed--a quarter of an hour.  Then Lady Carey
+with Lucille reappeared, and stepping quickly into the victoria were
+driven away.  The Prince drew a little sigh of relief.  He looked at
+his watch, called a hansom, and drove to his club for lunch.
+
+Another man, who had also been watching Dorset House from the
+gardens for several hours, also noted Lucille's advent with relief.
+He followed the Prince out and entered another hansom.
+
+"Follow that victoria which has just driven off," he ordered.
+"Don't lose sight of it.  Double fare."
+
+The trap-door fell, and the man whipped up his horse.
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVI
+
+Mr. Sabin received an early visitor whilst still lingering over
+a slight but elegant breakfast.  Passmore seated himself in an
+easy-chair and accepted the cigar which his host himself selected
+for him.
+
+"I am glad to see you," Mr. Sabin said.  "This affair of Duson's
+remains a complete mystery to me.  I am looking to you to help me
+solve it."
+
+The little man with the imperturbable face removed his cigar from
+his mouth and contemplated it steadfastly.
+
+"It is mysterious," he said.  "There are circumstances in connection
+with it which even now puzzle me very much, very much indeed.  There
+are circumstances in connection with it also which I fear may be a
+shock to you, sir."
+
+"My life," Mr. Sabin said, with a faint smile, "has been made up of
+shocks.  A few more or less may not hurt me."
+
+"Duson," the detective said, "was at heart a faithful servant!"
+
+"I believe it," Mr. Sabin said.
+
+"He was much attached to you!"
+
+"I believe it."
+
+"It is possible that unwittingly he died for you."
+
+Mr. Sabin was silent.  It was his way of avoiding a confession of
+surprise.  And he was surprised.  "You believe then," he said,
+after a moment's pause, "that the poison was intended for me?"
+
+"Certainly I do," the detective answered.  "Duson was, after all,
+a valet, a person of little importance.  There is no one to whom
+his removal could have been of sufficient importance to justify
+such extreme measures.  With you it is different."
+
+Mr. Sabin knocked the ash from his cigarette.
+
+"Why not be frank with me, Mr. Passmore?" he said.  "There is no
+need to shelter yourself under professional reticence.  Your
+connection with Scotland Yard ended, I believe, some time ago.  You
+are free to speak or to keep silence.  Do one or the other.  Tell me
+what you think, and I will tell you what I know.  That surely will
+be a fair exchange.  You shall have my facts for your surmises."
+
+Passmore's thin lips curled into a smile.  "You know that I have
+left Scotland Yard then, sir?"
+
+"Quite well!  You are employed by them often, I believe, but you
+are not on the staff, not since the affair of Nerman and the code
+book."
+
+If Passmore had been capable of reverence, his eyes looked it at
+that moment.
+
+"You knew this last night, sir?"
+
+"Certainly!"
+
+"Five years ago, sir," he said, "I told my chief that in you the
+detective police of the world had lost one who must have been their
+king.  More and more you convince me of it.  I cannot believe that
+you are ignorant of the salient points concerning Duson's death."
+
+"Treat me as being so, at any rate," Mr. Sabin said.
+
+"I am pardoned," Passmore said, "for speaking plainly of family
+matters--my concern in which is of course purely professional?"
+
+Mr. Sabin looked up for a moment, but he signified his assent.
+
+"You left America," Passmore said, "in search of your wife, formerly
+Countess of Radantz, who had left you unexpectedly."
+
+"It is true!"  Mr. Sabin answered.
+
+"Madame la Duchesse on reaching London became the guest of the
+Duchess of Dorset, where she has been staying since.  Whilst there
+she has received many visits from Mr. Reginald Brott."
+
+Mr. Sabin's face was as the face of a sphinx.  He made no sign.
+
+"You do not waste your time, sir, over the Society papers.  Yet you
+have probably heard that Madame la Duchesse and Mr. Reginald Brott
+have been written about and spoken about as intimate friends.  They
+have been seen together everywhere.  Gossip has been busy with their
+names.  Mr. Brott has followed the Countess into circles which
+before her coming he zealously eschewed.  The Countess is everywhere
+regarded as a widow, and a marriage has been confidently spoken of."
+
+Mr. Sabin bowed his head slightly.  But of expression there was in
+his face no sign.
+
+"These things," Passmore continued, "are common knowledge.  I have
+spoken up to now of nothing which is not known to the world.  I
+proceed differently."
+
+"Good!"  Mr. Sabin said.
+
+"There is," Passmore continued, "in the foreign district of London
+a man named Emil Sachs, who keeps a curious sort of a wine-shop, and
+supplements his earnings by disposing at a high figure of certain
+rare and deadly poisons.  A few days ago the Countess visited him
+and secured a small packet of the most deadly drug the man possesses."
+
+Mr. Sabin sat quite still.  He was unmoved.
+
+"The Countess," Passmore continued, "shortly afterwards visited
+these rooms.  An hour after her departure Duson was dead.  He died
+from drinking out of your liqueur glass, into which a few specks
+of that powder, invisible almost to the naked eye, had been dropped.
+At Dorset House Reginald Brott was waiting for her.  He left shortly
+afterwards in a state of agitation."
+
+"And from these things," Mr. Sabin said, "you draw, I presume, the
+natural inference that Madame la Duchesse, desiring to marry her
+old admirer, Reginald Brott, first left me in America, and then,
+since I followed her here, attempted to poison me."
+
+"There is," Passmore said, "a good deal of evidence to that effect."
+
+"Here," Mr. Sabin said, handing him Duson's letter, "is some
+evidence to the contrary."
+
+Passmore read the letter carefully.
+
+"You believe this," he asked, "to be genuine?"
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled.
+
+"I am sure of it!"  he answered.
+
+"You recognise the handwriting?"
+
+"Certainly!"
+
+"And this came into your possession--how?"
+
+"I found it on the table by Duson's side."
+
+"You intend to produce it at the inquest?"
+
+"I think not," Mr. Sabin answered.
+
+There was a short silence.  Passmore was revolving a certain matter
+in his mind--thinking hard.  Mr. Sabin was apparently trying to
+make rings of the blue smoke from his cigarette.
+
+"Has it occurred to you," Passmore asked, "to wonder for what reason
+your wife visited these rooms on the morning of Duson's death?"
+
+Mr. Sabin shook his head.
+
+"I cannot say that it has."
+
+"She knew that you were not here," Passmore continued.  "She left
+no message.  She came closely veiled and departed unrecognised."
+Mr. Sabin nodded.
+
+"There were reasons," he said, "for that.  But when you say that
+she left no message you are mistaken."
+
+Passmore nodded.
+
+"Go on," he said.
+
+Mr. Sabin nodded towards a great vase of La France roses upon a
+side table.
+
+"I found these here on my return," he said, "and attached to them
+the card which I believe is still there.  Go and look at it."
+
+Passmore rose and bent over the fragrant blossoms.  The card still
+remained, and on the back of it, in a delicate feminine handwriting:
+
+                            "For my husband,
+                            "with love from
+                               "Lucille."
+
+
+Mr. Passmore shrugged his shoulders.  He had not the vice of
+obstinacy, and he knew when to abandon a theory.
+
+"I am corrected," he said.  "In any case, a mystery remains as well
+worth solving.  Who are these people at whose instigation Duson was
+to have murdered you--these people whom Duson feared so much that
+suicide was his only alternative to obeying their behests?"
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled faintly.
+
+"Ah, my dear Passmore," he said, "you must not ask me that question.
+I can only answer you in this way.  If you wish to make the biggest
+sensation which has ever been created in the criminal world, to
+render yourself immortal, and your fame imperishable--find out!  I
+may not help you, I doubt whether you will find any to help you. But
+if you want excitement, the excitement of a dangerous chase after
+a tremendous quarry, take your life in your hands, go in and win."
+
+Passmore's withered little face lit up with a gleam of rare
+excitement.
+
+"These are your enemies, sir," he said.  "They have attempted your
+life once, they may do it again.  Assume the offensive yourself.
+Give me a hint."
+
+Mr. Sabin shook his head.
+
+"That I cannot do," he said.  "I have saved you from wasting your
+time on a false scent.  I have given you something definite to work
+upon.  Further than that I can do nothing."
+
+Passmore looked his disappointment, but he knew Mr. Sabin better
+than to argue the matter.
+
+"You will not even produce that letter at the inquest?" he asked.
+
+"Not even that," Mr. Sabin answered.
+
+Passmore rose to his feet.
+
+"You must remember," he said, "that supposing any one else stumbles
+upon the same trail as I have been pursuing, and suspicion is
+afterwards directed towards madame, your not producing that letter
+at the inquest will make it useless as evidence in her favour."
+
+"I have considered all these things," Mr. Sabin said.  "I shall
+deposit the letter in a safe place.  But its use will never be
+necessary.  You are the only man who might have forced me to produce
+it, and you know the truth."
+
+Passmore rose reluctantly.
+
+"I want you," Mr. Sabin said, "to leave me not only your address,
+but the means of finding you at any moment during the next
+four-and-twenty hours.  I may have some important work for you."
+
+The man smiled as he tore leaf from his pocketbook and a made a
+few notes.
+
+"I shall be glad to take any commission from you, sir," he said.
+"To tell you the truth, I scarcely thought that you would be content
+to sit down and wait."
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled.
+
+"I think," he said, "that very shortly I can find you plenty to do."
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVII
+
+Mr. Sabin a few minutes afterwards ordered his carriage, and was
+driven to Dorset House.  He asked for Lucille, but was shown at once
+into the library, where the Duke was awaiting him.  Then Mr. Sabin
+knew that something had happened.
+
+The Duke extended his hand solemnly.
+
+"My dear Souspennier," he said, "I am glad to see you.  I was in
+fact on the point of despatching a messenger to your hotel."
+
+"I am glad," Mr. Sabin remarked, "that my visit is opportune.  To
+tell you the truth, Duke, I am anxious to see my wife."
