THE CAB OF THE SLEEPING HORSE

by

JOHN REED SCOTT

Author of _The Woman in Question_, _The Man In Evening Clothes_, etc. 

Frontispiece by William van Dresser

A. L. Burt CompanyPublishers New YorkPublished by arrangement with G. P. Putnam's Sons

1916

[Illustration: SHE THREW UP HER HAND, AND A NASTY LITTLE AUTOMATICWAS COVERING THE SECRETARY'S HEART. Drawn by William Van Dresser. (Chapter 24)]

CONTENTS

 I. --THE PHOTOGRAPH

 II. --THE VOICE ON THE WIRE

 III. --VISITORS

 IV. --CRENSHAW

 V. --ANOTHER WOMAN

 VI. --THE GREY-STONE HOUSE

 VII. --SURPRISES

 VIII. --THE STORY

 IX. --DECOYED

 X. --SKIRMISHING

 XI. --HALF A LIE

 XII. --CARPENTER

 XIII. --THE MARQUIS

 XIV. --THE SLIP OF PAPER

 XV. --IDENTIFIED

 XVI. --ANOTHER LETTER

 XVII. --IN THE TAXI

 XVIII. --DOUBT

 XIX. --MARSTON

 XX. --PLAYING THE GAME

 XXI. --THE KEY-WORD

 XXII. --THE RATAPLAN

 XXIII. --CAUGHT

 XXIV. --THE CANDLE FLAME

I

THE PHOTOGRAPH

"A beautiful woman is never especially clever, " Rochester remarked. 

Harleston blew a smoke ring at the big drop-light on the table andwatched it swirl under the cardinal shade. 

"The cleverest woman I know is also the most beautiful, " he replied. "Yes, I can name her offhand. She has all the finesse of her sex, together with the reasoning mind; she is surpassingly good to look at, and knows how to use her looks to obtain her end; as the occasiondemands, she can be as cold as steel or warm as a summer's night; she--"

"How are her morals?" Rochester interrupted. 

"Morals or the want of them do not, I take it, enter into the question, "Harleston responded. "Cleverness is quite apart from morals. "

"You have not named the wonderful one, " Clarke reminded him. 

"And I won't now. Rochester's impertinent question forbids introducingher to this company. Moreover, " as he drew out his watch, "it ishalf-after-twelve of a fine spring night, and, unless we wish to beturned out of the Club, we would better be going homeward or elsewhere. Who's for a walk up the avenue?"

"I am--as far as Dupont Circle, " said Clarke. 

"All hands?" Harleston inquired. 

"It's too late for exercise, " Rochester declined; "and our way liesathwart your path. "

"I don't think you make good company, anyway, with your questions andyour athwarts, " Harleston retorted amiably, as Clarke and he moved off. 

"Who is your clever woman?" asked Clarke. 

"Curious?" Harleston smiled. 

"Naturally--it's not in you to give praise undeserved. "

"I'm not sure it is praise, Clarke; it depends on one's point of view. However, the lady in question bears several names which she uses asexpediency or her notion suits her. Her maiden name was MadelineCuthbert. She married a Colonel Spencer of Ours; he divorced her, aftershe had eloped with a rich young lieutenant of his regiment. She didn'tmarry the lieutenant; she simply plucked him clean and he shot himself. I've never understood why he didn't first shoot her. "

"Doubtless it shows her cleverness?" Clarke remarked. 

"Doubtless it does, " replied Harleston, neatly spitting a leaf on thepavement with his stick. "Afterward she had various adventures withvarious wealthy men, and always won. Her particularly spectacularadventure was posing, at the instigation of the Duke of Lotzen, as thewife of the Archduke Armand of Valeria; and she stirred up a mess ofturmoil until the matter was cleared up. "

"I remember something of it!" Clarke exclaimed. 

"By that time she had so fascinated her employer, the Duke of Lotzen, that he actually married her--morganatically, of course. "

"Again showing her astonishing cleverness. "

"Just so--and, cleverer still, she held him until his death five yearslater. Which death, despite the authorized report, was not natural: theKing of Valeria killed him in a sword duel in Ferida Palace on theprincipal street of Dornlitz. The lady then betook herself to Paris andtook up her present life of extreme respectability--and politicalusefulness to our friends of Wilhelm-strasse. In fact, I understand thatshe has more than made good professionally, as well as fascinated atleast half a dozen Cabinet Ministers besides. 

"Wilhelm-strasse?" Clarke queried. 

Harleston nodded. "She is in the German Secret Service. "

"They trust her?" Clarke marvelled. 

"That is the most remarkable thing about her, " said Harleston, "so faras I know, she has never been false to the hand that paid her. "

"Which, in her position, is the cleverest thing of all!" Clarkeremarked. 

They passed the English Legation, a bulging, three-storied, red brick, dormer-roofed atrocity, standing a few feet in from the sidewalk; uglyas original sin, externally as repellent as the sidewalk and the narrowlittle drive under the _porte-cochère_ are dirty. 

"It's a pity, " said Clarke, "that the British Legation cannot afford aman-servant to clean its front. "

"No one is presumed to arrive or leave except in carriages or motorcars, " Harleston explained. "_They_ can push through the dirt to theentrance. "

"Why, would you believe it, " Clarke added, "the deep snow of lastFebruary lay on the walks untouched until well into the following day. The blooming Englishmen just then began to appreciate that it had snowedthe previous night. Are they so slow on the secret-service end?"

"They have quite enough speed on that end, " Harleston responded. "Theyare on the job always and ever--also the Germans. "

"You've bumped into them?"

"Frequently. "

"Ever encounter the clever lady, with the assortment of husbands?"

"Once or twice. Moreover, having known her as a little girl, and herfamily before her, I've been interested to watch her travelling--herremarkable career. And it has been a career, Clarke; believe me, it'sbeen a career. For pure cleverness, and the appreciation ofopportunities with the ability to grasp them, the devil himself can'tshow anything more picturesque. My hat's off to her!"

"I should like to meet her, " Clarke said. 

"Come to Paris, sometime when I'm there, and I'll be delighted topresent you to her. "

"Doesn't she ever come to America?"

"I think not. She says the Continent, and Paris in particular, is goodenough for her. "

Harleston left Clarke at Dupont Circle and turned down MassachusettsAvenue. 

The broad thoroughfare was deserted, yet at the intersection ofEighteenth Street he came upon a most singular sight. 

A cab was by the curb, its horse lying prostrate on the asphalt, its boxvacant of driver. 

Harleston stopped. What had he here! Then he looked about for apoliceman. Of course, none was in sight. Policemen never are in sight onMassachusetts Avenue. 

As a general rule, Harleston was not inquisitive as to things that didnot concern him--especially at one o'clock in the morning; but thewaiting cab, the deserted box, the recumbent horse in the shafts excitedhis curiosity. 

The cab, probably, was from the stand in Dupont Circle; and the cabbylikely was asleep inside the cab, with a bit too much rum aboard. Nevertheless, the matter was worth a step into Eighteenth Street and afew seconds' time. It might yield only a drunken driver's mutterings atbeing disturbed; it might yield much of profit. And the longer Harlestonlooked the more he was impelled to investigate. Finally curiosityprevailed. 

The door of the cab was closed and he looked inside. 

The cab was empty. 

As he opened the door, the sleeping horse came suddenly to life; with asnort it struggled to its feet, then looked around apologetically atHarleston, as though begging to be excused for having been caught in amost reprehensible act for a cab horse. 

"That's all right, old boy, " Harleston smiled. "You doubtless are inneed of all the sleep you can get. Now, if you'll be good enough tostand still, we'll have a look at the interior of your appendix. "

The light from the street lamps penetrated but faintly inside the cab, so Harleston, being averse to lighting a match save for an instant atthe end of the search, was forced to grope in semi-darkness. 

On the cushion of the seat was a light lap spread, part of the equipmentof the cab. The pockets on the doors yielded nothing. He turned up thecushion and felt under it: nothing. On the floor, however, was a woman'shandkerchief, filmy and small, and without the least odour clinging toit. 

"Strange!" Harleston muttered. "They are always covered with perfume. "

Moreover, while a very expensive handkerchief, it was withoutinitial--which also was most unusual. 

He put the bit of lace into his coat and went on with the search:

Three American Beauty roses, somewhat crushed and broken, were in thefar corner. From certain abrasions in the stems, he concluded that theyhad been torn, or loosed, from a woman's corsage. 

He felt again--then he struck a match, leaning well inside the cab soas to hide the light as much as possible. 

The momentary flare disclosed a square envelope standing on edge andclose in against the seat. Extinguishing the match, he caught it up. 

It was of white linen of superior quality, without superscription, andsealed; the contents were very light--a single sheet of paper, likely. 

The handkerchief, the crushed roses, the unaddressed, sealedenvelope--the horse, the empty and deserted cab, standing before avacant lot, at one o'clock in the morning! Surely any one of them wasenough to stir the imagination; together they were a tantalizingmystery, calling for solution and beckoning one on. 

Harleston took another look around, saw no one, and calmly pocketed theenvelope. Then, after noting the number of the cab, No. 333, he gatheredup the lines, whipped the ends about the box, and chirped to the horseto proceed. 

The horse promptly obeyed; turned west on Massachusetts Avenue, andbacked up to his accustomed stand in Dupont Circle as neatly as thoughhis driver were directing him. 

Harleston watched the proceeding from the corner of Eighteenth Street:after which he resumed his way to his apartment in the Collingwood. 

A sleepy elevator boy tried to put him off at the fourth floor, and hehad some trouble in convincing the lad that the sixth was his floor. Infact, Harleston's mind being occupied with the recent affair, he wouldhave let himself be put off at the fourth floor, if he had not happenedto notice the large gilt numbers on the glass panel of the door oppositethe elevator. The bright light shining through this panel caught hiseye, and he wondered indifferently that it should be burning at such anhour. 

Subsequently he understood the light in No. 401; but then it was toolate. Had he been delayed ten seconds, or had he gotten off at thefourth floor, he would have--. However, I anticipate; or rather Ispeculate on what would have happened under hypotheticalconditions--which is fatuous in the extreme; hypothetical conditionsnever are existent facts. 

Harleston, having gained his apartment, leisurely removed from hispockets the handkerchief, the roses, and the envelope, and placed themon the library table. With the same leisureliness, he removed his lighttop-coat and his hat and hung them in the closet. Returning to thelibrary, he chose a cigarette, tapped it on the back of his hand, strucka match, and carefully passed the flame across the tip. After severalpuffs, taken with conscious deliberation, he sat down and took up thehandkerchief. 

This was Harleston's way: to delay deliberately the gratification of hiscuriosity, so as to keep it always under control. An importantletter--where haste was not an essential--was unopened for a while; hismorning newspaper he would let lie untouched beside his plate forsufficiently long to check his natural inclination to glance hastilyover the headlines of the first page. In everything he tried byself-imposed curbs to teach himself poise and patience and a quiet mind. He had been at it for years. By now he had himself well in hand; though, being exceedingly impetuous by nature, he occasionally broke over. 

His course in this instance was typical--the more so, indeed, since hehad broken over and lost his poise only that afternoon. He wanted toknow what was inside that blank envelope. He was persuaded it containedthat which would either solve the mystery of the cab, or would in itselflead on to a greater mystery. In either event, a most interestingdocument lay within his reach--and he took up the handkerchief. Discipline! The curb must be maintained. 

And the handkerchief yielded nothing--not even when inspected under thedrop-light and with the aid of a microscope. Not a mark to indicate whocarried it nor whence it came. --Yet stay; in the closed room he detectedwhat had been lost in the open: a faint, a very faint, odour as ofazurea sachet. It was only a suggestion; vague and uncertain, andentirely absent at times. And Harleston shook his head. The very factthat there was nothing about it by which it might be identifiedindicated the deliberate purpose to avoid identification. He put itaside, and, taking up the roses, laid them under the light. 

They were the usual American Beauties; only larger and more gorgeousthan the general run--which might be taken as an indication of thewealth of the giver, or of the male desire to please the female; or ofboth. Of course, there was the possibility that the roses were of thewoman's own buying; but women rarely waste their own money on AmericanBeauties--and Harleston knew it. A minute examination convinced him thatthey had been crushed while being worn and then trampled on. The stems, some of the green leaves, and the edges of one of the blooms werescarred as by a heel; the rest of the blooms were crushed but notscarred. Which indicated violence--first gentle, then somewhat drastic. 

He put the flowers aside and picked up the envelope, looked it overcarefully, then, with a peculiarly thin and very sharp knife, he cut thesealing of the flap so neatly that it could be resealed and no onesuspect it had been opened. As he turned back the flap, a smallunmounted photograph fell out and lay face upward on the table. 

Harleston gave a low whistle of surprise. 

It was Madeline Spencer. 

II

THE VOICE ON THE WIRE

"Good morning, madame!" said Harleston, bowing to the photograph. "Thisis quite a surprise. You're taken very recently, and you're worthlooking at for divers aesthetic reasons--none of which, however, is thereason for your being in the envelope. "

He drew out the sheet of paper and opened it. On it were typewritten, without address nor signature, these letters:

 DPNFNZQFEFBPOYVOAEELEHHEJYD BIWFTCCFVDXNQYCECLUGSUGDZYJ ENRYUIGYBSNRTDUHJWHGYZIPEPA WPPOIMCHEIPRFBJXFVWWFTZNJPY UFJDILDCEMBRVZDAYVAWALUMOFN FCVDPGLPWFUUWVIEPTKVIPUMSFZ NPSJJRFYASGZSDACSIGYUOFCEXA AOIDJJFCJPSONPKUUYVCVCTIHDP XMNOYKENHUSKHYMSFRRPCYWSLLW SMVPPUNEIFIDJLZRWEHPQGODFUZ TCEMQIQWNFYJTAALUMHJXILEEHY ISOVOAZUCUDINBRLUZICUOTTUSV LPNFFVQFANPVCYJHILTPFISGHCW HYICPPNFDOUOCLDUWEIVIPJNQBV ZLMIJRVKDSFRLWEGBKQYWSFFBEI YORHMYSHTECPUTMPJXFNRNEEUME ILJBWV. 

"Cipher!" commented Harleston, looking at it with half-closed eyes.... "The Blocked-Out Square, I imagine. No earthly use in trying to dig itout without the key-word; and the key-word--" he gave a shrug. "I'll letCarpenter try his hand on it; it's too much for me. "

He knew from experience the futility of attempting the solution of acipher by any but an expert; and even with an expert it was rarelysuccessful. 

As a general rule, the key to a secret cipher is discovered only byaccident or by betrayal. There are hundreds of secret ciphers--anyperson can devise one--in everyday use by the various departments of thevarious governments; but, in the main, they are amplifications orvariations of some half-dozen that have become generally accepted assusceptible of the quickest and simplest translation with the key, andthe most puzzling without the key. Of these, the Blocked-Out Square, first used by Blaise de Vigenèrie in 1589, is probably still the mostgenerally employed, and, because of its very simplicity, the mostimpossible of solution. Change the key-word and one has a new cipher. Any word will do; nor does it matter how often a letter is repeated;neither is one held to one word: it may be two or three or anyreasonable number. Simply apply it to the alphabetic Blocked-Out Squareand the message is evident; no books whatever are required. A slip ofpaper and a pencil are all that are necessary; any one can write thesquare; there is not any secret as to it. The secret is the key-word. 

Harleston took a sheet of paper and wrote the square:

 ABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRSTUVWXYZ BCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRSTUVWXYZA CDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRSTUVWXYZAB DEFGHIJKLMNOPQRSTUVWXYZABC EFGHIJKLMNOPQRSTUVWXYZABCD FGHIJKLMNOPQRSTUVWXYZABCDE GHIJKLMNOPQRSTUVWXYZABCDEF HIJKLMNOPQRSTUVWXYZABCDEFG IJKLMNOPQRSTUVWXYZABCDEFGH JKLMNOPQRSTUVWXYZABCDEFGHI KLMNOPQRSTUVWXYZABCDEFGHIJ LMNOPQRSTUVWXYZABCDEFGHIJK MNOPQRSTUVWXYZABCDEFGHIJKL NOPQRSTUVWXYZABCDEFGHIJKLM OPQRSTUVWXYZABCDEFGHIJKLMN PQRSTUVWXYZABCDEFGHIJKLMNO QRSTUVWXYZABCDEFGHIJKLMNOP RSTUVWXYZABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQ STUVWXYZABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQR TUVWXYZABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRS UVWXYZABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRST VWXYZABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRSTU WXYZABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRSTUV XYZABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRSTUVW YZABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRSTUVWX ZABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRSTUVWXY

Assume that the message to be transmitted is: "To-morrow sure, " and thatthe key-word is: "In the inn. " Write the key-word and under it themessage:

 INTHEINNINTH TOMORROWSURE

Then trace _downward_ the I column of the top line of the square, and_horizontally_ the T column at the side of the square until the twolines coincide in the letter B: the first letter of the cipher message. The N and the O yield B; the T and the M yield F; the H and the O yieldV, and so on, until the completed message is:

 BBFVVZBJAHKL

The translator of the cipher message simply reverses this proceeding. Heknows the key-word, and he writes it above the cipher message:

 INTHEINNINTH BBFVVZBJAHKL

He traces the I column until B is reached; the _first_ letter in thatline, T, is the first letter of the message--and so on. 

Simple! Yes, childishly simple with the key-word; and the key-word canbe carried in one's mind. Without the key-word, translation isimpossible. 

Harleston put down the paper and leaned back. 

Altogether it was a most interesting collection, these four articles onthe table. It was a pity that the cab and the sleeping horse were notamong the exhibits. Number one: a lady's lace handkerchief. Number two:three American Beauty roses, somewhat the worse for wear and violentusage. Number three: a cipher message. Number four: photograph ofMadame--or Mademoiselle--de Cuthbert, de Spencer, de Lotzen. There was apretty plot behind these exhibits; a pretty plot, or he missed hisguess. It might concern the United States--and it might not. It would behis duty to find out. Meanwhile, the picture stirred memories that hehad thought long dead. Also it suggested possibilities. It was someyears since they had matched their wits against each other, and the lasttime she rather won out--because all the cards were hers, as well as the_mise en scène_. And she had left--

His thought trailed off into silence; and the silence lasted so long, and he sat so still, that the ash fell unnoticed from his cigarette; andpresently the cigarette burned itself into the tip, and to his fingers. 

He tossed it into the tray and laughed quietly. 

Rare days--those days of the vanished protocol and its finding! He couldalmost wish that they might be again; with a different _mise en scène_, and a different ending--and a different client for his. He was becomingalmost sentimental--and he was too old a bird for sentiment, and quitetoo old at this game; which had not any sentiment about it that was notpretence and sham. Yet it was a good game--a mighty entertaining game;where one measured wits with the best, and took long chances, and playedfor high stakes; men's lives and a nation's honour. 

He picked up the photograph and regarded it thoughtfully. 

"And what are to be the stakes now, I wonder, " he mused. "It's anotherdeal of the same old cards, but who are players? If America is one, then, my lady, we shall see who will win this time--if you're in it; andI take it you are, else why this picture. Yet to induce you to breakyour rule and cross the Atlantic, the moving consideration must be ofthe utmost weight, or else it's purely a personal matter. H-u-m! Underall the circumstances, I should say the latter is the more likely. Inwhich event, I may not be concerned further than to return these--" witha wave of his hand toward the exhibits. 

For a while longer he sat in silence, eyes half closed, lips a bitcompressed; a certain sternness, that was always in his countenance, showing plainest when in reflective thought. At last, he smiled. Then helit another cigarette, took up the letter and the photograph, and putthem in the small safe standing behind an ornate screen in thecorner--not, however, without another look at the calmly beautiful face. 

The roses he left lie on the table; the steel safe would not preservethem in _statu quo_; moreover, he knew, or thought he knew, all thatthey could convey. He swung the door shut; then swung it open, andlooked again at the picture--and for sometime--before he put it up andgave the knob a twirl. 

"I'm sure bewitched!" he remarked, going on to his bedroom. "It's notdifficult for me to understand the Duke of Lotzen. He was simply aman--and men, at the best, are queer beggars. No woman ever understandsus--and no more do we understand women. So we're both quits on thatscore, if we're not quite on some others. " Then he raised his handshelplessly, "Oh, Lord, the petticoats, the petticoats!"

Just then the telephone rang--noisily as befits two o'clock in themorning. 

"Who the devil wants me at such an hour?" he muttered. 

The clang was repeated almost instantly and continued until he unhookedthe receiver. 

"Well!" he said sharply. 

"Is that Mr. Harleston?" asked a woman's voice. A particularly soft andsweet and smiling voice, it was. 

"I am Mr. Harleston, " he replied courteously--the voice had done it. 

"Oh, how do you do, Mr. Harleston!" the voice rippled. "I suppose youare rather astonished at being called up at such an unseemly hour--"

"Not at all--I'm quite used to it, mademoiselle, " Harleston assured her. 

"Now you're sarcastic, " the voice replied again; "and, somehow, I don'tlike sarcasm when I'm the cause of it. "

"You're the cause of it but not the object of it, " he assured her. "I'mquite sure I've never met you, and just as sure that I hope to meet youtoday. "

"Your hope, Mr. Harleston, is also mine. But why, may I ask, do you callme mademoiselle? I'm not French. "

"It's the pleasantest way to address you until I know your name. "

"You might call me madame!"

"Perish the thought! I refuse to imagine you married. "

"I might be a widow. "

"No. "

"Or even a divorcée. "

"And you might be a grandmother, " he added. 

"Yes. "

"And doing the Maxixe at the Willard, this minute. "

"Yes!" she laughed. 

"But you aren't; and no more are you a widow or a divorcée. "

"All of which is charming of you, Mr. Harleston but it's not exactly thebusiness I have in hand. "

"Business at two o'clock in the morning!" he exclaimed. 

He had tried to place the voice, and had failed; he was becomingconvinced that he had not heard it before. 

"What else would justify me in disturbing you?" she asked. 

"Yourself, mademoiselle. Let us continue the pleasant conversation andforget business until business hours. "

"When are your business hours, Mr. Harleston--and where's your office?"

"I have no office--and my business hours depend on the business inhand. "

"And the business in hand depends primarily on whether you areinterested in the subject matter of the business, _n'est-ce pas_?"

"I am profoundly interested, mademoiselle, in any matter that concernsyou--as well as in yourself. Who would not be interested in one soimpulsive--and anything so important--as to call him on the telephone attwo in the morning. "

"And who on his part is so gracious--and wasn't asleep, " she answered. 

Harleston slowly winked at the transmitter and smiled. 

He thought so. What puzzled him, however, was her idea in prolonging thetalk. Maybe there was not any idea in it, just a feminine notion; yetsomething in the very alluring softness of her voice told him otherwise. 

"You guessed it, " he replied. "I was not asleep. Also I might guesssomething in regard to your business. "

"What?"

"No, no, mademoiselle! It's impertinent to guess about what does notconcern me--yet. "

"Delete the word 'yet, ' Mr. Harleston, and substitute the idea that itwas--pardon me--rather gratuitous in you to meddle in the first place. "

"I don't understand, " said Harleston. 

"Oh, yes you do!" she trilled. "However, I'll be specific--it's time tobe specific, you would say; though I might respond that you've known allalong what my business is with you. "

"The name of an individual is a prerequisite to the transaction ofbusiness, " he interposed. 

"You do not know me, Mr. Harleston. "

"Hence, your name?"

"When we meet, you'll know me by my voice. "

"True, mademoiselle, for it's one in a million; but as yet we are notmet, and you desire to talk business. "

"And I'm going to talk business!" she laughed. "And I shall not giveyou my name--or, if you must, know me as Madame X. Are you satisfied?"

"If you are willing to be known as Madame X, " he laughed back, "Ihaven't a word to say. Pray begin. "

"Being assured now that you have never before heard my voice, and thatyou have it fixed sufficiently in your memory--all of which, Mr. Harleston, wasn't in the least necessary, for we shall meet today--wewill proceed. Ready?"

"Ready, mademoiselle--I mean Madame X. "

"What do you intend to do, sir, in regard to the incident of thedeserted cab with the sleeping horse?" she asked. 

"I have not determined. It depends on developments. "

"You see, Mr. Harleston, you were not in the least surprised at myquestion. "

"For a moment, a mere man may have had a clever woman's intuition, " hereplied. 

And, I suppose, the woman will be expected to aid developments. "

"Isn't that her present intention?"

"Not at all! Her present intention is to avoid developments so far asyou are concerned, and to have matters take their intended course. It'sto that end that I have ventured to call you. "

"What do you wish me to do, Madame X?"

"As if you did not know!" she mocked. 

"I'm very dense at times, " he assured her. 

"Dense!" she laughed. "Shades of Talleyrand, hear the man! However, asyou desire to be told, I'll tell you. I wish you to forget that you sawanything unusual on your way home this morning, and to return thearticles you took from the cab. "

"To the cab?" Harleston inquired. 

"No, to me. "

"What were the articles?"

"A sealed envelope containing a message in cipher. "

"Haven't you forgotten something?"

"Oh, you may keep the roses, Mr. Harleston, for your reward!" shelaughed. 

She had not missed the handkerchief, or else she thought it of noconsequence. 

"Assuming, for the moment, that I have the articles in question, how arethey to be gotten to you?"

"By the messenger, I shall send. "

"Will you send yourself?"

"What is that to you, sir?" she trilled. 

"Simply that I shall not even consider surrendering the articles, assuming that I have them, to any one but you. "

"You will surrender them to _me_?" she whispered. 

"I won't surrender them to any one else. "

"In other words, I have a chance to get them. No one else has a chance?"

"Precisely. "

"Very well, I accept. Make the appointment, Mr. Harleston. "

"Will five o'clock this afternoon be convenient?"

"Perfectly--if it can't be sooner, " she replied, after a momentarypause. "And the place?"

"Where you will, " he answered. He wanted her to fix it so that he couldjudge of her good faith. 

And she understood. 

"I'm not arranging to have you throttled!" she laughed. "Let us say thecorridor of the Chateau--that is safe enough, isn't it?"

"Don't you know, Madame X, that Peacock Alley is one of the mostdangerous places in town?"

"Not for you, Mr. Harleston, " she replied. "However--"

"Oh, I'll chance it; though it's a perilous setting with one of youradorable voice--and the other things that simply must go with it. "

"And lest the other things should not go with it, " she added, "I'll wearthree American Beauties on a black gown so that you may know me. "

"Good! Peacock Alley at five, " he replied and snapped up the receiver. 

III

VISITORS

"The affair promises to be quite interesting, " he confided to thepaper-knife, with which he was spearing tiny holes in the blotter of thepad. "Peacock Alley at five--but there are a few matters that comefirst. "

He went straight to the safe, unlocked it, took out the photograph, thecipher message, and the handkerchief, carried these to the table andplaced them in a large envelope, which he sealed and addressed tohimself. Then with it, and the three American Beauties, he passedquickly into the corridor and to an adjoining apartment. There he rangthe bell vigorously and long. 

He was still ringing when a dishevelled figure, in blue pajamas and ascowl, opened the door. 

"What the devil do you--" the disturbed one growled. 

"S-h-h!" said Harleston, his finger on his lips. "Keep these for meuntil tomorrow, Stuart. "

And crowding the roses and the envelope in the astonished man's hands, he hurried away. 

The pajamaed one glared at the flowers and the envelope; then he turnedand flung them into a corner of the living-room. 

"Hell!" he said in disgust. "Harleston's either crazy or in love: it'sthe same thing anyway. "

He slammed the door and went back to bed. 

Harleston, chuckling, returned to his quarters; retrieved from the floora leaf and a petal and tossed them out of the window. Then, beingassured by a careful inspection of the room that there were no furthertraces of the roses remaining, he went to bed. 

Two minutes after his head touched the pillow, he was asleep. 

Presently he awoke--listening!

Some one was on the fire-escape. The passage leading to it was just atthe end of his suite; more than that, one could climb over the railing, and, by a little care, reach the sill of his bedroom window. This sillwas wide and offered an easy footing. If the window were up, one couldeasily step inside; or, even if it were not, the catch could be slippedin a moment. 

Harleston's window, however, was up--invitingly up; also the window onthe passage; it was a warm night and any air was grateful. 

He lay quite still and waited developments. They came from anotherquarter: the corridor on which his apartment opened. Someone was there. 

Then the knob of his door turned; he could not distinguish it in theuncertain light, yet he knew it was turning by a peculiarly faintscreech--almost so faint as to be indistinguishable. One would notnotice it except at the dead of night. 

The door hung a moment; then cautiously it swung back a little way, andtwo men entered. The moon, though now low, was sufficient to light theplace faintly and to enable them to see and be seen. 

For a brief interval they stood motionless. They came to life whenHarleston, reaching up, pushed the electric button. 

"What can I do for you, gentlemen?" he asked, blinking into theirlevelled revolvers. 

They were medium-sized men and wore evening clothes; one was aboutforty-five and rather inclined to stoutness, the other was under fortyand rather slender. They were not masked, and their faces, which werestrange to Harleston, were the faces of men of breeding, accustomed toaffairs. 

"You startled us, Mr. Harleston, " the elder replied; "and you blinded usmomentarily by the rush of light. "

"It was thoughtless of me, " Harleston returned. He waved his hand towardthe chairs. "Won't you be seated, messieurs--and pardon my not arising;I'm hardly in receiving costume. May I ask whom I am entertaining. "

"Certainly, sir, " the elder smiled. "This is Mr. Sparrow; I am Mr. Marston. We would not have you put yourself to the inconvenience, not tomention the hazard from drafts. You're much more comfortable in bed--andwe can transact our business with you quite as well so; moreover if youwill give us your word to lie quiet and not call or shoot, we shall notoffer you the slightest violence. "

"I'll do anything, " Harleston smiled, "to be relieved of looking downthose unattractive muzzles. Ah! thank you!--The chairs, gentlemen!" witha fine gesture of welcome. 

"We haven't time to sit down, thank you, " said Sparrow. "Time pressesand we must away as quickly as possible. We shall, we sincerely hope, inconvenience you but a moment, Mr. Harleston. "

"Pray take all the time you need, " Harleston responded. "I've nothing todo until nine o'clock--except to sleep; and sleep is a mere incidentalto me. I would much rather chat with visitors, especially those who payme such a delightfully early morning call. "

"Do you know what we came for?" Marston asked. 

"I haven't the slightest idea. In fact, I don't seem to recall everhaving met either of you. However--you'll find cigars and cigarettes onthe table in the other room. I'll be greatly obliged, if one of you willpass me a cigarette and a match. "

Both men laughed; Sparrow produced his case and offered it to Harleston, together with a match. 

"Thank you, very much, " said Harleston, as he struck the match andcarefully passed the flame across the tip. "Now, sirs, I'm at yourservice. To what, or to whom, do I owe the honour of this visit?"

"We have ventured to intrude on you, Mr. Harleston, " said Marston, "inregard to a little matter that happened on Eighteenth Street nearMassachusetts Avenue shortly before one o'clock this morning. "

Harleston looked his surprise. 

"Yes!" he inflected. "How very interesting. "

"I'm delighted that you find it so, " was the answer. "It encourages meto go deeper into that matter. "

"By all means!" said Harleston, pushing the pillow aside and sitting up. "Pray, proceed. I'm all attention. "

"Then we'll go straight to the point. You found certain articles in thecab, Mr. Harleston--we have come for those articles. "

"I am quite at a loss to understand, " Harleston replied. "Cab--articles!Have they to do with your little matter of Eighteenth and MassachusettsAvenue several hours ago?"

"They are the crux of the matter, " Marston said shortly. "And you willconfer a great favour upon persons high in authority of a friendly powerif you will return the articles in question. "

"My dear sir, " Harleston exclaimed, "I haven't the articles, whateverthey may be; and pardon me, even if I had, I should not deliver them toyou; I've never, to the best of my recollection, seen either of yougentlemen before this pleasant occasion. "

"My dear Mr. Harleston, " remarked Sparrow, "all your actions at the cabof the sleeping horse were observed and noted, so why protest?"

"I'm not protesting; I'm simply stating two pertinent facts!" Harlestonlaughed. 

"We will grant the fact that you've never seen us, " said Marston, "butthat you have not got the articles in question, we, " with apologizinggesture, "beg leave to doubt. "

"You're at full liberty to search my apartment, " Harleston answered. "I'm not sensitive early in the morning, whatever I may be at night. "

"The letter is easy to conceal, " was the reply, "and the safe yonder isan _impasse_ without your assistance. "

"The safe is not locked, " Harleston remarked. "I think I neglected toturn the knob. If you will--"

"Don't disturb yourself, I pray, " was the quick reply, the revolverglinting in his hand; "we will gladly relieve you of the trouble. "

"I was only about to say that if you try the door it will open for you, "Harleston chuckled. "Go through it, sir, " he remarked to the younger, "and don't, I beg of you, disturb the papers more than necessary. Thekey to the locked drawer is in the lower compartment on the right. Proceed, my elderly friend, to search the apartment; I'll not balk you. The thing's rather amusing--and entirely absurd. If it were not--if itdidn't strike my funny-bone--I should probably put up some sort of afight; as it is, you see I'm entirely acquiescent. Your tiny automaticsdidn't in the least intimidate me. I could have landed you both as youentered. I've got a gun of a much larger calibre right to my hand. See!"and he lifted the pillow and exposed a 38. "Want to borrow it?"

"Why didn't you land us?" Marston asked, as he took the 38. 

"It wouldn't have been kind!" Harleston smiled. "When visitors come atsuch an hour, they deserve to be received with every attention andcourtesy--particularly when they come on a mistaken impression and afruitless quest. "

The man looked at Harleston doubtfully. Just how much of this was bluff, he could not decide. Harleston's whole conduct was rather unusual--theopen door, the open safe, the unemployed revolver, were not inaccordance with the game they were playing. He should have made a fight, some sort of a fight, and not--

"The letter's not in the safe, " Sparrow reported. 

"I didn't think it was, " said the other, "but we had to make search. "

"You're very welcome to look elsewhere and anywhere, " Harlestoninterjected. "I'll trust you not to pry into matters other than theletter. By the way, whose was the letter?"

"His Majesty of Abyssinia!" was the answer. 

"Taken by wireless, I presume. "

"Exactly!"

"Then, why so much bother, my friend?" Harleston asked. "If you do notfind it, you can get others by the same quick route. "

"The King of Abyssinia never duplicates a letter. "

"When, " supplemented Harleston, "it has been carelessly lost in a cab. "

"Just so. Therefore--"

"I repeat that I have not got the articles, " said Harleston, a bitwearily, "nor are they in my apartment. You have been misinformed. Ifind I am getting drowsy--this thing is not as absorbing as I hadthought it would be. With your permission I'll drop off to sleep; you'rewelcome to continue the search. Make yourselves perfectly at home, sirs. " He lay back and drew up the sheet. "Just pull the door shut whenyou depart, please, " he said, and closed his eyes. 

"You're a queer chap, " remarked Sparrow, pausing in his search andsurveying Harleston with a puzzled smile. "One would suppose you're usedto receiving interruptions at such hours for such purposes. "

"I try never to be surprised at anything however _outré_, " Harlestonexplained. "Good-night. "

The two men looked at the recumbent figure and then at each other andlaughed. 

"He acts the part, " said the elder. "Have you found anything?"

"Nothing! It's not in the safe nor the writing-table--nor anywhere elsethat is reasonable. I've been through everything and there's nothingdoing. "

"You're not going?" Harleston remarked. 

"You're asleep, Mr. Harleston!" Marston reminded. "The letter is here:we've simply got to find it. "

"A letter is easy to conceal, " the younger replied. "There's nothing butto overturn everything in the place--and so on; and that will require aday. "

"So that you replace things, I've not the slightest objection, "Harleston interjected. "Bang away, sirs, bang away! Anything to relieveme from suspicion. "

"It prevents him from sleeping!" Sparrow laughed. 

"Also yourselves, " Harleston supplemented. "However, you for it, remembering that cock-crow comes earlier now than in December, and thepeople too are up betimes. You risk interruption, I fear, from mysolicitous friends. "

And even as he spoke the corridor door opened and a man stepped in. 