+
+The Duke coughed.
+
+"I trust," he said, "that you will not for a moment consider me
+guilty of any discourtesy to the Countess, for whom I have a great
+respect and liking.  But it has come to my knowledge that the
+shelter of my roof and name were being given to proceedings of which
+I heartily disapproved.  I therefore only a few hours ago formally
+broke off all connection with Saxe Leinitzer and his friends, and to
+put the matter plainly, I expelled them from the house."
+
+"I congratulate you heartily, Duke, upon a most sensible proceeding,"
+Mr. Sabin said.  "But in the meantime where is my wife?"
+
+"Your wife was not present at the time," the Duke answered, "and I
+had not the slightest intention of including her in the remarks I
+made.  Whether she understood this or not I cannot say, but I have
+since been given to understand that she left with them."
+
+"How long ago?" Mr. Sabin asked.
+
+"Several hours, I fear," the Duke answered.  "I should like,
+Souspennier, to express to you my regrets that I was ever induced
+to become connected in any way with proceedings which must have
+caused you a great deal of pain.  I beg you to accept my apologies."
+
+"I do not blame you, Duke," Mr. Sabin said.  "My one desire now is
+to wrest my wife away from this gang.  Can you tell me whether she
+left alone or with any of them?"
+
+"I will endeavour to ascertain," the Duke said, ringing the bell.
+
+But before the Duke's somewhat long-winded series of questions had
+gone very far Mr. Sabin grasped the fact that the servants had
+been tampered with.  Without wasting any more time he took a
+somewhat hurried leave and drove back to the hotel.  One of the
+hall porters approached him, smiling.
+
+"There is a lady waiting for you in your rooms, sir," he announced.
+"She arrived a few minutes ago."
+
+Mr. Sabin rang for the elevator, got out at his floor and walked
+down the corridor, leaning a little more heavily than usual upon
+his stick.  If indeed it were Lucille who had braved all and come
+to him the way before them might still be smooth sailing.  He
+would never let her go again.  He was sure of that.  They would
+leave England--yes, there was time still to catch the five o'clock
+train.  He turned the handle of his door and entered.  A familiar
+figure rose from the depths of his easy-chair.  Her hat lay on the
+table, her jacket was open, one of his cigarettes was between her
+lips.  But it was not Lucille.
+
+"Lady Carey!"  he said slowly.  "This is an unexpected pleasure.
+Have you brought Lucille with you?"
+
+"I am afraid," she answered, "that I have no ropes strong enough."
+
+"You insinuate," he remarked, "that Lucille would be unwilling to
+come."
+
+"There is no longer any need," she declared, with a hard little
+laugh, "for insinuations.  We have all been turned out from Dorset
+House neck and crop.  Lucille has accepted the inevitable.  She has
+gone to Reginald's Brott's rooms."
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled.
+
+"Indeed.  I have just come from Dorset House myself.  The Duke has
+supplied me with a highly entertaining account of his sudden
+awakening.  The situation must have been humorous."
+
+Her eyes twinkled.
+
+"It was really screamingly funny.  The Duke had on his house of
+Lords manner, and we all sat round like a lot of naughty children.
+If only you had been there."
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled.  Suddenly she laid her hand upon his arm.
+
+"Victor," she said, "I have come to prove that I am your friend.
+You do not believe that Lucille is with Reginald Brott.  It is true!
+Not only that, but she is leaving England with him to-night.  The
+man's devotion is irresistible--he has been gaining on her slowly
+but surely all the time."
+
+"I have noticed," Mr. Sabin remarked calmly, "that he has been
+wonderfully assiduous.  I am sure I congratulate him upon his
+success, if he has succeeded."
+
+"You doubt my word of course," she said.  "But I have not come here
+to tell you things.  I have come to prove them.  I presume that what
+you see with your own eyes will be sufficient."
+
+Mr. Sabin shook his head.
+
+"Certainly not," he answered.  "I make it a rule to believe nothing
+that I see, and never to trust my ears."
+
+She stamped her foot lightly upon the floor.
+
+"How impossible you are," she exclaimed.  "I can tell you by what
+train Lucille and Reginald Brott will leave London to-night.  I can
+tell you why Lucille is bound to go."
+
+"Now," Mr. Sabin said, "you are beginning to get interesting."
+
+"Lucille must go--or run the risk of arrest for complicity in the
+murder of Duson."
+
+"Are you serious?" Mr. Sabin asked, with admirably assumed gravity.
+
+"Is it a jesting matter?" she answered fiercely.  "Lucille bought
+poison, the same poison which it will be proved that Duson died of.
+She came here, she was the last person to enter your room before
+Duson was found dead.  The police are even now searching for her.
+Escape is her only chance."
+
+"Dear me," Mr. Sabin said.  "Then it is not only for Brott's sake
+that she is running away."
+
+"What does that matter?  She is going, and she is going with him."
+
+"And why," he asked, "do you come to give me warning? I have plenty
+of time to interpose."
+
+"You can try if you will.  Lucille is in hiding.  She will not see
+you if you go to her.  She is determined.  Indeed, she has no
+choice.  Lucille is a brave woman in many ways, but you know that
+she fears death.  She is in a corner.  She is forced to go."
+
+"Again," he said, "I feel that I must ask you why do you give me
+warning?"
+
+She came and stood close to him.
+
+"Perhaps," she said earnestly, "I am anxious to earn your gratitude.
+Perhaps, too, I know that no interposition of yours would be of any
+avail."
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled.
+
+"Still," he said, "I do not think that it is wise of you.  I might
+appear at the station and forcibly prevent Lucille's departure.
+After all, she is my wife, you know."
+
+She shrugged her shoulders.
+
+"I am not afraid," she said.  "You will make inquiries when I have
+gone, and you will find out that I have spoken the truth.  If you
+keep Lucille in England you will expose her to a terrible risk.  It
+is not like you to be selfish.  You will yield to necessity."
+
+"Will you tell me where Lucille is now?" he asked.
+
+"For your own sake and hers, no," she answered.  "You also are
+watched.  Besides, it is too late.  She was with Brott half an hour
+after the Duke turned us out of Dorset House.  Don't you understand,
+Victor--won't you?  It is too late."
+
+He sat down heavily in his easy-chair.  His whole appearance was
+one of absolute dejection.
+
+"So I am to be left alone in my old age," he murmured.  "You have
+your revenge now at last.  You have come to take it."
+
+She sank on her knees by the side of his chair, and her arms fell
+upon his shoulders.
+
+"How can you think so cruelly of me, Victor," she murmured.  "You
+were always a little mistaken in Lucille.  She loved you, it is
+true, but all her life she has been fond of change and excitement.
+She came to Europe willingly--long before this Brott would have
+been her slave save for your reappearance.  Can't you forget her
+--for a little while?"
+
+Mr. Sabin sat quite still.  Her hair brushed his cheeks, her arms
+were about his neck, her whole attitude was an invitation for his
+embrace.  But he sat like a figure of stone, neither repulsing nor
+encouraging her.
+
+"You need not be alone unless you like," she whispered.
+
+"I am an old man," he said slowly, "and this is a hard blow for me
+to bear.  I must be sure, absolutely sure that she has gone."
+
+"By this time to-morrow," she murmured, "all the world will know it."
+
+"Come to me then," he said.  "I shall need consolation."
+
+Her eyes were bright with triumph.  She leaned over him and kissed
+him on the lips.  Then she sprang lightly to her feet.
+
+"Wait here for me," she said, "and I will come to you.  You shall
+know, Victor, that Lucille is not the only woman in the world who
+has cared for you."
+
+There was a tap at the door.  Lady Carey was busy adjusting her
+hat.  Passmore entered, and stood hesitating upon the threshold.
+Mr. Sabin had risen to his feet.  He took one of her hands and
+raised it to his lips.  She gave him a swift, wonderful look and
+passed out.
+
+Mr. Sabin's manner changed as though by magic.  He was at once
+alert and vigorous.
+
+"My dear Passmore," he said, "come to the table.  We shall want
+those Continental time-tables and the London A.B.C.  You will have
+to take a journey to-night."
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVIII
+
+The two women were alone in the morning-room of Lady Carey's house
+in Pont Street.  Lucille was walking restlessly up and down twisting
+her handkerchief between her fingers.  Lady Carey was watching her,
+more composed, to all outward appearance, but with closely compressed
+lips, and boding gleam in her eyes.
+
+"I think," Lady Carey said, "that you had better see him."
+
+Lucille turned almost fiercely upon her.
+
+"And why?"
+
+"Well, for one thing he will not understand your refusal.  He may
+be suspicious."
+
+"What does it matter? I have finished with him.  I have done all
+that I pledged myself to.  What more can be expected of me?  I do
+not wish to see him again."
+
+Lady Carey laughed.
+
+"At least," she said, "I think that the poor man has a right to
+receive his cong� from you.  You cannot break with him without a
+word of explanation.  Perhaps--you may not find it so easy as it
+seems."
+
+Lucille swept around.
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+Lady Carey shrugged her shoulders.
+
+"You are in a curious mood, my dear Lucille.  What I mean is obvious
+enough.  Brott is a strong man and a determined man.  I do not think
+that he will enjoy being made a fool of."
+
+Lucille was indifferent.
+
+"At any rate," she said, "I shall not see him.  I have quite made
+up my mind about that."
+
+"And why not, Countess?" a deep voice asked from the threshold.
+"What have I done?  May I not at least know my fault?"
+
+Lady Carey rose and moved towards the door.
+
+"You shall have it out between yourselves," she declared, looking
+up, and nodding at Brott as she passed.  "Don't fight!"
+
+"Muriel!"
+
+The cry was imperative, but Lady Carey had gone.  Mr. Brott closed
+the door behind him and confronted Lucille.  A brilliant spot of
+colour flared in her pale cheeks.
+
+"But this is a trap!"  she exclaimed.  "Who sent for you?  Why did
+you come?"
+
+He looked at her in surprise.
+
+"Lucille!"
+
+His eyes were full of passionate remonstrance.  She looked nervously
+from him towards the door.  He intercepted her glance.
+
+"What have I done?" he asked fiercely.  "What have I failed to do?
+Why do you look as though I had forced myself upon you?  Haven't I
+the right?  Don't you wish to see me?"
+
+In Brott's face and tone was all the passionate strenuousness of a
+great crisis.  Lucille felt suddenly helpless before the directness
+of his gaze, his storm of questions.  In all their former intercourse
+it had been she who by virtue of her sex and his blind love for her
+had kept the upper hand.  And now the position was changed.  All
+sorts of feeble explanations, of appeals to him, occurred to her
+dimly, only to be rejected by reason of their ridiculous inadequacy.
+She was silent-abjectly silent.
+
+He came a little closer to her, and the strength of the man was
+manifest in his intense self-restraint.  His words were measured,
+his tone quiet.  Yet both somehow gave evidence of the smouldering
+fires beneath.
+
+"Lucille," he said, "I find you hard to understand to-day.  You
+have made me your slave, you came once more into my life at its
+most critical moment, and for your sake I have betrayed a great
+trust.  My conscience, my faith, and although that counts for
+little, my political career, were in the balance against my love
+for you.  You know which conquered.  At your bidding I have made
+myself the jest of every man who buys the halfpenny paper and
+calls himself a politician.  My friends heap abuse upon me, my
+enemies derision.  I cannot hold my position in this new Cabinet.
+I had gone too far for compromise.  I wonder if you quite
+understand what has happened?"
+
+"Oh, I have heard too much," she cried.  "Spare me the rest."
+
+He continued as though he had not heard her.
+
+"Men who have been my intimate associates for many years, and whose
+friendship was dear to me, cross the road to avoid: meeting me, day
+by day I am besieged with visitors and letters from the suffering
+people to whom my word had been pledged, imploring me for some
+explanation, for one word of denial.  Life has become a hell for me,
+a pestilent, militant hell!  Yet, Lucille, unless you break faith
+with me I make no complaint.  I am content."
+
+"I am very sorry," she said.  "I do not think that you have properly
+understood me.  I have never made you any promise."
+
+For a moment he lost control of himself.  She shrank back at the
+blaze of indignation, half scornful, half incredulous, which lit up
+his clear, grey eyes.
+
+"It is a lie!" he answered.  "Between you and me it can be no
+question of words.  You were always very careful of your pledges,
+but there are limits even to your caution--as to my forbearance.
+A woman does not ask a man who is pleading to her for her love to
+give up everything else he cares for in life without hope of reward.
+It is monstrous!  I never sought you under false pretenses.  I never
+asked you for your friendship.  I wanted you.  I told you so plainly.
+You won't deny that you gave me hope--encouraged me?  You can't
+even deny that I am within my rights if I claim now at this instant
+the reward for my apostasy."
+
+Her hands were suddenly locked in his.  She felt herself being drawn
+into his arms.  With a desperate effort she avoided his embrace.  He
+still held her left wrist, and his face was dark with passion.
+
+"Let me go!"  she pleaded.
+
+"Not I!"  he answered, with an odd, choked little laugh.  "You
+belong to me.  I have paid the price.  I, too, am amongst the long
+list of those poor fools who have sold their gods and their honour
+for a woman's kiss.   But I will not be left wholly destitute.  You
+shall pay me for what I have lost."
+
+"Oh, you are mad!"  she answered.  "How could you have deceived
+yourself so?  Don't you know that my husband is in London?"
+
+"The man who calls himself Mr. Sabin?" he answered roughly.  "What
+has that to do with it?  You are living apart.  Saxe Leinitzer and
+the Duchess have both told me the history of your married life.  Or
+is the whole thing a monstrous lie?" he cried, with a sudden dawning
+sense of the truth.  "Nonsense!  I won't believe it.  Lucille!
+You're not afraid!  I shall be good to you.  You don't doubt that.
+Sabin will divorce you of course.  You won't lose your friends. I--"
+
+There was a sudden loud tapping at the door.  Brott dropped her
+wrist and turned round with an exclamation of anger.  To Lucille it
+was a Heaven-sent interposition.  The Prince entered, pale, and
+with signs of hurry and disorder about his usually immaculate person.
+
+"You are both here," he exclaimed.  "Good!  Lucille, I must speak
+with you urgently in five minutes.  Brott, come this way with me."
+
+Lucille sank into a chair with a little murmur of relief.  The
+Prince led Brott into another room, and closed the door carefully
+behind him.
+
+"Mr. Brott," he said, "can I speak to you as a friend of Lucille's?"
+
+Brott, who distrusted the Prince, looked him steadily in the face.
+Saxe Leinitzer's agitation was too apparent to be wholly assumed.
+He had all the appearance of being a man desperately in earnest.
+
+"I have always considered myself one," Brott answered.  "I am
+beginning to doubt, however, whether the Countess holds me in the
+same estimation."
+
+"You found her hysterical, unreasonable, overwrought!"  the Prince
+exclaimed.  "That is so, eh?"
+
+The Prince drew a long breath.
+
+"Brott," he said, "I am forced to confide in you.  Lucille is in
+terrible danger.  I am not sure that there is anybody who can
+effectually help her but you.  Are you prepared to make a great
+sacrifice for her sake--to leave England at once, to take her to
+the uttermost part of the world?"
+
+Brott's eyes were suddenly bright.  The Prince quailed before the
+fierceness of his gaze.
+
+"She would not go!"  he exclaimed sharply.
+
+"She will," the Prince answered.  "She must!  Not only that, but
+you will earn her eternal gratitude.  Listen, I must tell you the
+predicament in which we find ourselves.  It places Lucille's life
+in your hands."
+
+"What?"
+
+The exclamation came like a pistol shot.  The Prince held up his
+hand.
+
+"Do not interrupt.  Let me speak.  Every moment is very valuable.
+You heard without doubt of the sudden death at the Carlton Hotel.
+It took place in Mr. Sabin's sitting-room.  The victim was Mr.
+Sabin's servant.  The inquest was this afternoon.  The verdict was
+death from the effect of poison.  The police are hot upon the case.
+There was no evidence as to the person by whom the poison was
+administered, but by a hideous combination of circumstances one
+person before many hours have passed will be under the surveillance
+of the police."
+
+"And that person?" Brott asked.
+
+The Prince looked round and lowered his voice, although the room
+was empty.
+
+"Lucille," he whispered hoarsely.
+
+Brott stepped backwards as though he were shot.
+
+"What damned folly!"  he exclaimed.
+
+"It is possible that you may not think so directly," Saxe Leinitzer
+continued.  "The day it happened Lucille bought this same poison,
+and it is a rare one, from a man who has absconded.  An hour before
+this man was found dead, she called at the hotel, left no name, but
+went upstairs to Mr. Sabin's room, and was alone there for five
+minutes, The man died from a single grain of poison which had been
+introduced into Mr. Sabin's special liqueur glass, out of which he
+was accustomed to drink three or four times a day.  All these are
+absolute facts, which at any moment may be discovered by the police.
+Added to that she is living apart from her husband, and is known to
+be on bad terms with him."
+
+Brott as gripping the back of a chair.  He was white to the lips.
+
+"You don't think," he cried hoarsely.  "You can't believe--"
+
+"No" the Prince answered quickly, "I don't believe anything of the
+sort.  I will tell you as man to man that I believe she wished Mr.
+Sabin dead.  You yourself should know why.  But no, I don't believe
+she went so far as that.  It was an accident.  But what we have to
+do is to save her.  Will you help?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"She must cross to the Continent to-night before the police get on
+the scent.  Afterwards she must double back to Havre and take the
+Bordlaise for New York on Saturday.  Once there I can guarantee her
+protection."
+
+"Well?"
+
+"She cannot go alone."
+
+"You mean that I should go with her?"
+
+"Yes!  Get her right away, and I will employ special detectives and
+have the matter cleared up, if ever it can be.  But if she remains
+here I fear that nothing can save her from the horror of an arrest,
+even if afterwards we are able to save her.  You yourself risk much,
+Brott.  The only question that remains is, will you do it?"
+
+"At her bidding--yes!"  Brott declared.
+
+"Wait here," the Prince answered.
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIX
+
+Saxe Leinitzer returned to the morning-room, and taking the key
+from his pocket unlocked the door.  Inside Lucille was pale with
+fury.
+
+"What!  I am a prisoner, then!"  she exclaimed.  "How dare you
+lock me in?  This is not your house.  Let me pass!  I am tired of
+all this stupid espionage."
+
+The Prince stood with his back to the door.
+
+"It is for your own sake, Lucille.  The house is watched."
+
+She sank into a low chair, trembling.  The Prince had all the
+appearance of a man himself seriously disturbed.
+
+"Lucille," he said, "we will do what we can for you.  The whole
+thing is horribly unfortunate.  You must leave England to-night.
+Muriel will go with you.  Her presence will help to divert suspicion.
+Once you can reach Paris I can assure you of safety.  But in this
+country I am almost powerless."
+
+"I must see Victor," she said in a low tone.  "I will not go
+without."
+
+The Prince nodded.
+
+"I have thought of that.  There is no reason, Lucille, why he should
+not be the one to lead you into safety."
+
+"You mean that?" she cried.
+
+"I mean it," the Prince answered.  "After what has happened you are
+of course of no further use to us.  I am inclined to think, too,
+that we have been somewhat exacting.  I will send a messenger to
+Souspennier to meet you at Charing Cross to-night."
+
+She sprang up.
+
+"Let me write it myself."
+
+"Very well," he agreed, with a shrug of the shoulders.  "But do not
+address or sign it.  There is danger in any communication between
+you."
+
+She took a sheet of note-paper and hastily wrote a few words.