From where he lay, Harleston could see him; the others could not. 

"'Pon my soul, I'm popular this morning!" Harleston remarked, sittingup. 

Instantly the new-comer covered him with his revolver. 

"What did you say?" Sparrow inquired from the sitting-room, just as thestranger appeared around the corner. 

Like a flash, the latter's revolver shifted to him. 

"Easy there!" said he. 

Sparrow sprang up--then he laughed. 

"Easy yourself!" said he. "Marston, let this gentleman see your hand. "

Marston came slowly forward until he stood a little behind butsufficiently in view to enable the stranger to see that he himself wascovered by an automatic. 

"For heaven's sake, Crenshaw, " said Sparrow, "don't let us get toshooting here! If you wing me, Marston will wing you, and we'll onlystir up a mess for ourselves. "

"Then hand over the letter, " said Crenshaw

"Do you fancy we would be hunting it if we had it?"

"I don't fancy--produce the goods!"

"We haven't the goods, " Marston shrugged. "We can't find it. "

Sparrow shook his head curtly. 

"It's the truth, " Harleston interjected. "They haven't found the goodsfor the very good reason that the goods are not here. Plunge in and aidin the search; I wish you would; it will relieve me of your tripleintrusion in one third less time. I'm becoming very tired of it all; ithas lost its novelty. I prefer to sleep. "

"I want the letter!" Crenshaw exclaimed. 

"I assumed as much from the vigour of your quest, " Harleston shrugged. "The difficulty is that I haven't the letter. Neither is it in myapartment. But you'll facilitate the search if you'll depress yourrespective cannon from the angle of each other's anatomy and get towork. As I remarked before, I'm anxious to compose myself for sleep. Youcan hold your little dispute later on the sidewalk, or in jail, orwherever is most convenient. "

"Mr. Harleston, " said Marston, "do you give us your word that the letteris not in your apartment?"

"You already have it, " Harleston replied wearily. 

"Then, sir, we'll take your word and withdraw. "

"Thank you, " said Harleston. 

"He has it somewhere!" Crenshaw declared, fingering his revolver. 

"My dear fellow, " Marston returned, "we are willing to accept Mr. Harleston's averment. "

"He knows where it is--he took it--let him tell where it is hidden. "

"What good will that subserve? We can't get it tonight, and tomorrowwill be too late. "

"And all because of you two meddlers. "

"Three meddlers, Crenshaw!" Marston laughed. "You must not forget yoursweet self. We've bungled the affair, I admit. We can't improve it nowby murdering each other--"

"We can make it very uncomfortable for the fourth meddler, " Crenshawthreatened, eyeing the figure on the bed. 

"Haven't you made me uncomfortable enough by this untimely intrusion?"Harleston muttered sleepily. 

"What is your idea in not offering any opposition?" Crenshaw demanded. "Is it a plant?"

"It was courtesy at first, and the novelty of the experience; but it'sceased to be novel, and courtesy is a bit supererogatory. By the way, which of you came up the fire-escape?"

The three shook their heads. 

"I'm not a burglar, " Crenshaw snapped. 

"The burden is on you to prove it, my friend!" Harleston smiled. "However, it's no matter. Just drop cards before you leave so that I canreturn your call. Once more, good-night!"

"I'm off, " said Marston. "Come along, Crenshaw, you can't do anythingmore here, and we'll all forget and forgive and start fresh in themorning. "

"Start?" cried Crenshaw? "what for--home? I tell you the letter ishere--he took it, didn't he? He was at the cab. "

"Will you also give your word that you didn't take a letter from thecab?" Crenshaw demanded, turning upon Harleston. 

"I'll give you nothing since you've asked me in that manner, " Harlestonreplied sharply; "unless you want this. " His hand came from under thesheet, and Crenshaw was looking into a levelled 38. Harleston had a pairof them. 

"Beat it, my man!" Harleston snapped. "None of you are of much successas burglars; you're not familiar with the trade. You're novices, ranknovices. Also myself. I'll give you until I count five, Crenshaw, tomake your adieux. One ... Two ... No need for you two to hurry away--thetime limit applies only to Mr. Crenshaw. "

"It's quite time we were going, Mr. Harleston, " Marston answered. "Good-night, sir--and pleasant dreams. Come on, Crenshaw. "

"Three ... Four ... "

Crenshaw made a gesture of final threat. 

"Meddler!" he exclaimed. Then he followed the other two. 

IV

CRENSHAW

Harleston lay for a few minutes, brows drawn in thought; then he arose, crossed to the telephone, and took down the receiver. 

"Good-morning, Miss Williams, " he said. "Has it been a long night?"

"Pretty long, Mr. Harleston, " the girl answered. "There hasn't been athing doing for two hours. "

"Haven't three gentlemen just left the building?"

"No one has passed in or out since you came in, Mr. Harleston. "

"Then I must be mistaken. "

"You certainly are. It's so lonely down here, Mr. Harleston, you canpick up chunks of it and carry off. "

"Been asleep?"

"I don't think!" she laughed. "I'm not minded to lose my job. Supposesome peevish woman wanted a doctor and she couldn't raise me; do youthink I'd last longer than the morning and the manager's arrival? Nay!Nay!"

"It's an unsympathetic world, isn't it, Miss Williams?"

"Only when you're down--otherwise it's not half bad. Say, maybe here'sone of your men now; he's walking down. Shall I stop him?"

"No, no, let him go. When he's gone, tell me if he's slender, or stout, or has a moustache and imperial. "

"Sure, I will. "

Through the telephone Harleston could hear someone descend the stairs, cross the lobby, and the revolving doors swing around. 

The next moment, the operator's voice came with a bit of laugh. 

"Are you there, Mr. Harleston?"

"I'm here. "

"Well, your man was a woman--and she was accidentally deliberatelycareful that I shouldn't see her face. "

"H-u-m!" said Harleston. "Young or old?"

"She's got ripples enough on her gown to be sixty, and figure enough tobe twenty. "

"Slender?"

"Yes; a perfect peach!"

"How's her walk?"

"As if the ground was all hers. "

"I see!" Harleston replied. "What would you, as a woman, make herage--being indifferent and strictly truthful?"

"Not over twenty-eight--probably less!" she laughed. "And I've a notionshe's some to look at, Mr. Harleston. "

"You mean she's a beauty?"

"Sure. "

"Call me if she comes back; also if any of the men go out. They arestrangers to the Collingwood so you will know them. "

"Very good, Mr. Harleston. "

He hung up the receiver and went back to bed. 

If no one had come in and no one had left the Collingwood since hisreturn, the men must have been in the building--unless they had come byanother way than the main entrance; which was the only entrance openafter midnight. If the former was the case, then someone on the outsidemust have communicated to them as to him. 

With a muttered curse on his stupidity, he returned to the telephone. 

"Miss Williams, " said he, "there has been a queer occurrence in thebuilding since two A. M. , and I should like to know confidentiallywhether any one has communicated with an apartment since one thirty. "

The girl knew that Harleston was on intimate terms with the StateDepartment, and with the police, and she answered at once. 

"Save only yours, not a single in or out call has been registered sincetwelve fifty-two when apartment No. 401 was connected for a shortwhile. "

"Who has No. 401?"

"A Mr. And Mrs. Chartrand. It's one of the transient apartments; andthey have occupied it only a few days. "

"You didn't by any chance overhear--"

"The conversation?" she laughed. "Sure, I heard it; anything to put inthe time during the night. It was very brief, however; something abouthim being here, and to meet him at ten in the morning. "

"Who were talking?"

"Mrs. Chartrand and a man--at least I took it to be Mrs. Chartrand; itwas a woman's voice. "

"Did they mention where they were to meet, or the name of the man?"

"No. The very vagueness of the talk made its impression on me at thattime of night. In the daytime, I would not have even listened. "

"I understand, " said Harleston. "Call me up, will you, if there are anydevelopments as to the men I've described--or the conversation. Meanwhile, Miss Williams, not a word. "

"Not a word, Mr. Harleston--and thank you. "

"What for?"

"For treating me as a human being. Most persons treat me like anautomaton or a bit of dirt. You're different; most of the men are not sobad; it's the women, Mr. Harleston, the women! Good-night, sir. I'llcall you if anything turns up. "

"All of which shows, " reflected Harleston, as he returned to bed, "thatthe telephone people are right in asking you to smile when you say'hello. '"

It was a very interesting condition of affairs that confronted him. 

The episode of the cab of the sleeping horse was leading on to--what?

Three men in the Collingwood knew of the occurrence, yet no one had comein or gone out, and no one had telephoned. Moreover, they also knew ofHarleston's part in the matter. The girl had not lied, he was sure;therefore they must have gained entrance from the outside; and, possibly, were now hiding in the Chartrand apartment--if the telephonemessage to No. 401 had to do with the occupant of the deserted cab andthe lost letter. Yet how to connect things? And why bother to connectthem?

He did not care for the vanished lady of the cab--he had the letter andthe photograph; and because of them he was to have a talk with aninteresting young woman at five o'clock that afternoon. The cipherletter, which was the much desired quantity, was safely across the hall, waiting to be turned over to Carpenter, the expert of the StateDepartment, for translation. Meanwhile, what concerned Harleston was thephotograph of Madeline Spencer and her connection with the case--and toknow if the United States was concerned in the affair. 

At this point he turned over and calmly went to sleep. Tomorrow wasanother day. 

He was aroused by a vigorous pounding on the corridor door. It wasseven-thirty o'clock. He yawned and responded to the summons--which grewmore insistent with every pound. 

It was Stuart--the envelope and the flowers in his hand. 

"Scarcely heard your gentle tap, " Harleston remarked. "Why don't youknock like a man?"

"Here's your damn bouquet, also your envelope, " said Stuart, "Youprobably don't recall that you left them with me about two this morning. I _do_. "

"I'm mighty much obliged, old man, " Harleston responded. "You did me agreat service by taking them--I'll tell you about it later. "

"Hump!" grunted Stuart. "I hope you'll come around to tell me at a moreseasonable hour. So long!"

Harleston closed the door, and was half-way across the living-room whenthere came another knock. 

Tossing the envelope and the faded roses on a nearby table, he steppedback and swung open the door. 

Instantly, a revolver was shoved into his face, and Crenshaw sprang intothe hall and closed the door. 

"I thought as much!" he exclaimed. "I'll take that envelope, my friend, and be quick about it. "

"What envelope?" Harleston inquired pleasantly, never seeming to noticethe menacing automatic. 

"Come, no trifling!" Crenshaw snapped. "The envelope that the man fromthe apartment across the corridor just handed you. "

Harleston laughed. "You are obsessed with the notion that I havesomething of yours, Mr. Crenshaw. "

"_The letter!_" exclaimed Crenshaw. 

"That envelope is addressed to me, sir; it's not the one you seem towant. "

"I suppose the flowers are also addressed to you, " Crenshaw derided, advancing. "Get back, sir, --I'll get the envelope myself. "

"My dear man, " Harleston expostulated, retreating slowly toward the doorof the living-room, "I'll let you see the envelope; I've not theslightest objection. Put up your gun, man; I'm not dangerous. "

"You're not so long as I've got the drop on you!" Crenshaw laughedsneeringly. "Get back, man, get back; to the far side of the table--thefar side, do you hear--while I examine the envelope yonder beside theroses. The roses are very familiar, Mr. Harleston. I've seen thembefore. "

Harleston, retreating hastily, backed into a chair and fell over it. 

"All right, stay there, then!" said Crenshaw, and reached for theletter. 

As he did so, Harleston's slippered foot shot out and drove hard intothe other's stomach. With a grunt Crenshaw doubled up from pain. Thenext instant, Harleston caught his wrist and the struggle was on. 

It was not for long, however. Crenshaw was outweighed and outstrengthed;and Harleston quickly bore him to the floor, where a sharp blow on thefingers sent the automatic flying. 

"If it were not for spoiling the devil's handiwork, my fine friend, I'dsmash your face, " Harleston remarked. 

"Smash it!" the other panted. "I'll promise--to smash yours--at thefirst opportunity. "

"Which latter smashing won't be until some years later, " Harlestonretorted, as he turned Crenshaw over. Bearing on him with all hisweight, he loosed his own pajama-cord and tied the man's hands behindhim. Next he kicked off his pajama trousers, and with them boundCrenshaw's ankles. Then he dragged him to a chair and plunked him intoit, securing him there by a strap. 

"It's scarcely necessary to gag you, " he remarked pleasantly. "In yourcase, an outcry would be embarrassing only to yourself. "

"What do you intend to do with me?" Crenshaw demanded. 

"Ultimately, you mean. I have not decided. It may depend on what Ifind. "

"Find?"

Harleston nodded. "In your pockets. "

"You dog!" Crenshaw burst out, straining at his bonds. "You miserablewhelp! What do you think to find?"

"I'm not thinking, " Harleston smiled; "it isn't necessary to speculatewhen one has all the stock, you know. " Then his face hardened. 

"One who comes into another's residence in the dead of night, revolverin hand and violence in his intention, can expect no mercy and shouldreceive none. You're an ordinary burglar, Crenshaw and as such the lawwill view you if I turn you over to the police. You think I found aletter in an abandoned cab at 18th and Massachusetts Avenue early thismorning, and instead of coming like a respectable man and asking if Ihave it and proving your property--do you hear, proving _your_property--you play the burglar and highwayman. Evidently the letterisn't yours, and you haven't any right or claim to it. I have beeninjected into this matter; and having been injected I intend toascertain what can be found from your papers. Who you are; what yourobject; who are concerned beside yourself; and anything else I candiscover. You see, you have the advantage of me; you know who I am, and, I presume, my business; I know nothing of you, nor of your business, norwhat this all means; though I might guess some things. It's to obviateguessing, as far as possible, that I am about to examine such evidenceas you may have with you. "

Crenshaw was so choked with his anger that for a moment he merelysputtered--then he relapsed into furious silence, his dark eyes glowingwith such hate that Harleston paused and asked a bit curiously:

"Why do you take it so hard? It's all in the game--and you've lost. You're a poor sort of sport, Crenshaw. You'd be better at ping-pong orcroquet. This matter of--letters, and cabs, is far beyond your calibre;it's not in your class. "

"We haven't reached the end of the matter, my adroit friend, " grittedCrenshaw. "My turn will come, never fear. "

"A far day, monsieur, a far day!" said Harleston lightly. "Meanwhile, with your permission, we will have a look at the contents of yourpockets. First, your pocketbook. "

He unbuttoned the other's coat, put in his hand, and drew out the book. 

"Attend, please, " said he, "so you can see that I replace everyarticle. "

Crenshaw's only answer was a contemptuous shrug. 

A goodly wad of yellow backs of large denominations, and some visitingcards, no two of which bore the same name, were the contents of thepocketbook. 

"You must have had some difficulty in keeping track of yourself, "Harleston remarked, as he made a note of the names. 

Then he returned the bills and the cards to the book, and put it back inCrenshaw's pocket. 

"It's unwise to carry so much money about you, " he remarked; "it inducesspending, as well as provokes attack. "

"What's that to you?" replied Crenshaw angrily. 

"Nothing whatever--it's merely a word of advice to one who seems to needit. Now for the other pockets. "

The coat yielded nothing additional; the waist-coat, only a few matchesand an open-faced gold watch, which Harleston inspected rather carefullyboth inside and out; the trousers, a couple of handkerchiefs with theinitial C in the corner, some silver, and a small bunch of keys--and inthe fob pocket a crumpled note, with the odour of carnations clinging toit. 

Harleston glanced at Crenshaw as he opened the note--and caught a slylook in his eyes. 

"Something doing, Crenshaw?" he queried. 

Another shrug was Crenshaw's answer--and the sly look grew into a slysmile. 

The note, apparently in a woman's handwriting, was in French, andcontained five words and an initial:

 _À l'aube du jour. M. _

Harleston looked at it long enough to fix in his mind the penmanship andto mark the little eccentricities of style. Then he folded it and put itin Crenshaw's outside pocket. 

"Thank you!" said he, with an amused smile. 

"You forgot to look in the soles of my shoes?" Crenshaw jeered. 

"Someone else will do that, " Harleston replied. 

"Someone else?" Crenshaw inflected. 

"The police always search prisoners, I believe. "

"My God, you don't intend to turn me over to the police?" Crenshawexclaimed. 

"Why not?" And when Crenshaw did not reply: "Wherein are you differentfrom any other felon taken red-handed--except that you were taken twicein the same night, indeed?"

"Think of the scandal that will ensue!" Crenshaw cried. 

"It won't affect me!" Harleston laughed. 

"Won't affect you?" the other retorted. "Maybe it won't--and maybe itwill!"

"We shall try it, " Harleston remarked, and picked up the telephone. 

Crenshaw watched him with a snarling sneer on his lips. 

Harleston gave the private number of the police superintendent. Hehimself answered. 

"Major Ranleigh, this is Harleston. I'd like to have a man report to meat the Collingwood at once. --No; one will be enough, thank you. Have himcome right up to my apartment. Good-bye!--Now if you'll excuse me for abrief time, Mr. Crenshaw, I'll get into some clothes--while you thinkover the question whether you will explain or go to prison. "

"You will not dare!" Crenshaw laughed mockingly. "Your State Departmentwon't stand for it a moment when they hear of it--which they'll do atten o'clock, if I'm missing. "

"Let me felicitate you on your forehandedness, " Harleston called fromthe next room. "It's admirably planned, but not effective for yourrelease. "

"Hell!" snorted Crenshaw, and relapsed into silence. 

Presently Harleston appeared, dressed for the morning. 

"Why not spread your cards on the table, Crenshaw?" he asked. "I didstumble on the deserted cab this morning, wholly by accident; I was onmy way here. I did find in it a letter and these roses, and I broughtthem here. I don't know if you know what that letter contained--I do. It's in cipher--and will be turned over to the State Department fortranslation. What I want to know is: first--what is the message of theletter, if you know; second--who was the woman in the cab, and the factsof the episode; third--what governments, if any, are concerned. "

"You're amazingly moderate in your demands, " Crenshaw sarcasmed; "somoderate, indeed, that I would acquiesce at once but for the fact thatI'm wholly ignorant of the contents of the letter. The name of thewoman, and the episode of the cab are none of your affair; nor do thenames of parties, whether personal or government, concern you in theleast. "

"Very well. We'll close up the cards and play the game. The first thingin the game, as I said a moment ago, Crenshaw, is not to squeal when youare in a hole and losing. "

A knock came at the door. Harleston crossed and swung it open. 

A young man--presumably a business man, quietly-dressed--stood atattention and saluted. If he saw the bound man in the chair, his eyesnever showed it. 

"Ah, Whiteside, " Harleston remarked. "I'm glad it is you who was sent. Come in.... You will remain here and guard this man; you will preventany attempt at escape or rescue, even though you are obliged to use theutmost force. I'm for down-town now; and I will communicate with you atthe earliest moment. Meanwhile, the man is in your charge. "

"Yes, Mr. Harleston!" Whiteside answered. 

"I want some breakfast!" snapped Crenshaw. 

"The officer will order from the cafe whatever you wish, " Harlestonreplied; and picking up his stick he departed, the letter and thephotograph in the sealed envelope in his inside pocket. 

As he went out, he smiled pleasantly at Crenshaw. 

V

ANOTHER WOMAN

Harleston walked down Sixteenth Street--the Avenue of the Presidents, ifyou have time either to say it or write it. The Secretary of Stateresided on it, and, as chance had it, he was descending the front stepsas Harleston came along. 

Now the Secretary was duly impressed with all the dignity of hisofficial position, and he rarely failed to pull it on the ordinaryindividual--cockey would be about the proper term. In Harleston, however, he recognized an unusual personage; one to whom the Departmentwas wont to turn when all others had failed in its diplomatic problems;who had some wealth and an absolutely secure social position; whoaccepted no pecuniary recompense for his service, doing it all for pureamusement, and because his government requested it. 

"It's too fine a day to ride to the Department, " said the Secretary. "It's much too fine, really, to go anywhere except to the Rataplan andplay golf. "

Harleston agreed. 

"I'll take you on at four o'clock, " the Secretary suggested. 

"If that is not a command, " said Harleston, "I should like first toconsult you about a matter which arose last night, or rather early thismorning. I was bound for your office now. I can, however, give you themain facts as we go along. "

"Proceed!" said the Secretary. "I'm all attention. "

"It may be of grave importance and it may be of very little--"

"What do you think it is?"

"I think it is of first importance, judging from known facts. IfCarpenter can translate the cipher message, it will--"

"The Department has full faith in your diagnosis, Harleston. You're thesurgeon; you prescribe the treatment and I'll see that it is followed. Now drive on with the story. "

"It begins with a letter, a photograph, a handkerchief, three AmericanBeauty roses--all in the cab of the sleeping horse--"

"God bless my soul!" exclaimed the Secretary. 

"--at one o'clock on Massachusetts Avenue and Eighteenth Street. "

"Is the horse still asleep, Harleston?"

"The horse awoke, and straightway went to his stand in Dupont Circle!"Harleston laughed and related the incidents of the night and earlymorning, finishing his account in the Secretary's private office. 

"Most amazing!" the latter reflected, eyes half-closed as though seeinga mental picture of it all. 

Then he picked up the photograph and studied it awhile. 

"So this is the wonderful Madeline Spencer--who came so near to throwingour friend, the King of Valeria, out of his Archdukeship, and later fromhis throne. I remember the matter most distinctly. I was a friend of theDalberg family of the Eastern Shore, and of Armand Dalberg himself. " Hepaused, and looked again at the picture. "H-u-m! She is a very beautifulwoman, Harleston, a very beautiful woman! I think I have never seen herequal; certainly never her superior. These dark-haired, classicfeatured ones for me, Harleston; the pale blonde type does not appeal. The peroxides come of that class. " Again the photograph did duty. "Icould almost wish that she were the lost lady of the cab of the sleepinghorse--so that I might see her in the flesh. I've never seen her, youknow. "

Harleston smoothed back a smile. The Secretary too was gettingsentimental over the lady, and he had never seen her; though he hadknown of her rare doings; and those doings had, it appeared, had theirnatural effect of enveloping her in a glamour of fascination because ofwhat she had done. 

"You've seen her?" the Secretary asked. 

"I've known her since she was Madeline Cuthbert. Since then she's had ahistory. Possibly, taken altogether she's a pretty bad lot. And she isnot only beautiful; she's fascinating, simply fascinating; it's a rareman, a very rare man, who can be with her ten minutes and not succumb toher manifold attractions of mind and body. "

"You have succumbed?" the Secretary smiled. 

"I have--twenty times at least. You'll join the throng, if she hasoccasion to need you, and gives you half a chance. "

"I'm married!" said the Secretary. 

"I'm quite aware of it!"

"I'm immune!"

"And yet you're wishing to see her in the flesh!" Harleston smiled. 

"I think I can safely take the risk!" smoothing his chin complacently. 

"Other men have thought the same, I believe, and been burned. However, if the lady is in Washington I'll engage that you meet her. Also, I'llacquaint her of your boasted immunity from her _beaux yeux_. "

"The latter isn't within the scope of your duty, sir, " the Secretarysmiled. "Now we'll have Carpenter. "

He touched a button. 

A moment later Carpenter entered; a scholarly-looking man in thefifties; bald as an egg, with the quiet dignity of bearing which goeswith a student, who at the same time is an expert in his particularline--and knows it. He was the Fifth Assistant Secretary, had been theFifth Assistant and Chief of the Cipher Division for years. His superiorwas not to be found in any capital in Europe. His business with thesecret service of the Department was to pull the strings and obtainresults; and he got results, else he would not have been continued inoffice. His specialty, however, was ciphers; and his chief joy was in acase that had a cipher at the bottom. Ciphers were his recreation, aswell as his business. 

The Secretary with a gesture turned him over to Harleston--and Harlestonhanded him the letter. 

"What do you make out of it, Mr. Carpenter?" he asked. 

Carpenter took the letter and examined it for a moment, holding it tothe light, and carefully feeling its texture. 

"Not a great deal cursorily, " he answered. "It's a French paper--thesort, I think, used at the Quay d'Orsay. Have you the envelopeaccompanying it?"

"Here it is!" said Harleston. 

"This envelope, however, is not French; it's English, " Carpenter saidinstantly. "See! a saltire within an orle is the private water-mark ofSergeant & Co. I likely can tell you more after careful examination inmy workshop. "

"How about the message itself?" Harleston asked. 

"It is the Vigenèrie cipher, that's reasonably certain; and, as you areaware, Mr. Harleston, the Vigenèrie is practically impossible ofsolution without the key-word. It is the one cipher that needs nocode-book, nor anything else that can be lost or stolen--the code-wordcan be carried in one's mind. We used it in the De la Porte affair, youwill remember. Indeed, just because of its simplicity it is used moregenerally by every nation than any other cipher. "

"I thought that you might be able to work it out, " said Harleston. "Youcan do it if any one on earth can. "

"I can do some things, Mr. Harleston, " smiled Carpenter deprecatingly, "but I'm not omniscient. For instance: What language is thekey-word--French, Italian, Spanish, English? The message is written onFrench paper, enclosed in an English envelope. --However, the facts youhave may clear up that phase of the matter. "

"Here are the facts, as I know them, " said Harleston. 

Carpenter leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes, and listened. 

 * * * * *

"The message is, I should confidently say, written in English or French, with the chances much in favour of the latter, " he said, when Harlestonhad concluded. "Everyone concerned is English or American; the men whodescended upon you so peculiarly and foolishly, and who showed theirinexperience in every move, were Americans, I take it, as was also thewoman who telephoned you. Moreover, she is fighting them. "

"Then your idea is that the United States is not concerned in thematter?" the Secretary asked. 

"Not directly, yet it may be very much concerned in the result. We willknow more about it after Mr. Harleston has had his interview with thelady. "

"That's so!" the Secretary reflected. "We shall trust you, Harleston, tofind out something definite from her. Keep me advised if anything turnsup. It seems peculiar, and it may be only a personal matter and not an_affaire d'état_. At all events, you've a pleasant interview beforeyou. "

"Maybe I have--and maybe I haven't!" Harleston laughed--and he andCarpenter went out, passing the French Ambassador in the anteroom. 

Harleston went straight to Police Headquarters. The Chief was waitingfor him. 

"I had Thompson, your cab driver, here, " said Ranleigh, "and he tells asomewhat unusual but apparently straight tale; moreover, he is a veryrespectable negro, well known to the guards and the officers on dutyaround Dupont Circle, and they regard him as entirely trustworthy. Hesays that last evening about nine o'clock, when he was jogging downConnecticut Avenue on his way home--he owns his rig--he was hailed by afare in evening dress, top coat, and hat, who directed him to drive weston Massachusetts Avenue. In the neighbourhood of Twenty-second Street, the fare signalled to stop and ordered him to come to the door. There heasked him to hire the horse and cab until this morning, when they wouldbe returned to him at that point. Thompson naturally demurred; whereuponthe man offered to deposit with him in cash the value of the horse andcab, to be refunded upon their return in the morning less fifty dollarsfor their hire. This was too good to let slip and Thompson acquiesced, fixing the value at three hundred and fifty dollars, which sum the manskinned off a roll of yellow-backs. Then the fare buttoned his coataround him, jumped on the box, and drove east on Massachusetts Avenue. This morning the horse and cab were backed up to the curb at theircustomary stand in Dupont Circle, where they were found by officerMurphy shortly after daybreak; before he could report the absence of thedriver, Thompson came up and explained. "

"Can Thompson describe the man?" Harleston asked. 

"Merely that he was clean-shaved, medium-sized, somewhat stout, woreevening clothes, and was, apparently, a gentleman. Thompson thinkshowever, that he could readily recognize the man, so we should let himhave a look at the fellow that's under guard in your apartment. "

"It isn't he, " Harleston explained. "He's slender, with a mustache andimperial. It was Marston, likely. Did any of your officers see cab No. 333 between nine P. M. And this morning?"

"The reports are clean of No. 333, but we are investigating now. It'snot likely, however. Meanwhile, if there is anything else I can do, Mr. Harleston--"

"You can listen to the balance of the episode--beginning at half-pastone this morning, when I found the cab deserted at Eighteenth Street andMassachusetts Avenue, with the horse lying in the roadway, asleep in theshafts.... "

"What do you wish the police to do, Mr. Harleston?" the Superintendentasked at the end. 

"Nothing, until I've seen the Lady of Peacock Alley. Then I'll likelyknow something definite--whether to keep hands off or to get busy. "

"Shan't we even try to locate the two men, in preparation for yourgetting busy?"

"H'm!" reflected Harleston. "Do it very quietly then. You see, I don'tknow whom you're likely to locate, nor whether we want to locate them. "

"The men who visited your apartment are not of the profession, Mr. Harleston. "

"It's their profession that's bothering me!" Harleston laughed. "Why arethree Americans engaged in what bears every appearance of being adiplomatic matter, and of which our State Department knows nothing?"

"There's a woman in it, I believe; likely two, possibly three!" was thesmiling reply. 

"Hump!" said Harleston. "A woman is at the bottom of most things, that'sa fact; she's about the only thing for which a man will betray hiscountry. However, as they're three men there should be three women--"

"One woman is enough--if she is sufficiently fascinating and plays themen off against one another. Though you've plenty of women in the case, Mr. Harleston, if you're looking for the three:--the one whom you're tomeet this afternoon; the unknown who left the Collingwood somysteriously; and the one of the photograph. If the other two are aslovely as she of the photograph they are some trio. I shouldn't care forthe latter lady to tempt me overlong. "

"Wise man!" Harleston remarked, as he arose to go. "I'll advise youafter the interview. Meanwhile you might have the cabby look at thefellow in durance at the Collingwood. Possibly he has seen him before;which may give us a lead--if we find we want a lead. "

The telephone buzzed; Ranleigh answered it--then raised his hand toHarleston to remain. After a moment, he motioned for Harleston to comecloser and held the receiver so that both could hear. 

"I can see you at three o'clock, " Ranleigh said. 

"Three o'clock will be very nice, " came a feminine voice--soft, with abit of a drawl. 

"Very well, " Ranleigh replied. "If you will give me your name--I missedit. Whom am I to expect at three?"

"Mrs. Winton, of the Burlingame apartments. I'll be punctual--and thankyou so much. Good-bye!"

"Anything familiar about the voice?" Ranleigh asked, pushing back theinstrument. 

Harleston shook his head in negation. 

"I thought it might be your Lady of Peacock Alley, for it's about thecab matter. She says that she has something to tell me regarding amysterious cab on Eighteenth Street last night sometime about oneo'clock. "

"There are quite too many women in this affair, " Harleston commented. "However, the Burlingame is almost directly across the street from whereI found the cab, so her story will be interesting--if it's not a plant. "

"And it may be even more interesting if it is a plant, " Ranleigh added. "If you will come in a bit before three, I'll put you where you can seeand hear everything that takes place. "

"I'll do it!" said Harleston. 

VI

THE GREY-STONE HOUSE

Harleston returned at a quarter to three, and Ranleigh showed him intothe small room at the rear, provided with every facility for seeing whatwent on and overhearing and reducing what was said in theSuperintendent's private office. 

Promptly at three, Mrs. Winton was announced by appointment, and wasinstantly admitted. 

She was about thirty years of age, slender, with dark hair and a facejust missing beauty. She was gowned in black, with a bunch of violets ather waist, and she wore a large mesh veil, through which herparticularly fine dark eyes sparkled discriminatingly. 

The Superintendent arose and bowed graciously. Ranleigh was a gentlemanby birth and by breeding. 

"What can I do for you, Mrs. Winton?" he asked, placing a chair forher--where her face would be in full view from the cabinet. 

"You can do nothing for me, sir, " she replied, with a charming smile. "Icame to you as head of the Police Department for the purpose ofdetailing what I saw in connection with the matter I mentioned to youover the telephone. It may be of no value to you--I even may do wrong involunteering my information, but--"

"On the contrary, " the Superintendent interjected, "you confer a greatfavour on this Department by reporting to it any suspiciouscircumstances. It is for it to investigate and determine whether theycall for action. Pray proceed, my dear Mrs. Winton. "

She gave him another charming smile and went on. 

"I was out last evening, and it was after midnight when I got back tothe Burlingame. My apartment is on the third floor front. Instead ofgoing to bed at once, I sat down at the open window to enjoy the gentlebreeze. I must have dozed, for I was aroused by a cab coming upEighteenth and stopping before the large, grey-stone house opposite--therest of the houses are brick--which was unoccupied until two days ago, when it was rented furnished. I live just across the street and hence Inotice these things--casually of course, as one does. I watched the cabwith languid interest; saw the driver descend from the box, which seemeda bit peculiar; but when, instead of going to the door of the cab, hewent up the front steps and into the house--the door of which he openedwith a key that he took from his pocket--my curiosity was aroused. Amoment later, a man in evening dress came leisurely out and sauntered tothe carriage. It seemed to me he was interested in looking around him, and at the houses opposite, rather than at the cab. He remained at thecab, presumably in talk with those within, for several minutes. Presently the door clicked and a woman stepped out, followed by a man. The woman disappeared into the house. The two men drew in so close tothe cab that they were hidden from me; when they reappeared, they werecarrying a woman--or her body--between them. They hurriedly crossed thesidewalk mounted the steps, and the house-door closed behind theminstantly. The noise of the door seemed to arouse the horse, doubtlesshe took it for the door of the cab, and he started slowly up the streettoward Massachusetts Avenue. After walking a short distance, and infront of a vacant lot near the corner, he halted--obviously he realizedthat no one was holding the lines, and he was waiting for his driver toreturn. Just then one of the men put his head out of the doorway, sawthat the horse was no longer before the house, and dodged quickly back. I waited for further developments from the house. None came, except thatin one of the rooms a light was made, but it was behind closed shades. Pretty soon the horse calmly lay down in the shafts, stretched out, andapparently went to sleep. Disturbed by the occurrence, and debating whatI ought to do, I sat a while longer; and I must have dozed again, forwhen I awoke the house was dark, and a man, a strange man, I think, wasstanding beside the cab, and the horse was up. The man was gathering thereins; he fastened them to the driver's seat, spoke to the horse, andthe horse moved off and into Massachusetts Avenue toward Dupont Circle. The man watched him for a moment; then turned and went downMassachusetts Avenue. After waiting a short while, I went to bed. Thismorning, I decided it was well for you to know of the episode. "

"And you have told it wonderfully well, Mrs. Winton, " said theSuperintendent, "wonderfully well, indeed. "

"You don't know how often I rehearsed, " she laughed, "nor how much ofthe essentials I may have omitted!"

"Not much, I fancy. However, you'll not object, I suppose, to answeringa few questions as to details. "

"I wish you to ask anything that suggests itself, " she replied. "I've anappointment at the Chateau at five; just give me time to keep it. "

"We'll get through long before five!" the Superintendent smiled, thoughhis shrewd grey eyes were coldly critical. It was most unlikely that shewas the Lady of Peacock Alley; yet all things are possible where a womanis concerned, as he knew from experience. "About what time was it whenthe cab stopped before the house?" he asked. 

"About one o'clock, as near as I can judge, " she answered. 

"What was the interval between the driver's going into the house andthe man in evening clothes coming out?"

"Scarcely any interval--not more than a minute. "

"Do you know how long a minute is?" said Ranleigh, drawing out hiswatch. 

"Not exactly!" she admitted. 

"Do you mind if I test you?"

"Not in the least. "

"Then tell me when it is a minute.... "

"Now?" said she. 

"Fourteen seconds!" he smiled. 

"Fourteen seconds!" she exclaimed incredulously "It's not possible. "

"You're considerably above the average, Mrs. Winton. However, it dependsmuch on what you're doing at the moment. Last night when you werewatching, not estimating, you probably were nearer right as to theinterval. When, may I ask, did the driver reappear?"

"He didn't reappear--at least that I saw; he may have come out of thehouse while I dozed. "

"Might not the man that you saw last have been he?"