+
+"I have need of your help.  Will you be at Charing Cross at twelve
+o'clock prepared for a journey.--Lucille."
+
+The Prince took the letter from her and hastily folded it up.
+
+"I will deliver it myself," he announced.  "It will perhaps be
+safest.  Until I return, Lucille, do not stir from the house or see
+any one.  Muriel has given the servants orders to admit no one.
+All your life," he added, after a moment's pause, "you have been a
+little cruel to me, and this time also.  I shall pray that you will
+relent before our next meeting."
+
+She rose to her feet and looked him full in the face.  She seemed
+to be following out her own train of thought rather than taking
+note of his words.
+
+"Even now," she said thoughtfully, "I am not sure that I can trust
+you.  I have a good mind to fight or scream my way out of this
+house, and go myself to see Victor."
+
+He shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"The fighting or the screaming will not be necessary, dear
+Countess," he said.  "The doors are open to you.  But it is as clear
+as day that if you go to the hotel or near it you will at once be
+recognised, and recognition means arrest.  There is a limit beyond
+which one cannot help a wilful woman.  Take your life in your hands
+and go your own way, or trust in us who are doing our best to save
+you."
+
+"And what of Reginald Brott?" she asked.
+
+"Brott?" the Prince repeated impatiently.  "Who cares what becomes
+of him?  You have made him seem a fool, but, Lucille, to tell you
+the truth, I am sorry that we did not leave this country altogether
+alone.  There is not the soil for intrigue here, or the possibility.
+Then, too, the police service is too stolid, too inaccessible.  And
+even our friends, for whose aid we are here--well, you heard the
+Duke.  The cast-iron Saxon idiocy of the man.  The aristocracy here
+are what they call bucolic.  It is their own fault.  They have
+intermarried with parvenus and Americans for generations.  They are
+a race by themselves.  We others may shake ourselves free from them.
+I would work in any country of the globe for the good of our cause,
+but never again in England."
+
+Lucille shivered a little.
+
+"I am not in the humour for argument," she declared.  "If you would
+earn my gratitude take that note to my husband.  He is the only man
+I feel sure of--whom I know can protect me."
+
+The Prince bowed low.
+
+"It is our farewell, Countess," he said.
+
+"I cannot pretend," she answered, "to regret it."
+
+Saxe Leinitzer left the room.  There was a peculiar smile upon his
+lips as he crossed the hall.  Brott was still awaiting for him.
+
+"Mr. Brott," he said, "the Countess is, as I feared, too agitated
+to see you again for the present, or any one else.  She sends you,
+however, this message."
+
+He took the folded paper from his waistcoat pocket and handed it
+to the other man.  Brott read it through eagerly.  His eyes shone.
+
+"She accepts the situation, then?" he exclaimed.
+
+"Precisely!  Will you pardon me, my friend, if I venture upon one
+other word.  Lucille is not an ordinary woman.  She is not in the
+least like the majority of her sex, especially, I might add, amongst
+us.  The fact that her husband was living would seriously influence
+her consideration of any other man--as her lover.  The present
+crisis, however, has changed everything.  I do not think that you
+will have cause to complain of her lack of gratitude."
+
+Brott walked out into the streets with the half sheet of note-paper
+twisted up between his fingers.  For the first time for months he
+was conscious of a distinct and vivid sense of happiness.  The
+terrible period of indecision was past.  He knew now where he stood.
+Nor was his immediate departure from England altogether unpleasant
+to him.  His political career was shattered--friends and enemies
+were alike cold to him.  Such an act of cowardice as his, such
+pitiful shrinking back at the last fateful moment, was inexplicable
+and revolting.  Even Letheringham was barely civil.  It was certain
+that his place in the Cabinet would be intolerable.  He yearned for
+escape from it all, and the means of escape were now at hand.  In
+after years he knew very well that the shadow of his broken trust,
+the torture of his misused opportunities, would stand for ever
+between him and the light.  But at that moment he was able to clear
+his mind of all such disquieting thoughts.  He had won Lucille
+--never mind at what cost, at what peril!  He had won Lucille!
+
+He was deeply engrossed, and his name was spoken twice in his ear
+before he turned round.  A small, somewhat shabby-looking man, with
+tired eyes and more than a day's growth of beard upon his chin, had
+accosted him.
+
+"Mr. Brott, sir.  A word with you, please."
+
+Brott held out his hand.  Nevertheless his tone when he spoke lacked
+heartiness.
+
+"You, Hedley!  Why, what brings you to London?"
+
+The little man did not seem to see the hand.  At any rate he made
+no motion to take it.
+
+"A few minutes' chat with Mr. Brott.  That's what I've come for."
+
+Brott raised his eyebrows, and nodded in somewhat constrained
+fashion.
+
+"Well," he said, "I am on my way to my rooms.  We can talk as we
+go, if you like.  I am afraid the good people up in your part of
+the world are not too well pleased with me."
+
+The little man smiled rather queerly.
+
+"That is quite true," he answered calmly.  "They hate a liar and
+a turn-coat.  So do I!"
+
+Brott stopped short upon the pavement.
+
+"If you are going to talk like that to me, Hedley," he said, "the
+less you have to say the better."
+
+The man nodded.
+
+"Very well," he said.  "What I have to say won't take me very long.
+But as I've tramped most of the way up here to say it, you'll have
+to listen here or somewhere else.  I thought you were always one who
+liked the truth."
+
+"So I do!"  Brott answered.  "Go on!"
+
+The man shuffled along by his side.  They were an odd-looking pair,
+for Brott was rather a careful man as regards his toilet, and his
+companion looked little better than a tramp.
+
+"All my life," he continued, "I've been called 'Mad Hedley,' or
+'Hedley, the mad tailor.'  Sometimes one and sometimes the other.
+It don't matter which.  There's truth in, it.  I am a bit mad.  You,
+Mr. Brott, were one of those who understood me a little.  I have
+brooded a good deal perhaps, and things have got muddled up in my
+brain.  You know what has been at the bottom of it all.
+
+"I began making speeches when I was a boy.  People laughed at me,
+but I've set many a one a-thinking.  I'm no anarchist, although
+people call me one.  I'll admit that I admire the men who set the
+French Revolution going.  If such a thing happened in this country
+I'd be one of the first to join in.  But I've never had a taste
+for bloodshed.  I'd rather the thing had been done without.  From
+the first you seemed to be the man who might have brought it about.
+We listened to you, we watched your career, and we began to have
+hopes.  Mr. Brott, the bodies and souls of millions of your
+fellow-creatures were in the hollow of your hand.  It was you who
+might have set them free.  It was you who might have made this the
+greatest, the freest, the happiest country in the world.  Not so
+much for us perhaps as for our children, and our children's children.
+We didn't expect a huge social upheaval in a week, or even a decade
+of years.  But we did expect to see the first blow struck.  Oh, yes,
+we expected that."
+
+"I have disappointed you, I know, you and many others," Brott said
+bitterly.  "I wish I could explain.  But I can't!"
+
+"Oh, it doesn't matter," the man answered.  "You have broken the
+hearts of thousands of suffering men and women--you who might have
+led them into the light, have forged another bolt in the bars which
+stand between them and liberty.  So they must live on in the
+darkness, dull, dumb creatures with just spirit enough to spit and
+curse at the sound of your name.  It was the greatest trust God
+ever placed in one man's hand--and you--you abused it.  They were
+afraid of you--the aristocrats, and they bought you.  Oh, we are
+not blind up there--there are newspapers in our public houses, and
+now and then one can afford a half-penny.  We have read of you at
+their parties and their dances.  Quite one of them you have become,
+haven't you?  But, Mr. Brott, have you never been afraid?  Have you
+never said to yourself, there is justice in the earth? Suppose it
+finds me out?"
+
+"Hedley, you are talking rubbish," Brott said.  "Up here you would
+see things with different eyes.  Letheringham is pledged."
+
+"If any man ever earned hell," Hedley continued, "it is you, Brott,
+you who came to us a deliverer, and turned out to be a lying prophet.
+'Hell,'" he repeated fiercely, "and may you find it swiftly."
+
+The man's right hand came out of his long pocket.  They were in the
+thick of Piccadilly, but his action was too swift for any
+interference.  Four reports rang suddenly out, and the muzzle of
+the revolver was held deliberately within an inch or so of Brett's
+heart.  And before even the nearest of the bystanders could realise
+what had happened Brott lay across the pavement a dead man, and
+Hedley was calmly handing over the revolver to a policeman who had
+sprang across the street.
+
+"Be careful, officer," he said, "there are still two chambers loaded.
+I will come with you quite quietly.  That is Mr. Reginald Brott, the
+Cabinet Minister, and I have killed him."
+
+
+CHAPTER XL
+
+"For once," Lady Carey said, with a faint smile, "your 'admirable
+Crichton' has failed you."
+
+Lucille opened her eyes.  She had been leaning back amongst the
+railway cushions.
+
+"I think not," she said.  "Only I blame myself that I ever trusted
+the Prince even so far as to give him that message.  For I know
+very well that if Victor had received it he would have been here."
+
+Lady Carey took up a great pile of papers and looked them carelessly
+through.
+
+"I am afraid," she said, "that I do not agree with you.  I do not
+think that Saxe Leinitzer had any desire except to see you safely
+away.  I believe that he will be quite as disappointed as you are
+that your husband is not here to aid you.  Some one must see you
+safely on the steamer at Havre.  Perhaps he will come himself."
+
+"I shall wait in Paris," Lucille said quietly, "for my husband."
+
+"You may wait," Lady Carey said, "for a very long time."
+
+Lucille looked at her steadily.  "What do you mean?"
+
+"What a fool you are, Lucille.  If to other people it seems almost
+certain on the face of it that you were responsible for that drop
+of poison in your husband's liqueur glass, why should it not seem
+so to himself?"
+
+Lucille laughed, but there was a look of horror in her dark eyes.
+
+"How absurd.   I know Victor better than to believe him capable of
+such a suspicion.  Just as he knows me better than to believe me
+capable of such an act."
+
+"Really.  But you were in his rooms secretly just before."
+
+"I went to leave some roses for him," Lucille answered.  "And if
+you would like to know it, I will tell you this.  I left my card
+tied to them with a message for him."
+
+Lady Carey yawned.
+
+"A remarkably foolish thing to do," she said.  "That may cause you
+trouble later on.  Great heavens, what is this?"
+
+She held the evening paper open in her hand.  Lucille leaned over
+with blanched face.
+
+"What has happened?" she cried.  "Tell me, can't you!"
+
+"Reginald Brott has been shot in Piccadilly," Lady Carey said.
+
+"Is he hurt?" Lucille asked.
+
+"He is dead!"
+
+They read the brief announcement together.  The deed had been
+committed by a man whose reputation for sanity had long been
+questioned, one of Brott's own constituents.  He was in custody,
+and freely admitted his guilt.  The two women looked at one another
+in horror.  Even Lady Carey was affected.
+
+"What a hateful thing," she said.  "I am glad that we had no hand
+in it."
+
+"Are you so sure that we hadn't?" Lucille asked bitterly.  "You see
+what it says.  The man killed him because of his political apostasy.
+We had something to do with that at least."
+
+Lady Carey was recovering her sang froid.
+
+"Oh, well," she said, "indirect influences scarcely count, or one
+might trace the causes of everything which happens back to an absurd
+extent.  If this man was mad he might just as well have shot Brott
+for anything."
+
+Lucille made no answer.  She leaned back and closed her eyes.  She
+did not speak again till they reached Dover.
+
+They embarked in the drizzling rain.  Lady Carey drew a little
+breath of relief as they reached their cabin, and felt the boat
+move beneath them.
+
+"Thank goodness that we are really off.  I have been horribly
+nervous all the time.  If they let you leave England they can have
+no suspicion as yet."
+
+Lucille was putting on an ulster and cap to go out on deck.
+
+"I am not at all sure," she said, "that I shall not return to
+England.  At any rate, if Victor does not come to me in Paris I
+shall go to him."
+
+"What beautiful trust!" Lady Carey answered.  "My dear Lucille, you
+are more like a school-girl than a woman of the world."
+
+
+A steward entered with a telegram for Lucille.  It was banded in at
+the Haymarket, an hour before their departure.  Lucille read it, and
+her face blanched.  "I thank you for your invitation, but I fear
+that it would not be good for my health.--S."
+
+Lady Carey looked over her shoulder.  She laughed hardly.
+
+"How brutal!"  she murmured.  "But, then, Victor can be brutal
+sometimes, can't he?"
+
+Lucille tore it into small pieces without a word.  Lady Carey
+waited for a remark from her in vain.
+
+"I, too," she said at last, "have had some telegrams.  I have been
+hesitating whether to show them to you or not.  Perhaps you had
+better see them."
+
+She produced them and spread them out.  The first was dated about
+the same time as the one Lucille had received.
+
+"Have seen S. with message from Lucille.  Fear quite useless, as
+he believes worst."
+
+The second was a little longer.
+
+"Have just heard S. has left for Liverpool, and has engaged berth in
+Campania, sailing to-morrow.  Break news to Lucille if you think well.
+Have wired him begging return, and promising full explanation."
+
+"If these," Lucille said calmly, "belonged to me I should treat them
+as I have my own."
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"I should tear them up."
+
+Lady Carey shrugged her shoulders with the air of one who finds
+further argument hopeless.
+
+"I shall have no more to say to you, Lucille, on this subject," she
+said.  "You are impossible.  In a few days you will be forced to
+come round to my point of view.  I will wait till then.  And in the
+meantime, if you think I am going to tramp up and down those sloppy
+decks and gaze at the sea you are very much mistaken.  I am going
+to lie down like a civilized being, and try and get a nap.  You had
+better do the same."
+
+Lucille laughed.
+
+"For my part," she said, "I find any part of the steamer except the
+deck intolerable.  I am going now in search of some fresh air.
+Shall I send your woman along?"
+
+Lady Carey nodded, for just then the steamer gave a violent lurch,
+and she was not feeling talkative.  Lucille went outside and walked
+up and down until the lights of Calais were in sight.  All the time
+she felt conscious of the observation of a small man clad in a huge
+mackintosh, whose peaked cap completely obscured his features.  As
+they were entering the harbour she purposely stood by his side.  He
+held on to the rail with one hand and turned towards her.
+
+"It has been quite a rough passage, has it not?" he remarked.
+
+She nodded.
+
+"I have crossed," she said, "when it has been much worse.  I do not
+mind so long as one may come on deck."
+
+"Your friend," he remarked, "is perhaps not so good a sailor?"
+
+"I believe," Lucille said, "that she suffers a great deal.  I just
+looked in at her, and she was certainly uncomfortable."
+
+The little man gripped the rail and held on to his cap with the
+other hand.
+
+"You are going to Paris?" he asked.
+
+Lucille nodded.
+
+"Yes."
+
+They were in smoother water now.  He was able to relax his grip of
+the rail.  He turned towards Lucille, and she saw him for the first
+time distinctly--a thin, wizened-up little man, with shrewd kindly
+eyes, and a long deeply cut mouth.
+
+"I trust," he said, "that you will not think me impertinent, but it
+occurred to me that you have noticed some apparent interest of mine
+in your movements since you arrived on the boat."
+
+Lucille nodded.
+
+"It is true," she answered.  "That is why I came and stood by your
+side.  What do you want with me?"
+
+"Nothing, madam," he answered.  "I am here altogether in your
+interests.  If you should want help I shall be somewhere near you
+for the next few hours.  Do not hesitate to appeal to me.  My
+mission here is to be your protector should you need one."
+
+Lucille's eyes grew bright, and her heart beat quickly.
+
+"Tell me," she said, "who sent you?"
+
+He smiled.
+
+"I think that you know," he answered.  "One who I can assure you
+will never allow you to suffer any harm.  I have exceeded my
+instructions in speaking to you, but I fancied that you were looking
+worried.  You need not.  I can assure you that you need have no
+cause."
+
+Her eyes filled with tears.
+
+"I knew," she said, "that those telegrams were forgeries."
+
+He looked carefully around.
+
+"I know nothing about any telegrams," he said, "but I am here to
+see that no harm comes to you, and I promise you that it shall not.
+Your friend is looking out of the cabin door.  I think we may
+congratulate ourselves, madam, on an excellent passage."
+
+Lady Carey disembarked, a complete wreck, leaning on the arm of her
+maid, and with a bottle of smelling salts clutched in her hand.  She
+slept all the way in the train, and only woke up when they were
+nearing Paris.  She looked at Lucille in astonishment.
+
+"Why, what on earth have you been doing to yourself?" she exclaimed.
+"You look disgustingly fit and well."
+
+Lucille laughed softly.
+
+"Why not? I have had a nap, and we are almost at Paris.  I only
+want a bath and a change of clothes to feel perfectly fresh."
+
+But Lady Carey was suspicious.
+
+"Have you seen any one you know upon the train?" she asked.
+
+Lucille shook her head.
+
+"Not a soul.  A little man whom I spoke to on the steamer brought
+me some coffee.  That is all."
+
+Lady Carey yawned and shook out her skirts.  "I suppose I'm getting
+old," she said.  "I couldn't look as you do with as much on my mind
+as you must have, and after traveling all night too."
+
+Lucille laughed.
+
+"After all," she said, "you know that I am a professional optimist,
+and I have faith in my luck.  I have been thinking matters over
+calmly, and, to tell you the truth, I am not in the least alarmed."
+
+Lady Carey looked at her curiously.
+
+"Has the optimism been imbibed," she asked, "or is it spontaneous?"
+
+Lucille smiled.
+
+"Unless the little man in the plaid mackintosh poured it into the
+coffee with the milk," she said, "I could not possibly have imbibed
+it, for I haven't spoken to another soul since we left."
+
+"Paris!  Here we are, thank goodness.  Celeste can see the things
+through the customs.  She is quite used to it.  We are going to the
+Ritz, I suppose!"
+
+
+CHAPTER XLI
+
+At eight o'clock in the evening Lucille knocked at the door of
+Lady Carey's  suite of rooms at the hotel.  There was no answer.
+A chambermaid who was near came smiling up.
+
+"Miladi has, I think, descended for dinner," she said.
+
+Lucille looked at her watch.  She saw that she was a few minutes
+late, so she descended to the restaurant.  The small table which
+they had reserved was, however, still unoccupied.  Lucille told the
+waiter that she would wait for a few moments, and sent for an
+English newspaper.
+
+Lady Carey did not appear.  A quarter of an hour passed.  The head
+waiter came up with a benign smile.
+
+"Madam will please to be served?" he suggested, with a bow.
+
+"I am waiting for my friend Lady Carey," Lucille answered.  "I
+understood that she had come down.  Perhaps you will send and see
+if she is in the reading-room."
+
+"With much pleasure, madam," the man answered.
+
+In a few minutes he returned.
+
+"Madam's friend was the Lady Carey?" he asked.
+
+Lucille nodded.
+
+The man was gently troubled.
+
+"But, Miladi Carey," he said, "has left more than an hour ago."
+
+Lucille looked up, astonished.
+
+"Left the hotel?" she exclaimed.
+
+"But yes, madam," he exclaimed.  "Miladi Carey left to catch the
+boat train at Calais for England."
+
+"It is impossible," Lucille answered.  "We only arrived at midday."
+
+"I will inquire again," the man declared.  "But it was in the office
+that they told me so."
+
+"They told you quite correctly," said a familiar voice.  "I have
+come to take her place.  Countess, I trust that in me you will
+recognise an efficient substitute."
+
+It was the Prince of Saxe Leinitzer who was calmly seating himself
+opposite to her.  The waiter, with the discretion of his class,
+withdrew for a few paces and stood awaiting orders.  Lucille looked
+across at him in amazement.