"I'm perfectly sure it wasn't. The driver was medium-sized and stout, this man was tall and slender. I couldn't have been mistaken. "

Ranleigh nodded. Her story was testing up very well on the known points. 

"Now, Mrs. Winton, can you give some description of the woman in thecase--her appearance--how she was dressed--anything to aid us inidentifying her?"

"I'm afraid I can't be of much help, " Mrs. Winton replied. "She was, Ithink, clad in a dark street gown. In the uncertain electric light, Icould not distinguish the colour--and the men were so close to her I hadlittle chance to see. About all I'm sure of is that it was a woman;slender and about the average height. I did not see her face. "

The Chief nodded again. 

"What about the house, Mrs. Winton? Did you see anything unusual beforetonight?"

"I saw no one but the servants--though I didn't look quite all thetime, " she added with a smile. "I'm not unduly curious, I think, MajorRanleigh, under the, to me, unusual circumstances; and in mitigation ofmy curiosity, I've told no one of the matter. "

"You're a woman of rare discretion, Mrs. Winton, " the Superintendentreplied. 

"I fear I'm a busy-body, " she returned. 

"I wish then there were more busy-bodies of your sort. Tell me, couldyou recognize the men?"

"Not with any assurance. --Neither could I recognize the occupants of thehouse, " she added. "The truth is, though you may doubt, that I scarcelynotice them; but one can't see a to-let-unfurnished sign on a houseopposite for six months, without remarking its sudden disappearance fromthe landscape. "

"I should say that you wouldn't be normal if you didn't notice--andcomment, too, " Ranleigh declared. "And the Department is much indebtedto you for the information, and it appreciates the spirit that moves youin the matter. "

Mrs. Winton arose to go--the Superintendent accompanied her into thehall, rang the bell for the elevator, and bowed her into it. 

"Don't you wish to know the result?" he inquired with a quizzicalsmile, as he put her in the car. 

"I'm not unduly curious!" she laughed. 

When he returned, Harleston was standing in his office lighting acigarette. 

"It's infernally close, not to mention hot, in that cabinet of yours, "he observed; "though one can see and hear. "

"Ever see her before?" the Superintendent asked. 

"I don't recall it!"

"Ever hear the voice?"

"No. "

"What do you think of her?"

"Good to look at, truthful, sincere. "

"And her story?"

"Simple statement of fact, I take it. "

"Hum!" said Ranleigh. 

"Which means?" Harleston asked. 

"Nothing at present; may be nothing at any time. I never believe a storytill its truth is established--and then I'm still in a receptive stateof mind. However, it does seem true, and Mrs. Winton herself supportsit; which is enough for the time. "

"At any rate, we've found the lady of the cab, " Harleston remarked. "Orrather we've located her as of one o'clock, which is shortly before Ihappened on the scene. "

"Is there anything in the description that corresponds to the lady ofthe photograph?"

"It all corresponds; slight, above medium-height, dark gown--she affectsdark gowns;--but thousands of women are slight, above medium-height, andwear dark gowns. "

"At least it eliminates the very tall and the stout, " Ranleigh observed. "Let me ask you, what do you make of Mrs. Winton's appointment at theChateau at five, and her being gowned in black?"

"A mere coincidence, I think. What would be her object in telling thisstory to you between three and four o'clock, and meeting me at five torecover the lost document. "

"Search me! I'm sure only of this: there are too many women in thisaffair, Mr. Harleston, too many women! Man is a reasoning being andsomewhat consistent; but women--" a gesture ended the remark. 

"Just so!" Harleston laughed. "And now for the Lady of Peacock Alley!"

VII

SURPRISES

Peacock Alley was in full gorgeousness when Harleston, just at fiveo'clock, paused on the landing above the marble stairs inside the FStreet entrance and surveyed the motley throng--busy with looking andbeing looked at, with charming and being charmed, with wondering andbeing wondered at, with aping and being aped, with patronizing and beingpatronized, with flattering and being flattered, with fawning and beingfawned upon, with deceiving and being deceived, with bluffing and beingbluffed, with splurging, with pretending, with every trick and artificeand sham and chicanery that society and politics know, or can fancy. 

Harleston was familiar with it all for too many years even to accord ita glance of contemptuous indifference--when he had anything else tooccupy his mind; and just now his mind was on a lady in black withthree American Beauties on the gown. 

He went slowly down the steps to the main corridor and joined thebuzzing, kaleidoscopic crowd. 

Somewhere on the floor above, an orchestra was playing for the_dansant_; and the music came fitfully through the chatter andconfusion. He nodded to some acquaintances, bowed formally to others, shook hands when it could not be avoided; all the while progressingslowly down the corridor in search of three red roses on a black gown. 

And near the far end he saw, for an instant through a rift in the crowd, the three roses on a black gown, but not the face above them; the nextinstant the rift closed. However, he knew now that she was here andwhere to find her, and he made his way through the press toward whereshe was waiting for him. 

Then the crowd suddenly opened--as crowds do--and he saw, on the sameside of the corridor and scarcely ten feet apart, two slender women inblack and wearing red roses; one was Mrs. Winton, the other he had neverseen. 

It brought him to a sharp pause. Then he smiled. Ranleigh was right!There were altogether too many women in this case. And which one waswaiting for him? He knew neither, but there was the chance that the onehe was to meet knew him. 

And so he adventured it, walking slowly toward them, and taking carethat they should notice him. 

They did. 

Mrs. Winton glanced at him casually and impersonally. 

The unknown, whose face was from him, turned sharply when he dropped hisstick, and looked at him unrecognizingly. As her eyes came down theyrested on the other woman. 

She gave a subdued exclamation, arose and threaded her way to theopposite side of the corridor. 

Harleston, glancing back, saw the move, and swinging over he followed. He would speak to her--meanwhile, he was looking at her. So far, atleast, both were good to look at; they must be good to look at in thisbusiness, it is part of the stock in trade. 

"Good afternoon, Madame X, " he said, bowing before her. 

"Why, how do you do, Mr. Harleston, " she smiled, giving him her handand making room beside her on the settee. "I'm delighted to see you, just delighted!"

"It is nice to meet again, isn't it?" he returned. "When did you get totown?"

"Only yesterday! You live in Washington, now, don't you?"

"Yes, off and on. It's my headquarters for refitting and startingafresh. What do you say to a turn at the _dansant_?"

"I'm ready, I'm sure, " she replied. "Afterward we'll--"

"Discuss other matters!" he interjected. 

She gave him an amused look, and they passed down the corridor and upthe marble steps to the elevator. 

They were dancing the _Maxixe_ when they entered. 

"Do you mind if we don't do it on the heels?" said she. "I think it'sprettier the other way. "

"So do I, " said he, and they drifted down the room. 

He knew almost everyone on the floor; the women nodded to him, thenstared coldly at his companion; the men too stared at her--but notcoldly--and when they thought about it, which was seldom of late, noddedto him, and resumed their staring. 

And Harleston did not wonder--indeed, had it been otherwise, it wouldhave argued a sudden paucity of appreciation on the part of the smartset there assembled. For this slender young person in black, a small haton her head, topping hair of flaming red, an exquisite figure and acharming pair of slender high-arched feet, was worth anyone's staring, be it either coldly or with frank interest. And she did not seem to knowit; which in this day of smug and blatant personal appreciation of one'sgood points--feminine points--is something of a rarity in the sex. Itmay be, however that Madame X was fully aware of her beauty, but she wasmodest about it, or seemed to be; which amounts to the same thing. 

They sat down at a remote table and Harleston ordered two colddrinks--an apollinaris with a dash of lemon for her, a Jerry Hill forhimself. He noticed that the men were looking and wavering and hedeliberately turned his chair around and gave them his back. He had noobjection to presenting the Lady of Peacock Alley to his men friends, but just at this time it was not convenient. The adventure was ratherunusual, and the lady altogether attractive and somewhat fascinating; hechose, for the present at least, to go it alone. Moreover, they were tomeet on a matter of her business and by her appointment. 

He had suggested the _dansant_ that he might study her. And the more hesaw of her, the more he was struck by her unaffected naturalness andapparent sincerity. Not a word, not even a suggestion while they weredancing, of the matter of the cab; it was as though she were just an oldfriend. And her dancing was a delight--such a delight, indeed, that hewas reluctant to have it end. Somehow, one gets to know quickly one'spartner in the _dansant_. 

"This is perfectly entrancing, Mr. Harleston, " she said presently, "butdon't you think we would better hunt a retired corner and discuss othermatters?"

"If you will dine with me when we've discussed them, " he replied. 

"It's only six o'clock, " she smiled; "will the discussion take so long?"

"It depends somewhat on when you wish to dine, and somewhat on thecharacter of the discussion. "

Her smile grew into a quiet, rippling laugh. 

"Come along, " she answered. "I've found a secluded nook in the bigred-room downstairs. It's cozy and nice, and I've had the maid reserveit for me. Afterwards, " with a sharp stab of her brown eyes, "I'lldecide whether I'll dine with you. "

The place was as she had said, cozy and nice and secluded; and he puther into it--where the subdued light would fall on her face. 

"Very good, sir, " she smiled; "I am not afraid of the light. "

"Nor would I be if I were you, " he replied. 

She shrugged her shoulders ever so slightly. 

"Why fence?" she asked. 

"Why, indeed?" he replied. 

"And why, may I ask, did you meet me here this afternoon?"

"Curiosity--later, satisfaction and appreciation. "

"And why do you think I wanted to meet you?"

"Heaven knows!" he replied. 

"Suppose, Mr. Harleston, we resume the conversation just where we leftoff last night. Your last remark then was that I had a chance to get thearticles, but no one else had a chance. I'm here now for my chance. "

"And that chance depends on a number of contingencies, " he replied:"whether I have the desired articles; whether you have the title tothem, or the right of possession to them; whether they concern privatematters or public matters; if the latter, whether the United States isconcerned. "

"We can assume the first, " said she. "I know for a fact that you tookthe articles in question from the cab, which you found deserted before avacant lot. "

"How do you know it?" Harleston asked. 

"Because, as I told you over the telephone, you were seen--in fact, Isaw you. I saw you light a match inside the cab, come out with theenvelope, look it over quickly, and put it in your pocket. You'll admitthese facts?"

"I am advised by my counsel that I'm not obliged to answer!" he laughed. 

"On the ground that it will incriminate you?" she asked quickly. "Isn'tthat tantamount to admitting the fact?"

"That is a matter of argument, it seems to me. "

She smiled good naturedly and went on:

"As to your second contingency, Mr. Harleston; the envelope and itscontents were left with me for delivery to another party--which Ibelieve gives me the right of possession, as you term it. At any rate, it gives me a better title than yours. "

"If the party who left them with you had a good title, " he amended. "If, however, he obtained them from--a deserted cab, say--then his titlewould be no better than you've put in me; not so good, in fact, foraccording to your tale I have the envelope. "

She shrugged again. 

"Now as to your third contingency, " she went on, "I am not able to saywhat is the nature of the document, nor whom nor what nation itconcerns. "

"You mean that you're ignorant of its contents and its nature?" heasked. 

She met his glance frankly. "I mean that I haven't any idea of itscontents or its purpose. "

He slowly tapped his cigarette against the swinging brass ash-receiver. 

"Wouldn't it be well, my dear Madame X, to lay your cards on thetable--all your cards?"

"I'm perfectly willing, if you'll do likewise, " she replied instantly. 

He looked at her thoughtfully. 

"Very well, " he returned. "Let me see your hand and you shall see mine. "

"This one?" she smiled, holding it up. 

He leaned over and took the long, slim fingers in the tips of hisown--and she let him. 

"It's mighty pretty, " he said, with assumed gravity. "Am I to have itin place of the facts--or along with them?"

"Neither at present, " withdrawing her hand. "Business first, Mr. Harleston--and cards on the table. "

"You're to play, " he smiled, "and whenever you will. "

Ordinarily he made up his mind very quickly as to another's sincerity, but she puzzled him. What was the game? And if there were no game so faras she was concerned, how did she happen to be in the very midst of it, and trying to recover--or to obtain--the cipher letter and thephotograph? It was a queer situation? the reasonable inferences wereagainst her. Yet--

"I hardly know where to begin, " she was saying. 

"Begin at the beginning, " he advised. 

He must appear to credit her story that she was concerned only as aninnocent associate. And it was not difficult to do, sitting there besideher in the subdued light, under the witching tones of her voice, and thealluring fascination of her face. The face was not perfect; far from it, if by perfect is meant features accordant with one another and true totype. Her hair was flaming red; her eyes were brown, dark brown, acertain pensiveness in them most inaccordant with the hair; her nose wasslender, with sensitive nostrils; her mouth was generous with lips atrifle full; her teeth were exquisitely white and symmetrical--and sheshowed them with due modesty, yet with proper appreciation of theirbeauty. 

Altogether she was a very charming picture; and throwing away hiscigarette, he lighted a cigar and settled back to watch the play of herfeatures and hear the melody of her voice. He was a trifle impressedwith the lady--and he was willing that the tale require time andattention. Furthermore, it was his business to observe her critically, so that he might decide as to the matter in hand. In the presentinstance his business was very much to his liking, but that did not makeit any the less business. 

Something of which the lady may have suspected and was prepared tohumour. A man must be humoured at times--particularly when the woman istrying for something that can only be come at through his favour oracquiescence. 

"To begin at the beginning will make it a long story, " she warned. 

"Then by all means begin it there, " he answered. 

"You can endure it?"

"I'm very comfortable; we are alone; and the _light_ is admirable. "

"Same here!" she smiled, with a tantalizing glance from the brown eyes. "Can you start me?"

"I might, but I won't. The glory shall all be yours. "

"I'm glad there is to be some glory in this affair; there's been littleenough so far. However, to begin. "

"No hurry, my dear Madame X. "

"Don't you want my decision as to dinner?" she asked. 

"You can continue the narrative while we dine. Now to begin. "

"Then vanish Madame X, and enter Mistress Clephane. "

At that moment a woman and a man entered the room from the corridor bythe middle door, and crossed to a divan in the corner farthest from Mrs. Clephane and Harleston. The former had her back to them; Harleston wasfacing their way and saw them. 

The man was middle-aged, bald, and somewhat stout--and Harlestonrecognized one of his visitors of the early morning. The woman wassinuous, with raven hair, dead white complexion, a perfectly lovelyface, and a superb figure. Harleston would have known that walk and thatfigure anywhere and at any time even if he had not seen her face. 

It was Madeline Spencer. 

VIII

THE STORY

Harleston quickly swung his chair around so that the broad back hid Mrs. Clephane and himself. He was quite sure that she had noticed the pair;though when he glanced at her she was looking thoughtfully at him, as ifconsidering where to begin her story. 

"Do you know the two who just came in and are sitting in the farcorner, " he asked; "the slender woman and the bald-headed man?"

"No, " she answered; "except that she is an exceedingly fine-lookingwoman--as you doubtless have noted. "

"I've noted other things!" he smiled. 

"About her?"

"No, not about her. "

She laughed, deliciously he thought. 

"I best get on with my tale, " she said. "So, once upon a time, whichmeans, to be accurate, about ten days ago, I took a steamer atCherbourg for New York. On the boat was a Madame Durrand, whom I hadknown on the Continent and in London for a number of years. Neither wasaware of the other's sailing until we met aboard. I think that it was onthe fourth day out she asked me to come to her state-room; there shetold me that she was a secret agent of the French Government and thebearer of a most important letter from a high official, written howeverin his private capacity to their Ambassador in Washington; that she hada presentiment ill fortune would befall her on the way; that there wasno one else on the ship in whom she trusted; and that she wanted me toaccompany her to Washington, and, if she were to meet with an accident, to deliver the letter to the Ambassador. I consented, wishing to obligeher, and being bound for Washington. She showed me where she carried theletter, and gave me the verbal message that went with it, which was thename of the Minister and that he sent it in his private capacity and notofficially. 

"I'm not in the secret service of a government, as you doubtless caninfer from my knowledge of matters and use of technical language!" shesmiled. "And the affair rather fascinated me, I admit, by itsunusualness. Moreover, I knew Madame Durrand intimately--how intimatelymay be inferred from the circumstances. 

"Well, we landed, had our baggage chalked, and went to the Plaza for thenight. In the morning, we took a taxi to the Pennsylvania Station, wereheld up by traffic, and were hurrying down the marble steps to catch ourtrain, when a man, hurrying also, jostled Madame Durrand. Her heelcaught and she plunged head first down to the landing. Of course mensprang forward to her assistance and picked her up--with her wrist andankle broken. She was plucky, however, wonderfully plucky. She did notfaint, as I'm sure I should have done; she just turned ghastly pale--andsaid to me, with a bit of smile, motioning for me to bend over her sothat none could hear:

"'I told you so, Edith. Here is where you come in. ' She slid her handunder her skirt, drew out the envelope, and slipped it to me. 'Hurry!'she said. 'You can yet make the train. '

"But I was obdurate; I wouldn't leave her until she was in a hospitaland comfortable. And when she saw I meant it, she smiled--and fainted. Well, instead of the ten o'clock train, I caught the twelve, whichshould have landed me here at five, but a series of delays, due toaccidents ahead; put us at seven. It was, I thought, too late to delivermy letter that evening, so I took a taxi here and had dinner. Then Ipaid a short visit to some friends at the Shoreham and returned shortlybefore midnight. I found two notices that I had been called on thetelephone at 10:15 and 11:00, by parties who declined to give theirnames or leave a call. This struck me as queer since no one knew of mybeing in town except my friends at the Shoreham. A moment after Ientered my room, the telephone rang. I answered. A man's voice cameback. 

"'Who is that?' said he. 

"'Whom do you want?' said I. 

"'I wish to speak to Mrs. Clephane. '

"'Very well, ' said I; 'I'm Mrs. Clephane. '

"'Oh, Mrs. Clephane, we have been trying for you since ten o'clock!'said he. 'The Ambassador wishes to see you at once. Can you be ready tocome in fifteen minutes--we'll send a carriage for you?'

"'How did you know'--I began, then stopped. 'Yes, I'll be ready, ' saidI; 'but let one of the staff come with the carriage. '

"'Oh, of course!' he replied. 'In fifteen minutes, madame?'

"I didn't fancy going out at midnight, yet I had undertaken the matterand I would see it through. I had not changed from my travelling suitand it hadn't a pocket in it; nor had I one such as Madame Durrandemployed, so I was carrying the letter pinned inside my waist. Now Itook it out and put it in my hand-bag, all the while thinking over theaffair and liking it less the more I thought. It was pretty late atnight, and there was something suspicious about the affair. I went tothe desk and hurriedly wrote a note to the friends that I had just left;then I called a page, and ordered him to take it at once to theShoreham. On the envelope I had written the instruction that it was notto be delivered until morning. 

"As I finished, the telephone rang and Mr. And Mrs. Buissard, I thinkthat was the name, were announced as coming by appointment. I went downat once. Mrs. Buissard was in evening dress, a pretty, vivacious woman, Mr. Buissard was a man of thirty, slender, with a little blackmoustache and black hair. Somehow I didn't like him; and I was glad hehad brought his wife--she was charming. 

"They had a cab instead of a car or taxi. We got in and drove upFourteenth to H, and out H to Sixteenth. As we swung in Sixteenth, theman leaned forward to the window on my side. 

"'Look at that!' he exclaimed excitedly. 

"As I turned to look, the woman flung her silk wrap over my head andtwisted it tightly about my neck. 

"I tried to cry out, but a hand closed over my mouth and only a weakgurgle responded. 

"'Listen, Mrs. Clephane!' said the man, 'We mean you no harm. Give usthe package you have for the French Ambassador, and we will at oncereturn you to your hotel. '

"I'm pretty much a coward, yet I managed to hold myself together and notfaint, and to say nothing. I didn't care a straw for the letter, but Ididn't fancy being defeated at that stage of the game. I tried tothink--but thinking is a bit difficult under such circumstances. Just asthe wrap went over my head, my hand happened to be on my hand-bag. Iquietly opened it, dropped the letter close along the seat, and closedthe bag. Here was a slight chance to balk them--at all events, it wasthe only course occurring to me at the moment. 

"'Has she fainted?' asked the man. 

"'I think so, ' said the woman, 'or she is scared to death. '

"Here was a suggestion--and I took it. I remained perfectly quiet. 

"'Well, ' was his answer, 'we're almost there, and it's a lucky chance. No trouble at all, Seraphina. '

"I had felt the cab round several corners; almost immediately after thelast it stopped. I'm a trifle hazy as to what they did; but finally Iwas passed out of the cab like a corpse and carried into a house. Therethe wrap was removed from my head; I blinked uncertainly, and lookedaround in a bewildered fashion. 

"'Where am I?' I gasped. 

"The woman replied, 'You're in absolutely no danger, Mrs. Clephane. Wewant the package you have for the French Ambassador; when we have it, wewill send you back to your hotel. '

"'What is to be done with the cab?' someone asked. 

"'Nothing, ' another replied. 'The horse will find his way to his stand;he's almost there. '

"'But I haven't any package!' I protested. 

"'Come, come!' the woman answered briskly. 'You have it about yousomewhere; that was what you were going to the Embassy to deliver?'

"'Who are you?' I demanded. 

"'It matters not who we are--we want the package. '

"'The package is not with me, ' I remarked. 'It's locked in the hotelsafe. '

"'Will you permit yourself to be searched?' she asked, with an amusedsmile. I knew it was a threat. 

"'I'm perfectly willing to submit to a search by _you_, ' I said. 'Thequicker you set about it, the quicker I'll be released. I don't care forthese diplomatic affairs; they may be regular but they seemunnecessarily dangerous. I was simply a substitute anyway, and I won'tsubstitute again; though how you people discovered it I don't see. '

"'Because you're new at the game, ' she replied, as we passed into thedrawing-room. 

"She closed the door--and I soon satisfied her that the package was notconcealed about me. 

"'I may go now?' I inquired. 

"'I think so, but I must consult the Chief, ' she replied. 'I'll be backin a minute. '

"They seemed high-class knaves at least; but it was quite evident thatthe diplomatic game and its secret service were distinctly not in myline. I want no more of them even to oblige a friend in distress. I hatea mess!"

"I'm very glad for this mess, " Harleston interjected. "Otherwise Ishould not have--met you. "

"And you are the only compensation for the mess, Mr. Harleston!" shesmiled. 

She said it so earnestly Harleston was almost persuaded that she meantit--though he replied with a shrug and a sceptical laugh. 

"But the woman was long in returning, " Mrs. Clephane resumed; "and aftera while I put out the light, and going to the window raised the shade. The cab was no longer before the house; it had moved a little distanceto the left, and the horse was lying down in the shafts. As I wasdebating whether to risk the jump from the window, a man came down thestreet and halted at the cab. --That man was you, Mr. Harleston. The restof the tale you know much better than I--and the material portion youare to tell me, or rather to give me. "

"How did you know the man at the cab was I? You didn't recognize me inthe corridor, this afternoon. "

"Oh, yes I did--but I waited to see if you would follow me, or would goup to the other woman in black and roses. "

"I never was in doubt!" Harleston laughed. "I told you, on thetelephone, that I could pick you out in a crowd; after a glimpse of you, I could--" he ended with a gesture. 

"Still pick me out, " she supplied. "Well, the important thing is thatyou _did_ pick me out--and that you're a gentleman. Also you forget thatyour picture has been pretty prominent lately, on account of the DuPortal affair; and besides you've been pointed out to me a number oftimes during the last few years as something of a celebrity. So, yousee, it was not a great trick to recognize you under the electriclights, even at one o'clock in the morning. "

Harleston nodded. It was plausible surely. Moreover, he was prepared toaccept her story; thus far it seemed straightforward and extremelycredible. 

"It was about three when you telephoned to me--where were you then?" heasked. 

"At the Chateau. They were kind enough to release me about threeo'clock, and to send me back in a private car--at least, it wasn't ataxi. Now, have you any other questions?"

"I think not, for the present. "

"Have I satisfied you that my tale is true?"

"I am satisfied, " he replied. 

"Then you will give me the letter?" she said joyfully. 

"And what of the roses?"

"I presented them to you last night. "

"And of this handkerchief?" drawing it from his pocket. 

She took the bit of lace, glanced at it, and handed it back. 

"It is not mine, " she replied. "Probably it's the other woman's. " Sheheld out her hand, the most symmetrical hand Harleston had ever seen. "My letter, please, Mr. Harleston. "

"I no longer have the letter, " said Harleston. 

"Then why did you--" she exclaimed; "but you can lay your hand on it?"

"I can lay my hand on it, " he smiled--"whenever you convince me, or Iascertain, that the letter does not concern directly or indirectly thediplomatic affairs of the United States. You forget that was theconcluding stipulation, Mrs. Clephane. Meanwhile the letter will not, you may feel assured, fall into the possession of the party whoattempted to steal it from you. "

"What does it all mean?" she asked, leaning forward. "Who beside Franceare the parties concerned?"

"It means that some nation is ready to take desperate chances to preventyour letter from reaching the French Ambassador. What actuates it, whether to learn its contents or to prevent its present delivery, Inaturally do not know. " Then he laughed. "Would it interest you verymuch to learn, Mrs. Clephane, that I was visited last night by threemen, who tried, at the point of the revolver, to force the letter fromme?"

"You surely don't mean it!" she exclaimed. 

And with this exclamation the last doubt in Harleston's mind of Mrs. Clephane's having aught to do with the night attack vanished--andhaving acquitted her in that respect, there was scarcely any question asto the sincerity and truth of her tale. 

As it has been remarked previously, Mrs. Clephane was very good to lookat--and what is more to the point with Harleston, she looked back. 

"I had all sorts of adventures, beginning with the cab of the sleepinghorse, three crushed roses, a bit of lace, and a letter, " he laughed;"and the adventures haven't yet ended, and they grow more interesting asthey progress. "

"They didn't get the letter?" she asked quickly. 

"They got nothing but the trouble of getting nothing, " he replied. 

"Where is the letter now, Mr. Harleston--is it safe from them?"

There was a note of concern in her voice, and it puzzled him. What elsedid she know--or didn't she know anything? Was it only his habit indiplomatic affairs to doubt everything that was not undoubtable. 

"The letter, " he replied, "is with the expert of the State Departmentfor translation. "

"What language is it in?" she demanded. 

"Cipher language--and a particularly difficult cipher it is. Can youhelp us out, Mrs. Clephane?"

"I can't, Mr. Harleston; I don't know anything about ciphers. And I toldyou the whole truth when I said that I neither knew what the envelopecontained nor its purpose. What disturbs me is how to explain to theFrench Ambassador the loss of the letter. "

"Tell him the exact truth, " said Harleston. "It would have been betterpossibly had you told him this morning. "

"I thought you would return the letter to me, " she replied. 

"I likely should, had I seen you before I turned it over to the StateDepartment. Now that it has passed out of my hands, it is a matter forthe Secretary to decide. "

"But he will be advised by you!" she exclaimed. 

"Advised, yes, --dominated, no. The only chance of the letter beingreturned to you, is that it does not affect this government. "

"Diplomacy then is willing to stoop to any crime or to profit by anywrong?" she mocked. 

"I am afraid I must admit the accusation. Everything is fair in loveand war, you know--and diplomacy is only a species of war. "

"Have I no redress for the outrage upon me, nor for the loss of theletter by reason of that outrage?"

"I'm afraid you'll find the wheels of justice very slow-moving--whenthey have to do with affairs diplomatic. "

"But the letter, sir?"

"You must remember, Mrs. Clephane, that I found the letter in anabandoned cab. "

"And now that you know to whom it belongs, " she flashed, "you will notreturn it?"

"Because I can't! Which brings us back to where we started--and todinner. "

"I will not dine with you!"

"Then let me dine with you!"

"No!"

"Fix it any way you wish, only so that we dine together, " he persisted. "I've the cosiest little table reserved for us, and--"

"Mr. Harleston, " the page was calling. "Mr. Harles--"

Harleston turned, and the boy saw him. 

"Telephone, sir, " said he, giving Harleston the call slip. 

"Will you excuse me a moment, Mrs. Clephane?" Harleston asked, andhurried out--conscious all the while that Madeline Spencer and hercompanion were watching him. 

"This is Police Headquarters, Mr. Harleston, " came the voice over thewire. "Major Ranleigh wants to know if you will meet him at his officeat ten o'clock tonight. The Major was called out suddenly or he wouldhave telephoned you, himself!"

"I'll be on hand, " Harleston replied, hung up the receiver, and hurriedback. 

As he entered the red-room, he shot a covert glance toward the placewhere Mrs. Spencer and her companion had been sitting. 

They were gone!

"Yes! Yes!" said he under his breath, and turned toward the corner wherehe had left Mrs. Clephane. 

Mrs. Clephane was gone. 

IX

DECOYED

Harleston faced about and surveyed the entire room. Then not contentwith surveying, he deliberately walked through it, and satisfied himselfthat Mrs. Clephane was not there--nor Madeline Spencer, nor herbald-headed companion. 

He took a turn up and down the corridor, and up and down again. Theywere not there. 

He even walked through the dining-rooms. 

Nothing!

"Hum!" said he, at length--and returned to the red-room, and to hischair. It was quite possible that Mrs. Clephane would be back in amoment--yet somehow he doubted. 

He waited for a quarter of an hour, and she did not come. He madeanother tour of Peacock Alley, the lobby, the dining-rooms, and back tothe red-room. 

Nothing!

He looked at his watch--it was half-after-seven o'clock. He would waitfifteen minutes longer. Then, if she had not come, he would go about hisbusiness--which, at present, was to dine. 

He sat with his watch in his hand, looking down the room and at thosewho entered. 

The fifteen minutes passed. He put up his watch and arose; the wait wasended. 

He crossed the corridor to the dining-room. 

"The table in yonder corner, Philippe, " he said, to the bowinghead-waiter. 

"One, Monsieur Harleston?" the man replied; and himself escorted himover and placed him, and took his order for dinner. From which facts itcan be inferred that Harleston was something of a personage at the bigcaravansary. 

The clams had just been placed before him, and he was dipping the firstone in the cocktail, when Madeline Spencer and the bald-headed manentered and passed to a table--reserved for them--at the far side of theroom. Harleston knew that she saw him, though apparently she had notglanced his way. Here was another move in the game; but what the game, and what the immediate object?

His waiter whisked away the clam cocktail and put down the clearturtle. 

As Harleston took up his spoon, a page spoke a word to Philippe, whomotioned him to Harleston's corner. The next instant the boy was there, a letter on the extended salver--then he faded away. 

Harleston put aside the letter until he had finished his soup; then hepicked it up and turned it over. It was a hotel envelope, and addressedsimply: "Mr. Harleston, " in a woman's handwriting--full and free, and, unusual to relate, quite legible. He ran his knife under the flap anddrew out the letter. It was in the same hand that wrote the address. 

"DEAR MR. HARLESTON:

"I've just seen someone whom I wish to avoid, so won't you be goodenough to dine with me in my apartment. It's No. 972, and cosy andquiet--and please come at once. I'm waiting for you--with an explanationfor my disappearance. 

"EDITH CLEPHANE. "

"Hum!" said Harleston, and drummed thoughtfully on the table. Then hearose, said a word to Philippe as he passed, and went out to theelevator. 

He got off at the ninth floor and walked down the corridor to No. 972. It was a corner and overlooked Pennsylvania Avenue and FourteenthStreet. He tapped lightly on the door; almost immediately it was openedby a maid--a very pretty maid, he noticed--who, without waiting for himto speak, addressed him as Monsieur Harleston and told him that Madamewas expecting him. 

Harleston handed the maid his hat, stick, and gloves, and crossed theprivate hall into the drawing-room. 

As he passed the doorway, a heavy silk handkerchief was flung around hisneck from behind, and instantly tightened over his larynx; at the sametime his arms were pinioned to his side. He could neither make a soundnor raise a hand. He was being garroted. At his first struggle thegarrote was twisted; it was be quiet or be strangled. And, queer as itmay seem, his first thought was of the garroters of India and theinstant helplessness of their victims. In fact, so immediate was hishelplessness, that it sapped all will to be otherwise than quiescent. 

"Two can play at this game, Mr. Harleston, " said a familiar voice, andCrenshaw stepped out in front. "I'm in a better humour now, and more mynatural self; I was somewhat peeved in the Collingwood--due to latehours, I think. By the way, it isn't an especially pleasant game for thefellow who is it, Mr. Harleston? I'll take your answer for granted--orwe'll let my distinguished colleague answer for you--you know Mr. Sparrow, sir?" as the man with the garrote put his head over Harleston'sshoulder. "Answer for Mr. Harleston will you, Sparrow?"

"No, it is not, Mr. Crenshaw, " said Sparrow. 

"I neglected to ask if you're not surprised to see me, Mr. Harleston?"

"I am indeed, " said Sparrow. 

"I regret that it was inconvenient for me to remain longer in yourapartment, Mr. Harleston--and so I exchanged places with yourdetective, " Crenshaw explained. 

"I'm quite content, Mr. Crenshaw, " Sparrow replied. 

"Yes, certainly, and thank you, Mr. Harleston, " Crenshaw smiled. "Andnow, with your permission, sir, we shall inspect the contents of yourpockets, to the end that we may find a certain letter that you wotof--also ourselves. "

After the first warning twist, the garrote had been relaxed just enoughto permit Harleston breath sufficient for life, yet not sufficient foran outcry; moreover, he knew that at the first murmur of a yell thewrist behind him would turn and he would be throttled intounconsciousness. 

There was nothing to do but be quiet and as complaisant as his captorswished, and await developments. And the irony of such asituation--happening in the most crowded and most popular hotel in theCapital, with hundreds of guests at hand, and scores of servants poisedto obey one's slightest nod--struck him with all the force of itssupreme absurdity. It was but another proof of the proposition that oneis never so alone as in the midst of a throng. 

He smiled--somewhat chillily, it must be admitted--and whispered, hisspeaking voice being shut off by the garrote. 

"The quicker you look, the sooner I shall, I hope, be released from thisrather uncomfortable position. "

"Good eye!" said Crenshaw. "You're a reasonable man, Mr. Harleston, it's a pleasure to do business with you. "

"Proceed!" Harleston whispered. "I haven't the letter with me, as youshould know. Do I look so much like a novice? Furthermore, if I am notmistaken, I told you that I was going direct to the State Department todeliver the letter for translation so how could I have it now?"

"We're not debating, we're searching, " Crenshaw sneered; "though it mayoccur to you that a copy is as easy of translation as the original. However, we will proceed with the inspection--the proof of the caviareis in the roe of the sturgeon. "

"Then I pray you open the fish at once, " said Harleston. "I can't assistyou in my present attitude, so get along, Mr. Crenshaw, if you please. You interrupted my dinner--I was just at the soup; and you may believeme when I say that I'm a bit hungry. "

"With your permission, " Crenshaw replied, proceeding to go throughHarleston's pockets, and finding nothing but the usual--which hereplaced. 

He came last to the breast-pocket of the coat; in it were the wallet andone letter--the letter that had brought Harleston here. 

"It caught you!" Crenshaw smiled. "There's no bait like a pretty woman!"

Harleston raised his eyebrows and shrugged his answer. 

"And a rather neat trap, wasn't it--we're very much pleased with it. "

"You'll not be pleased with what it produces, " Harleston smiled. 

"It has produced you, " the other mocked; "that's quite some production, don't you think? And now, as this letter has served its purpose, I'lltake the liberty of destroying it, " tearing it into bits and putting thebits in his pockets, "lest one of us be liable for forgery. Now for thepocket-book; you found something in mine, you may remember, Mr. Harleston. "

Harleston gave a faint chuckle. They would find nothing in hispocket-book but some visiting and membership cards, a couple ofaddresses and a few yellow-backs and silver certificates. 

"The letter doesn't seem to be there--which I much regret, but thesevisiting cards may be useful in our business; with your permission I'lltake them. Thank you, Mr. Harleston. "

He folded the book and returned it to Harleston's pocket. 