+
+"You here?" she exclaimed, "and Muriel gone?  What does this mean?"
+
+The Prince leaned forward.
+
+"It means," he said, "that after you left I was in torment.  I felt
+that you had no one with you who could be of assistance supposing
+the worst happened.  Muriel is all very well, but she is a woman,
+and she has no diplomacy, no resource.  I felt, Lucille, that I
+should not be happy unless I myself saw you into safety."
+
+"So you followed us here," Lucille remarked quietly.
+
+"Exactly!  You do not blame me.  It was for your sake--as well as
+my own."
+
+"And Muriel--why has she left me without farewell--without warning
+of any sort?"
+
+The Prince smiled and stroked his fair moustache.
+
+"Well," he said, "it is rather an awkward thing for me to explain,
+but to tell you the truth, Muriel was a little--more than a little
+--annoyed at my coming.  She has no right to be, but--well, you
+know, she is what you call a monopolist.  She and I have been
+friends for many years."
+
+"I understand perfectly what you have wished to convey," Lucille
+said.  "But what I do not understand are the exact reasons which
+brought you here."
+
+The Prince took up the carte de jour.
+
+"As we dine," he said, "I will tell you.  You will permit me to
+order?"
+
+Lucille rose to her feet.
+
+"For yourself, certainly," she answered.  "As for me, I have
+accepted no invitation to dine with you, nor do I propose to do so."
+
+The Prince frowned.
+
+"Be reasonable, Lucille," he pleaded.  "I must talk with you.  There
+are important plans to be made.  I have a great deal to say to you.
+Sit down."
+
+Lucille looked across at him with a curious smile upon her lips.
+
+"You have a good deal to say to me?" she remarked.  "Yes, I will
+believe that.  But of the truth how much, I wonder?"
+
+"By and bye," he said, "you will judge me differently.  For hors
+d'oeuvres what do you say to oeufs de pluvier? Then--"
+
+"Pardon me," she interrupted, "I am not interested in your dinner!"
+
+"In our dinner," he ventured gently.
+
+"I am not dining with you," she declared firmly.  "If you insist
+upon remaining here I shall have something served in my room.  You
+know quite well that we are certain to be recognised.  One would
+imagine that this was a deliberate attempt on your part to
+compromise me."
+
+"Lucille," he said, "do not be foolish!  Why do you persist in
+treating me as though I were your persecutor?"
+
+"Because you are," she said coolly.
+
+"It is ridiculous," he declared.  "You are in the most serious
+danger, and I have come only to save you.  I can do it, and I will.
+But listen--not unless you change your demeanour towards me."
+
+She laughed scornfully.  She had risen to her feet now, and he was
+perforce compelled to follow her example.
+
+"Is that a challenge?" she asked.
+
+"You may take it as such if you will," he answered, with a note of
+sullenness in his tone.  "You know very well that I have but to
+lift my finger and the gendarmes will be here.  Yes, we will call
+it a challenge.  All my life I have wanted you.  Now I think that
+my time has come.  Even Souspennier has deserted you.  You are
+alone, and let me tell you that danger is closer at your heels than
+you know of.  I can save you, and I will.  But I have a price, and
+it must be paid."
+
+"If I refuse?" she asked.
+
+"I send for the chief of the police."
+
+She looked him up and down, a measured, merciless survey.  He was
+a tall, big man, but he seemed to shrink into insignificance.
+
+"You are a coward and a bully," she said slowly.  "You know quite
+well that I am innocent of any knowledge even concerning Duson's
+death.  But I would sooner meet my fate, whatever it might be, than
+suffer even the touch of your fingers upon my hand.  Your presence
+is hateful to me.  Send for your chief of the police.  String your
+lies together as you will.  I am satisfied."
+
+She left him and swept from the room, a spot of colour burning in
+her cheeks, her eyes lit with fire.  The pride of her race had
+asserted itself.  She felt no longer any fear.  She only desired
+to sever herself at once and completely from all association with
+this man.  In the hall she sent for her maid.
+
+"Fetch my cloak and jewel case, Celeste," she ordered.  "I am going
+across to the Bristol.  You can return for the other luggage."
+
+"But, madam--"
+
+"Do as I say at once," Lucille ordered.
+
+The girl hesitated and then obeyed.  Lucille found herself suddenly
+addressed in a quiet tone by a man who had been sitting in an
+easy-chair, half hidden by a palm tree.
+
+"Will you favour me, madam, with a moment's conversation?"
+
+Lucille turned round.  She recognised at once the man with whom she
+had conversed upon the steamer.  In the quietest form of evening
+dress, there was something noticeable in the man's very
+insignificance.  He seemed a little out of his element.  Lucille
+had a sudden inspiration, The man was a detective.
+
+"What do you wish to say?" she asked, half doubtfully.
+
+"I overheard," he remarked, "your order to your maid.  She had
+something to say to you, but you gave her no opportunity."
+
+"And you?" she asked, "what do you wish to say?"
+
+"I wish to advise you," he said, "not to leave the hotel."
+
+She looked at him doubtfully.
+
+"You cannot understand," she said, "why I wish to leave it.  I
+have no alternative."
+
+"Nevertheless," he said, "I hope that you will change your mind."
+
+"Are you a detective?" she asked abruptly.
+
+"Madam is correct!"
+
+The flush of colour faded from her cheeks.
+
+"I presume, then," she said, "that I am under your surveillance?"
+
+"In a sense," he admitted, "it is true."
+
+"On the steamer," she remarked, "you spoke as though your interest
+in me was not inimical."
+
+"Nor is it," he answered promptly.  "You are in a difficult position,
+but you may find things not so bad as you imagine.  At present my
+advice to you is this: Go upstairs to your room and stay there."
+
+The little man had a compelling manner.  Lucille made her way
+towards the elevator.
+
+"As a matter of fact," she murmured bitterly, "I am not, I suppose,
+permitted to leave the hotel?"
+
+"Madam puts the matter bluntly," he answered; "but certainly if
+you should insist upon leaving, it would be my duty to follow you."
+
+She turned away from him and entered the elevator.  The door of
+her room was slightly ajar, and she saw that a waiter was busy at
+a small round table.  She looked at him in surprise.  He was
+arranging places for two.
+
+"Who gave you your orders?" she asked.
+
+"But it was monsieur," the man answered, with a low bow.  "Dinner
+for two."
+
+"Monsieur?" she repeated.  "What monsieur?"
+
+"I am the culprit," a familiar voice answered from the depths of
+an easy-chair, whose back was to her.  "I was very hungry, and it
+occurred to me that under the circumstances you would probably not
+have dined either.  I hope that you will like what I have ordered.
+The plovers' eggs look delicious."
+
+She gave a little cry of joy.  It was Mr. Sabin.
+
+
+CHAPTER XLII
+
+The Prince dined carefully, but with less than his usual appetite.
+Afterwards he lit a cigarette and strolled for a moment into the
+lounge.  Celeste, who was waiting for him, glided at once to his
+side.
+
+"Monsieur!"  she whispered.  "I have been here for one hour."
+
+He nodded.
+
+"Well?"
+
+"Monsieur le Duc has arrived."
+
+The Prince turned sharply round.
+
+"Who?"
+
+"Monsieur le Duc de Souspennier.  He calls himself no longer Mr.
+Sabin."
+
+A dull flush of angry colour rose almost to his temples.
+
+"Why did you not tell me before?" he exclaimed.
+
+"Monsieur was in the restaurant," she answered.  "It was impossible
+for me to do anything but wait."
+
+"Where is he?"
+
+"Alas!  he is with madam," the girl answered.
+
+The Prince was very profane.  He started at once for the elevator.
+In a moment or two he presented himself at Lucille's sitting-room.
+They were still lingering over their dinner.  Mr. Sabin welcomed
+him with grave courtesy.
+
+"The Prince is in time to take his liqueur with us," he remarked,
+rising.  "Will you take fin champagne, Prince, or Chartreuse?  I
+recommend the fin champagne."
+
+The Prince bowed his thanks.  He was white to the lips with the
+effort for self-mastery.
+
+"I congratulate you, Mr. Sabin," he said, "upon your opportune
+arrival.  You will be able to help Lucille through the annoyance
+to which I deeply regret that she should be subjected."
+
+Mr. Sabin gently raised his eyebrows.
+
+"Annoyance!"  he repeated.  "I fear that I do not quite understand."
+
+The Prince smiled.
+
+"Surely Lucille has told you," he said, "of the perilous position
+in which she finds herself."
+
+"My wife," Mr. Sabin said, "has told me nothing.  You alarm me."
+
+The Prince shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"I deeply regret to tell you," he said, "that the law has proved
+too powerful for me.  I can no longer stand between her and what
+I fear may prove a most unpleasant episode.  Lucille will be
+arrested within the hour."
+
+"Upon what charge?" Mr. Sabin asked.
+
+"The murder of Duson."
+
+Mr. Sabin laughed very softly, very gently, but with obvious
+genuineness.
+
+"You are joking, Prince," he exclaimed.
+
+"I regret to say," the Prince answered, "that you will find it very
+far from a joking matter."
+
+Mr. Sabin was suddenly stern.
+
+"Prince of Saxe Leinitzer," he said, "you are a coward and a
+bully."
+
+The Prince started forward with clenched fist.  Mr. Sabin had no
+weapon, but he did not flinch.
+
+"You can frighten women," he said, "with a bogie such as this, but
+you have no longer a woman to deal with.  You and I know that such
+a charge is absurd--but you little know the danger to which you
+expose yourself by trifling with this subject.  Duson left a letter
+addressed to me in which he announced his reasons for committing
+suicide."
+
+"Suicide?"
+
+"Yes.  He preferred suicide to murder, even at the bidding of the
+Prince of Saxe Leinitzer.  He wrote and explained these things to
+me--and the letter is in safe hands.  The arrest of Lucille, my
+dear Prince, would mean the ruin of your amiable society."
+
+"This letter," the Prince said slowly, "why was it not produced at
+the inquest?  Where is it now?"
+
+"It is deposited in a sealed packet with the Earl of Deringham,"
+Mr. Sabin answered.  "As to producing it at the inquest--I thought
+it more discreet not to.  I leave you to judge of my reasons.  But
+I can assure you that your fears for my wife's safety have been
+wholly misplaced.  There is not the slightest reason for her to
+hurry off to America.  We may take a little trip there presently,
+but not just yet."
+
+The Prince made a mistake.  He lost his temper.
+
+"You!"  he cried, "you can go to America when you like, and stay
+there.  Europe has had enough of you with your hare-brained schemes
+and foolish failures.  But Lucille does not leave this country.  We
+have need of her.  I forbid her to leave.  Do you hear?  In the name
+of the Order I command her to remain here."
+
+Mr. Sabin was quite calm, but his face was full of terrible things.
+
+"Prince," he said, "if I by any chance numbered myself amongst your
+friends I would warn you that you yourself are a traitor to your
+Order.  You prostitute a great cause when you stoop to use its
+machinery to assist your own private vengeance.  I ask you for your
+own sake to consider your words.  Lucille is mine--mine she will
+remain, even though you should descend to something more despicable,
+more cowardly than ordinary treason, to wrest her from me.  You
+reproach me with the failures of my life.  Great they may have been,
+but if you attempt this you will find that I am not yet an impotent
+person."
+
+The Prince was white with rage.  The sight of Lucille standing by
+Mr. Sabin's side, her hand lightly resting upon his, her dark eyes
+full of inscrutable tenderness, maddened him.  He was flouted and
+ignored.  He was carried away by a storm of passion.  He tore a
+sheet of paper from his pocket book, and unlocking a small gold
+case at the end of his watch chain, shook from it a pencil with
+yellow crayon.  Mr. Sabin leaned over towards him.
+
+"You sign it at your peril, Prince," he said.  "It will mean worse
+things than that for you."
+
+For a second he hesitated.  Lucille also leaned towards him.
+
+"Prince," she said, "have I not kept my vows faithfully?  Think!
+I came from America at a moment's notice; I left my husband without
+even a word of farewell; I entered upon a hateful task, and though
+to think of it now makes me loathe myself--I succeeded.  I have
+kept my vows, I have done my duty.  Be generous now, and let me go."
+
+The sound of her voice maddened him.  A passionate, arbitrary man,
+to whom nothing in life had been denied, to be baulked in this
+great desire of his latter days was intolerable.  He made no answer
+to either of them.  He wrote a few lines with the yellow crayon
+and passed them silently across to Lucille.
+
+Her face blanched.  She stretched out an unwilling hand.  But Mr.
+Sabin intervened.  He took the paper from the Prince's hand, and
+calmly tore it into fragments.  There was a moment's breathless
+silence.
+
+"Victor!"  Lucille cried.  "Oh, what have you done!"
+
+The Prince's face lightened with an evil joy.
+
+"We now, I think," he said, "understand one another.  You will
+permit me to wish you a very pleasant evening, and a speedy
+leave-taking."
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled.
+
+"Many thanks, my dear Prince," he said lightly.  "Make haste and
+complete your charming little arrangements.  Let me beg of you to
+avoid bungling this time.  Remember that there is not in the whole
+of Europe to-day a man more dangerous to you than I."
+
+The Prince had departed.  Mr. Sabin lit a cigarette and stood on
+the hearthrug.  His eyes were bright with the joy of fighting.
+
+"Lucille," he said, "I see that you have not touched your liqueur.
+Oblige me by drinking it.  You will find it excellent."
+
+She came over to him and hung upon his arm.  He threw his cigarette
+away and kissed her upon the lips.
+
+"Victor," she murmured, "I am afraid.  You have been rash!"
+
+"Dearest," he answered, "it is better to die fighting than to stand
+aside and watch evil things.  But after all, there is no fear.  Come!
+Your cloak and dressing case!"
+
+"You have plans?" she exclaimed, springing up.
+
+"Plans?"  He laughed at her a little reproachfully.  "My dear
+Lucille!  A carriage awaits us outside, a special train with steam
+up at the Gard de L'ouest.  This is precisely the contingency for
+which I have planned."
+
+"Oh, you are wonderful, Victor," she murmured as she drew on her
+coat.  "But what corner of the earth is there where we should be
+safe?"
+
+"I am going," Mr. Sabin said, "to try and make every corner of the
+earth safe."
+
+She was bewildered, but he only laughed and held open the door for
+her.  Mr. Sabin made no secret of his departure.  He lingered for
+a moment in the doorway to light a cigarette, he even stopped to
+whisper a few words to the little man in plain dinner clothes who
+was lounging in the doorway.  But when they had once left the hotel
+they drove fast.
+
+In less than half an hour Paris was behind them.  They were
+traveling in a royal saloon and at a fabuulous cost, for in France
+they are not fond of special trains.  But Mr. Sabin was very happy.
+At least he had escaped an ignominious defeat.  It was left to him
+to play the great card.
+
+"And now," Lucille said, coming out from her little bed-chamber
+which the femme de chambre was busy preparing, "suppose you tell
+me where we are going."
+
+Mr. Sabin smiled.
+
+"Do not be alarmed," he said, "even though it will sound to you the
+least likely place in the world.  We are going to Berlin."
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIII
+
+The great room was dimly enough lit, for the windows looking out
+upon the street were high and heavily curtained, The man who sat
+at the desk was almost in the shadow.  Yet every now and then a
+shaft of sunlight fell across his pale, worn face.  A strange
+combination this of the worker, the idealist, the man of affairs.
+From outside came the hum of a great city.  At times, too, there
+came to his ears as he sat here the roar of nations at strife,
+the fierce underneath battle of the great countries of the world
+struggling for supremacy.  And here at this cabinet this man sat
+often, and listened, strenuous, romantic, with the heart of a lion
+and the lofty imagination of an eagle, he steered unswervingly on
+to her destiny a great people.  Others might rest, but never he.
+
+He looked up from the letter spread out before him.  Lucille was
+seated at his command, a few yards away.  Mr. Sabin stood
+respectfully before him.
+
+"Monsieur le Duc," he said, "this letter, penned by my illustrious
+father to you, is sufficient to secure my good offices.  In what
+manner can I serve you?"
+
+"Your Majesty," Mr. Sabin answered, "in the first place by
+receiving me here.  In the second by allowing me to lay before
+you certain grave and very serious charges against the Order of
+the Yellow Crayon, of which your Majesty is the titular head."
+
+"The Order of the Yellow Crayon," the Emperor said thoughtfully,
+"is society composed of aristocrats pledged to resist the march of
+socialism.  It is true that I am the titular head of this
+organisation.  What have you to say about it?"
+
+"Only that your Majesty has been wholly deceived," Mr. Sabin said
+respectfully, "concerning the methods and the working of this
+society.  Its inception and inauguration were above reproach.  I
+myself at once became a member.  My wife, Countess of Radantz, and
+sole representative of that ancient family, has been one all her
+life."
+
+The Emperor inclined his head towards Lucille.
+
+"I see no reason," he said, "when our capitals are riddled with
+secret societies, all banded together against us, why the great
+families of Europe should not in their turn come together and
+display a united front against this common enemy.  The Order of
+the Yellow Crayon has had more than my support.  It has had the
+sanction of my name.  Tell me what you have against it."
+
+"I have grave things to say concerning it," Mr. Sahin answered,
+"and concerning those who have wilfully deceived your Majesty.
+The influences to be wielded by the society were mainly, I believe,
+wealth, education, and influence.  There was no mention made of
+murder, of an underground alliance with the 'gamins' of Paris, the
+dregs of humanity, prisoners, men skilled in the art of secret
+death."
+
+The Emperor's tone was stern, almost harsh.
+
+"Duc de Souspennier, what are these things which you are saying?"
+he asked.
+
+"Your Majesty, I speak the truth," Mr. Sabin answered firmly.
+"There are in the Order of the Yellow Crayon three degrees of
+membership.  The first, which alone your Majesty knows of, simply
+corresponds with what in England is known as the Primrose League.
+The second knows that beneath is another organisation pledged to
+frustrate the advance of socialism, if necessary by the use of
+their own weapons.  The third, whose meetings and signs and whose
+whole organisation is carried on secretly, is allied in every
+capital in Europe with criminals and murderers.  With its great
+wealth it has influence in America as well as in every city of
+the world where there are police to be suborned, or desperate men
+to be bought for tools.  At the direction of this third order
+Lavinski died suddenly in the Hungarian House of Parliament, Herr
+Krettingen was involved in a duel, the result of which was assured
+beforehand, and Reginald Brott, the great English statesman, was
+ruined and disgraced.  I myself have just narrowly escaped death
+at his hands, and in my place my servant has been driven to death.
+Of all these things, your Majesty, I have brought proofs."
+
+The Emperor's face was like a carven image, but his tone was cold
+and terrible.
+
+"If these things have been sanctioned," he said, "by those who are
+responsible for my having become the head of the Order; they shall
+feel my vengeance."
+
+"Your Majesty," Mr. Sabin said earnestly, "a chance disclosure, and
+all might come to light.  I myself could blazon the story through
+Europe.  Those who are responsible for the third degree of the Order
+of the Yellow Crayon, and for your Majesty's ignorance concerning
+its existence, have trifled with the destiny of the greatest
+sovereign of modern times."
+
+"The Prince of Saxe Leinitzer," the Emperor said, "is the acting
+head of the Order."