"I might have looked in your shoes, or done something disagreeable--Ibelieve I even promised to smash your face when I got theopportunity--but I'm better disposed now. I shall return good for evil;instead of tying you up as you did me, I'll release you from your bondsif you give me your word to remain quiet in this room until tomorrowmorning at eight, and not to disclose to anyone, before that hour, whathas occurred here. "

"After that?" said Harleston. 

"You shall be at liberty to depart and to tell. "

"And if I do not give my word?"

"Then, " said Crenshaw pleasantly, "we shall be obliged to bind you andgag you and leave you to be discovered by the maid--which, we shallcarefully provide, will not be before eight tomorrow morning. "

"You leave small choice, " Harleston observed. 

"Just the choice between comfort and discomfort!" Crenshaw laughed. "Which shall it be, sir?"

Harleston had been shifting slowly from one foot to the other, feelingbehind him for the man with the garrote. He had him located now and theprecise position where he was standing--one of his own legs was touchingSparrow's. 

At the instant Crenshaw had finished his question, Harleston suddenlykicked backwards, landing with all the force of his sharp heel full onSparrow's shin. 

Instantly the garrote loosened; and Harleston, with a wild yell, sprangforward and swung straight at the point of Crenshaw's jaw. 

Crenshaw dodged it--and the two men grappled and went down, fightingfuriously; Harleston letting out shouts all the while, and even managingto overturn a table, which fell with a terrific smash of broken glassand bric-à-brac, to attract attention and lead to an investigation. 

He had not much trouble in mastering Crenshaw; but Sparrow, when he wasdone spinning around on one foot from the agonizing pain of the kick onthe shin, would be another matter; the two men and the woman couldoverpower him, unless assistance came quickly. And to that end he raisedall the uproar possible for the few seconds that Sparrow spun and thewoman stared. 

Just as Sparrow hobbled to Crenshaw's aid, Harleston landed a short armblow on the latter's ear and sprang up, avoided the former's rush andmade for the hall-way. 

At the same moment came a loud pounding on the corridor door. The noisehad been effective. 

In a bound, Harleston reached the door; it should, as he knew, open fromwithin by a turn of the knob. But it was double-locked on the inside andthe key was missing. 

He whirled--just in time to see the last of the mixed trio disappearinto the drawing-room, and the door snap shut behind them. 

He sped across and flung himself against it--it was locked. 

Meanwhile the pounding on the corridor door went on. 

"Try another door!" Harleston shouted. 

But by reason of the heavy door and the din, some time elapsed before hecould attract the attention of those in the corridor and make himselfunderstood. Then more time was consumed in getting the floor-maid withthe pass-key to the room adjoining the drawing-room of the suite. 

By that time, the manager of the hotel had come up and put himself atthe head of the relief; and he was not in the best of temper when heentered and saw the debris of the bric-à-brac and the table. 

"What is the meaning of--" he demanded--then he recognized Harleston andstopped--"I beg your pardon, Mr. Harleston! I didn't know that you werehere, sir; this apartment was occupied by--"

"Two men and a woman, " Harleston supplied. "Well, it's been vacated bythem in deference to me. "

"I don't understand!" said the manager. 

"If you will have the baggage, which, I imagine, is in the bedrooms, examined, and give me your private ear for a moment, I'll endeavour toexplain as much as I know. "

"Certainly, Mr. Harleston, " the man replied; and, directing the othersto examine the baggage, he closed the door of the drawing-room. 

"First tell me who occupied this suite, when it was taken, and when theycame, " said Harleston. 

"One moment, " said the manager, and picking up the telephone he calledthe office. "It was, the office says, occupied by a Mr. And Mrs. Davidson of New York City, who took it this afternoon about fiveo'clock. They had made no reservation for it. "

"Now as to their baggage. "

The manager bowed and went out--to return almost instantly, a puzzledexpression on his face. 

"Two new and cheap suit cases, each containing a couple of bricks andsome waste paper, " he reported. 

"Yes, " nodded Harleston, "I thought as much. Mr. Banks, you will confera favour on me, and possibly on the government, if you will be goodenough to let this affair pass unnoticed, at least for the time. I'llpay for the broken table and its contents, and a proper charge for therooms for the few hours they've been occupied. I overturned the table. As for the rest--how I came to be here, and what became of theoccupants, and why the furniture was smashed, and why I have a slightcontusion in my cheek, and anything else occurring to the management asrequiring explanation, just forget it, please. "

"Certainly, sir. "

"Very good!" said Harleston. "Now wait one moment. "

He went to the telephone and asked for Mrs. Clephane's apartment. 

Her maid answered--with the information that Mrs. Clephane had been outsince five o'clock and had not yet returned. 

Harleston thanked her, hung up the receiver, and turned to Banks. 

"I have reason to believe that Mrs. Clephane, who is a guest of thehotel, has disappeared. I was talking to her in the red-room at about6:30, when I was called to the telephone. On my return, after a briefabsence, she was gone, and a frequent and thorough search on the firstfloor did not disclose her. She was to have dined with me atseven-thirty. She did not keep the engagement. I dined alone, and hadjust begun the meal when a letter was handed to me asking that I dinewith her in her apartment, No. 972. I came here at once--and was held upby two men and a woman, who sought to obtain something that theyimagined was in my possession. It wasn't, however, and we fought; and Iraised sufficient disturbance to bring you. You see, I have told yousomething of the affair. The note was a forgery. This isn't Mrs. Clephane's apartment, and her maid has just told me that her mistresshas not been in her apartment since five o'clock--which was the time shemet me. I am persuaded that she is a prisoner, and likely in thishotel--held so to prevent her disclosing a certain matter to a certainhigh official. What I want is for you to make every effort to determinewhether she is in this house. "

"We'll do it, Mr. Harleston, " the manager acquiesced instantly. "Comedown to the office and we'll go over the guest diagram, while I haveevery unoccupied room looked into. In fact, sir, we'll do anything shortof burglaring our guests. "

"I'll be right down, " Harleston said; "after I've bathed my face andstraightened up a bit. "

The contusion on his cheek was not particularly noticeable; it might beworse in the morning; his collar was a trifle crushed and his hair wasawry; on the whole, he had come out of the fight very well. 

He took up his stick and gloves, put on his hat so as to shade, as faras possible, the cheek-bone, and went down to the private office. 

There was, of course, the chance that Mrs. Clephane had lured him intothe trap, and had herself written the decoy note; but he did notbelieve her guilty. Even though Crenshaw had adroitly implicated her, he was not influenced. Indeed, he was convinced of just thereverse:--that she was honest and sincere and inexperienced, and thatshe had told him the true story of the letter and its loss. At least hewas acting on that theory, and was prepared to see it through. Maybe hewas a fool to believe those brown eyes and that soft voice and thosecharming ways; if so, he preferred to be a fool for a little while, to, if not, being a fool to her forever. He had, in his time, encounteredmany women with beautiful faces and compelling eyes and alluring voicesand charming ways, but with none had they been so blended as in Mrs. Clephane. 

He did not know a thing as to her history--he did not even know whethershe was married, a widow, or a divorcée. Whatever she was, he waswilling to accept her as genuine--until she was proven otherwise. 

All of which would indicate that she had made something of an impressionon Harleston--who was neither by nature nor by experience impressibleand, in the diplomatic game, had about as much sentiment as a granitecrag. In fact, with Harleston every woman who appeared in thediplomatic game lay under instant and heavy suspicion. 

Mrs. Clephane was the first exception. 

X

SKIRMISHING

On the slender chance of finding Mrs. Clephane, Harleston made anothertour of the rooms and corridor on the first floor. 

It was without avail--save that he noticed Madeline Spencer and herescort were still at dinner. They did not see him--and he was very wellcontent. Later he would want a word with them--particularly with her;and he preferred to meet her alone. She was a very beautiful woman, andvery alluring, and the time was, and not so long ago, when he would havegone far out of his way to meet her; but another face--andbusiness--occupied him at present. Moreover, the business had to do withMrs. Spencer, and that shortly. Therefore he was content to be patient. Mrs. Clephane first. 

So he went on to the private office and the manager. 

"I've just taken another look over this floor, " he said; "Mrs. Clephaneis not to be seen. "

"We paged her, also, " returned Banks; "and we've had every vacant roomin the house examined without result. Here's the diagram; let us go overit, perhaps we can get a lead from it. About half of the guests arepersonally known to the hotel; they are either permanent guests or havebeen coming here for a long time. However, pick out any that you suspectand we'll try to find a way to get into their rooms. We are always atthe service of the government, particularly the State Department. "

Harleston ran his eyes over the diagram, searching for Madeline Spencer. It was barely possible that she was registered under one of her ownnames. He found it at last--or thought he had: No. 717:--Madame Cuthbertand maid. 

"What do you know of her?" he asked, indicating No. 717. 

"Nothing whatever, except that she seems to have plenty of money, andlooks the lady. "

"When did she come?"

"Three days ago. "

"What is No. 717?"

"Two bedrooms, a parlour, and a bath. "

"I should like to know if she has had callers, and who they are; also, if the house detective knows anything of her movements?"

"One moment, sir, " said Banks--

"And you might inquire also, " Harleston added, "as to the bald-headedman who is her companion this evening?"

"Very good, sir, " said Banks, and went out. 

"I tell you there are quite too many women in this affair, " Harlestonmuttered--and went back to inspecting the chart. 

And the more he inspected, the more hopeless grew his task. If Mrs. Clephane had been lured to one of the rooms, it would be next toimpossible to find her. There were a hundred well-dressed andquiet-mannered guests who seemed beyond suspicion; and yet it was in theroom of one of these unobtrusive guests, who had never so much as lookedat Mrs. Spencer, that Mrs. Clephane was held prisoner. There was smallhope--none, indeed--that a search of Madeline Spencer's apartment wouldyield even a clue. She was not such a bungler; though that she was thedirecting spirit in the entire affair he had not the least doubt. Herphotograph fixed the matter on her; and while he was quite sure she wasnot aware of the photograph, yet she was aware of the letter, had made adesperate effort to prevent its delivery, and now was making a finaleffort to prevent Mrs. Clephane from advising the French Ambassador ofits loss. 

As to him, Mrs. Spencer was not concerned. His possession of the letter, under such circumstances, effectually closed his mouth; if he happenedto know for whom the letter was intended, his mouth was closed all thetighter. It was a rule of the diplomatic game never to reveal, even toan ally, what you know; tomorrow the ally may be the enemy. Harlestonmight yield the letter to superior force or to trickery, but he wouldnever babble of it. 

The door opened to admit Banks. 

"The detective has nothing whatever as to Madame Cuthbert, " heexplained. "He says she is apparently a lady, and nothing has occurredto bring her under his notice. For the same reason, no list of hercallers has been made--though the desk thinks that they have beencomparatively few. The man with whom she dined this evening is a Mr. Rufus Martin. He has been with her several times. He is a guest of thehotel--room No. 410. "

"Can you have her apartment and Martin's looked over without excitingsuspicion?"

"I think we can manage it, " Banks responded. "Indeed, I think we canmanage to have all the rooms inspected; I have already told thedetective what we suspect, and he has put on an employee's uniform andwith a basket of electric bulbs is now testing the lights in everyoccupied room. The moment he finds Mrs. Clephane, or anything thatpoints to her, he will advise us. "

"Good!" said Harleston. "Meanwhile, I'll have another look in PeacockAlley. "

He was aware that he was acting on a pure hunch. He realized that histheory of Mrs. Clephane's imprisonment in the house was mostinconsistent with the facts. Why did they release her last night, ifthey were fearful of her communicating to the French Ambassador the lossof the letter? And why should they take her again this evening? It wasall unreasonable; yet reason does not prevail against a hunch--even to areasoning man, who is also a diplomat. 

He sauntered along the gay corridor bowing to those he knew. As hefaced about to return, he saw Madeline Spencer, alone, bearing down uponhim. 

The moment their eyes met, she signalled a glad smile and advanced withhands extended. 

"Why, Guy!" she exclaimed. "What a surprise this is!"

"And what a charming pleasure to me, Madeline, " he added, taking bothher hands and holding them. "I thought you were in Paris; indeed, Ithought you would never leave the City of Boulevards. "

"So did I, yet here I am; yet not for long, I trust, Guy, not for long. "

"America's misfortune, " he whispered. 

"Or fortune!" she laughed. "It's merely a matter of viewpoint. To thosewho have knowledge of the comparatively recent past, Madeline Spencermay be a _persona non_. However--" with a shrug of her shapely shouldersand an indifferent lift of her fine hands. "Won't you sit down, Mr. Harleston; that is, if you're not afraid for your reputation. I assumethat here you have a reputation to protect. "

"I'm quite sure that my reputation, whatever it be, won't suffer bywhat you intimate!" he smiled, and handed her into a chair. 

"You were much surprised to see me, _n'est-ce pas_?" she asked low, leaning close. 

"Much more than much, " he replied confidentially. 

"Honest?" she asked, still low and close. 

"Much more than honest, " he answered. "It's been a long time since wemet. "

"Three months!"

"Three months is much more than long--sometimes. "

She gave him an amused smile. 

"I was thinking of you only last night, " he volunteered. 

"What suggested me?" she asked quickly. 

"I suppose it must have been your proximity, " he replied easily andinstantly. 

"Wireless, " she laughed, "or community of interests?"

"I don't know--the impression was vivid enough, while it lasted, for youto have been in the room. "

"Maybe I was--in spirit. "

"I'm sure of it, " he replied. "How long have you been in Washington, Madeline?"

"You should have felt my proximity as soon as I arrived, " she responded. 

"I felt it nearing when you left Paris--and growing closer as time wenton. You see, I have a remarkable intuition as--to you. "

"Charming!" she trilled. "Why not get a _penchant_ for me, as well?"

"Maybe I have--and don't venture to declare myself. "

"You!" she mocked

"Meaning that I can't get a _penchant_, or that I am not afraid todeclare?"

"Both!" she laughed. "Now quit talking nonsense and tell me aboutyourself. What have you been doing, and what are you doing?"

"At the very profitable and busy occupation of killing time, " hereplied. 

"Of course, but what else?"

"Nothing!"

"What, for instance, were you doing last night?"

"Last night? I dined at the Club, played auction and went home at aseemly hour. "

"Home? Where is that?"

"The Collingwood. "

"And what adventure befell you on the way--if any?"

"Adventure? I haven't had an adventure since I left the Continent. "

"Sure?"

"Perfectly. I wish I had--to vary the monotony. "

She traced a diagram on the rug with the tip of her slipper. 

"It depends on what you regard as an adventure, " she smiled. "I shouldthink the episode of the cab, with what followed at your apartment, wasvery much in that line?"

"Oh, to be sure!" exclaimed Harleston, with an air of complete surprise. "However did--Great Heavens, Madeline, were _you_ the woman of the rosesand the cab?"

"You know that I wasn't!" she replied. 

"Then how do you know of the cab of the sleeping horse, and whatfollowed?" he inquired blandly. 

"I dreamed it. "

"Wonderful! Simply wonderful!"

She nodded tolerantly. "Why keep up the fiction?" she asked. "You knowthat I am concerned in your adventure--just as I know of your adventure. I was on the street, or in the house, or was told of it, whichever youplease; it's all one, since you know. Moreover you have seen me with oneof your early morning callers, as I meant you to do. " She leaned forwardand looked at him with half-closed eyes. "Will you believe me, Guy, whenI say that the United States is not concerned in the matter--and that itshould keep its hands off. You stumbled by accident on the deserted cab. A subordinate blundered, or you would not have found it ready for yourinvestigation--and you've been unduly and unnecessarily inquisitive. Wehave tried to be forbearing and considerate in our efforts to regain it, but--"

"Regain, my dear Madeline, implies, or at least it conveys an idea of, previous possession. Did Germany--I beg your pardon; did your client inthis matter have such--"

"I used regain advisedly, " she broke in. 

"Because of your possession of the lady, or because of your independentpossession of the letter?"

"You're pleased to be technical, " she shrugged. 

"Not at all!" he replied. "I'm simply after the facts: whether theletter belongs to you, or to the mysterious lady of the cab?"

"Who isn't in the least mysterious to you. "

"No!"

"Really, you're delicious, Mr. Harleston; though I confess that _you_have _me_ mystified as to your game in pretending what you and I know ispretence. "

"You're pleased to be enigmatic!" Harleston laughed. 

"Oh, no I'm not, " she smiled, flashing her rings and watching theflashes--and him. "You saw me, and you know that I saw you; and I sawyou and know that you saw me. Now, as I've said it in words of onesyllable, I trust you will understand. "

"I understand, " said he; "but you have side-stepped the point:--To whomdoes this lost letter belong: to you or to--"

"Mrs. Clephane?" she adjected. 

"Exactly: to you, or to Mrs. Clephane?"

"What does that matter to you--since it does not belong to _you_?"

"I may be a friend of Mrs. Clephane? Or I may regard myself as atrustee for the safe delivery of the letter. "

"A volunteer?"

"If you so have it!" he smiled. 

She beat a tattoo with her slender, nervous fingers, looking at him inmild surprise, and some disapproval. 

"Since when does sentiment enter the game?" she asked. 

"Sentiment?" he inflected. "I wasn't aware of its entry. "

She shrugged mockingly. "Beware, old friend and enemy! You're losingyour cleverness. Mrs. Clephane is very charming and alluring, butremember, Guy, that a charming woman has no place in the diplomaticgame--save to delude the enemy. She seems to be winning with you--who, Ithought, was above all our wiles and blandishments. Oh, do not smile, sir--I recognize the symptoms; I've played the innocent and the beautyin distress once or twice myself. It's all in our game--but I'mshockingly amazed to see it catch so experienced a bird as GuyHarleston. "

"I'm greatly obliged, Madeline, for your shocking amazement, " Harlestonchuckled. "Meanwhile, and returning to the letter; who has the bettertitle to possession, Mrs. Clephane or yourself?"

"As I remarked before, either of us has a better title to the letterthan yourself. Also--I have heard you say it many times, and it is anaccepted rule in the diplomatic game--never meddle in what does notconcern you; never help to pull another's chestnuts out of the fire. "

"My dear lady, you are perfectly right! I subscribe unreservedly to therule, and try to follow it; but you have overlooked another rule--themost vital of the code. "

"What is it, pray!"

"The old rule:--Never believe your adversary. Never tell thetruth--except when the truth will deceive more effectively than a lie. "

"That is entirely regular, yet not applicable to the present matter. I'm_not_ your adversary. "

"You say you're not--yet how does that avoid the rule?"

"Won't you take my word, Guy?" she murmured. 

"I am at a loss whether to take it or not, " he reflected; "being so, I'm in a state of equipoise until I'm shown. "

"Tell me how I can show you?" she smiled. 

"I haven't the remotest idea. You know as well as I that if you were totell me truthfully why you are here, and what you aim to accomplish, Icouldn't accept your story; I should have to substantiate it by othermeans. "

"You mean that I can't show you?" she said sorrowfully. 

He nodded. "No more than I could show you were our positions reversed. "

What her purpose, in all this talk, he failed to see--unless she wereseeking to establish an _entente cordiale_, or to gain time. The latterwas the likelier--yet time for what? They both were aware that all thisdiscussion was twaddle--like much that is done in diplomacy; that theywere merely skirmishing to determine something as to each other'sposition. 

"I had hoped that for once you would forget business and trust me, " shesaid softly; "in memory of old times when we worked together, as well aswhen we were against each other. We played the game then for all thatwas in it, and neither of us asked nor gave quarter. But this isn'tbusiness Guy, --" she had gradually bent closer until her hair brushedhis cheek--"that is, it isn't business that concerns your government. You may believe this implicitly, old enemy, absolutely implicitly. "

"With whom, then, has it to do?" he inquired placidly. 

She sighed just a trifle--and moved closer. 

"You will never tell, nor use the information?" she breathed. 

"Not unless my government needs it?"

"_Peste!_" she exclaimed. "You and your government are--However, I'lltell you. " Her voice dropped to a mere whisper. "It has to do withEngland, Germany, and France: at least, I so assume. It has to do withGermany or I wouldn't be in it, as you know. "

"And what is the business?" he continued. 

"I'm not informed--further than that it's a secret agreement betweenEngland and Germany, which France suspects and would give much to blockor to be advised of. As to what the agreement embodies, I am in thedark--though I fancy it has to do with some phase of the Balkanquestion. "

"Why would England and Germany conclude an agreement as to the Balkanquestion--or any question, indeed--in Washington?" Harleston asked. 

"I do not know; I'm quite ready to admit its seeming improbability. Possibly Germany desired the experience of her new Ambassador, BaronKurtz, and didn't care to order him to Europe. Possibly, too, they choseWashington in order to avoid the spying eyes of the secret service ofthe other Powers. At all events, I've told you all that I know. "

"Why are _you_ here?" he went on. 

"I'm here to watch--and to do as I'm directed. I'm on staff duty, so tospeak. I'm not quite in your class, Guy. I've never operated quitealone. " She looked at him thoughtfully. "We two together would make agreat pair--oh, a very great pair!"

"I'm sure of it, " he replied. "Sometime, I hope, we can try it. "

"Why not try it now?" she said gently. 

"I'm in the American secret service--and, you said, America is notinvolved. "

"Join with Germany--and me--for this once. "

He shook his head. "I serve my country for my pleasure. Germany isanother matter. If, sometime, in an affair entirely personal to you, Madeline, I should be able to assist you, I shall be only too glad forthe chance. "

"You don't trust me, " she replied sadly. 

"Trust is a word unknown in the diplomatic vocabulary!" he smiled. "Moreover, I couldn't do what you want even if I believed and trustedyour every word. You want the letter--the Clephane letter. I haven'tit--as you know. It's in the possession of the State Department. "

"Then let it remain there!" she exclaimed. 

"It probably will until it's translated, " he replied. 

"It's in cipher?"

Harleston nodded. "Do you know what it contains?" he asked. 

"Unfortunately, I don't. "

"You would like to know?"

"Above everything!"

"And until then you would not have the French Ambassador advised of theletter, nor of the adventure of the cab?"

"Precisely, old friend, precisely. "

"How will you prevent Mrs. Clephane telling it?"

"We must try to provide for that!" she smiled. 

"Why didn't you keep her prisoner, when you had her last night?"

"That was a serious blunder; it won't happen again. "

"H-u-m, " reflected Harleston; and his glance sought Mrs. Spencer's andheld it. "Where is Mrs. Clephane now?" he demanded. 

For just an instant her eyes narrowed and grew very dark. Then suddenlyshe laughed--lightly, with just a suggestion of mockery in the tones. 

"Mrs. Clephane--is yonder!" said she. 

Harleston turned quickly. Mrs. Clephane was coming down the corridor. 

XI

HALF A LIE

"Somewhat unexpected, isn't it?" Harleston asked. 

"To whom--you, her, or myself?" Mrs. Spencer inquired. 

"To you. "

"Not at _all_. I'm never surprised at anything!" Then just a trace ofderision came into her face. "Won't you present me, Mr. Harleston?"

"Certainly, I will, " he responded gravely, and arose. 

"Another unexpected!" she mocked. "But she _is_ good to look at, Guy, Imust grant you that. Also--" and she laughed lightly. 

"One moment, " said he tranquilly, and turned toward Mrs. Clephane--whohad caught sight of him and was undecided what to do. 

Now, smiling adorably, she came to meet him. 

"The two beauties of the season!" he thought; and as he bowed over herhand he whispered: "Not a word of explanation _now_; and play ignoranceof _everything_. --Understand?"

"I don't understand--but I'll do as you direct, " she murmured. 

"I want to present you to Mrs. Spencer--the woman whom, you will recall, I asked you in the red-room if you recognized. Be careful, she is of theenemy--and particularly dangerous. "

"Everyone seems to be dangerous except myself, " she replied. "I'm animbecile, or a child in arms. "

"_I'm_ not dangerous to you, " he answered. 

"That, sir, remains to be proven. "

"And I like your idea of the child in arms--provided it's my arms, " hewhispered. 

Her reply was a reproving glance from her brown eyes and a shake of thehead. 

"I'm delighted to meet you, Mrs. Clephane, " Mrs. Spencer greeted, beforeHarleston could say a word. She made place on the divan and drew Mrs. Clephane down beside her. "You're Robert Clephane's widow, are you not?"

"Robert Clephane was, I believe, a distant cousin, " Mrs. Clephaneresponded. "De Forrest Clephane was my husband. Did you know him, Mrs. Spencer?"

"I did not. _Robert_--" with the faintest stress on the name--"was theonly Clephane I knew. A nice chap, Mrs. Clephane; though, since you'renot his widow, I must admit that he was a bit gay--a very considerablebit indeed. "

"We heard tales of it, " Mrs. Clephane replied imperturbably. "It is anungracious thing, Mrs. Spencer, to scandalize the dead, but do you knowanything of his gayness from your own experience?"

Harleston suppressed a chuckle. Mrs. Clephane would take care ofherself, he imagined. 

Mrs. Spencer's foot paused in its swinging, and for an instant her eyesnarrowed; then she smiled engagingly, the smile growing quickly into alaugh. 

"Not of my own experience, Mrs. Clephane, " she replied confidentially, "but I have it from those who do know, that he set a merry pace andtravelled the limit with his fair companions. It was sad, too--he was amost charming fellow. Rumour also had it that he was none too happy inhis marriage, and that _his_ Mrs. Clephane was something of the samesort. I've seen _her_ several times; she was of the type to make men'shearts flutter. "

"It's no particular trick to make men's hearts flutter, " said Mrs. Clephane sweetly. 

"How about it, Mr. Harleston?" Mrs. Spencer asked. 

"No trick whatever, " he agreed, "provided she choose the proper methodfor the particular man; and some men are easier than others. "

"For instance?" Mrs. Spencer inflected. 

"No instance. I give it to you as a general proposition and withoutcharge; which is something unusual in these days of tips and gratuitiesand subsidized graft and things equally predatory. "

Mrs. Spencer arose. "The mere mention of graft puts me to instantflight, " she remarked. 

"And naturally even the suggestion of a crime is equally repugnant toyou, " Mrs. Clephane observed. 

"'As a general proposition, '" Mrs. Spencer quoted. 

"And general propositions are best proved by exceptions, _n'est-cepas_?" was the quick yet drawling answer. 

The two women's eyes met. 

"I trust, Mrs. Clephane, we shall meet again and soon, " Mrs. Spencerreplied, extending her hand. 

"Thank you so much, " was Mrs. Clephane's answer. 

Mrs. Spencer turned to Harleston with a perfectly entrancing smile. 

"Good-night, Guy, " she murmured. --"No, sir, not a foot; I'm going up tomy apartment. "

"Then we will convoy you to the elevator. Come, Mr. Harleston. "

"It is only a step, " Mrs. Spencer protested. 

"Nevertheless, " said Mrs. Clephane, "we shall not permit you to bravealone this Peacock Alley and its heedless crowd. "

And putting her arm intimately through Mrs. Spencer's she went on: withHarleston trailing in the rear and chuckling with suppressed glee. Itwas not often that Madeline Spencer met her match!

When the car shot upward with Mrs. Spencer, Harleston gave a quiet laughof satisfaction. 

"Now shall we go in to dinner?" he asked. 

Mrs. Clephane nodded. 

"The table in the corner yonder, Philippe, " Harleston said. 

"Who is Mrs. Spencer?" she inquired, as soon as they were seated. 

"You've never heard of her?"

"No--nor seen her before tonight. One is not likely to forget her; she'sas lovely as--"

"Original sin?" Harleston supplied. 

Mrs. Clephane smiled. 

"Not at all, " said she. "Diana is the one I was about to suggest. "

"She may look the Diana, " he replied, "but she's very far from a Diana, believe me, very far indeed. "

"I am quite ready to believe it, Mr. Harleston. " She lowered her voice. "I have much to tell you--and, " with a quick look at him, "alsosomething to explain. "

"Your explanation is not in the least necessary if it has to do withanything Mrs. Spencer said. "

"Under the circumstances I think I should be frank with you. Mrs. Spencer said just enough to make you suspect me; then she droppedit--and half a lie is always more insidious than the full truth. "

"My dear Mrs. Clephane, " he protested, "I assure you it is notnecessary--"

"Not necessary, if one is in the diplomatic profession, " she cut in. "Murder and assassination both of men and of reputation, seem to be aportion of this horrible business, and perfectly well recognized as alegitimate means to effect the end desired. I'm not in it--diplomacy, Imean, --and I'm mighty thankful I'm not. Mrs. Spencer cold as ice, craftyas the devil, beautiful as sin, and hard as adamant, knowing her Parisand London and its scandals--I suppose she must know them in herprofession--instantly recognized me and placed me as Robert Clephane'swife. For I am his wife--or rather his widow. I lied to her because Ididn't intend that she should have the gratification of seeing her playwin. She sought to distress and disconcert me, and to raise in your minda doubt of my motives and my story. It may be legitimate in diplomacy, but it's dastardly and inhuman. 'Rumour also had it that he was none toohappy in his marriage, and that his Mrs. Clephane was something of thesame sort--she was of the type to make men's hearts flutter. ' You see, Irecall her exact words. And what was I to do--"

"Just what you did do. You handled the matter beautifully. "

"Thank you!" she smiled. "Yet she would win in the end--with almost anyother man than you. She plays for time; a very little time, possibly. Idon't know. I'm new in this business--and can't see far before me. Indeed, I can't see at all; it's a maze of horrors. If I get out of thismess alive, I'll promise never to get mixed in another. "

"Why not quit right now, Mrs. Clephane?" Harleston suggested. 

"I won't quit under fire--and with my mission unaccomplished. Moreover, this Spencer gang have ruffled my temper--they have aroused my fightingblood. I never realized I had fighting blood in me until tonight. Mrs. Spencer's ugly insinuation, topping their attempted abduction of theevening, has done it. I'm angry all through. Don't I look angry, Mr. Harleston?"

"You're quite justified in looking so, dear lady; as well as in beingso, " Harleston replied. "Only you don't look it now. "

"You're a sad flatterer, sir!" she smiled. "Believe me, had you seen mein the room to which they decoyed me with a false message from you, youwould believe that I can look it--very well look it. "

"So that was the way of it!" Harleston exclaimed "Tell me about it, Mrs. Clephane. I was sure that you were a prisoner somewhere in this hotel;to find you every room was being inspected. "

"Why did you think I was a prisoner in the midst of all this gaiety?"she asked. 

"Because I was lured by a message purporting to be from you to the ninthfloor and garroted. I escaped. However, that is another story; yoursfirst, my lady. "

"You too!" she marvelled. 

He nodded. "And now we are sitting together at dinner, looking at thecrowd, and you're about to tell me your story. "

"Thanks to you for having escaped and rescued me!" Mrs. Clephaneexclaimed. 

"The management devised the way. "

"But _you_ prompted it--you are the one I have to thank. "

"If you insist, far be it from me to decline! It's well worth anything Ican do to--have you look at me as you're looking now. "

"I hope I'm looking half that I feel, " she replied instantly. 

"A modest man would be more than repaid by half the look, " he returned. 

"Are you a modest man?" she smiled. 

"I trust so. At least, I am with some people. "

"You're giving every instance of it with me, though it may be a part ofthe game; even the rescue may be a part of the game. You may be playingme against Mrs. Spencer, and taking advantage of my inexperience toaccomplish your purposes--"

"You don't think so!" he said, with a shake of his head. 

"No, I don't. And maybe that only proves my inexperience and unfitness. "

For a moment he did not reply. Was _she_ playing _him_? Was it a ruse ofa clever woman; or was it the evidence of sincerity and innocence? Ithad the ring of candour and the appearance of truth. No one could lookinto those alluring eyes and that fascinatingly beautiful face andharbour a doubt of her absolute guilelessness. Yet was it guilelessness?He had never met guilelessness in the diplomatic game, save as a maskfor treachery and deceit. And yet this seemed the real thing. He wantedto believe it. In fact, he did believe it; it was simply the habit ofhis experience warning him to beware--and because it was a woman itwarned him all the more.... Yet he cast experience aside--and also thefact that she was a woman--and accepted her story as truth. Maybe hewould regret it; maybe she was playing him; maybe she was laughingbehind her mask; maybe he was all kinds of a fool--nevertheless, hewould trust her. It was--

"I'm glad you have decided that I'm not a diplomat--and that you willtrust me, " she broke in. "I'm just an ordinary woman, Mr. Harleston, justa very ordinary woman. "

He held out his hand. She took it instantly. 

"A very extraordinary woman, you mean, dear lady, " he said gravely. "Insome ways the most extraordinary that I have ever known. "

"It's not in the line of diplomacy, I hope, " she shrugged. 

"Not the feminine line, I assure you; Madeline Spencer is typical of it, and the top of her class--which means she is wonderfully clever, inscrutable as fate, and without scruple or conscience. No, thank God, you do not belong in the class of feminine diplomats!"

"Thank you, Mr. Harleston!" she said gently, permitting him, for aninstant, to look deep into her brown eyes. "Now, since you trust me, Iwant to refer briefly to Mrs. Spencer's insinuation. "

"Robert Clephane was all that she said--and more. Middle-aged when hemarried me, before a year was passed I had found that I was only anotherexperience for him; and that after a short time he had resumed his waysof--gaiety. Not caring to be pitied, nor to be so soon a deserted wife, nor yet to admit my loss of attraction for him, I dashed into the gaylife of Paris with reckless fervour. I know I was indiscreet. I know Ifractured conventionality and was dreadfully compromised--but I neverviolated the Seventh Commandment. Robert Clephane and I were notseparated--except by a locked door. 

"Then one day some two years back, dreadfully mangled, they brought himhome. An aeroplane had fallen with him--with the usual result. Thatmoment saw the end of my gay life. I passed it up as completely asthough it had never been. The reason for it was gone. After a veryshort period of mourning, I took up the quietness of a respectablewidow, who wished only to forget that she ever was married. "

"I can understand exactly, " said Harleston. "You shall never hear a wordfrom me to remind you. "

"I've never heard anything to remind me of the past until this alluringbeauty's insinuations of a moment ago. That is why it hit me so hard, Mr. Harleston. And why did she do it? Is she jealous of you, or of me, or what?"

"She's not jealous of me!" he laughed. "I know her history; it'ssomething of a history, too.... Sometime I'll tell you all about it;it's an interesting tale. Is it possible you've never heard in Paris ofMadeline Spencer?"

"Never!"

"Nor of the Duchess of Lotzen?"

"Great Heavens!" she cried. "Is she the Duchess of Lotzen?"

"The same, " Harleston nodded. 

"H-u-m! I can understand now a little of her--No wonder I felt myhelplessness before her polished poise!"

"Nonsense!" he smiled. 

"Why should such an accomplished--diplomat want to injure me with you?"she asked. 

"She was not seeking to injure you in the sense that you imply, " hereturned. "Her purpose was to put you in the same class as herself, sothat I should trust you no more than I do her; to make you appear anemissary of France, in its secret service, playing the game of ignoranceand inexperience for its present purpose. For you, as a personality shedoes not care a fig. To her you are but one of the pieces, to be movedor threatened as her purpose dictates. In the diplomatic game, my lady, we know only one side--all other sides are the enemy; and nothing, noteven a woman's reputation, is permitted to stand for an instant in theway of attaining our end. "

"Therefore a good woman--or one who would forget the past--has noearthly business to become involved in the game, " Mrs. Clephanereturned. "I shall get out of it the instant this matter of the letteris completed--and stay out thereafter. Even friendship won't lure me toit. Never again, Mr. Harleston, never again for mine!"

"I wish you would let it end right now, " he urged. 

"That wouldn't be the part of a good sport, nor would it be just toMadame Durrand. She trusts me. "

"Then inform the French Ambassador of all the facts and circumstancesand retire from the game, " he advised. 

"Shall I inform him over the telephone?" she asked. 

"You would never get the Ambassador on the telephone, unless you wereknown to some one of the staff who could vouch for you. "

"I don't know anyone on the staff, but Mrs. Durrand has likelycommunicated with the Embassy. "

"If she has, she had given them a minute description of you, yet thatcan not be used to identify you over the telephone. "

"I hesitate to go to the Embassy without the letter, " she said. 

"Why do you hesitate?" he smiled. 

"Because I--don't want to admit defeat. "

"Which of itself will serve to substantiate your story. One skilled inthe game would have lost no time in informing the Embassy of the lossof the letter. He would have realized that, next to the letter itself, the news of its seizure was the best thing he could deliver--also, itwas his _duty_ to advise the Embassy at the quickest possible moment. You see, dear lady, personal pride and pique play no part in this game. They are not even considered; it's the execution of the mission that'sthe one important thing; all else is made to bend to that single end. "

"Then I should go to the French Embassy tonight with my story?" sheasked. 

"You should have gone this morning--the instant you were returned to thehotel! Now, unless Madame Durrand had written about you, it's a prettygood gamble that the Spencer crowd has forestalled you. "

"Forestalled me! What do you mean?"

"Mrs. Spencer admitted to me that your release was someone's blunder. The normal thing was to hold you prisoner and so prevent you fromcommunicating with the Ambassador until they had obtained the letter ordefeated its purpose. That was not done; but Spencer, you may assume, has attempted to rectify their blunder--possibly by impersonating you, and giving the Marquis d'Hausonville some tale that will fall in withher plans and gain time for her. "

"Impersonating me!" Mrs. Clephane exclaimed incredulously. 

"Yes. She knows all the material circumstance--witness the telephonecall that inveigled you into the drive up the Avenue, _et cetera_--andshe'll take the chance that you are not known to the Marquis nor any ofthe staff, or even the chance that Madame Durrand has not yet informedthem. Indeed she may have taken precautions against her informing them. A few bribes to the hospital attendants, carefully distributed, would besufficient. It's not everyone who could, or would venture to, pull offthe coup, but with Spencer the very daring of a thing adds to itspleasure and its zest. "

"You amaze me!" Mrs. Clephane replied. "I thought also that diplomacywas the gentlest-mannered profession in the world--and the mostdignified. "

"It is--on the surface. Fine residences, splendid establishments, brilliant uniforms, much bowing and many genuflections, plenty of paradeand glitter--everything for show. Under the surface: a supreme contemptfor any code of honour, and a ruthlessness of purpose simplyappalling--yet, withal, dignity, strained at times, but dignitynone-the-less. "

"Then it isn't even a respectable calling!" she exclaimed. 

"It's eminently respectable to intimidate and to lie for one'scountry--and to stoop to any means to attain an end. "

"And you enjoy it!" she marvelled. 

"I do. It's fascinating--and I leave the disagreeable portion to others, when it has to do with those not of the profession. "

"And when it has to do with those of the profession?"

"Then it's all in the game, and everything goes to win--because we allknow what to expect and what to guard against. No one believes or truststhe enemy; and, as I said, everyone is the enemy but those who arearrayed with us. "

"So instead of being the finest profession in the world--and the mostaristocratic, " Mrs. Clephane reflected, "a diplomat is, in truth, simplya false-pretence artist of an especially refined and dangerous type, who deals with the affairs of nations instead of the affairs of anindividual. "

"Pretty much, " he admitted. "Diplomacy is all bluff, bluster, buncombe, and bullying; the degrees of refinement of the aforesaid bluff, _etcetera_, depending on the occasions, and the particular parties involvedin the particular business. "

"Again I'm well content to be simply an ordinary woman, whose chiefdelight and occupation is clothes and the wearing of clothes. "

"You're a success at your occupation, " Harleston replied. 

"Some there are who would not agree with you, " she replied. "However, weare straying from the question before us, which is: what shall I doabout informing the Marquis d'Hausonville? Will you go with me?"

"My going with you would only complicate matters for you. The Marquiswould instantly want to know what such a move on my part meant. I'mknown to be in the secret service of the United States, you mustremember. Furthermore your tale will accuse me of the taking of theletter--and you see the merry mess which follows. I cannot return theletter--it's in possession of the State Department. I'm fartransgressing my duty by disclosing anything as to the letter. Indeed, I'm liable to be disciplined most drastically, even imprisoned, shouldit chance that the United States was involved. "

"You've told me nothing more than you've already told the Spencercrowd, " she objected. 

"The difference is that the Spencer crowd are trying to obtain somethingto which they haven't the least right--and I'm playing the game againstthem. You see my peculiar position, Mrs. Clephane. I've told you what Ishouldn't, because--well, because I'm sure that you will not use it tomy disadvantage. "

She traced the figures on her gown with the tips of her fingers, and forawhile was silent--

"It's all so involved, " she reflected; "such wheels within wheels, I amcompletely mystified. I'm lost in the maze. I don't know whom to believenor whom to trust--except, " and suddenly she smiled at him confidently, "that I trust you. "

He held her eyes with his own as he leaned forward across the table andanswered very quietly:

"I shall try, dear lady, to be worthy. "

"And now, " she laughed, "may I tell you what happened to me when youwere called to the telephone?"

"You may talk to me forever, " he replied. 

"And what as to the French Ambassador?" she asked. 

"Bother the Marquis--he may wait until morning. "

"Tomorrow, then, is beyond the forever?"

"Tomorrow may take care of itself!"

"Don't be sacrilegious, sir. "

"I'll be anything you wish, " he replied. 

"Then be a good listener while I tell my tale. It was this wise, Mr. Harleston. Immediately after you were called away, indeed you werescarcely out of the room, a page brought a verbal message from thetelephone operator that my maid had been found unconscious in thecorridor of the eighth floor, and carried into 821. I hurried to theelevator. As I entered the door of 821, I was seized from behind and ahandkerchief bound over my mouth and eyes. I then was tied in a chair, and a man's voice said that no further harm would come to me if Iremained quiet until morning. I did not see the faces of my assailants;there were two at least, possibly three, and one I think was a woman. My feelings and thoughts until the electrician released me may beimagined. It seemed days and days--and was somewhat uncomfortable whileit lasted. When released I hurried down to look for you--or to write youa note of explanation if I couldn't find you. I'm sort of becomingaccustomed to being abducted and kindred innocent amusements. I supposethe only reason they didn't kill me is that they can't kill me more thanonce; and to kill me now would be too early in the game. "

"Killing is rarely done in diplomacy, " observed Harleston, "except inlarge numbers; when it ceases to be diplomacy and becomes war. In fact, only bunglers resort to killing; and if the killing be known it endsone's career in the service. To have to kill to gain an end isconclusive evidence of incompetency. I mean, of course, among reputablenations. There are some thugs among the lesser Powers, just as there arethugs among the _'oi polloi_. "

"Then Mrs. Spencer is an accomplished--diplomat, " Mrs. Clephaneremarked. 

"She is at the top of the profession, --and as a directing force she iswithout a superior. "

"You are very generous, Mr. Harleston!"

"I believe in giving the devil his dues. Indeed, in handling someaffairs, she is in a class by herself. Her beauty and finesse andalluringness make her simply irresistible. It's a cold and stony heartthat she can't get inside of and use. "

"A man's heart, you mean?"

"Certainly. A man is in control of such affairs. "

"Then Mrs. Spencer's presence here indicates that this letter matter isof the first importance to Germany. "

"It indicates that her business is of the first importance to Germany;the letter may simply be incidental to that business, in that itsdelivery to the French Ambassador will embarrass or complicate thatbusiness. The latter is likely the fact. "

"It grows more involved every minute, " Mrs. Clephane sighed. "It'suseless to try to make me comprehend. I want to hear what happened toyou; such simple concrete doings are more adapted to my unsophisticatedmind. "

"When I returned to the telephone, you were gone, " he said; "I waitedawhile, then cruised through the rooms, then went back to our place andwaited again. Finally I went in to dinner, leaving word to be notifiedthe moment you returned. I was at my soup when a note was brought to mesaying that you had just seen someone whom you wished to avoid, andasking me to dine with you in your apartment--and that you would explainyour disappearance. I went up at once to No. 972; and there encounteredpretty much similar treatment to yours, "--and he detailed the episode, down to the time she reappeared in the corridor. 

She had heard him through without an interruption; at the end she saidsimply:

"I've absolutely no business in this affair, Mr. Harleston. When suchthings can happen in this hotel, in the very centre of the NationalCapital and among the throngs of diners and guests, it behooves anordinary woman to seek safety in a hospital or a prison. It seems thatthe greater the prominence of the place, the greater the danger and theless liability to arrest. "

"In diplomacy!" he acquiesced. 

"Then again, I say, Heaven save me from meddling in diplomacy!"

"Amen, my lady! Moreover, " he added, as they arose and passed into thecorridor, "I want you as you are. "

Once again their eyes met--she coloured and looked away. 

"Play the game, Mr. Harleston, " she reminded, "play the game! And thankyou for a delicious dinner and a charming evening--and don't forgetyou've an appointment at ten. "

"I had forgotten!" he laughed, drawing out his watch. 

It was ten minutes of the hour. 

"Take me to the F Street elevator and then hurry on, " said she. 

"And you will do nothing--and go nowhere until tomorrow?" he asked. 

"I'll promise to remain here until--"

"I come for you in the morning?" he broke in. 

"If I'm not abducted in the interval, I'll wait, " and stepped into thecar. "Good-night, Mr. Harleston!" she smiled--and the car shot upward. 

"Hum!" muttered Harleston as he turned for his coat and hat. "I may bea fool, but I'll risk it--and I think I'm _not_. "

It was but a step to Headquarters and he walked. 

"The Superintendent, " he said to the sergeant on duty in the outeroffice. 

"The Chief has gone home, Mr. Harleston, " was the answer. 

"Home?"

"Yes, sir, two hours ago; he'll not be back tonight. "

"Get him on the telephone, " Harleston directed. 

"Yes, sir, Mr. Harleston.... Here he is, sir--you can use the 'phone inthe private office. "

"Hello! Is that you, Ranleigh? Yes, I recognized the voice. Did youtelephone me at the Chateau about six-thirty?... You didn't?... You wereon your way home at that hour.... Yes, exactly; it was a plant.... Doyou know Crenshaw escaped from my apartment.... Yes, I saw him in theChateau this evening.... What?... Yes, better look up Whiteside atonce.... Yes, in the Collingwood.... Very good; I'll meet you there.... All right, I'll tell the sergeant. "

XII

CARPENTER

Harleston took a taxi to the Collingwood, arriving just as Ranleigh cameup, and the two men went in together. 

Whiteside was there; gagged and bound to the same chair that had heldCrenshaw. 

The rooms were in confusion. Everything had been gone through; clotheswere scattered over the floor, papers were strewn about, drawers stoodopen. 

They released Whiteside, and presently he was able to talk. 

"When did it happen?" Ranleigh asked. 

"About five o'clock this afternoon, sir, " Whiteside replied, in a mostapologetic tone. He knew there was no sympathy and no excuse for thedetective who let his prisoner escape. "The bell rang. I went to thedoor--and was shot senseless by a chemical revolver. When I came to, Ihad exchanged places with the prisoner, and he and another man werejust departing. 'My compliments to Mr. Harleston when he returns, ' saidCrenshaw, as he went out. "

"Describe the other man!" said Ranleigh. 

"Medium sized, slender, dark hair and eyes, good features, looked like agentleman, wore a blue sack-suit, black silk tie, and stiff straw hat. "

"It's Sparrow, " Harleston remarked. "Did they take anything with them?"

"Nothing whatever that I saw, sir. "

"You're excused until morning, " said the Chief curtly. 

The detective saluted and went out. 

"I am exceedingly sorry I overlooked Whiteside when I escaped fromCrenshaw's garrote in the Chateau, " Harleston remarked. "The simple factis, I clean forgot him until I was talking with you on the telephone. "

"It's just as well, Mr. Harleston, " Ranleigh replied. "It served himright. He will be fortunate if his want of precaution doesn't cost himhis job. "

"No, no!" Harleston objected. "Whiteside has been punished. I intercedefor him. Let him continue in his job, please. "

"Very good, sir, " Ranleigh acquiesced. "But he'll be informed that heowes his retention entirely to you. "

When Ranleigh departed, after hearing a detailed account of theevening's doings at the hotel, Harleston sat for a little whilethinking; finally he drew over a pad and made a list of things thatrequired explanation, or seemed to require explanation, at the presentstage of the matter:

"(1) The translation of the cipher letter. This should explain MadelineSpencer's connection with the affair. 

"(2) Did the following persons, incidents, or circumstances have anybearing on the affair. 

"(a) The lone and handsome woman, who left the Collingwood at three thatmorning. 

"(b) The note 'à l'aube du jour' (signed) 'M, ' found in Crenshaw'spocket. 

"(c) The telephone call of the Chartrand apartment at 12:52 A. M. , by aman who said that he was 'here' and to meet him at 10 A. M. 

"(d) The persons in the Chartrand apartment the previous night. 

"(e) After 1 P. M. No one entered the Collingwood by the usual way, andno one telephoned; how, therefore, did anyone in the Collingwood know ofthe incident of the cab, and of my connection with it. 

"(f) Who is Mrs. Winton of the Burlingame apartments?

"(g) Why was she in Peacock Alley, wearing black and red roses, at fiveo'clock this afternoon?"

Harleston read over the list, folded it, and put it in his pocket-book;then he went to bed. There was plenty for him to seek, in regard to theaffair of the cab of the sleeping horse, but nothing more for theSpencer gang to inspect in his apartment. Crenshaw had made a thoroughjob of his investigation. 

In the morning he took out the list and went over it again. They allwere dependent on the translation of the letter; if it did not show thatthe United States was concerned in the matter, the rest became merely ofacademic interest--and Harleston had little inclination and no time forthings academic. The difficulty was, that until the key to the cipherwas found nothing was academic which appeared to have any bearing on theaffair. 

So he sent for the manager of the Collingwood, and asked as to theChartrands. The manager's information, which was definite if notextensive, was to the effect that the Chartrands were people of meansfrom Denver, with excellent social position there, and with connectionsin Washington. They had been tenants of the Collingwood less than aweek, having sublet the Dryand apartment. It was a large apartment. Mr. Chartrand was possibly forty-five, his wife thirty-eight or forty andexceedingly good-looking. There was, of course, no record kept of theirvisitors, nor did the house know who they were entertaining the previousevening. He was entirely sure, however, that the Chartrands were abovesuspicion. Mrs. Chartrand was a blonde, petite and slender; Chartrandwas tall and rather stout, with red hair, and a scar across hisforehead. As for the tall, slender woman who left the Collingwood atthree in the morning, he did not recognize her from the description; hewould, however, investigate at once. 

That it might be Madeline Spencer, now that her presence in Washingtonwas declared, Harleston thought possible. "Slender, twenty-eight, walksas though the ground were hers, " the telephone operator had said. Hewould get the photograph from Carpenter and let Miss Williams see it. Ifshe recognized it as Spencer, much would be explained. 

He stopped a moment at the Club, then went on to the State Department. As he turned the corner near the Secretary's private elevator, theSecretary himself was on the point of embarking and he waited. 

"You want to see me?" he asked. 

"Just a moment, Mr. Secretary, since you're here, " Harleston responded. "I came particularly to see Carpenter. There has been a plenty doing inthat matter, but nothing worthy of report to you--except one thing. Madeline Spencer is in town. "

"The devil she is!" exclaimed the Secretary. 

"And as beautiful, as fascinating, as sinuous, and as young as ever. "

"She must be a vision. "

"She is--and an extraordinarily dangerous vision. "

"Only to you impressible chaps!" the Secretary confided. "She is notdangerous to me, be she ever so beautiful, and fascinating, andsinuous, and young. When will you present me?"

"When do you suggest?" Harleston asked. 

"Tomorrow, at four?"

"If I can get the lady, certainly. "

"Later she'll get me, you think!" the Secretary laughed. 

"If she is so minded she'll get you, I have not the least doubt, "Harleston shrugged. 

"Then here is where you have your doubt resolved into moonshine. "

"Very well; it won't be the first time I've had the pleasure of seeingmoonshine. I'll try to make the appointment for tomorrow at four. "

"Self-opinionated old mountebank, " Harleston thought, as he went downthe corridor to Carpenter's office. "I shall enjoy watching Spencer makeall kinds of an ass of him. 'You impressible chaps!--not dangerous tome!' Oh, Lord, the patronizing bumptiousness of the man!... Have youanything for me, Carpenter?" he asked, as he entered the latter'soffice. 

The Fifth Assistant was sitting with his feet on his desk, a cigar inhis mouth, his gaze fixed on vacancy. 

"Damn your old cipher, Harleston!" he remarked, coming out of hisabstraction. "It's bothered me more than anything I've tackled foryears. I can't make head nor tail of it. Its very simplicity--or seemingsimplicity--is what's tantalizing. It's in French. Of so much I feelsure, though I've little more than intuition to back it. As you know, this Vigenèrie, or Blocked-Out Square, cipher is particularly difficult. I've tried every word and phrase that's ever been used or discovered. Wehave a complete record of them. None fit this case. Can you give meanything additional that will be suggestive?"

"Here's what I've brought, " Harleston replied--and related, so far asthey seemed pertinent, the incidents of the previous afternoon andevening. 

"A French message in an English envelope, inclosing an unmountedphotograph of Madeline Spencer, a well-known German Secret Agent inParis, " Carpenter remarked slowly; "and the letter is borne by MadameDurrand to the French Ambassador. You see, my intuition was right? theletter is in French; and as it is of French authorship the key-word isFrench. That narrows very materially our search. Find the key-word tothe Vigenèrie cipher of the French Diplomatic Service and we shall havethe translation. "

"You haven't that word?" Harleston asked. 

"We've got quantities of keys to French ciphers, and numerous ones tothe Blocked-Out Square, but they won't translate this letter. " He tookup a small book and opened it at a mark. "Here are samples of thelatter: _ecclesiastiques, coeur de roche, a deau eaux, fourreau, chateaud'eau_, and so on. But, alas, none of them fits; the French Governmenthas a new key. Indeed, she changes it every month or oftener; sometimesshe changes it just for a single letter. "

"Then we must apply ourselves to obtaining the French key-word, "Harleston remarked. "Can you--do it?"

"Maybe we can pilfer it and maybe we can't. At least we can make a briskattempt. I will give orders at once. In the meantime, if you'll keep meadvised of what happens, we may be able to piece your and my informationtogether and make a word. "

"I'll do it!" Harleston replied and started toward the door. Half-wayacross the room he suddenly whirled around. "Lord, Carpenter. What animbecile I am!" he exclaimed. "I fancy I've had the key-word all thewhile and never realized it. "

"There are too many petticoats in this case, " Carpenter shrugged. 

"Never mind the petticoats!" Harleston laughed. "Get out the letter andtry this phrase on it: _à l'aube du jour_. "

Without a word of comment, Carpenter set down the cipher message, letterby letter, and wrote over it _à l'aube du jour_. Then he took up aprinted Blocked-Out Square and with incredible swiftness began to writethe translation. 

"Where did you get this 'at the break of day, ' Harleston?" he asked ashe wrote. 

"Found it in Crenshaw's pocket-book when he returned to hold me up, "Harleston replied. 

"Only this isolated phrase?"

"Yes--and signed with the single initial 'M. '"

"Hump!" Carpenter commented. "Mrs. Spencer's name, I believe you said, is Madeline. I tell you there are too many women in this affair. "

Suddenly he threw down the pen. "What's the use in going on with it. Ifyou can supply a key to this key we may arrive. Such an array ofunpronounceables may be Russian, it assuredly isn't French or English. Look at it!" and he handed the translation to Harleston, who read:

 AGELUMTONZUCLPMUHRHUNBARGPUH PJICLWYIAOIWFPHLUOZFRXUFJWH WASNVDPS

"Good Lord!" said Harleston. "I pass. Did you ever see so manyconsonants. I reckon my key-word isn't the key. "

"Try being held up again, " Carpenter advised; "you may succeed thesecond time. If Madeline Spencer is the holdee, no telling what you'dfind. "

"I'd find nothing, " Harleston rejoined. 

"You'd be holding a particularly lovely and attractive bit of skirts!"Carpenter smiled. 

"I don't want to hold that at present. "

"Not even--Mrs. Clephane?"

Harleston raised his eyebrows slightly. 

"What do you know about Mrs. Clephane?" he asked. 

"That she's even lovelier and more attractive than Mrs. Spencer. "

"You've seen her--you know her?"

"You told me, " replied Carpenter. 

"I told you!--I never referred to Mrs. Clephane's appearance. "

"Exactly: your careful reticence told me more than if you had used tonsof words. I'm a reader of secret ciphers; you don't imagine a mereindividual presents much of a problem. I tell you there are too manypetticoats mixed up in this affair of the cab of the sleeping horse, "Carpenter repeated. "Be careful, Harleston. Women are a menace--theyspoil about everything they touch. "

"Marriage in particular?" Harleston inquired. 

"Exactly!"

"A bachelor's wisdom!" Harleston laughed. 

"Why are you a bachelor?" Carpenter shrugged. 

"Because I never--"

"--found the woman; or have been adroit enough to avoid her wiles, "Carpenter cut in. "And whichever it is, you've shown your wisdom. Don'tspoil it now, Harleston, don't spoil it now. Millionaires andday-labourers are the only classes that have any business to marry; therest of us chaps either can't afford the luxury, or are not quite poorenough to be forced to marry in order to get a servant. "

"You would be popular with the suffragettes, " Harleston remarked. 

"Worldly wisdom of any sort is never popular with those against whom itwarns. "

"An aphorism!" Harleston laughed. 

"Aphorism be damned; it's just plain horse sense. Don't do it, old man, don't do it!"

"Don't do what?"

"Don't fall in love with Mrs. Clephane. "

"Good Lord!" Harleston exclaimed. 

"Good Lord all you want, you're on the verge and preparing to leapin--and you know it. Let some other man be the life-saver, Harleston. You're much too fine a chap to waste yourself in foolishness. "

"And all this, " Harleston expostulated with mock solemnity, "because Ineglected to include a description of Mrs. Clephane. "

"Neglected with deliberation. And with you that is more significant thanif you had detailed most minutely her manifold attractions. Look here, Harleston, do you want this translation for yourself or for Mrs. Clephane?"

"I want the translation because the Secretary of State wants it, "Harleston replied quietly. 

"Oh, don't become chilly, " Carpenter returned good-naturedly. "If youpermit, I'll tell you something about a Mrs. Clephane--queer nameClephane, and rather unusual--whom I used to see in Paris, " glancinglanguidly at Harleston, "several years ago. Want to hear it?"

"Sure!" said Harleston. "Drive on and keep driving. You won't drive overme. "

"It isn't a great deal, " Carpenter went on, slowly tearing the consonantcollection into bits, "and perchance it wasn't your Mrs. Clephane; buther name, and her beauty and charm, and Paris, and some other inferencesI drew, led me to suspect that--" He completed the sentence by a wave ofhis hand. "She was Robert Clephane's wife--yes, I see in your face thatshe is your Mrs. Clephane--and he led her a merry life, though if rumourlied not she kept up with the pace he set. I saw her frequently and shewas as--well you have not overdrawn the 'reticence picture. ' Shall Icontinue?"

Harleston smiled and nodded. 

"Doubtless you already know the tale, " Carpenter remarked. 

"I know only what Mrs. Clephane has told me, " Harleston replied. 

The Fifth Assistant Secretary picked up a ruler and sighted carefullyalong the edge. 

"I seem to be in wrong, old man, " he said. "Please forget that I eversaid it or anything--you understand. "

"My dear fellow, don't be an ass!" Harleston laughed. "I'm not sensitiveabout the lady; I never saw her until last night. "

"Quite long enough for a man disposed to make a fool of himself--if thelady is a beauty. "

"I'm disposed to hear more from you, if you care to tell me, " Harlestonreplied. "However, jesting aside, Carpenter, what do you know? Mrs. Clephane is something of a puzzle to me, but I have concluded to accepther story; yet I'm always open to conviction, and if I'm wrong now's thetime to enlighten me--the State comes first, you know. "

"Are you viewing Mrs. Clephane simply as a circumstance in the affair ofthe cipher letter?" Carpenter asked. 

"Certainly!" said Harleston. 

"Then I'll give you what I heard. It's not much, and it may be false;it's for you to judge, in the light of all that you know concerning her, whether or not it affects her credibility. Mrs. Clephane went with anotoriously fast set in Paris, and her reputation was somewhat cloudy. "

"I know of that, " returned Harleston, "also that Clephane was a roué, and generally an exceedingly rotten lot. "

"Precisely--and her conduct as to him may be quite justifiable; yetnevertheless it weakens her credibility; puts her story as to the letterunder suspicion. And there is one thing more: Clephane, you know, waskilled in an aeroplane smash. Did Mrs. Clephane tell you anything as toit?"

"Merely referred to it. "

"Well, at a dinner the night before, he effervesced that his wife hadrepeatedly tried to poison him, and had told him only that evening thatshe hoped the flight of the morrow would be his last, and that he wouldfall so far it would be useless to dig for his remains. At the aviationfield the following day he appeared queer, and his friends urged him notto try the flight; but he waved them aside, with the remark that maybeMrs. Clephane had drugged him and at last would win out. His fall camea trifle later. Suspicion followed, of course. "

"How do you know all this?" Harleston asked. 

"From a man who was one of his intimates, and has reformed; and fromhaving myself been in the aviation field the day of the tragedy. "

"You heard Clephane's remark?"

"I did. "

"Hum!" said Harleston slowly. "A man of Clephane's habits will accuseanyone of anything at certain times. As a matter of fact, I wouldn'tblame Mrs. Clephane, nor any other woman, for chucking such a husbandout of the boat. It's contrary to the Acts of Assembly in such casesmade and provided, but it's natural justice and amply justifiable. "

"You don't credit it?" Carpenter asked. 

"I can't. Moreover, didn't she change instantly her course of life anddisappear from the gay world?"

"I believe that is so. "

"And hasn't she remained disappeared?"

Carpenter nodded. 

"Then I'm inclined to give her the benefit of the doubt. I'll trusther, until I've seen something to warrant distrust--bearing in mind, however, what you have just told me, and the possibility of my beingmistaken. I reckon I can veer quickly enough if--"

The telephone rang. Carpenter picked up the receiver. 

"Yes, Mr. Harleston is here, " he replied, passing the receiver across. 

"Yes, " said Harleston. "Oh, how do you do, Mrs. Clephane.... Very nice, indeed.... Be delighted!... In ten minutes, I'll be there. Good-bye. " Hepushed back the instrument. "Mrs. Clephane has telephoned that she mustsee me at once. Meanwhile--the key-word, my friend. "

Carpenter drummed on the table, and frowned at the door that had closedbehind Harleston. 

"The man's bewitched, " he muttered. "However I threw a slight scare intohim, and maybe it will make him pause; he is not quite devoid of sense. Bah! All women are vampires. "

XIII

THE MARQUIS

"Mrs. Clephane will be right down, Mr. Harleston, " said the telephoneoperator. 

A moment later the elevator flashed into sight, and Mrs. Clephanestepped out and came forward with the languorously lithe step, perfectlyin keeping with her slender figure. She wore a dark blue street suit, and under her small hat her glorious hair flamed like an incandescentaureole. She greeted Harleston with an intimate little nod and smile. 

"You're good to come!" she said. 

"To myself, I think I'm more than good, " he answered. 

"No, no, sir!" she smiled. "No more compliments between us, if we're tobe friends. "

"We're to be _friends_, " he returned. 

"_Ergo_, " she replied. "Sit down just a minute, will you?"

"I'll sit down for a month, if you're--"

"_Ergo! Ergo!_" she reminded him. 

"I had not gotten used to the unusual restriction" he exclaimed. "You'rethe first woman ever I met or heard of who dislikes compliments. "

"I don't dislike compliments, Mr. Harleston; but compliments, it seems, are given in diplomacy for a purpose; and as I don't understand anythingof diplomacy we would better cut them out--until we have finished withdiplomacy. Then you may offer as many as you like, and I'll believe themor not as I'm minded. "

"Have it as you wish!" he smiled, looking into the brown eyes with frankadmiration. 

"Compliments may be conveyed by looks as well as by words, " shereproved. 

"But of the feeling that prompts the look you can be in no doubt. Moreover, a look is silent. "

"Nonsense, " said she. "Besides, I want to ask you a favour. You see, I'mprepared to go out--and I want you to go with me. Will you do it?"

"It will have to be mightily against my conscience to make me refuse_you_, " Harleston replied. 

"I'm glad you recognize a conscience, " she remarked. 

"I refer to my diplomatic conscience. "

"And a diplomatic conscience is a minus quantity, " she observed. 

"What is it you would of me, dear lady?" he asked. 

"I would that you should go with me to the French Ambassador, and helpme to explain the--now don't say you won't, Mr. Harleston--"

"My dear Mrs. Clephane, it is--" he began. 

"It is _not_ impossible!" she declared. "Why won't you do it?"

"For your sake as well as for my own, " he explained. "America and Franceare not working together in this matter, and for me to accompany youwould result simply in your being obliged to explain _me_ as well as theletter, besides leading to endless complications and countlesssuspicions. Didn't I expound this last evening?"

"You did--also much more; but I've thought over it almost the wholenight, and I simply must get this miserable letter off my mind. PerhapsMrs. Spencer has forestalled me with the Ambassador and has given himsuch a tale as will insure my being shown the door; nevertheless I'llrisk it. "

"Why don't you get in communication with your friend Madame Durrand, "Harleston suggested "and have her, if she hasn't done so already, identify you to the Marquis?"

"I shall, if the Marquis is sceptical. I'll admit that I'm pitiablyfoolish, but I don't want Mrs. Durrand to know how I've bungled hermatter until the bungle is corrected. "

"I can quite understand, " said Harleston gently. 

"Oh, I know you are right, " she murmured, "yet I'm afraid to go alone. "

"Take some other friend with you; some well-known man who can vouch foryour identity. "

"I know no one in Washington except the friends at the Shoreham, andthey are not residents here. "

"Are you acquainted with any prominent woman?"

"No! I've lived in Europe for years--and while I have met over therewomen from Washington it's been only casually. They won't recollect me, any more than I would them, for purposes of vouchment oridentification. "

"Then go alone. "

"I will. It is the right thing to do. Yesterday I was thinking that youhad the letter and could return it to me. I waited. Today I canappreciate your reason for withholding it--likewise the necessity for meto go to the Ambassador with my story. And I shall tell him the _whole_story; he may believe it or not as he is inclined. I'm only a volunteerin this affair, and I've decided that for me the course of discretionand frank honesty is much wiser than silently fighting back. Furthermore, it does not estop me from fighting the Spencer gang. "

"You have made a wise decision, " Harleston commented. "Tell theAmbassador, and be quit of the affair--and don't fight the Spencer gang, Mrs. Clephane; it is not worth while. "

She arose, and he went with her down the corridor and up the steps tothe entrance. 

"Every action is suspected and distrusted in diplomacy, " he said, "therefore I may not accompany you. Someone would be sure to see us andreport to the Embassy that I had brought you--the natural effect ofwhich would be to make the Marquis disbelieve your tale. For you see, until we have translated the letter, we cannot assume that America isnot concerned. "

"And you will not think ill of me for disclosing your part in theaffair?" she asked. 

"Quite the contrary, " he smiled. "Moreover, it is the course for you topursue; to hold back a single thing as to me will result only indistrust. Indeed, implicating me will help substantiate your story. "

"You're very good and very thoughtful, " she murmured--and once moresuffered him to look deep into her eyes. 

"I am very willing for you to think me both, " he replied. "Now I'm goingto call a taxi at the Fourteenth Street exit, and follow yours upSixteenth Street until I see you at the French Embassy. Tell yourchauffeur to drive down to Twelfth Street, up to H and then out toSixteenth. My taxi will be loitering on Sixteenth and will pick up yoursas it passes and follow it to the Embassy. Once there you're out ofdanger of the Spencer gang. And let me impress you with this fact: tellthe story to someone of the staff. If you fail to get to the Ambassador, get a Secretary or an Attaché. "

"I'll try to find someone who will listen!" she laughed. 

"And I rather fancy you will be successful, " he smiled. "It would be amost unusual sort of man who won't both listen and look. "

"Careful, Mr. Harleston!" she reminded. 

He put her in the taxi; bowed and turned back into the hotel--wonderingwhy he had ever fancied Madeline Spencer. 

Mrs. Clephane gave her orders to the chauffeur, ending with theinjunction to drive slowly. 

As they swung into Sixteenth Street, a taxi standing before St. John'sEpiscopal Church followed them; and Mrs. Clephane recognized Harlestonas its occupant. 

At the French Embassy she descended and rang the bell, and was instantlyadmitted by a liveried footman. 

"I wish to see his Excellency the Ambassador!" she said, speaking inFrench. 

The flunky took her card and bowed her into a small reception room. 

After a moment or so a dapper young man entered, her card in hisfingers. 

"Messes Cleephane?" he inquired. 

"I am Mrs. Clephane, " she replied in French. "I wish to see hisExcellency the Ambassador on a most important matter. "

"You have an appointment with his Excellency?" he asked, this time inFrench. 

"You are--" she inflected. 

"His secretary, madame, " the young man bowed. 

"No, I have not an appointment, " she replied, "but I come from MadameDurrand who was the bearer of a cipher letter from the Foreign Minister. Madame Durrand was injured as she was about to take train in New York, and gave me the letter to deliver. "

The secretary looked at her blandly and smiled faintly. 

"You have the letter with you?" he asked. 

"Again, no, " she replied. "It is to explain its loss, and to warn theAmbassador that I am here. "

"His Excellency is exceedingly busy--will you not relate thecircumstances to me?"

"My instructions from Madame Durrand are most specific that I am to dealonly with his Excellency, " Mrs. Clephane explained--with such a dazzlingsmile that the secretary's eyes fairly popped. "Won't you please tellhim I'm here, and that I have a luncheon engagement at one o'clock. "

The secretary hesitated. Again the smile smote him full in the face--andhe hesitated no longer. 

"Come with me, Madame Clephane, " he replied "His Excellency is occupiedat present, but I'll deliver your message. "

Once more the smile--as opening the door for her he bowed her into aninner office, and carefully placed a chair for her. 

"A moment, madame, " he whispered, disappearing through an adjoiningdoorway. 

Whereat Mrs. Clephane sighed with amused complacency, and waited. 

Presently the door opened and the secretary appeared. "His Excellencywill receive you, Madame Clephane, " he said. 

"I thank you--oh, so much!" she whispered as she passed him--and thelook that went with the words cleared all her scores--and almostfinished him. 

So much for a smile--when a beautiful woman smiles, and smiles in justthe right way, and especially when the man smiled on is a Frenchman. 

The Ambassador was standing by a large, flat-topped desk in the centreof the room, his back was to the light, which was generously given inall its effulgence to his visitors. He was a small man and slight ofbuild, intensely nervous, with well-cut features, gray hair--what therewas of it--and a tiny black moustache curled up at the ends but notwaxed. 

He came briskly forward and extended his hand. 

"My dear Madame Clephane, " he said in French, leading her to a chair, "how can I serve you?"

"By listening to my story, your Excellency, and believing it, " Mrs. Clephane answered, --"and at the end not being too severe on me for mymisfortune and ignorance. "

"That will not be difficult, " he bowed, with a frank look of admiration. "You come from Madame Durrand, I believe?"

"Yes--you know Madame Durrand?"

The Marquis nodded. "I have met her several times. "

"I'm glad!" said she. "It may help me to prove my case. "

"Madame is her own proof, " was the answer. 

For which answer he drew such a smile from Edith Clephane that incomparison the secretary's smile was simply as nothing. 

"Your Excellency overwhelms me, " she replied. "I'm positively tremblingwith apprehension lest I fail to--" she dropped into English--"makegood. "

He laughed lightly. "You will make good!" he replied, also in English, "Pray proceed. "

And Mrs. Clephane told him the whole story, from the time she met MadameDurrand on the steamer to the present moment--omitting only theimmaterial personal portions occurring between Harleston and herself, and the fact that his taxi had escorted hers until she was at theEmbassy. 

Her narrative was punctuated throughout by the Marquis's constantexclamations of wonder or interest; but further than exclaiming, in thenervous French way, he made no interruption. 

And on the whole, she told her story well; at first she was a littlenervous, which made her somewhat at a loss for words; yet that soonpassed, and her tale flowed along with delightful ease. 