+
+"The Prince of Saxe Leinitzer," Mr. Sabin said firmly, "is
+responsible for the existence of the third degree.  It is he who
+has connected the society with a system of corrupt police or
+desperate criminals in every great city.  It is the Prince of Saxe
+Leinitzer, your Majesty, and his horde of murderers from whom I
+have come to seek your Majesty's protection.  I have yet another
+charge to make against him.  He has made, and is making still, use
+of the society to further his own private intrigues.  In the name
+of the Order he brought my wife from America.  She faithfully
+carried out the instructions of the Council.  She brought about
+the ruin of Reginald Brott.  By the rules of the society she was
+free then to return to her home.  The Prince, who had been her
+suitor, declined to let her go.  My life was attempted.  The story
+of the Prince's treason is here, with the necessary proofs.  I
+know that orders have been given to the hired murderers of the
+society for my assassination.  My life even here is probably an
+uncertain thing.  But I have told your Majesty the truth, and the
+papers which I have brought with me contain proof of my words."
+
+The Emperor struck a bell and gave a few orders to the young officer
+who immediately answered it.  Then he turned again to Mr. Sabin.
+
+"I have summoned Saxe Leinitzer to Berlin," he said.  "These matters
+shall be gone into most thoroughly.  In the meantime what can I do
+for you?"
+
+"We will await the coming of the Prince," Mr. Sabin answered grimly.
+
+     *           *           *           *           *
+
+Lady Carey passed from her bath-room into a luxurious little
+dressing-room.  Her letters and coffee were on a small table near
+the fire, an easy-chair was drawn up to the hearthrug.  She fastened
+the girdle of her dressing-gown, and dismissed her maid.
+
+"I will ring for you in half an hour, Annette," she said.  "See that
+I am not disturbed."
+
+On her way to the fireplace she paused for a moment in front of a
+tall looking-glass, and looked steadily at her own reflection.
+
+"I suppose," she murmured to herself, "that I am looking at my best
+now.  I slept well last night, and a bath gives one colour, and
+white is so becoming.  Still, I don't know why I failed.  She may
+be a little better looking, but my figure is as good.  I can talk
+better, I have learnt how to keep a man from feeling dull, and there
+is my reputation.  Because I played at war correspondence, wore a
+man's clothes, and didn't shriek when I was under fire, people have
+chosen to make a heroine of me.  That should have counted for
+something with him--and it didn't.  I could have taken my choice
+of any man in London--and I wanted him.  And I have failed!"
+
+She threw herself back in her easy-chair and laughed softly.
+
+"Failed!  What an ugly word!  He is old, and he limps, and I--well,
+I was never a very bashful person.  He was beautifully polite, but
+he wouldn't have anything to say to me."
+
+She began to tear open her letters savagely.
+
+"Well, it is over.  If ever anybody speaks to me about it I think
+that I shall kill them.  That fool Saxe Leinitzer will stroke his
+beastly moustache, and smile at me out of the corners of his eyes.
+The Dorset woman, too--bah, I shall go away.  What is it, Annette?"
+
+"His Highness the Prince of Saxe Leinitzer has called, milady."
+
+"Called!  Does he regard this as a call?" she exclaimed, glancing
+towards the clock.  "Tell him, Annette, that your mistress does not
+receive at such an hour.  Be quick, child.  Of course I know that
+he gave you a sovereign to persuade me that it was important, but I
+won't see him, so be off."
+
+"But yes, milady," Annette answered, and disappeared.
+
+Lady Carey sipped her coffee.
+
+"I think," she said reflectively, "that it must be Melton."
+
+Annette reappeared.
+
+"Milady," she exclaimed, "His Highness insisted upon my bringing
+you this card.  He was so strange in his manner, milady, that I
+thought it best to obey."
+
+Lady Carey stretched out her hand.  A few words were scribbled on
+the back of his visiting card in yellow crayon.  She glanced at it,
+tore the card up, and threw the pieces into the fire.
+
+"My shoes and stockings, Annette," she said, "and just a morning
+wrap--anything will do."
+
+The Prince was walking restlessly up and down the room, when Lady
+Carey entered.  He welcomed her with a little cry of relief.
+
+"Heavens!"  he exclaimed.  "I thought that you were never coming."
+
+"I was in no hurry," she answered calmly.  "I could guess your news,
+so I had not even the spur of curiosity."
+
+He stopped short.
+
+"You have heard nothing!  It is not possible?"
+
+She shrugged her shoulders.
+
+"No, but I know you, and I know him.  I am quite prepared to hear
+that you are outwitted.  Indeed, to judge from your appearance
+there can be no doubt about it.  Remember I warned you."
+
+The Prince was pale with fury.
+
+"No one could foresee this," he exclaimed.  "He has walked into the
+lion's den."
+
+"Then," Lady Carey said, "I am quite prepared to hear that he tamed
+the lion."
+
+"If there was one person living whom I could have sworn that this
+man dared not visit, it was our Emperor," the Prince said.  "It is
+only a few years since, through this man's intrigues, Germany was
+shamed before the world."
+
+"And yet," Lady Carey said sweetly, "the Emperor has received him."
+
+"I have private intelligence from Berlin," Saxe Leinitzer answered.
+"Mr. Sabin was in possession of a letter written to him by the
+Emperor Frederick, thanking him for some service or other; and the
+letter was a talisman."
+
+"How like him," Lady Carey murmured, "to have the letter."
+
+"What a pity," the Prince sneered, "that such devotion should remain
+unrewarded."
+
+Lady Carey sighed.
+
+"He has broken my heart," she replied.
+
+The Prince threw out his hands.
+
+"You and I," he cried, "why do we behave like children!  Let us
+start afresh.  Listen!  The Emperor has summoned me to Berlin."
+
+"Dear me," Lady Carey murmured.  "I am afraid you will have a most
+unpleasant visit."
+
+"I dare not go," the Prince said slowly.  "It was I who induced
+the Emperor to become the titular head of this cursed Order.  Of
+course he knew nothing about the second or third degree members and
+our methods.  Without doubt he is fully informed now.  I dare not
+face him."
+
+"What shall you do?" Lady Carey asked curiously.
+
+"I am off to South America," he said.  "It is a great undeveloped
+country, and there is room for us to move there.  Muriel, you know
+what I want of you."
+
+"My good man," she answered, "I haven't the faintest idea."
+
+"You will come with me," he begged.  "You will not send me into
+exile so lonely, a wanderer!  Together there may be a great future
+before us.  You have ambition, you love intrigue, excitement, danger.
+None of these can you find here.  You shall come with me.  You shall
+not say no.  Have I not been your devoted slave?  Have--"
+
+She stopped him.  Her lips were parted in a smile of good-natured
+scorn.
+
+"Don't be absurd, Saxe Leinitzer.  It is true that I love intrigue,
+excitement and danger.  That is what made me join your Order, and
+really I have had quite a little excitement out of it, for which
+I suppose I ought to thank you.  But as for the rest, why, you are
+talking rubbish.  I would go to South America to-morrow with the
+right man, but with you, why, it won't bear talking about.  It makes
+me angry to think that you should believe me capable of such shocking
+taste as to dream of going away with you."
+
+He flung himself from the room.  Lady Carey went back to her coffee
+and letters.  She sent for Annette.
+
+"Annette," she directed, "we shall go to Melton to-morrow.  Wire
+Haggis to have the Lodge in order, and carriages to meet the midday
+train.  I daresay I shall take a few people down with me.  Let
+George go around to Tattershalls at once and make an appointment
+for me there at three o'clock this afternoon.  Look out my habits
+and boots, too, Annette."
+
+Lady Carey leaned back in her chair for a moment with half-closed
+eyes.
+
+"I think," she murmured, "that some of us in our youth must have
+drunk from some poisoned cup, something which turned our blood into
+quicksilver.  I must live, or I must die.  I must have excitement
+every hour, every second, or break down.  There are others too
+--many others.  No wonder that that idiot of a man in Harley
+Street talked to me gravely about my heart.  No excitement.  A
+quiet life!  Bah!  Such wishy-washy coffee and only one cigarette."
+
+She lit it and stood up on the hearthrug.  Her eyes were half
+closed, every vestige of colour had left her cheeks, her hand was
+pressed hard to her side.  For a few minutes she seemed to struggle
+for breath.  Then with a little lurch as though still giddy, she
+stooped, and picking up her fallen cigarette, thrust it defiantly
+between her teeth.
+
+"Not this way," she muttered.  "From a horse's back if I can with
+the air rushing by, and the hot joy of it in one's heart ... Only
+I hope it won't hurt the poor old gee ... Come in, Annette.  What
+a time you've been, child."
+
+******
+
+The Emperor sent for Mr. Sabin.  He declined to recognise his
+incognito.
+
+"Monsieur le Duc," he said, "if proof of your story were needed
+it is here.  The Prince of Saxe Leinitzer has ignored my summons.
+He has fled to South America."
+
+Mr. Sabin bowed.
+
+"A most interesting country," he murmured, "for the Prince."
+
+"You yourself are free to go when and where you will.  You need no
+longer have any fears.  The Order does not exist.  I have crushed it."
+
+Mr. Sabin bowed.
+
+"Your Majesty," he said, "has shown exemplary wisdom."
+
+"From its inception," the Emperor said, "I believe that the idea was
+a mistaken one.  I must confess that its originality pleased me; my
+calmer reflections, however, show me that I was wrong.  It is not
+for the nobles of the earth to copy the methods of socialists and
+anarchists.  These men are a pest upon humanity, but they may have
+their good uses.  They may help us to govern alertly, vigorously,
+always with our eyes and ears strained to catch the signs of the
+changing times.  Monsieur le Duc, should you decide to take up your
+residence in this country I shall at all times be glad to receive
+you.  But your future is entirely your own."
+
+Mr. Sabin accepted his dismissal from audience, and went back to
+Lucille.
+
+"The Prince," he told her, "has gone--to South America.  The Order
+does not exist any longer.  Will you dine in Vienna, or in
+Frankfort?"
+
+She held out her arms.
+
+"You wonderful man!"  she cried.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg Etext The Yellow Crayon, E. Phillips Oppenheim
+
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