"Now you have been a wonderfully gracious listener, your Excellency, "she ended, "ask whatever questions you wish in regard to the matter; Ishall be only too glad to answer if I am able. "

"Madame's narrative has been most detailed and most satisfactory, " theMarquis answered. "But let me ask you to explain, if you can, why MadameDurrand has not made a written report of this matter to the Embassy?"

"I have no idea--unless she is ill. "

"Broken bones do not usually prevent one from writing, or dictating, aletter. "

"It _is_ peculiar!" Mrs. Clephane admitted. 

"What is the name of the hospital?" the Marquis asked. 

"In the hurry and excitement I quite forgot to ask the name, " shereplied. "The station officials selected it. I was thinking ofher--Madame Durrand, I mean--more than the name of the hospital. I don'teven know the street; though it's somewhere in the locality of thestation. It is dreadfully stupid of me, your Excellency, not toknow--but I don't. "

"We can remedy that very readily, " he said, and pressed a button. Hissecretary responded. "Telephone our Consul-General in New York toascertain immediately from the railroad officials the hospital to whichMadame Durrand, who broke her ankle and wrist in the PennsylvaniaStation, at ten o'clock on Monday, was taken. "

The secretary saluted and withdrew. 

"Might not our friends the enemy have bribed someone to suppress MadameDurrand's letter or wire?" Mrs. Clephane asked. 

"Very possibly. It is entirely likely that they wouldn't be apt to stopwith the accident. "

"You think they were responsible for Madame Durrand's fall?" sheexclaimed. 

"Have you forgotten the man who jostled Madame Durrand?" the Marquisreminded. 

"To be sure! How stupid not to think of it. You see, your Excellency, Iam not accustomed to the ways of diplomacy and to assuming every one's arogue until he proves otherwise. "

"You have a poor opinion of diplomats!" he smiled. 

"Not of diplomats, only of their professional ways. And as they all havethe same ways, it's fair, I suppose, among one another. "

"Did you tell Monsieur Harleston your opinion of our vocation?" heasked. 

"I did--somewhat more emphatically. "

"And what, if you care to tell, did he say?"

"He quite agreed with me; he even went further. "

"Wise man, Harleston!" the Marquis chuckled. 

"Implying that he was not sincere?"

The Marquis threw up his hands. "Perish the thought! I imply that he isa man of rare discrimination and admirable taste. "

"Now won't you please tell me, your Excellency, if you credit, no, ifyou _believe_, my story--and don't be a diplomat for the telling. "

"My dear Madame Clephane, I do believe your tale--it bears the impressof truth in what you've not done, as well as in what you've done. Hadyou ever been in the service you would recognize my meaning. That theabductors did not triumph was due first to their carelessness, andsecond to chance, in the person of Monsieur Harleston. He plays thegame; and is violating no rule of diplomacy by his course in the affair. Indeed he would be recreant to his country's service were he to dootherwise. And France would infinitely prefer the United States to havethe letter rather than Germany. It's unfortunate, but it's not asunfortunate as it might be. "

"You make me feel much, oh, so much better!" Mrs. Clephane replied. "Ifeared lest my blunder could never be forgiven nor forgotten; and thatMadame Durrand would be held responsible and would never again betrusted. "

The Ambassador smiled and shook his head. "I think you need not worry, "he replied. 

"And I'm perfectly sure, your Excellency, that if the United States isneither directly or indirectly concerned in the matter of the letter, and if you were to submit a translation of the letter to prove it, Mr. Harleston will deliver to you the original. "

"Did Monsieur Harleston tell you so?" the Marquis smiled. 

"No, oh, no! I only thought that--"

"--in this one instance diplomats would trust each other?" heinterjected. "Alas, no! Monsieur Harleston would only assume thetranslation to be false and given for the sole purpose of deception. Ishould assume exactly the same, were our positions reversed. "

"Couldn't you prove your translation by giving him the key to thecipher?" she asked. 

"My dear madame, " the Marquis smiled, "such a thing would beunprecedented--and would mean my instant dismissal from the service, and trial for treason. "

She made a gesture of defeat. "Well, you can at least have the letterrepeated by cable. "

"Also we can cable the government to dispatch another letter, " theAmbassador soothed. "There are plenty of ways out of the difficulty, sodon't give yourself any concern--and the United States is welcome to theletter. It will be a far day, I assure you, ere its cipher bureautranslates it. "

He glanced at the clock. Mrs. Clephane arose. 

"I'm sorry for the mess I have made, " she said. 

"Don't give it a thought, " he assured her. "If you can help us, you willbe where?"

"I will be at the Chateau until this matter is straightened out--andsubject to your instant call. "

"Good--you are more than kind; France appreciates it. "

He took her hand, escorted her with gracious courtesy to the door, andbowed her out. 

Then he stepped to his desk and rang twice. 

The First Secretary entered. 

"Did you hear her entire story?" the Marquis asked. 

"I did, sir, " the First Secretary replied. 

"You believe it?"

"Absolutely. "

"Then set Pasquier to work to ascertain what this Madame Spencer isabout. Let him report as quickly as he has anything definite. I'll cableParis at once as to the letter. "

XIV

THE SLIP OF PAPER

Madeline Spencer, leaning languidly against the mahogany table in thecorner of the drawing-room, drummed softly with her finger tips as shelistened. 

"What is the use of it all?" Marston was asking. "We can't get theletter. Harleston evidently told the truth; he has turned it over to theState Department, so why not be content that it's there, and let wellenough alone?"

"I've been letting well enough alone by occupying them with the notionthat the letter is the thing most desired, " Mrs. Spencer returned. "Muddying the water, as it were, so as to obscure the main issue and getaway with the trick. Direct your attention here, if you please, gentlemen! Meanwhile we escape from the other end. "

"Mrs. Clephane was at the French Embassy this afternoon, " he observed. 

"At last she had a glimmering of sense!" Mrs. Spencer laughed. "Why shedidn't beat it there direct from the train I can't imagine. Suchignorance is a large asset for those of us who know. I had thought ofimpersonating her and amusing myself with d'Hausonville, but I concludedit wasn't worth while. It _riles_ me, however, that the affair was soatrociously bungled by Crenshaw and the others. What possessed them torelease Mrs. Clephane once they had her?--and what in Heaven's name madethem overlook the letter in the cab?"

"Search me!" Marston replied. 

"There is no occasion to search you, Marston, " she smiled, "I shouldn'tfind very much except--placidity. "

"Placidity has its advantages, " he smiled back. 

"It has; that's why I asked the Chief for you. You were not as happy inyour choice of assistants, Marston. They are a stupid lot. You may sendthem back to New York. We'll handle this matter ourselves, with Mrs. Chartrand's involuntary assistance. "

"Very good, madame!" said Marston. "The trouble, you see, came with thatchap Harleston's butting into the affair. Who would have foreseen thathe would happen along just at that particular moment and scoop theletter without turning a hair. It was rotten luck sure. "

"It was all easy enough if the blundering fools had only exercised anatom of sense, " Mrs. Spencer retorted. "Mrs. Clephane couldn't deceive anormal two-year-old child; she is as transparent as plate glass. "

"She was clever enough to get rid of the letter in the cab, and to givethem the plausible story that it was locked in the hotel safe. And thehotel safe was the reasonable place for her to leave the letter untilshe had seen the Ambassador, and someone from the Embassy could returnwith her and get the letter. "

"Granted--if Mrs. Clephane were a wise woman and in the service. Sheisn't wise and she isn't in the service; and both these facts are soapparent that he who runs may read. She played the Buissards for foolsand won. If they had exercised the intelligence of an infant, they'dhave known that she had the letter with her when she left the hotel. Yougot a glimmer of light when you thought of the cab--and Mrs. Clephanetold you that Mr. Harleston had stopped and looked at the sleepinghorse and then started him toward Dupont Circle. You came to me toreport--and I, knowing Harleston, solved the remainder of the mystery. But with Harleston's entry the affair assumed quite a different aspect;and it is no reflection on you, Marston, that your expedition to hisapartment didn't succeed; though somewhat later Crenshaw did act as asemi-reasonable man, and secured the letter--only to foozle again likean imbecile. The play in the hotel last night, as schemed by us, shouldhave gone through and eliminated Clephane and Harleston for a time; butHarleston upset things by his quick action and sense ofdanger--moreover, he guessed as to Clephane, for the management got wiseand made a search, and the dear lady found Harleston and me in PeacockAlley--and she pre-empted him. "

Marston blinked and said nothing. 

"Why don't you say something?" she asked sharply. 

"What is there to say that you don't already know, " he replied placidly. 

"Very little, Marston, about the subject in hand, " she replied curtly. "And now let us see how matters stand to date. First--the FrenchAmbassador knows that a cipher letter to him from his Foreign Ministerhas been intercepted and is in the hands of the American StateDepartment. Second--as it is in letter cipher, there isn't muchlikelihood of it being translated. Third--the matter covered by theletter must be something that they are reluctant to send by cable; foryou know, Marston, that the United States, in common with Europeannations, requires all telegraph and cable companies to forwardimmediately to the State Department a copy of every cipher messageaddressed to a foreign official. Maybe they are not able to translateit, but of that the sending nation cannot be sure and it makes it verycareful, particularly when the local government is affected. Fourth--France will have to choose between consuming a week in gettinganother letter from Paris to Washington, or she will have to chance thecable with the risk of America learning her message. "

"What do you think France will do?" Marston asked. 

"If the letter concerned my mission, she will risk the cable, " Mrs. Spencer replied. "She would far rather disclose the affair to the UnitedStates, than to let Germany succeed. "

"May she not be content now to warn the United States?" suggestedMarston. 

"It's quite possible. All depends whether the letter concerns mymission. We have been informed by the Wilhelm-strasse that it probablydoes, and directed to prevent its delivery to the French Ambassador. We've succeeded in preventing, but bungled it over to the UnitedStates--the one country that we shouldn't have aroused. What in thedevil's name ails your assistants, Marston--particularly Crenshaw?"

"To be quite candid, " Marston replied, "he had a grouch; he thought thatSparrow and I flub-dubbed the matter of the cab, and deliberately triedto lose him when we went to the Collingwood. And when he did come, hedrew his gun on us until he understood. "

"What?" she exclaimed. 

"He thought that it was a scheme of Sparrow to injure him in your eyes. It seems that he and Sparrow are jealous of your beautiful eyes. "

"What are you talking about?" she demanded. "What have I, or mybeautiful eyes, to do with Crenshaw and Sparrow?"

"What usually happens to the men who are associated with you in anyenterprise: they get daffy over you. "

"Because they get daffy over me is no excuse for stupid execution of thebusiness in hand, " she shrugged. "_You_ never have been guilty ofstupidity, Marston. "

"Because I've managed never to be a fool about you--however much I havebeen tempted to become one. "

"Have been, Marston?" she inflected. 

"Have been--and _am_, " he bowed. "I'm not different from therest--only--"

She curled herself on a divan, and languidly stretched her slenderrounded arms behind the raven hair. 

"Only what, Marston?" she murmured. 

"Only I know when the game is beyond me. "

"So, to you, I'm a game?"

"Of an impossible sort, " he replied. "I admire at a distance--and keepmy head. "

"And your heart, too, _mon ami_?"

"My heart is the servant of my head. When it ceases so to be, I shallask to be detached from the Paris station. "

"Are you satisfied with your present assignment?"

"Much more than satisfied; very much more than satisfied. "

She held out her hand to him, and smiled ravishingly. 

"We understand each other now, Marston, " she said simply; which tiedMarston only the tighter to her--as she well knew. And Marston knew it, too. Also he knew that he had not the shade of a chance with her--andthat she knew that he knew it. It was Madeline Spencer's experience withmen that such as she tried for she usually got. There were exceptions, but them she could count on the fingers of one hand. Harleston--thoughfor a time he was on the verge of submission--was an exception. And forthat she was ready to rend him at the fitting opportunity; the more sobecause her own feelings had been aroused. As they were once before withArmand Dalberg--who had calmly put her in her place, and tumbled herschemes about her ears. 

All her life there would be a weak spot in her heart for Dalberg; and, such is the peculiarly inconsistent nature of the female, a hatred thatfed itself on his scorn of her. 

She had dared much with Dalberg--and often; and always she had lost. TheDuke of Lotzen was only a means to an end: money and exquisite ease. Left with ample wealth on his decease, she, for her excitement and to bein affairs, had mixed in diplomacy, and had quickly become an expert intortuous moves of the tortuous game. 

Then one day she encountered Harleston, and bested him. With a rare goodnature for a diplomat, he had taken his defeat with a smile, at the sametime observing her manifold attractions with a careful eye and anindulgent mind for the past. Which caused her to look at him again, andto think of him frequently; and at last to want him for her own--after alittle while. And he had appeared not averse to the wanting--after alittle while. Now, just as he was about to succumb, he was suddenlywhisked away by another woman--that woman simply a later edition ofherself: the same figure, the same poise, the same methods, the sameallurements; but younger in years, fresher, and, she admitted it toherself, less acquainted with the ways of men. And now she had losthim; and never would she be able to get him back. Another woman hadfilched him from her--filched him forever from her, she knew. 

Therefore she hated Mrs. Clephane with a glowing hate. 

"Have you seen the--_man_?" Marston asked, when her attention came backto him. 

She nodded. "I've had a communication from him. "

"Anything doing?"

"Not yet. He will duly apprise me. Meanwhile we, or rather I, am toremain quiet and wait expectantly. "

"He thinks you are alone?"

"Of course. He would be off like a colt if he thought that I had a corpsof assistants. "

"The longer the delay the more chance France has to repeat the letter bycable, " Marston remarked. 

"Certainly--but I shan't be fool enough to tell him so, or anything asto the letter. He would end negotiations instantly. "

"When are you to see him?"

"This afternoon at three. "

"At Chartrands?"

"No, in Union Station. "

"It's a long way to go, " Marston observed. 

"So I intimated, but without avail. "

"Is he afraid?"

"No, only inexperienced in deception and over cautious. Moreover, it isa serious business. "

"Particularly since Harleston is on the trail?" Marston added. 

Mrs. Spencer nodded again. "We'll pray that he does not uncover thematter until we are up and away. "

"If we pray, it should be effective!" Marston laughed. 

"It likely will be--one way or the other, " she returned drily. "However, if we are careful, a prayer more or less won't effect much damage. It'sreally up to the--man in the case. If he can get away with it, we canmanage the rest. "

"And if he can't?"

"Then there will be nothing on us, unless the Clephane letter istranslated and implicates me by name--or Paris resorts to cable. If itwere not for France's meddling, it would be ridiculously simple so faras we are concerned; everything would be up to the man. "

"And you do not know who the man is, nor what he is about to betray?"Marston asked. 

"I do not--nor am I in the least inquisitive, despite the fact that I'ma woman. I haven't even so much as tried to guess. I was ordered hereunder express instructions; which are to meet someone who willcommunicate with me by letter in which a certain phrase will occur. Thereafter I am to be guided by him and the circumstances until Ireceive from him a certain package, when I am instantly to depart thecountry and hurry straight to Berlin. Whether I am to receive a copy ofa secret treaty between our friends or our enemies, a diplomatic secretof high importance, a report on the fortifications or forces of anothernation, or what it is, I haven't the slightest idea. It's all in thegame--and the game fascinates me; its dangers and its uncertainty. Someother nation wants what Germany is about to get; some other nation seeksto prevent its betrayal; some other nation seeks to block us; someoneelse would even murder us to gain a point--and our own employer wouldnot raise a hand to seek retribution, or even to acknowledge that wehad died in her cause. They laud the soldier who dies for his flag, buthe who dies in the secret service of a government is never heard of. Hedisappears; for the peace or the reputation of nations his name is notupon the public rolls of the good and faithful servants. It's risky, Marston; it's thankless; it's without glory and without fame;nevertheless it's a fascinating game; the stakes are incalculable, theremuneration is the best. "

"You're quite right as to those high up in the service, " Marstonremarked, "the remuneration, I mean, but not as to us poor devils whoare only the pawns. We not only have no glory nor honour, butconsidering the danger and what we do we are mightily ill paid, my lady, mightily ill paid. The fascination and danger of the game, as you say, is what holds us. At any rate, it's what holds me--and the pleasure ofworking sometimes with you, and what that means. "

"And we always win when together because we are in accord, " she smiled, holding out her hand to him. "Team work, my good friend, team work!"

He took the hand, and bending over raised it to his lips with an air offine courtesy and absolute devotion. 

"And we shall win this time, Marston, " she went on, "we shall sail forEurope before the week is ended--I'm sure of it. "

"I shall be satisfied if we never sail--or sail always, " he returned, and slowly released her fingers and stepped back. 

She paid him with a ravishing smile; and Madeline Spencer, when shewished, could smile a man into fire--and out again. It was too soon forthe "out again" with Marston. He was very useful--he was not restless, nor demanding, nor sensitive, nor impatient of others, nor jealous. Hewas like a faithful dog, who adores and adores, and pleads only to beallowed to adore. Moreover, he was a capable man and trustworthy;dependable and far above his class. Therefore she took care that hischains should be silken, yet at the same time that he be not permittedto graze too far afield. 

"I wonder, " Marston was saying, after a little thought, "if Carpenter, the Chief of the Secret Bureau of their State Department, might bepurchasable--if we made him a good stiff bid?"

"I don't know, " she answered. "It isn't likely, however; he is too oldand tried an official to be venal. Furthermore we haven't any money athand, and my instructions are to act independently of the GermanEmbassy, and under no circumstances whatever to communicate with it. Insuch business as we are engaged, the Embassy never knows us nor of ourplans. They don't dare to know; and they will calmly deny us if weappeal to them. "

"The money might be arranged, " Marston suggested. "You could cable toBerlin for it--and have it cabled back. "

"It might be done, " said she thoughtfully. "You mean to try Carpenterfor a copy of the cipher letter?"

"It won't do any particular harm, as I see it; it can't make us anyworse off and it may give us the letter. It's worth the trial, it seemsto me. "

"But if Carpenter has not succeeded in finding the key-word, how willthe letter help? Do you expect to bribe the French Embassy also?"

"It may not be necessary, " he replied. "I know a number of keys ofFrench ciphers; one of them may fit. "

"Very well, " said she quietly; "you are empowered to have a try atCarpenter. "

"Good--I'll start after it at once. Any further orders, madame?"

"None till evening, " again holding out her hand--and again smiling himinto kissing it adoringly. 

"A useful man, Marston!" she reflected when the door closed behind him. "And one who never presumes. A smile pays him for anything, and keepshim devoted to me. Yes, a very useful and satisfactory man. His idea ofcorrupting Carpenter may be rather futile; and he may get into a snarlby trying it, but, " with a shrug of her shapely shoulders, "that is hisaffair and won't involve me. And if he should prove successful, the newFrench key-word which the Count, the dear Count, gave me just before Ileft Paris, may turn the trick. "

The Count de M---- was confidential secretary to the Foreign Minister, and he had slipped her the bit of paper containing the key-word at aball, two evenings before she sailed on her present mission. He was notaware that she was sailing, nor was she; the order came so suddenly thatshe and her maid had barely time to fling a few things in a couple ofsteamer trunks and catch the last train. She had fascinated the Count;for a year he had been one of her most devoted, but most discreet, admirers. He also was exceedingly serviceable. Hence she took pains tohold him. 

Languidly she reached for her little gold mesh bag--the one thing thatnever left her--and from a secret pocket took several slips of paper. 

"Why, where is it!" she exclaimed, looking again with greater care.... "The devil! I've lost it!"

However, after a moment of thought, she recalled the key-word, and therule that he whispered to her--also the squeeze he gave her hand, andthe kiss with the eyes. The Count had fine eyes--he could look much, very much.... She smiled in retrospection.... Yet how did she drop thatbit of paper--and where?... Or did she drop it?... All the rest werethere. It was very peculiar.... She had referred to the De Neviers slipon last Saturday--and she distinctly remembered that the Count's wasthere at that time. Consequently she must have dropped it on Sunday whenshe was studying the Rosny matter, and then she was in this room--andMarston and Crenshaw and Sparrow were in the next room. --H-u-m.... Well, the Count wrote in a woman's hand; and the finder cannot make anythingout of the words:

_À l'aube du jour_. 

XV

IDENTIFIED

So it happened, that on the same day and practically at the same hourCarpenter gave instructions looking to the pilfering of the Frenchprivate diplomatic cipher, Marston began to lay plans to testCarpenter's venality, and Madeline Spencer betook herself to UnionStation to meet the man-in-the-case, whose face she had never seen, andwhose name she did not know. 

She went a roundabout way, walking down F Street and stopping to makesome trifling purchases in two or three shops. She could not detect thatshe was being followed, but she went into a large department store, andspent considerable time in matching some half-dozen shades of ribbon. Onthe way out she stepped into a telephone booth, and directed thedispatcher at the Chateau to send a taxi to Brentano's for Mrs. Williams. By the time she had leisurely crossed the street the taxi wasthere; getting in, she gave the order to drive to Union Station by wayof Sixteenth Street and Massachusetts Avenue. As she passed the Chateau, she saw Mrs. Clephane and Harleston coming out; a bit farther on theyshot by in a spanking car. 

She drew back to avoid recognition; but they were too much occupied witheach other, she observed, even to notice the occupant of the humble buthigh-priced taxi. At Scott Circle their car swung westward anddisappeared down Massachusetts Avenue; she turned eastward, towardtomorrow's rising sun, Union Station, and the rendezvous--with hate inher heart for the woman who had displaced her, and a firm resolve tosquare accounts at the first opportunity. Mrs. Clephane might beinnocent, likely was innocent of any intention to come between Harlestonand her, but that did not relieve Mrs. Clephane from punishment, norherself from the chagrin of defeat and the sorrow of blasted hopes. Thebalance was against her; and, be it man or woman, she always tried tobalance up promptly and a little more--when the balancing did notinterfere with the business on which she was employed. MadelineSpencer, for one of her sort, was exceptional in this: she always keptfaith with the hand that paid her. 

At Union Station she dismissed the taxi and walked briskly to the hugewaiting-room. There she dropped the briskness, and went leisurely downits long length to the drug stand, where she bought a few stamps andthen passed out through the middle aisle to the train shed, inquiring onthe way of an attendant the time of the next express from Baltimore. Tohis answer she didn't attend, nevertheless she thanked him graciously, and seeing the passengers were beginning to crowd through the gates froman incoming train she turned toward them, as if she were expectingsomeone. Which was true--only it was not by train. 

It had been five minutes past the hour, by the big clock in the station, when she crossed the waiting-room; by the time the crowd had passed thegates, and there was no excuse for remaining, another five had gone. Theappointment was for three exactly. She had not been concerned to keep itto the minute, but the man should have been; as a woman, it was herprerogative to be careless as to such matters; moreover she had foundit an advantage, as a rule, to be a trifle late, except with hersuperiors or those to whom either by position or expediency it was wellto defer. With such she was always on time--and a trifle more. 

As she turned away, a tall, fine-looking, well set-up, dark-haired, clean-cut, young chap, who had just rounded the news-stand, grabbed offhis hat and greeted her with the glad smile of an old acquaintance. 

"Why, how do you do, Mrs. Cuthbert!" he exclaimed. "This is anunexpected pleasure, and _most opportune_. "

There was a slight stress on the last two words:--the words ofrecognition. 

"Delightful, Mr. _Davidson_!" she returned--which continued therecognition--taking his extended hand and holding it. 

"Can't I see you to your car, or carriage, or whatever you're using?" heasked. 

"You may call a taxi, " she replied; "and you may also come with me, ifyou've nothing else to do. "

"I'm too sorry. There has been a--mixup, and it is _impossible_ now, Mrs. Cuthbert. _I have an important appointment at the Capitol. _" Whichcompleted the recognition. 

"When can you come to see me?" she asked. "I'm at the Chateau. "

"I hope tomorrow, if I'm not suddenly tied up. You will be disengaged?"

"I've absolutely nothing on hand for tomorrow, " she replied. 

"Fine!" he returned. "I think I can manage to come about one and takeyou out for luncheon. "

"That will be charming!" she smiled. 

"Where would you like to go--to the Rataplan?"

"Wherever you suggest, " she replied. "I'll leave it to you where weshall go and what we shall have. "

"You're always considerate and kind, " he averred. "If nothing untowardoccurs, it will be a fine chance to talk over old times, to explaineverything, and to arrange for the future. "

"That will be charming!"

"And unless I am disappointed in a _certain matter_, I shall have asurprise for you. "

"I shall welcome the surprise. "

"We both shall welcome it, I think!" he laughed. "It seems a long timesince I've seen you, Madeline, " he added. 

"It seems a long time to me, too, Billy. We must do better now, oldfriend. Come to Paris and we'll make such a celebration of it that theBoulevards will run with--gaiety. "

"I shall come. Meanwhile--tomorrow. " He raised his stick to the taxidispatcher. "I'm sorry to leave you, " he confided to her. 

"Let me take you as far as the Capitol, " she urged. 

"Not today. Wait until I come to Paris--then you may take me where youwill and how. "

"I like you, Billy!" she exclaimed. 

"And I've something more to tell you, " he whispered, as he put her inand closed the door. "The Chateau!" he said to the driver then steppingback, he doffed his hat and waved his hand. 

"Yes, I like you, Mr. Davidson, " she smiled, as the taxi sped away, "butI'll like you better when the present business is completed and I'm inParis--without you. "

He was a handsome chap enough, and he would have considerable money whenthe present business was completed, yet, somehow he did not appeal, even to her mercenary side. Moreover she no longer dealt in his sort. Time was when he would have served admirably, but she was done withplucking for plucking's sake. She plucked still, but neither soruthlessly nor so omnivorously as of yore. She did not need; nor was sheso gregarious in her tastes. She could pick and choose, and wait--andhave some joy of _Him_ and take her time; be content not to pluck himclean, and so retain his friendship even after he had been displaced. With her now it was the man in high office or of high estate at whom sheaimed--and her aim was usually true. Neither with one of her tastes andtendencies was monogamy apt to be attractive nor practiced--though attimes it subserved her expediency. At present, it was the Count deM----, an English Cabinet Minister, and a Russian Grand Duke;--but_discreetly_, oh, so discreetly that none ever dreamed of the others, and the public never dreamed of them. To all outward appearances, shedwelt in the odor of eminent respectability and sedate gaiety. 

"Drive slowly through Rock Creek Park until I tell you to return, " sheordered the man when they had passed beyond the station; then withdrewinto a corner of the taxi, and busied herself with her thoughts. 

It was almost two hours later that she gave him the Collingwood as adestination. 

At the Collingwood she dismissed the taxi, and without sending up hername passed directly up to Mrs. Chartrand's apartment. 

Miss Williams, who was on duty at the telephone desk, saw her--andwhistled softly. The instant the elevator door clanged shut, she rangHarleston. 

"If you can come down a moment, Mr. Harleston, " she said softly, "I havesome interesting information for you; it may not be well to--you know. "

"I'll be down at once, " Harleston replied. 

When he appeared, it was with his hat and stick, as though he were goingout. 

"If anyone calls, Miss Williams, " he remarked, pausing by her desk, "I'll be back in about half an hour. "

"Very well, Mr. Harleston, " she replied. Then she lowered her voice. "Your slender lady of the ripples, of the other night, has just come in. She's young, and a perfect peach for looks. "

"Who is she?" he asked. 

"I don't know. She didn't have herself announced; she went straight onup. Ben!" motioning to the elevator boy, "where did the slender woman, you just took up, get off?"

"At the fou'th flo', Miss Williams, " said Ben. "She went into fo' one. "

"You're sure of that?"

"Yas, Miss, " the negro grinned, "I waited to see. "

Miss Williams nodded a dismissal. 

"Four one is Chartrands' apartment, " she remarked. 

"Is this the lady of the ripples?" Harleston asked, handing her thephotograph of Madeline Spencer. 

"Sure thing!" she exclaimed. "That's she, all right. How in the worlddid you ever--pardon me, Mr. Harleston, I shouldn't have said that. "

"You're not meddling, Miss Williams. But it's a long story--too long todetail now. Some day soon I'll confide in you, for you've helped me verymuch in this matter and deserve to know. In fact, you've helped me morethan you can imagine. Meanwhile mum's the word, remember. "

"Mum, it is, Mr. Harleston, " she replied, "For once a telephone girlwon't leak, even to her best friends. "

"I believe you, " Harleston returned. "Keep your eyes open, also your_ears_, and report to me anything of interest as to our affair. "

Miss Williams answered with a knowing nod and an intimate little smile, then swung around to answer a call. Harleston returned to his rooms. Thehappenings of the recent evening were quite intelligible to him now:

When the episode of the cab of the sleeping horse occurred, Mrs. Spencerwas in the Chartrand apartment. Marston, in some way, had learned ofHarleston's participation in the cab matter, and with Sparrow hadfollowed him to the Collingwood, entering by the fire-escape--with theresults already seen. The noise on the fire-escape was undoubtedly madeby them, and the long interval that elapsed before they entered hisapartment was consumed in reporting to her, or in locating his number. 

One thing, however, was not clear: how they had learned so promptly ofHarleston's part in the affair, and that it was he who had taken theletter from the cab. Either someone had seen him at the cab and hadbabbled to the Marston crowd, or else Mrs. Winton or Mrs. Clephane hadnot been quite frank in her story. He instantly relieved Mrs. Clephaneof culpability; Mrs. Winton did not count with him. Moreover, it was nolonger of any moment--since Spencer's people knew and had acted on theirknowledge, and were still acting on it--and were still without theletter. The important thing to Harleston was that it had served todisclose what promised to be a most serious matter to this country, andwhich, but for the trifling incident of the cab, would likely have gonethrough successfully--and America been irretrievably injured. 

Madeline Spencer had assured him that the United States was notconcerned; that the matter had to do only with a phase of the Balkanquestion. But such assurances were worthless and given only to deceive, and, further, were so understood by both of them. Maybe her story wastrue--only the future would prove it. Meanwhile you trust at your peril, _caveat emptor_, your eyes are your market, or words to similar effect. Of course he could cause her to be apprehended by the police, yet sucha course was unthinkable; it would violate every rule of the game; itwould complicate relations with Germany, and afford her adequate groundfor reprisals on our secret agents. A certain code of honour obtainedwith nations, as well as with criminals. 

As he opened the door, the telephone rang. He took up the receiver. 

"Hello!" he said. 

"Is that you, Mr. Harleston?" came a soft voice. 

"It is Madame X!" he smiled. 

"Still Madame X?" she inflected. 

"Only to one person. "

"And to her no longer, " she returned. "What are you doing?"

"Thinking about coming down to dine with you. "

"Just what I was about to ask of you. Come at seven--to my apartment. Ihave something important to discuss. "

"So have I, " he replied. "I'll be along in an hour, or sooner if youwant me. "

"I want you, Mr. Harleston, " she laughed, "but I can wait an hour, Isuppose. "

"Which may mean much or little, " he replied. 

"Just so. --You may try your diplomatic methods on solving the problem. "

"My methods or my mind?" he asked. 

"Your mental methods, " she replied. 

"I pass!" he exclaimed. "You may explain at dinner. "

"Meanwhile, I recommend you to your diplomatic mind. "

"Until dinner?"

"Certainly--and forever after, Mr. Harleston, be an ordinary man withme, please. "

"Do you fancy that a _seeing_ man can be just an ordinary man when _you_are with him?" he asked. 

"I'm not required to fancy you what you're not, " she returned. 

"In other words, I'm not a seeing man?"

"Not especially, sir. --And there's another problem, for your diplomacy. _À bientôt_, Monsieur Harleston. "

He telephoned to the Club for a taxi to be at the door at a quarter toseven; then dressed leisurely and descended. 

"Any developments?" he inquired of Miss Williams. 

"None, " she replied. "Ripples hasn't come down yet. "

"All right, " said he. "Tell me in the morning--you're on duty then?"

She answered by a nod, the flash was calling her, and he passed ontoward the door--just as the elevator shot down and Madeline Spencerstepped out. 

"How do you do, Mr. Harleston?" said she, with a broad smile. 

"Hello, Mrs. Spencer! I'm glad to see you, " he returned. "If you'rebound for the Chateau or downtown, won't you let me take you in my car?It's at the door. "

"If you think you dare to risk your reputation, I'll be glad to accept, "she replied. 

"Is it a risk?" he asked. 

"That is for you to judge, " as he put her in. 

"The Chateau?" he inquired;--and when she nodded he leaned forward andgave the order. 

"I was surprised to see you--" he began. 

"Why pretend you were surprised to see me?" she laughed. "You were not;nor am I to see you. We are too old foes to pretend as to thenon-essentials--when each knows them. The cards are on the table, Guy, play them open. "

"How many cards are on the table?" he asked. 

"All of mine. "

"Then it's double dummy--with a blind deck on the side. "

"Whose side?" she flashed back. 

"Yours!" he returned pleasantly. 

"What am I concealing?" she demanded. 

"I don't know. If I did--it would be easier for me. "

"The one thing I haven't told you, I can't tell you: the precisecharacter of the business that brings me here. I've told you all Iknow--and broken my oath to do it. I can't well do more, Guy. "

"No, you can't well do more, " Harleston conceded. "And I can't well doless under all the--admitted circumstances; inferentially and directlyadmitted. "

"Why did you--butt in?" she asked. "Why didn't you let the cab, and theletter, and well enough alone?"

"It was so mysterious; and so full of possibilities, " he smiled. "Andwhen I did it, I didn't know that you were interested. "

"And it would have made you all the more prying if you had known, " sheretorted. 

"Possibly! I've never yet heard that personal feelings entered into thediplomatic secret service--and no more have you, my lady. "

"Personal feelings!" she smiled, and shrugged his answer aside. "Whendid you first know that I was concerned in this affair?"

"When I saw you in the Chateau, " he replied--there was no obligation onhim to mention the photograph. 

"Which was?" she asked. 

"The evening I met you in Peacock Alley. How long then had you beenhere?"

"Two days!"

"And not a word to me?"

"'Personal feelings do not enter into the diplomatic secret service, '"she quoted mockingly. 

"Precisely, " he agreed, "We understand each other and the game. "

It served his purpose not to notice the mock in her tones. He very wellunderstood what it imported and what prompted it. For the first timethe tigress had disclosed her claws. Hitherto it was always the softcaress and the soothing purr--and when she wished, her caress could bevery soft and her purr very soothing. He had assumed that there wereclaws, but she had hidden them from him; and what is ever hidden oneafter a time forgets. And she had some justification for her resentment. He admitted to himself that his attitude and manner had been such asmight cause her to believe that she was more to him than an opponent ina game, that he was about to forgive her past, and to ask her to warrantonly for the future. And he had a notion that she was prepared towarrant and to keep the warrant--even as she had done with the Duke ofLotzen. Now it was ended. He knew it. 

And she knew it, too. One sight of Mrs. Clephane with him and sherealized that he was lost to her: Mrs. Clephane had all her outwardgrace and beauty, but not her past. Her woman's intuition had told herin the red-room of the Chateau; she knew absolutely when she saw hisgreeting to Mrs. Clephane in the corridor after her escape. She must goback to her Count de M----, her Cabinet Minister, and her Russian GrandDuke. The only two men she had ever cared for would have none of her, despite her beauty and her fascination. Dalberg ever had scorned her;Harleston had looked with favour, wavered, was about to yield, whenanother--outwardly her _alter ego_, save only in the colour of herhair--appeared and filched him from her. And whether Dalberg's scorn orHarleston's defection was the more humiliating, she did not know. Together they made a mocking and a desolation of her love and her life. And as she came to hate with a fierce hatred the Princess whom Dalbergloved, so with an even more bitter hatred she hated Mrs. Clephane whohad won Harleston from her. For while with Dalberg she never had theslightest chance, and knew it perfectly, with Harleston there was thebitterness of blasted hopes as well as of defeat. 

And Harleston, sitting there beside her, the perfume of her hair andgarments heavy about him, read much that was in her thoughts; and someremorse smote him--a little of remorse, that is--and he would have saidsomething in mitigation of her judgment. But a look at her--and theexcuse was put aside and the subject ended before it was even begun. She was not one to accept excuses or to be proffered them, it were bestto let the matter rest. Meanwhile, Mrs. Clephane must be warned of thedanger confronting her. 

He glanced again at her--and met her subtle smile. 

"This Mrs. Clephane, " she remarked with quiet derision, "wherein is shedifferent from the rest of us?"

"By 'us' you mean whom?" he asked. 

"The women you have known. "

"And seen?"

"And seen. "

"You're exceedingly catholic!" he smiled. 

"You're exceedingly exclusive--and precipitate; and you haven't answeredmy question. Wherein is Mrs. Clephane different from the rest of us?"

"At the risk of being personal, " he replied, "I should say that she isvery like you in face and figure and manner. If her hair were black, theresemblance would be positively striking. "

"Then, since we're on the personal equation, the difference is where?"

He threw up his hands and laughed to avoid the obvious answer, ananswer which she knew, and knew he wished to avoid. 

"The difference is where?" she repeated. 

"I shall let you judge if there is a difference, and if there is, whatit is, " he replied. 

"I wish to know _your_ mind, Mr. Harleston--I already know my own. "

"Good girl!" he applauded. 

"Please put me aside and consider Mrs. Clephane, " she insisted. "Is shecleverer than--well, than I am?"

"You are the cleverest woman that I have ever known. "

"Is she more intellectual?"

"Preserve me from the intellectual woman!" he exclaimed. 

"Is she more travelled?"

"I think not. "

"Is she superficially more cultured?"

"I should say not. "

"Has she a better disposition?"

"No one could have a better disposition than you have ever shown to me. "

"Is she more fascinating in manner?"

"She couldn't be!"

"She _is_ younger?" tentatively. 

Harleston did not reply. 

"But very little--two or three years, maybe?" she added. 

Again Harleston did not reply. 

"Is her conversation more entertaining?" she resumed. 

"Impossible!"

"Or more edifying?"

"Excuse me again!" he exclaimed. "Edifying is in the same class asintellectual. "

"Then all Mrs. Clephane has on me is a few years?"

He nodded. 

"Other things don't count with you, I assume--when they're of the past, and both have been a trifle tinctured. "

She said it with affected carelessness and a ravishing smile; butHarleston was aware that underneath there was bitterness of spirit, andcold hate of the other woman. She had touched the pinch of the matter. Both knew it, and both knew the answer. Yet she was hoping against hope;and he was loath to hurt her needlessly, because Mrs. Clephane would besure to catch the recoil, and because he himself was very fond ofher--despite all and Mrs. Clephane. He had seen his mistake in time, ifit was a mistake, but that did not blind him to Madeline Spencer'sfascinating manner and beautiful person, and to the fact that she caredfor him. However, neither might he let pass the charge she had just madeagainst Mrs. Clephane. Yet he tried to be kind to the woman beside him, while defending the woman who was absent, and, as is often the caseunder such circumstances he played for time--the hotel was but a blockaway--and made a mess of it, so far as the woman beside him wasconcerned. 

"Who are a trifle tinctured--and with what?" he asked. 

She smiled languidly. 

"That is scarcely worthy of you, Guy, " she remarked. "You are aimingat--windmills; at least, I think you are not suddenly gone stupid. However, you do not need to answer. Mrs. Clephane, you think, is nottinctured, and you know that I have been--several shades deep. In otherwords, she surpasses me in your estimation in the petty matter ofmorals. So be it; you're no fool, and a pretty woman cannot blind you tothe facts for long. Then we shall see which you prefer. The woman whois honest about the tincture, or the woman who is not. Now let us dropthe matter, and attend strictly to business until such time as thepresent business is ended, --and Mrs. Clephane appears as she is. "

"So be it!" Harleston replied heartily, "We understand each other, Madeline. "

"Yes, we understand each other, " she said laconically, as the car drewin to the curb. 

"So well, indeed, " he continued, as he gave her his hand to thesidewalk, "that I have to arrange for you to meet the Secretary of Stateat four o'clock tomorrow afternoon. "

"Where?" said she, looking at him narrowly. 

"In his office. You would like to meet him, Madeline?"

"I don't know what your play is, " she laughed, "but I'll meet him--andtake my chances. From all I can learn, the gentleman isn't much butbumptiousness and wind. To either you or me, Guy, he should be easy. "

"The play, " Harleston explained, "is that the Secretary has heard of youand wishes to see the remarkable woman who--almost upset a throne. "

"His wish shall be gratified, " she shrugged. "Will you come for me, oram I to go to him--a rendezvous _à deux_?"

"I'll escort you to him--afterward it will depend on you. "

"Very good!" she replied--"but all the same I wonder what's the game. "

"The Secretary's wish and curiosity is the only game, " he replied. 

"Far be it from me to balk either--when something may result ofadvantage to your--"

"--beautiful and fascinating self, " he interjected. 

She raised her eyebrows and laughed scornfully, as the lift bore herupwards. 

XVI

ANOTHER LETTER

Harleston sauntered through Peacock Alley; not finding Mrs. Clephane, hehad himself announced and went up to her apartment. 

Outwardly he was impassive; inwardly there was the liveliest sensationof eagerness and anticipation. He could not recall a time when he had somuch joy in living, and in the expectation of the woman. And when hefelt Mrs. Clephane's small hand in his, and heard her bid him welcome, and looked into her eyes, he was well content to be alive--and with her. 

"I've quite a lot to tell you, " she smiled. "I'm so glad you could dinewith me--it will give us much more time. "

"Time is not of the essence of this contract, " he replied. 

"What contract?" she asked, with a fetching little frown of perplexity. 

"The contract of the present--and the future. "

"Oh, you mean our friendship--and that you won't doubt me ever again?"

"Precisely--and then some, " he confided. 

"What is the 'some', Mr. Harleston?" frowning again in perplexity. 

"Whatever may happen, " he said slowly. 

"You mean it?" she asked. 

"I mean it--and more--when I may. "

"The 'more' and the 'may' are in the future, " she remarked. "Meanwhile, what have you to report?"

"Very considerable, " said he. "Mrs. Spencer was in the Collingwood, thisafternoon--in the Chartrands' apartment. And the telephone girlrecognized her as the woman who left the building on the night ofthe--cab. "

"That explains a lot to you!" Mrs. Clephane exclaimed. 

"The explanation isn't necessary, except to complete the chain ofevents, " he replied. "We know the later and essential facts as to theletter. There is just one earlier circumstance that isn't clear to me;and while, as I say, it's immaterial yet I'm curious. How did theSpencer gang know that I had taken the letter from the cab?"

"Oh!" Mrs. Clephane cried. "I fancy I can explain. You know I saw you atthe cab. Well, when they released me, I concluded I'd give themsomething to think about, and I remarked that Mr. Harleston, of theUnited States Diplomatic Service, had stopped at the cab, looked inside, and then started the horse out Massachusetts Avenue. I thought I hadtold you. "

"You didn't tell me, but it's very plain now. Madeline Spencer inferredthe rest and instructed them how to act. And they came very close toturning the trick. "

"You mean to getting the letter?" she cried. 

He nodded. "I had gone to bed, when something told me to takeprecautions; I carried the letter across the corridor and gave it to afriend to keep for me until morning. A short time after, the three mencalled. "

"Good Heavens!" she breathed. "What if they had gotten the letter. "

"Unless they knew the key-word, they wouldn't have been any better offthan are we--I mean than is the United States. "

"I'm France, am I?" she smiled. 

"For only this once--and not for long, I trust, " he replied. 

"Amen!" she exclaimed, "Also for ever more. I'll be so relieved to beout of it and back to my normal ways that I gladly promise never to tryit again. I'm committed to seeing this affair through and to aiding theFrench Embassy in whatever way I can, both because I must keep faithwith Madame Durrand, and because my inexperience and credulity lost itthe letter. That done, and I'm for--you, Mr. Harleston!" she laughed. 

"And I'm for you always--no matter whom you're for, nor what you may door have done, " he replied. 

For just an instant she gave him her eyes; then the colour flamed up andshe turned hastily away. 

"Sit down, sir, " she commanded--most adorably he thought; "I had almostforgotten that I have something to tell you. "

"You've been telling me a great deal, " he confided. 

She shrugged her answer over her shoulder, and peremptorily motioned himto a chair. 

"Madame Durrand has been located, " she began. "The Embassy telephonedme that she is in Passavant Hospital, getting along splendidly; and thatshe duly wired them of her accident and of my having the letter, with anidentifying description of me. The wire was never received. "

"It was blocked by a _present_, " he remarked. "The wire never left thehospital. "

"So the Marquis d'Hausonville said. He also assured me that the letterwas of no immediate importance, and that steps were being taken to haveit repeated. "

"Which may be true, " Harleston smiled, "but it is entirely safe toassume that he is acting precisely as though the letter was of the mostimmediate importance. You may be sure that the moment you left him hedispatched a cable to Paris reciting the facts, so that the ForeignOffice could judge whether to cable the letter or to dispatch it bymessenger. And he has the reply hours ago. "--("Also, " he might haveadded, "our State Department--only it may not be able to translate it. ")"I should say, Mrs. Clephane, that your duty is done now, unless theMarquis calls on you for assistance. You have performed your part--"

"Very poorly, " she interjected. 

"On the contrary, you have performed it exceptionally well. You, anovice at this business, prevented the letter from falling intoSpencer's hands, and so you blocked that part of their game. No, no, Mrs. Clephane, I regard you as more than acquitted of blame. "

"You're always nice, Mr. Harleston!" she responded. 

"Nice expresses very inadequately what I wish to be to you, " he saidslowly. 

Again the flush came--and her glance wavered, and fled away. 

"Meanwhile, " he went on, "I am quite content to know that you think menice to you. "

She sprang up and moved out of distance, saying as she did so, with aravishing smile:

"Nice is comprehended in other pleasant--adjectives. "

"It is?" said he, advancing slowly toward her. 

"But you, Mr. Harleston, are forbidden to guess how pleasant, or theparticular adjective, until you're permitted. "

"And you'll permit me to guess some day--and soon. "

"Maybe so--and maybe not!" she laughed. "It will depend on the both ofus--and the business in hand. Diplomats, you are well aware, are givento very disingenuous ways and methods. "

"In diplomacy, " he appended. "A diplomat, as a rule, is merely a man ofa little wider experience and more mature judgment--the Americandiplomat alone excepted, save in the secret service. Therefore he knowshis mind, and what he wants; and he usually can be depended upon to keepafter it until he gets it. "

"And to want it after he gets it?" she inquired. 

"Don't be cynical, " he cautioned. 

"I'm not. The world looks good to me, and I try to look good to theworld. "

"You have succeeded!" he exclaimed. 

"I've about-faced, " she went on. "Now I presume everybody trustworthyuntil it's proven otherwise. Time was, and not so long ago, when I wasmore than cynical; and I found it didn't pay in a woman. A man may becynical and get away with it; a woman only injures her complexion, andmakes trouble for herself. Me for the happy spirit, and side-steppingthe bumps. "

"Good girl!" Harleston applauded--thinking of her unhappy spirit, andthe hard bumps she must have endured during the time that the latedeceased Clephane was whirling to an aeroplane finish. "You're a wonder, Mrs. Clephane, " he ended. 

"Aren't you afraid you'll make me vain?" she asked. 

"It can't be done, " he averred. "You simply can't be spoiled; you're muchtoo sensible. "

"La! la!" she trilled. "What a paragon of--"

--"everything, " he adjected. 

"Everything that I must be, if you so wish it. "

"Just so!" he replied. 

"Aren't you afraid of a paragon, Mr. Harleston?"

"Generally, yes; specifically, no. "

"La! la!" she trilled again. "You're becoming mystic; which meansmysterious, which means diplomatic, which means deception--which warnsus to get back to the simple life and have dinner. Want dinner, Mr. Harleston?"

"With you, yes; also breakfast and luncheon daily. "

"You couldn't do that unless you were my husband, " she repliedtantalizingly and adorably. 

"I'm perfectly aware of it, " he responded, leaning forward over theback of the chair that separated them. 

"But I'm not ready to take a husband, monsieur, " she protested lightly. 

"I'm perfectly aware of that also. When you are ready, madame, I amready too. Until then I'm your good friend--and dinner companion. "

He had spoken jestingly--yet the jest was mainly pretence; the realpassion was there and ready the instant he let it control. As for Mrs. Clephane, Harleston did not know. Nor did she herself know--more thanthat she was quite content to be with him, and let him do for her, assured that he would not misunderstand, nor misinterpret, nor presume. So, across the chair's back, she held out her hand to him; and he tookit, pressed it lightly, but answered never a word. 

"Now you shall hear the special matter I've got bottled up, " said she. "Whom do you think was here late this afternoon?"

"The Emperor of Spain!" he guessed. 

"A diplomatic answer!" she mocked. "There is no Emperor of Spain; yetit's not absolutely wide of the diplomatic truth, for it was Mrs. Buissard--she of the cab, you'll remember. "

"So!" Harleston exclaimed. "What's the move now; I fancy she was notpaying a social visit. "

"You fancy correctly, " Mrs. Clephane replied. "She came to the apartmentunannounced; and when I, chancing to be passing the door when sheknocked, opened it, and saw who was without, I almost cried out withsurprise. I didn't cry out, however. On the contrary, rememberingdiplomatic ways, I most cordially invited her in. To do her justice, Mrs. Buissard, beyond expressing hope that I had experienced no illeffect from the occurrence of the other night, wasted no time in comingto business. "

"'Mrs. Clephane, ' she said, sitting on the corner of the table justwhere you are sitting now, 'I have a proposition to make to you--may Imake it?'

"I could see no reason to forbid, so I acquiesced. 

"'And if you cannot accept straightway, will you promise to forget thatit was made?' she asked. 

"Again I acquiesced. I admit, I was curious. 

"'We assume, ' said she, 'that between France and Germany you areindifferent. '

"'Paris and Berlin have each their good points, ' I replied. 

"'Quite so, ' she acquiesced; 'just now, however, we ask you to favourBerlin and for a consideration. '

"'I don't want a consideration, ' I smiled; 'tell me what's the favouryou seek?'

"'We ask you, ' she replied instantly, 'to take a letter to the FrenchAmbassador and tell him that it is the letter Madame Durrand gave you inNew York, and that it has just been returned to you by the AmericanState Department. '

"'Have you the letter with you?' I asked. 

"'I have, ' she replied, producing it from her bag. 'It may not exactlyresemble the original. '

"'It doesn't, ' said I. 

"'But the French Ambassador won't know it, ' she smiled. 'Further, so asto make the matter entirely regular with you, you will receive anappointment in the German Secret Service and five thousand dollars inadvance. '

"'Is it usual to--change sides so suddenly?' I asked. 

"'You're not changing sides, ' she explained. 'You've never had a side, in the diplomatic sense. It is entirely regular in diplomacy for you totake such a course as is proposed; there is nothing unusual about it. And, my dear Mrs. Clephane, a position in the German Foreign SecretService is a rare plum, I can assure you, even though you may not careto be--active in it. '

"Naturally, I understood. Mrs. Spencer thinking me the same type asherself, without conscience, character, or morals, had evolved this planeither to test me or to ensnare me. To test me, because she is jealousof you; or to ensnare me because she wants to win out diplomatically--orboth, it may be. I am a poor hand at pretence; but I played the game, asyou would say, to the best of my ability. So I seemed to fall in withher scheme; France was nothing to me; I had been given no option in thematter of accepting the letter and attempting its delivery; I had doneall and more than could be expected of a disinterested person; I hadlost the letter but through no fault of mine. I was acquitted of furtherresponsibility; was at liberty to choose. And Mrs. Buissard agreed withme in everything. In the end, I accepted the spurious letter fordelivery to the French Ambassador. "

"Good!" Harleston applauded. "You're learning the method of diplomacyvery rapidly; fire with fire, ruse with ruse, deceit withdeceit--anything for the object in hand. "

"It went against me to do it, " she admitted, "but I'll pay them in theirown coin--or something to that effect. Of course, I've no intention ofdelivering the letter to the French Embassy. I'll deliver it to youinstead. "

"Delightful!" Harleston exclaimed. "You're a bully diplomat. However, I'm not so sure that Spencer ever imagined her letter would reach theMarquis. She's playing for something else, though what is by no meansclear. Let us have a look at the letter; maybe it will help. "

She stood beside him as he cut the envelope and he took out the singlesheet of paper--on which was an assortment of letters, set downseparately and without relation to words. 

"What is it, " said she, "a scrambled alphabet?"

"Looks like it!" he smiled. "As a matter of fact, however, it's in theBlocked-Out Square cipher--like the original lett--"

"Then they could read the original?" she cut in. 

"Not unless they have its particular key-word--"

"Oh, yes; I remember now, " said she. "Go on!"

"There's no 'go on, '" he explained. "Nor would it help matters if therewere. This letter is spurious; there is nothing to find from it, even ifwe could translate it. It's intended as a plant; either for us or forthe Marquis; but I fancy, for us--so with your permission we will wasteno time on it further than to keep alert for its purpose. When were youto receive the five thousand dollars?"

"I don't know!" she laughed. 

"And the appointment to the German Secret Service?"

"I don't know; she didn't say and I didn't ask. I was too much occupiedwith meeting her on her own ground and playing the game. I was crazy toget the letter so I could show it to you. "

"Which doubtless was what she too wanted; I can't see through herscheme--unless it is to muddy the water while the main play is beingpulled off. And our men haven't discovered a single material thing, though they have had Spencer and all the rest of the gang under shadowsince the morning after the cab affair. "

The telephone buzzed. Mrs. Clephane answered it. 

"Yes, Mr. Harleston is here, " she said, passing the receiver to him. 

"Hello!" said Harleston. 

"Can you make it convenient to drop around here sometime this evening?"Major Ranleigh inquired. 

"Will ten o'clock do?"

"Yes. "

"I'll be there, " said Harleston. 

XVII

IN THE TAXI

At ten o'clock Harleston walked into Ranleigh's office. 

"I just wish to ask, " said the Major, "if you want us to pick up the manwho met Mrs. Spencer this afternoon. It's against your orders, I know, but this chap can be arrested without resulting complications, I think. He's an American. "

"Who is he?" Harleston asked. 

"Snodgrass, an ex-Captain in the Army; a man of seeming independentmeans, who lives at the Boulogne. "

"I'm acquainted with him, " returned Harleston. "I can't think that he'scrooked. I reckon Spencer's figure and face attracted him--or probablyhe has known her in Europe. "

"I'm only giving you the facts: he's the first man, other than those ofher entourage, that she has met since we've had her under surveillance. It was at Union Station, this afternoon. She went there alone, afterloitering for an hour through the shops of F Street. In the train-shedshe chanced, seemingly by the veriest accident, upon Snodgrass. Healmost bumped into her as they rounded the news-stand. From their gaietythey are old acquaintances; and after a word he turned and accompaniedher to the cab-stand and put her in a taxi. As far as the shadow saw, there was no letter or papers passed--only conversation. And what hemanaged to overhear of it was seemingly quite innocent of value to us. He called her Madeline and she called him Billy, which isn't his name, and invited him to Paris; so they must be pretty well acquainted. Theyare to meet at one o'clock tomorrow. That's the first matter to report. The second is that Marston is spying around the French Embassy. He haswalked up Sixteenth Street frequently since four o'clock, and never onceglanced at the big marble mansion when he thought anyone was looking. His eyes were busy enough other times. Also he visited, after dark, Paublo's Eating-House in the Division, and had a talk withJimmy-the-Snake--a professional burglar of the best class. We arewatching The Snake, of course. Something will be done at the FrenchEmbassy tonight, I imagine. Finally, at nine o'clock, Marston went toCarpenter's residence and was admitted. He came out fifteen minuteslater, and returned to the Chateau. I assume that Carpenter will tellyou of this errand. "

Harleston nodded. 

"What shall be done as to Snodgrass--also as to Mrs. Spencer and oneo'clock tomorrow?" Ranleigh asked. "Do you wish me to prevent themeeting?"

"No, " said Harleston, after a little consideration; "simply keep them inview and follow them. I can't imagine Snodgrass being concerned in thisaffair. It's the lady he's after, not her mission. It's likely hedoesn't even know she's in the Secret Service. However, keep an eye onthem; I may be mistaken. "

The telephone buzzed. Ranleigh answered, then passed the instrumentacross to Harleston. 

"Is that you, Harleston?... This is Carpenter. I've just had a mostamazing proposition made to me. It will keep until morning, but droparound at the Department about nine-thirty and I'll unburden myself. "

"Is it Marston?" Harleston asked. 

"Exactly; however did you guess it?"

"However did you guess I was with Ranleigh?" Harleston laughed. 

"I didn't guess; I called Mrs. Clephane, told her I wanted you--andpresto! There's small trick about that, old fox--except in knowing yourquarry. So long--and don't!"

"If you don't mind, Carpenter, I'll stop on my way home. I'm justbeginning to be interested. "

"Come along!" was the answer. 

"Carpenter--to explain a Marston proposition, " Harleston remarked, pushing back the instrument. 

"They are muddying the water all around, " Ranleigh commented. "So Iimagine they are about to make a get-away with the goods. "

"Try to, Ranleigh, try to, " Harleston amended. "They won't make aget-away so long as we have Madame Spencer in our midst. Keep your eyeon the dark-haired loveliness; with her in the landscape the goods arestill here. Now for Carpenter. "

"Permit me to suggest a taxi!" Ranleigh observed. "It's just as wellthat you shouldn't wander about alone on the well-lighted streets of theNational Capital--"

"You think I might be suspended by the Interstate Commerce Commission, or enjoined by the Federal Trades Commission, or be violating theClayton Anti-Trust Act?"

"You might be any and all of them, God knows--as well as contrary tosome paternal act of a non-thinking, theoretical, and subservientCongress. However, I'm pinning my faith to you and hoping for the best;Jimmy-the-Snake is cruising whether and whence and wherefore. "

"Also besides and among!" Harleston laughed. 

"Seriously, I mean it about The Snake, " Ranleigh repeated; "and you'dbetter have this with you also, " taking a small automatic from a drawerof his desk and handing it across. "You may have need of it; if you do, it will be very convenient. "

Harleston, descending from the taxi, found Carpenter waiting for him onthe front piazza. 

"Your friend Marston is a very pleasant chap, " he remarked; "also he hasa most astonishing nerve. He actually tried to bribe me for a copy ofthe Clephane letter. "

"How did you meet it?" Harleston asked. 

"I was at a loss how to meet it--whether to be indignant and order himout, or to be acquiescently non-committal. I chose the latter course;and after a few preliminary feelers he came out with his offer: fivethousand dollars for liberty to make a copy of the original letter. Ithought a moment, then came back at him with the counter proposition: ifhe would secure the key-word from the French Embassy, I would obtain theletter; then together we would make the translation. "

"Delightful!" Harleston applauded. "What did he say to that?"

"What could he do but accept? It was fair, and he had premised his offerby a solemn assurance that the United States was not involved!"

"Delightful!" said Harleston again. "I reckon you've seen the last ofMarston. "

"He said he would have the key-word by tomorrow night or sooner, "Carpenter remarked. 

"I suppose you parted like fellow conspirators, " Harleston laughed. 

"Yes; suspicious of each other and ready for anything. We were strictlyprofessional. Diplomatic manners and distrustful hearts. "

"Do you think that Marston will try for the key-word?" Harleston asked. 

"I do! He probably has it, or rather Spencer has it. Also I think hewill submit it for a test with the letter. He knows his attempt to bribeme failed, and that the only way he can have access to the letter is tocome with the key-word. And you need not fear that I shall let him copythe letter until after I've tested the key-word and found it correct. "

"Where is the letter?" Harleston asked. 

"Locked in the burglar-proof safe in my office. "

"Who knows the combination?"

"Spendel, my confidential clerk. "

"Trustworthy?"

"I would as soon suspect myself. "

"Very good! Now, another thing: do you know Fred Snodgrass, anex-Captain of the Army, who lives at the Boulogne?"

"Casually, " said Carpenter. 

"Ever suspect him of being in the German pay?"

"No. However, he is an intimate friend of Von Swinkle, the SecondSecretary--if that's any indication. "

"Rather the reverse, I should say. However, he met Madeline Spenceryesterday in Union Station. The meeting was apparently accidental, andso far as his shadow could see or hear was entirely innocent. "

"I distrust the apparently accidental and the entirely innocent--indiplomacy, " Carpenter remarked. "We should keep an eye on Snodgrass. "

"Meanwhile what are _you_ doing as to the French key-word--trying forit?" Harleston asked, going toward the door. 

Carpenter nodded. "I've got my lines out. I hope to land it in a fewdays. If Marston has it, or gets it earlier, so much the better for us. "

Harleston had walked a block before he recollected that he was obligatedto Ranleigh to go in a taxi. The one in which he had come fromHeadquarters he had dismissed, not knowing how long he would be atCarpenter's, and he had neglected to telephone for another. He would notgo back to Carpenter's; and, anyway, it was nonsense always to beguarding himself from the enemy. 

He had not a thing they wanted, nor did he know aught that would be ofuse to them; and his directorship of the affair was not of greatimportance; another, if he knew the facts, could take his place and seethe matter through. That was the important point, however. Time wasexceedingly material; and if the Spencer gang caused him to disappearfor a few days, they would have a free hand until Ranleigh or Carpenterawoke to the situation. It was not exactly just to the cause for him totake unnecessary chances. A drug store was but a short distance up thestreet, on the other side; he would telephone from it for a taxi. 

A moment later, with the honk of a horn, a yellow taxi rounded thecorner and bore his way. 

He raised his stick to the driver, in event of him being free--andstepped out from the sidewalk. 

The man shook his head in negation and the machine flashed by--leavingHarleston staring after it with a somewhat surprised and very muchpuzzled frown. 

Madeline Spencer was in the taxi--alone. Furthermore, she had not seenhim. 

XVIII

DOUBT

At N, the next cross-street, the taxi turned west. Instantly Harlestonmade for the corner. When he got there, the machine was swinging northinto Connecticut Avenue. He ran down N Street at the top of his speed. When he reached the avenue the car was not in sight, nor was there anyone on the street as far as Dupont Circle; and as thoroughfares radiatefrom the Circle as the spokes of a wheel from the hub, the taxi couldhave gone in practically any direction. 

So he gave over running--running after a taxi-cab was not in hisline--and resumed his walk northward. At Dupont Circle he found a lonecab with a drowsy negro on the box; who came quickly to life, however, at his approach. 

"Cab, seh, cab?" he solicited. 

"Which way did the yellow taxi go that just came up Connecticut Avenue?"Harleston asked. 

"Out Massachu'ts abenu', seh, yass seh. --Cab, seh?"

"Drive out Massachusetts Avenue, " Harleston directed, getting in. "If yousee a taxi, get close to it. "

"I'll do hit, seh, yass seh!" said the negro, as he climbed on the boxand jerked the lines. 

But though they went out the avenue to beyond Sheridan Circle, and backagain, and along the streets north of P and west of Twentieth, no taxiwas seen--nor any trace of Madeline Spencer. They drove over the routefor more than an hour--and never raised a yellow taxi nor a skirt. Finally Harleston abandoned the search and headed the cab for theCollingwood. 

Miss Williams was on duty when he entered, and she signalled him to thedesk. 

"The Chateau has been trying to get you for the last half-hour, " saidshe. "Shall I call them?"

"If you please, " he replied, "I'll wait here. "

Presently she nodded to Harleston; he stepped into the booth and closedthe door. 

"This is Mr. Harleston, " said he. 

"I recognize your voice, Guy, dear, " came Madeline Spencer's softtones. "I'd know it _anywhere_, indeed. "

"The same to you, my lady, " Harleston returned. "Was that what you werecalling me for?"

"No, no!" she laughed. "I just wanted to tell you that I'm back at theChateau. I thought you might be interested, you know; you sprinted sorapidly up N Street, and spent so much time driving around in a cabsearching for me, that I assume it will be a very great relief to you toknow that I am returned. It was such a satisfaction, Guy, to feel thatyou were so solicitous for my safety, and I appreciate it, my dear, Iappreciate it. Meanwhile, you might wish to get busy as to my _alterego_. I saw her going up Sixteenth Street, as I was returning--a littleafter eleven o'clock. Maybe _she_ needs assistance, Guy; you never cantell. See you tomorrow, old enemy. Good-bye for tonight. "

"I say--are you there, Madeline?" Harleston ejaculated; then askedagain. When no one answered he hung up the receiver and came from thebooth. Spencer, that time, had put one over him; two, maybe, for he_was_ concerned about Mrs. Clephane. Spencer had gone without hershadow, been free to transact her business, and returned--and all thetime she knew of passing him and his pursuit of her, and was enjoyinghis discomfiture. To add a trifle more uneasiness, she had thrown in thematter of Mrs. Clephane. Probably it was false; yet he could not be sureand it troubled him. All of which, he was aware, Mrs. Spencerintended--and took a devilish joy in doing. 

Harleston made a couple of turns up and down the room; then he sat downand drummed a bit on the table; finally he reached for the telephone. Itwas very late, but he would call her--she would understand. 

He got the Chateau and, giving his name, asked whether Mrs. Clephane wason the first floor of the hotel. In a few minutes the answer came: shewas not; should they give him her apartment? He said yes. Presently asleepy voice answered. He recognized it as Marie--the maid--and had somedifficulty in convincing her of his identity. He did it at last only byspeaking French to her--which, as he had hitherto addressed her only inFrench, was not extraordinary. 

And, being convinced, she answered promptly enough that Mrs. Clephanewas not in--she had gone down-stairs about two hours ago telling her notto wait up. She had no idea where Mrs. Clephane went; she had saidnothing about leaving the hotel. 

"Ask her to call me at the Collingwood the moment she comes in, " saidHarleston. 

Then he got Ranleigh and told him of the Spencer episode and of Mrs. Clephane's disappearance. 

"You would better put Mrs. Clephane under lock and key--or else staywith her and keep her from rash adventures, " Ranleigh commented. 

"I quite agree with you, " said Harleston. "Meanwhile I might inquirewhere was Mrs. Spencer's shadow while she was taxiing up the avenue?"

"I fancy he was on his job, though you may not have seen him, " Ranleighreplied. "His report in the morning will tell. "

"I would sooner have a report as to Mrs. Clephane's whereabouts, "Harleston remarked. 

"I can't see what good she would be to them now?" said Ranleigh. "Shehasn't a thing they want. "

"Granted; yet where is she? moreover, she promised me to do nothingunusual and to beware of traps. "

"She has the feminine right to reconsider, " Ranleigh reminded him. "However, I'll instruct the bureau to get busy and--"

"Wait until morning, " Harleston interjected. "If Mrs. Clephane hasn'tappeared by nine o'clock, I'll telephone you. "

Harleston leaned back in his chair frowning. Washington was not a largecity, yet under certain circumstances she could be lost in it--and staylost, with all the efforts of the police quite unavailing to find her. It seemed improbable that she had been abducted; as Ranleigh had said, they had nothing to gain from her. She could neither advance their plansnor hinder them; she was purely a negative quantity. Spencer might bestriking at him through Mrs. Clephane, intending to hold her surety forhis neutrality, or to feed her own revenge, or maybe both. Yet, somehow, he could not hold to the notion; it was too petty for their game. Moreover, Spencer knew that it would be ineffective, and she was not oneto waste time in methods, petty or inefficient. Of course, it might bethat she had merely twitted him about the episode, as a jealous womanwould do. 

And yet what could have taken Mrs. Clephane from the hotel at such anhour, and without apprising her maid; and why was she driving upSixteenth Street? Or was Spencer's talk just a lie; intended to throw ascare into him and give him a bad quarter of an hour--until he wouldventure to call up Mrs. Clephane's apartment? And if he did not venture, the bad quarter would last the balance of the night. At all events andwhatever her idea Madeline Spencer had succeeded in disturbing him to anunusual degree--and all because of Mrs. Clephane. 

At last he sprang up, threw on a light top-coat, grabbed a hat, and madefor the door. He would go down to the Chateau and investigate. Anythingwas preferable to this miserable waiting. 

The corridor door was swinging shut behind him, when his telephonebuzzed. He flung back the door and reached the receiver in a bound. 

"Yes!" he exclaimed. 

"I forgot to say, Guy, " came Madeline Spencer's purring voice, "thatI'll tell you in the morning, if you care to pay me a visit, how my_alter ego_ came to be on Sixteenth Street at so unusual an hour. It'srather interesting as to details. By the way, you must be sitting besidethe receiver expecting a call; you answered with such amazingpromptness!" and she laughed softly. "Shall I expect you at eleven, orwill you be content to wait until we go to the Department at four?"

"I had just finished talking with Mrs. Clephane when you called, "Harleston replied imperturbably, then laughed mockingly. "I'll be at theChateau for you at half-after-three; you can give me the details then. Ishall be delighted, Madeline, to compare your details with hers. "

"I wonder!" said she. 

"What do you wonder?" said he. 

"Whether you are--well, no matter; we'll take it up this afternoon. _Tout à l'heure, Monsieur Harleston_!"

He was turning once more toward the door, when the telephone rang again. 

"Is that Mr. Harleston?" said Mrs. Clephane's lovely voice--andHarleston's grin almost flowed into the transmitter. 

"It is indeed!" he responded--then severely: "Where have you been, mylady? You have given me a most horrible fright. "

"I cry your pardon, my lord; I'll not transgress again, " she laughed. "And if you don't scold me I'll tell you something--something I'm surewill be worth even a diplomat's hearing. "

"Anything you would tell would be well worth any diplomat's hearing, "said he; "only I shall always prefer to be the diplomat on duty when youare doing the telling!"

"That's deliciously nice, Mr. Harleston; I--"

"Where are you now?" he demanded. 

"At the Chateau--in my apartment. Anything more?"

"Nothing; except to pray you to be prudent and not do it again. "

"I'll promise--until I see you. " She lowered her voice--"Are you there, Mr. Harleston?"

"I'm here--since I can't be with you there, " he replied. 

"Assuredly not! I'm not exactly in receiving attire. Meanwhile themorning--and Madame Brunette's doings. Good-night, _Mon camarade_. "

XIX

MARSTON

At nine o'clock the next morning, Marston tapped gently on the door ofMadeline Spencer's apartment, and was immediately admitted by the demuremaid; who greeted him with a smile, which he repaid with a kiss--severalof them, indeed--and an affectionate and pressing arm to her shapely andslender waist. 

"I suppose monsieur wants to see my mistress, " said she. 

"Now that I've seen you, yes, little one, " Marston returned, withanother kiss. 

"Have you seen me, monsieur?"

"Not half long enough, my love; but business before pleasure. There'sanother now, so run along and do your devoir. "

She fetched him a tiny slap across his cheek, for which she was caughtand made to suffer again; then she wriggled loose, and, with a flirtybackward kick at him, disappeared through the inner doorway. 

In a moment she returned, dropped him a bit of curtsy, and informed himthat her mistress would receive him. 

He rewarded her with another caress, which she accepted with assumedshyness--and a wicked little pinch. 

"I'll pay you later for the pinch!" he tossed back, softly. 

She answered with an affected shrug and a wink. 

"Elise _is_ remarkably pretty!" Madeline Spencer remarked when heentered the boudoir. She was sitting up in bed, eating her rolls andcoffee--a bewildering negligee of cerise and cream heightening theeffect of her dead-white colouring and raven-black hair. 

Marston drew in his breath sharply, then sighed. 

"And _you_ are ravishingly beautiful, my lady, " he replied. 

"You like this robe?" she asked. 

"I--like you; what you may wear is incidental. It merely increases theeffect of your wonderful personality. "

"My good Marston!" she smiled. "What a faithful friend you are; alwaysseeing my few good points and being blind to my many bad. "

"And being always, " he added, bowing low, "your most humble and lovingservant. "

"I know it--and I am very, very grateful. " She put aside the tray andlanguidly stretched her lithe length under the sheet. "What have you toreport, Marston?" she asked. 

"I have to report, madame, " said Marston, with strict formality of asubordinate to his chief, "that I have procured the French code-book. "

"Good work!" she exclaimed, sitting up sharply. "However did you manageit?"

"By the assistance of one Jimmy-the-Snake. He visited the French Embassylast night, and persuaded the safe to yield up the code. It would havebeen better, I admit, to copy the code and then replace it, but itwasn't possible. He had just sufficient time to grab the book and make aget-away. Someone was coming. "

"You've accomplished enough even though we don't obtain the letter" sheapproved. "I shall recommend you for promotion, Marston. "

She took the thin book and glanced through it until she came to thekey-words of the Blocked-Out Square--the last key-word was the one theCount de M---- had given her. After all, the Count was not so bad; andhe was handsome; thus far dependable; and he was, seemingly at least, inlove with her. She might do worse.... Yet he was not Harleston; therenever was but one equal to Harleston, and that one was lost to her. Sheshut her lips tightly and a far-away look came into her eyes. And nowHarleston, too, was lost to her; and--she lifted her hands resignedly, and laughed a mirthless laugh. As she came back to reality, she metMarston's curiously courteous glance with a bit of a shrug. 

"Pardon my momentary abstraction, " she said softly; "I was pursuing atrain of thought--"

"And you didn't overtake it, " he remarked. 

"I can never overtake it. I haven't the requisite speed. Did you evermiss your two greatest opportunities, Marston?"

"I've missed my greatest, " Marston replied instantly. "Oh--it was out ofmy class, so I never started. "

"It may have been a mistake, my friend, " she observed; "one never cantell until he's tried it--and failed. I mightn't have missed had I goneon another schedule. However, the past is to profit by, and to forgetif we can't remember it pleasantly. So let us return to the business inhand, Marston; it's a rattling business and a fascinating, and at it youand I are not to be altogether despised, " throwing him a bewitchingsmile. 

"Don't!" he exclaimed. "I'm not stone. "

"Forgive me, my friend!" putting out her hand to him. 

Marston simply bowed, "I think it wiser to refrain, " he said gently, andbowed again. "By all means let us to the business in hand. "

He understood her nature better than she thought. The sympathy in herwas, for the moment, real enough, but it was only for the moment; thelove of admiration was the controlling note--what she sought and whatshe played for. She felt the sympathy while it lasted, but it was theeffect as to herself, the selfish effect, that inspired the sensation. When a beautiful woman stoops to sympathy, it is rare indeed that shedoes not thereby arouse admiration for herself. Madeline Spencer mayhave been cold and shrewd and selfish and calculating, yet with it allshe was warm-hearted; but the warm heart never got away with the coolhead--unless it was with that head's permission and for its benefit. Sheplayed men--and men played her--but the man that had won was not yet tobe found. Two only of those whom she tried had failed to succumb to herfascinating alluringness--and these two she had loved, and still didboth love and hate. 

"Returning then to the code-book and the letter, " said she. "How aboutthe latter; have you found Carpenter susceptible to persuasion?"

"To persuasion, no; to exchange, yes. Our agreement is that if I providethe key-word, he will provide the letter in question. At ten o'clockthis morning the trick is to be turned. "

"And if the translation concerns the United States, he simply would turnthe key upon you and hold you prisoner until the matter is cleared up. "

"One must take some risks, " Marston observed. 

She nodded slightly. 

"Which of these do you fancy is the key-word?" she asked. 

"We shall try them in turn, beginning with the last: _à l'aube du jour_. I've a hunch that we'll end there. "

"And that you'll go into temporary confinement?" she smiled. 

"My hunch stops with the key-word!" he smiled back. 

"Your hunch as to the key-word is partially correct, " she repliedslowly, "but it does not, however, reach quite to the last conclusion. Imay not explain now, Marston. Do you go to the meeting, with thecode-book as your only exhibit. It should be indisputable proof of yourgood faith, and our honest belief that the letter does not concern theUnited States. Moreover, you run no danger of imprisonment, for you'llnot effect a translation. But you must obtain a copy of the letter; it'sbut a fair exchange for the French code, you know; and you'repermitted--nay you're authorized, in the interest of the service--toallow Carpenter to copy the book if he will give you the letter to copy. Furthermore, you may proceed leisurely in the process; there is noparticular haste; while they are occupied with the letter matter, thereis apt to be less activity along other lines. Only get a _copy of theletter_; I have the key-word. "

"You have the key-word!" Marston exclaimed. 

She nodded. "I'm quite sure of it; and the code-book confirms me. It isup to you to procure the letter; I'll do the rest, if any rest isnecessary. We may be headed for Europe by evening, Marston; in whichevent, the cipher letter is of no consequence to us. "

"You'll be glad to get back to Paris?" he asked. 

"I shall, indeed--won't you?"

"I'm quite content anywhere, so long as I am working with you, " heanswered. It was much as a faithful dog would wag his tail and snuggleup for a pat of the hand. 

She smiled straight into his eyes--a frank, appreciative smile, asthough an intimate camaraderie existed between them, and would never beviolated by either. She would have been in danger had she smiled thatway at some men; they would not have remained quiescent. And a littlemore aggression by Marston might have been more conducive forsuccess--less of the faithful dog and more of the independentsubordinate and the equal human. As it was, he was only a plaything. 

"Now, my friend, if you're done you may go, " she said briskly. "I mustdress, and you're rather _de trop_ at such a time, however much you maybe welcome at another. And, Marston, don't miss the copy of the letter;I'll expect you with it at seven; we'll make the translation together, either here or on the train to New York. You're to accompany me, youknow. I've an appointment at one, and another at four, but I'll be hereat seven. If I'm detained, wait. "

When Marston had gone she turned over and composed herself for sleep--itwas two hours until she had need to array herself for luncheon andSnodgrass.... Yes, Snodgrass was a very good-looking chap; her drivewith him last night had been very satisfactory; he had the requisitewealth, so it might be just as well to let him become fascinated. Itwould be at least a momentary diversion; something to occupy her for theloss of Harleston. She closed her eyes--and shivered ever so little. Damn Mrs. Clephane! But for her she would not have lost him. 

She flung off the cover and sprang up. There was a chance left and shewould try it. If it failed, she would not lose more than she had alreadylost. If it won, she won Harleston!

XX

PLAYING THE GAME

She threw a kimono around her and hastened to the telephone. 

"Get me, " she said to the hotel central, "Mr. Harleston at theCollingwood, the Cosmopolitan Club, or the State Department. "

"I'll call you, " said the operator--and Madeline Spencer leaned back inher chair and waited. 

Presently the call came. 

"I have Mr. Harleston for you, " said the operator and switched on thetrunk. 

"Where are you, Guy?--this is Madeline Spencer, " said she. 

"I'm at the Collingwood, Madeline. Anything I can do for you?" was theanswer. 

"Yes. Be here in an hour; I must see you. "

"Important?"

"Yes. "

"Then I'll be there at ten-thirty. "

"You're always good!" said she softly. 

"Not always, " he laughed, "but I will be this time. "

She dressed in feverish haste, yet with great care and attention toeffects. Her gown was a lustreless black silk, trimmed with gold andmade as plain as her modiste would--and the styles permitted. Her hairwas piled high, with an elongated twist; her dead-white complexion wasunmarred by powder or rouge, and beneath the transparent skin the bloodpulsed softly pink. 

Her toilet finished, and passed upon in the mirror, she sent her maid ona shopping expedition which would occupy her until noon, and evenhurried her off. She wanted no one about, not even Elise, when she madeher last play at Harleston. 

Elise gone five minutes before the hour, she compelled herself tooutward tranquillity--while she strove for inward calm. And succeedingwonderfully well--so well, indeed, that none would ever have suspectedthe agitation seething under the cold placidity. Its only evidence wasin the gentle swing of her narrow foot, and the nervous play of herslender fingers. And even these indications disappeared at the knock onthe corridor door; and she went almost blithely and flung it back--toHarleston bowing on the threshold. 

"Punctual as usual!" she greeted. 

"Because I came to one who is always punctual, " he replied, taking herhand, nor dropping it until they were well inside the reception room. 

"Sit down, old enemy, " said she, sinking into a chair and pointing toanother--which she had been careful to place just within reach. "You'venothing much to do for a short while, have you?"

"I've nothing much to do any time except to keep an eye on you!" helaughed. 

"Am I so difficult?" she asked. 

"You keep me fairly occupied at all times--and sometimes rather more. "

"At least I endeavour not to offend your eye!" she smiled, her head onher hand, her eyes on him. 

"The only difficulty is that you are too alluring, " he returned. "One isprone to forget that his business is not to admire but to observedispassionately and to block your plans. You're much too beautiful, Madeline; you usually make monkeys of all of us, and while we're heldfascinated by your loveliness you scoop the prize. It's not fair, mylady; you play with--loaded dice. "

"Flatterer!" she said, melting into another pose. 

"Flatterer!" he exclaimed. "If you could but see yourself now, you wouldconfess the truth of the indictment. You're the loveliest thing, and yougrow lovelier every day and younger. Positively, Madeline, you're a--"he paused for words and raised his hands helplessly. 

"I'm a what?" she murmured, leaning a bit toward him. 

"I haven't the word; there isn't one adequate to the--subject. "

"You actually mean that?" she asked, gliding into another posture, evenmore alluring. 

"You know I mean it, " he declared. "Haven't we agreed to be honest witheach other?"

"I've been honest!" she answered. 

"Meaning that I've not been?"

"Have you?" she inflected, "I wonder, Guy. "

She might just as well have asked direct his feeling for Mrs. Clephane--and he understood perfectly the question. 

He nodded, slowly but none-the-less definitely. 

She took a cigarette and lighted it with careful attention, then blewthe smoke sharply against the incandescent coal. 

"Guy, " said she, "I'm about to speak plainly; please don'tmisunderstand; I'm simply a woman, now--a weak woman, perhaps; it willbe for you to judge me at the end. " She smiled faintly. 

"Not a weak woman, Madeline, " he replied. "Your worst enemy would notventure to call you that. "

He wondered what more was coming, and at what directed. Her tone andattitude and deprecation of self were new to him. He had never seen herso; always she was the embodification of calm, self-reliance, poise, never flustered, never disturbed. A weak woman! It was so absurd as tobe ridiculous, and she was aware of it. So what was the play with sobald a notice to beware?

"No, no, Guy, " said she. "You think it's a play, but it isn't. It's thesimple truth I'm about to tell you, and as truth I pray you take it. "

"I'll take it as you wish it taken, " he responded, more than evermystified. 

She carefully laid her cigarette on the receiver, then arose and leanedagainst the table, her hands behind her. He arose also, but shedeclined the courtesy. 

"Keep your seat, " she said, "and don't be alarmed, I'm not preparing tohave you daggered or garroted. Entirely the reverse, Guy. I've decidedto offer terms: to capitulate; to throw the whole thing over; to betraymy mission and get out of the service forever. No, don't smileincredulously, I mean it. "

"Good Lord!" thought Harleston. "What is coming and where do we go?"What he said, however, was:

"Wouldn't you be incredulous if our positions were reversed? MadelineSpencer, the very Queen of the Service, betray her trust? Impossible!"

"Thank you, Guy, " said she. "I've never yet been false to the hand thatpaid me--and sometimes _I've_ paid dearly for keeping faith. Now for thefirst time, --and the last time, too, for if successful the service willknow me no longer--I am ready and willing deliberately to make a failureof my mission, if you will take that failure as conclusive evidence ofmy good faith. " She bent a bit forward and threw into her words andtones and attitude every grace that she possessed. "Will you do it, Guy?"

"When you ask that way, " said Harleston, "who of mankind would refuseyou anything on earth. "

She was alluring, wonderfully alluring. Time was, and that lately, whenhe would have succumbed. But that time was no longer; beside theraven-hair and dead-white cheek was now another face, with peach-blowcheek and the ruddy tresses--and the peach-blow cheek and ruddy tressesprevailed. And so he had responded, sincere enough, in tribute to herloveliness and in memory of what had been. 

And Madeline Spencer detected the absent note; but she ignored it. Shewould go through with it--make her bid:

"Almost you say that as though you meant it!" she smiled, and forced hishand. Now he must either deny or affirm. 

"I do mean it, " he replied. It was all in the game, and he was obligatedto be truthful only to Mrs. Clephane. 

She looked at him contemplatively, trying to read behind his words. 

"What is it, Madeline?" he asked. 

"I wonder!" she said speculatively. 

"Can't I answer?"

"Yes, you can answer--"

"Then ask me, " he invited, seeking to get something that would affordhim an inkling of her aim. Assuredly she had him guessing. 

For a moment she looked him straight in the eyes; then suddenly herglance wavered, a faint flush crept from neck to cheek, and she smiledalmost bashfully. 

"Guy, " said she, "I ask you to forget our profession if you can, andtake what I am about to say as free from guile or expediency--and ofsupreme importance to me. I'm just a simple woman now, with a woman'sdesires and affection and hopes. I've come to the parting of the ways:on one side lie power, excitement, loneliness; on the other, contentment, peace, companionship. I'll choose the latter, if you'rewilling. You have but to say the word and I'll give up everything, confess what I'm here for, what I've done, and what is arranged for inthe future. "

"Upon what condition, Madeline?" he smiled, more puzzled than ever. Hewas almost ready to believe she meant it. 

She caught her breath, hesitated, blushed furiously--and answeredsoftly:

"Upon the condition that you marry me. "

For the instant Harleston was too amazed for words; and, despite all histraining in dissimulation, his surprise was evidenced in his face. Smallwonder he had been unable to make out the play--it was not a play; shemeant it. She was ready to throw her mission overboard to attain herpersonal end. 

"Will you marry me, old enemy?" she whispered, putting out her hand tohim and smiting him with a ravishing smile--a smile such as she had hadfor but one other man. It had been utterly lost on that other, but ithad almost won with Harleston; and it might have won now with him butfor another's smile, she of the ruddy tresses and peach-blow cheek. 

"My dear Madeline, " said he slowly, holding her hand with intimatepressure, "I cannot permit you to betray yourself for me. You are--"

"Quite old enough in the ways of the world, " she interjected, "to knowmy own mind. I love you, Guy, and unless I've mistaken your attitude, you love me. When our minds meet in such a matter, why should anythingbe permitted to intervene?" Her hand still lay in his; her eyes heldhis; her personality fairly enveloped them. With lips a little parted, she bent toward him. "It's a bit unusual, dear, for the woman topropose, to the man, but we are an unusual two, and the business of lifehas shaken us free from the conventions of the drawing-room and frothysociety. With us there need be no cant nor pretence nor false modesty, because there is not the slightest possibility of misunderstanding. "

"And yet, Madeline, we may not defy the right and permit you tosacrifice yourself, " he opposed. "There is a standard which neither cantnor pretence nor false modesty can affect--the standard of honour. "

"Honour!" she inflected. "What is honour, such honour, when a womanloves. "

"Nothing--and therefore must the love abide; honour can't abide once itis lost. "

She shook her head sadly. "I'm afraid it's not so much my honour as yourlove, " she said. "A week ago, and I would have had a differentanswer--in fact, I would have been the one to answer and _you_ the oneto ask. You know it quite as well as I; for when you left me thatafternoon in Paris, expecting to return in the evening, you were readyto speak and I was ready with the answer. Then fate, in the person of anunsympathetic Foreign Office intervened, and sent you on the instant toSt. Petersburg. We never met again until in this hotel. I have notchanged, but you have. I fear your answer does not ring quite true; itisn't like you. Why is it, Guy?"

Never a reference to Mrs. Clephane; never an intimation--and yet Mrs. Clephane might as well have been in the room, so living was herpresence. 

"Madeline, " said he, lingeringly freeing her hand, "I hardly know whatto say nor how to say it. I'm embarrassed, frightfully embarrassed; yetyou have been frank with me so I must be frank with you--even though ithurts. I'm distressed to have been such a bungler, such a miserablebungler, such a blind fool, indeed. The false impression must be due tome; assuredly, without the most justifiable cause you would not havedrawn the erroneous inference. And a man who is responsible for thatinference with a woman of your experience and ability, Madeline, mustbe more or less a fool, even though his intentions have been absolutelycorrect. "

"Which leads where, Guy?" she mocked. 

"Nowhere, " he replied, "I'm trying to say something, and can't say it. But you know what it is, Madeline. I'm sorry, supremely sorry. Let usforget this little talk, and go on as though it hadn't occurred--playingour parts in the present game and besting the other by every means inour power. I can't accept your offer, because I cannot pay theconsideration. It still must be _à outrance_ with us, Madeline; noquarter given and no quarter asked. "

For a space she looked at him with cold repellence, eyes black as night. Then her eyes narrowed and she laughed, a mirthlessly sarcastic laugh, so low that Harleston barely heard it. 

"Is red hair then prettier than black, Mr. Harleston?" she askedmockingly; "or is Mrs. Clephane's character whiter than mine?"

"That is not worthy of you, Madeline, " Harleston reproved. "You're agood sport; hitherto you've taken the count, as well as given it, without the flutter of an eyelash--and over far more serious mattersthan your humble servant, who hasn't anything to give him value. "

Again the sarcastic laugh. She knew he was playing the game, two gamesindeed, the diplomatic and his own. He had never forgot himself norregarded her for one little instant. 

"As a lecturer on morals, Mr. Harleston, you are a wonder, " she mocked;"you have almost succeeded--nay quite, shall I say--in convincingyourself. And when you--a man--do that, what is to be expected of awoman--who is alone in the world? So I must accept your argument, andyour conclusions, and be content with my duty--and"--with a suddenravishing smile--"if I best you, Guy, you will have only yourself toblame. I won't send Mrs. Clephane a present, nor will I wish you joy ofher, nor her of you; but _you_ won't look for it, and _she_ would thinkit somewhat presumptuous in me to assume to know you. These red-headedwomen are the very devil, Guy, after they've got you landed--alsobefore, but in a different way. "

"What's your game, Madeline?" he smiled. It had pleased her suddenly toveer around and resume the play; and far be it from him to balk her. "I'll admit you have me guessing. "

"I thought you believed me, Guy. My game was you--and I've lost. "

"Nonsense!" he replied. "I was inclined to think so at first; your fineacting and man's conceit, I reckon. But my conceit has been punctured, and you've slipped a bit in your acting; therefore, to descend to theextremely common-place, the jig is up. "

"And the next lead is yours!" she laughed back. 

"That is precisely why I asked you the game--so I could make anintelligible lead. "

"Ask Mrs. Clephane!" she suggested. 

"I'll do it, " said he--and bowed himself out. 

"Do it? Of course, you'll do it, " Madeline Spencer gritted, as the doorclosed behind him. "I've no chance, it seems, against a red-hairedwoman. The other one also had red hair. " She seized a vase from thetable at her hand, and hurled it across the room. It crushed infragments against the wall. "Damn Mrs. Clephane!" she said softly. 

XXI

THE KEY-WORD

Promptly at ten o'clock Marston walked into Carpenter's office and sentin his card. 

It found Carpenter pacing up and down, and frowning at a paper spreadopen on his desk. At the messenger's apologetically discreet cough, heglanced around and took the extended card. 

"Show him in!" he snapped, and swept the paper from the desk and into adrawer.... "Good-morning, sir!" as Marston bowed on the threshold; then, without any preliminaries: "What success?"

"I have the French code-book, " Marston replied. 

"With you?"

Marston drew out the slender book. "It embraces all their codes, Ibelieve, " he remarked. 

"H-u-m!" said Carpenter thoughtfully, retrieving the paper he had justswept into the drawer. "How are we to work it, Mr. Marston?"

"As allies, " Marston replied. "I'm perfectly willing to let you have thebook and everything in it, if you will let me have a copy of the letter. I'm confident that the key-word is here; I'm equally confident that theletter does not involve, either directly or indirectly, the UnitedStates. I understand that the letter is in the cipher of the Blocked-OutSquare; in this book there are two pages and more of key-words to thisSquare, the last dozen or so of which are added in writing. If theletter is in that cipher, we should have no particular difficulty infinding the key-word. I would suggest, however, that we first try thelast word on the list--maybe we won't have to go any farther. "

"Very well, " said Carpenter, briskly. 

The advantage was all with him. If Marston thought the letter was only aline and that he could remember the letters used, he was in for a shock. No man living could remember twenty spilled alphabets; and if heattempted to make a copy it could easily be prevented. The FifthSecretary spread the paper on the table. 

"Here is a copy of the cipher letter in question--we had it made largefor convenience, " he explained. "The original is in the safe; you'll wishto compare it with the copy, so we'll have it here. "

He gave the necessary order; when the letter was brought he passed it toMarston. 

"I'll read the copy, if you'll hold the original, " he said; andproceeded to call off the letters with amazing rapidity. "Correct, isn'tit?" as he ended. 

"Yes!" said Marston returning the original to Carpenter. He wanted inevery way to disarm suspicion; moreover, a copy could be made morereadily from a large typewritten edition than from the small, writtenoriginal. "Now for the code-book and the last key-word--_à l'aube dujour_, I think it is ... Yes, _à l'aube du jour_, it is, " and he handedthe book across. "Shall we try it first, Mr. Carpenter?"

"By all means, " said Carpenter. "Shall I set it down, or will you?"

One would never have imagined from his expression or his intonation thathe had already tried _à l'aube du jour_ for the key-word and failed;nor that why he had failed he now knew. The book was right as to theword, and the slip that Harleston had taken from Crenshaw's pocket-bookconfirmed it. _À l'aube du jour_ was not the key-word but the key-wordwas constructed from it by some arbitrary rule; and that rule wassusceptible of solution. After he was free of this fellow Marston, hewould solve the problem quickly enough. It was as sure as tomorrow. Theprescience was come. 

"About twenty letters should be enough for experiment?" he suggested, taking up a test card. 

When he had written the key-word and the letters under it, he, scarcelywithout reference to the Blocked-Out Square, wrote the translation. Marston did the same, very much slower. 

"It doesn't fit!" Marston announced. "You can't make anything out ofAGELUMTONZN, and so forth. "

"I can't!" Carpenter smiled--and waited. Would Marston suggest thetransposed or elided word?

"I'm disappointed, " Marston confessed, "I thought sure we had it. Let'stry the next key-word in the book. "

They tried it, and the next, and all the rest. None of them translatedthe letter. 

It took more than an hour; at the end, as a full measure of good faithand because it was of no further use to him--he having preserved acopy--Marston insisted that Carpenter retain the original of the Frenchcode-book and have a copy made, after which the book could be returnedto him at the Chateau. During this hour and more his hand was in and outin his side coat-pocket. When he left the room there went with him, inthat pocket, a copy of the original letter--roughly made by the sense oftouch alone, yet none the less a copy and sufficiently distinct to bedecipherable. For years Marston had practised writing in the dark andunder all sorts of handicaps. In his pocket, a number of small slips ofpaper and a pencil were concealed. He would write a line, then take hishand from his pocket; after a time he would shift the page of paper, write another line, and then another, and so on until the copy was made. And all the while he was so frankly communicative, with apparently notthe slightest intent to obtaining a copy--even tearing up the paper onwhich were the various trial translations--that he completely deceivedCarpenter. When he left, the latter went with him to the elevator andbowed him down. 

"I don't quite understand their game, " Carpenter chuckled, as he turnedaway, "but it's no matter. I took all the tricks this morning and stillhave a few trumps left. I thought he certainly would try for a copy ofthe letter, but he didn't even attempt it. He may have committed it tomemory, but I'll chance it. "

Returning to his office he gave the code-book another careful inspectionand confirmed his impression as to its being authentic. Then he laid itaside, and took up the letter and _à l'aube du jour_!

First he tried it in reverse position: _ruoj ud ebua'l à_. Thetranslation was gibberish. Then he wrote the first and last letters, thesecond and next to last, the third and the third from last, and so on. The result, too, was gibberish. Next he dropped the first word, 'à' andtried the rest--still gibberish. He dropped also the 'l'--stillgibberish. Then, in turn, the 'a' of the third word the 'd' of thefourth, the 'j' of the last word--all gibberish. Next he wrote thekey-word entire but transposed the 'a' from the first letter to thelast--still gibberish. He began with the _aube_--still gibberish. 

"Damn!" said he. 

He was persuaded that the key-word was in the sentence before him; thecode-book, Crenshaw's slip of paper, and his own hunch were convincing, yet the combination was slow in coming. 

_Du jour à l'aube_ was the next arrangement. He wrote it under theprinted words and began to apply the Square. 

The D and the A yielded A; the U and the B yielded V; the J and the Cyielded E; the O and the D yielded R; the U and the E yielded T; the Rand the F yielded I. 

"_Averti!_"

Carpenter gave a soft whistle of satisfaction. French, it was--his hunchhad not deceived him. The key-word was found!

Swiftly he worked out the rest of the cipher, setting down the lettersof the translation without regard to words. "_Averti_" was evidentbecause it was the first word. At the end, he had this result:

 AVERTIQUELALLEMAGNEAENGAG EUNOFFICIERADECELERLAFORM ULESECRETEDESETATSUNISEMP LOYEEACOLLODONNIERLAFULMI COTONPOURLAPOUDRESANSFUME EALARTILLERIEDEGROSCALIBR EETQUEMADELINESPENCEREMIS SAIREDELALLEMAGNEAPARISPH OTOGRAPHIECIINCLUSEAETECH ARGEEDELARECEVOIRNESEPEUT DECOUVRIRLENOMDUTRAITRESP ENCERESTPARTIEPOURNEWYORK SURLALUSITANIAQUIDOITARRI VERLEQUATORZEATOUTEFORCEI NTERCEPTEZLAFORMULEOUEMPE CHEZAMOINSQUELALLEMAGNENE LOBTIENNESPENCERSIMPORTAN TEALAFRANCE

There was not the least doubt as to it being in French--the last threewords, as well as the first, proved it; also that he had the correctkey-word. It only remained now to separate the result into words. Andthis puzzle presented no difficulties to Carpenter; he quicklymarshalled it into form:

"_Averti que l'Allemagne a engagé un officier à déceler la formulesécrète des États-Unis employée à collodonnier la fulmi-coton pour lapoudre sans fumeée à l'artillerie de gros calibre; et que MadelineSpencer, émissaire de l'Allemagne à Paris, --photographiè ci, incluse--aété de chargée la recevoir. Ne se peut découvrir le nom du traître. Spencer est partie pour New York sur la Lusitania qui doit arriver lequatorze. À toute force interceptez la formule; ou empêchez à moins quel'Allemagne ne l'obtienne. Spencer pas importante à la France. _"

And under it he wrote the English translation: "Informed Germany hasinduced an officer to betray United States secret formula for collodingprocess of treating gun-cotton for smokeless powder for high power guns, and that Madeline Spencer, a German Secret agent in Paris, photographenclosed herein, is delegated to receive same. Cannot ascertain name oftraitor. Spencer sailed Lusitania, due New York, fourteenth. Take anymeans to intercept formula; or at least to prevent Germany obtaining it. Spencer not essential to France. "

_Spencer not essential to France!_ Surely this woman had great power, either of knowledge or of friends; she resided in Paris, yet France wasreluctant to lift hand against her so long as she was on French soil. Well, he would turn the matter over to Harleston; let him decide whetherit was to be thumbs up or thumbs down for her Alluringness. Furthermore, the meeting with Snodgrass now assumed much significance. Snodgrass wasan ex-army officer. Harleston must be warned at once. 

He tried for him at the Collingwood, the Cosmopolitan, the Rataplan, andfinally at the Chateau. He got him there. 

"Can you come here at once?" he asked. 

"Not well, " said Harleston, "I've an appointment. "

"Forget it!" Carpenter exclaimed. "I've found the key-word and made thetranslation. It's serious--Very well, come right in; I'll be waiting. "

Harleston scribbled a note to Mrs. Clephane and sent it up by a page; hewould be back in half an hour; would she meet him in the Alley. 

XXII

THE RATAPLAN

A moment before Harleston's return, Madeline Spencer, stepping out ofthe F Street elevator, was met by Snodgrass who had been walking up anddown the lobby. They took a taxi and sped away; followed closely byanother taxi, which their driver was most careful not to distance. Asecond later Harleston entered the corridor. As he was about to greetMrs. Clephane, a man approached him and said:

"They have started, sir; Burke's just behind in a taxi--and both driversare wise. They're bound for the Rataplan. "

"Follow them and wait just outside, " Harleston ordered--and turned toMrs. Clephane. "I must go to the Rataplan at once, " said he. "Let uslunch there. The end of the affair of the cab of the sleeping horse isin sight; I thought you might like to see it. "

"I want to see it!" Mrs. Clephane exclaimed. "Have you found thekey-word?"

"Carpenter found it--I'll tell you about it on the way out. Come along, little lady. "

 * * * * *

"But why do you suspect Captain Snodgrass?" she inquired, when Harlestonhad finished his account. "He would not have access to the formula, would he?"

"The man that has access to such secrets never is the man who actuallydelivers, " he explained; "he has a confederate. Snodgrass is theconfederate, we think. "

"Is this secret colloding process of gun-cotton so tremendouslyvaluable?" she asked. 

"It's a secret for which any nation would give millions of dollars. It'sadmittedly the most powerful explosive ever discovered, as well as theeasiest handled. Temperature, weather, ordinary shock have absolutely noeffect on it; in fire it simply chars and doesn't explode. Yet when itis exploded by the proper method, lyddite, dynamite, and all the otherites, are as a gentle zephyr in comparison. Now tell me about lastnight; where were you?"

"After you left, " she explained, "I wrote some letters, and then wentinto the corridor to drop them in the chute beside the elevator shaft;as I approached, the car came down with Mrs. Spencer in it. Somethingimpelled me to follow her; and running back I grabbed a cloak, anddashed for the elevator, catching it on the fly. She wasn't in the maincorridor; on a chance, I hurried to the F Street entrance; I got therejust as she stepped into a taxi and shot away. Instantly I calledanother taxi and told the driver to follow the car that had justdeparted. He did for a little way; but in a sudden halt of traffic atVermont Avenue and H Street, where, you may remember, the street is tornup, we lost the other taxi; and though we drove around the north-westsection for more than an hour on the chance that we'd come up withit--my driver knew the other driver--we never did come up with it. Butas we rolled up to the Chateau, Mrs. Spencer was alighting from alimousine with a tall, fine-looking, fair-haired chap who had the walkof a military man. "

"Snodgrass, " Harleston observed. 

"She saw me; and, with a maliciously charming smile, nodded and wenton. In the corridor I came on some friends and we talked awhile. Then Iwent up to my apartment, got your message, and telephoned to you. "

"Don't do it again, " he cautioned. "It was very dangerous. "

They turned in at the Rataplan and drew up at the carriage entrance. Harleston helped Mrs. Clephane from the taxi and they passed into theClub-House. 

He inquired of the doorman whether Mr. Carpenter was in, and anotherservant, who overheard the question, added that Mr. Carpenter was in thedining-room. Harleston and Mrs. Clephane went directly in and to a tablenext to Carpenter's. Three tables away were Madeline Spencer andSnodgrass. 

Harleston nodded to Mrs. Spencer and to Snodgrass, then spoke toCarpenter and invited him over. 

"I don't know if you will remember me, Mrs. Clephane, " said Carpenter, coming across. "I met you several years ago in Paris. "

"Yes, indeed, Mr. Carpenter, I remember you!" Mrs. Clephane replied. 

"Anything?" Harleston asked, without moving his lips. 

"Nothing. I was here when they arrived, " Carpenter replied in the samemanner--and went back to his table. 

"Who is the woman with Harleston?" Snodgrass asked Mrs. Spencer. "I'venever seen her. "

"A Mrs. Clephane, " Madeline Spencer replied. "She's very good-looking, isn't she?"

"I'm perfectly satisfied with the lady immediately in my fore, " hesmiled. "I don't run to blondes--"

"When you're with a brunette!" she smiled back. 

"I don't run to anyone when I'm with you, " he replied with quietearnestness, leaning toward her across the table. 

She shot him a knowing glance. Last night she had held him to strictpropriety. Today in the taxi she had deliberately set herself tofascinate him, and had succeeded well. She had been demurelytantalizing--holding him at a distance, letting him come a littlenearer, bringing him up sharply; all the tricks of the trade executedwith a perfection of technic and a mastery of effect. Snodgrass, withall his experience, was but a novice in her hands; she always struckdirectly at the affections--got them: and then the rest was easy. Shenever lost her head, nor allowed her own affections to become involved;save only twice--and both those times she had failed. Snodgrass, she hadlearned through inquiries, had quite sufficient money to make him worthher while; moreover, he was such a big, good-natured, dependablechap--and a gentleman. If he had not been a gentleman he would not haveattracted Madeline Spencer for an instant. She dealt only in gentlemen. 

She had not told Snodgrass of the Clephane letter, nor anything as toHarleston except to refer casually to him as the confidential emissaryin delicate matters of the State Department. She had found thatSnodgrass was not the actual man in the case; that he was simply afriendly confederate, or rather, to use his own words, "a friend ofDavidson. " She had expected that the package or letter would bedelivered to her in the taxi; but Snodgrass had told her as soon as theywere started that Davidson would forward it to him at the Rataplan bymail, not later than the two o'clock delivery. He would get it as theywere leaving and transfer it to her, accepting the consideration asspecified by Davidson, and receipting for it. He said flatly that he didnot want to know the contents of the letter; he was doing this favourfor Davidson. He understood that it was to be entirely _sub rosa_ andthat nothing must ever transpire as to it. Therefore he was prepared toforget the entire episode the moment it was over; the epochal meetingswith her he would not forget, nor would he permit her to forget him ifconstant devotion and assiduous attention were of avail. To which shehad made a most demurely fitting answer, and the conversation thereaftergrew exceedingly confidential. Oh, they were getting on very well indeedwhen the Rataplan was reached. And they were still progressing verywell--in a discreetly informal way. 

The entrance of Mrs. Clephane and Harleston was unexpected to Mrs. Spencer; Carpenter was a stranger to her and she had thought nothing ofhim; but when he spoke to Harleston, and seemed to know Mrs. Clephane, she put him on the list of the enemy. She kept him there when Snodgrasstold her his name and position in the Diplomatic Service and that itwas reputed there was no cipher too difficult for him to solve. 

"We would better be very circumspect, " she said low. "I think that thesetwo men are here to watch us; they know that I'm in the Secret Service, of Germany, and they're naturally suspicious of me. "

"Carpenter was here when we came in, " Snodgrass remarked. "He wassitting in the lobby. However, if you prefer, I'll let my mail go untilevening. "

"We can decide when we're through luncheon, " she replied. "Haste is ofvital importance, my instructions say. I had hoped to get away on themidnight train for New York, and to sail tomorrow for England. "

"I had hoped to do the same!" he whispered. 

"Really?" she asked. 

"More than really! May I?" leaning forward. 

"If you care to, Captain Snodgrass. It will be very pleasant to have youon board. "

"And afterward?"

"You may not care for the afterward, " she murmured. 

"I'll risk it!" he exclaimed. "We'll sail tomorrow. "

"And the letter?" she asked. 

"I'll get it for you--or have it along!"

"What about the consideration?"

"Hang the consideration. I'll pay it myself, if need be. "

"No, no, my friend!" she laughed. "I'm not worth so much, nor anythingnear it. And even though I were, I'd not permit the wastefulextravagance. "

She might have added that she had no objection whatever to his wastefulextravagance, in fact, she would rather encourage it, if she were itsobject. Only that must come later--after the present business wasfinished, and they had sailed from New York. How long the extravagancewould continue was dependent on the depth of his purse and hisdisposition. 

"Wasteful extravagance does not apply where you are concerned, " hereplied. "However, we'll let Germany pay the consideration, and I'llhave that much more to spend on you. "

She rewarded him with one of her alluringly ravishing smiles and a touchof her slender foot. She had him--and she knew she had him. She wouldbe Madeline Spencer once again--always having a victim, and always readyfor a fresh one. Since she had failed with Harleston, what mattered ithow many the victims, or what the price they paid. 

XXIII

CAUGHT

"Mrs. Spencer and her friend have reached some sort of anunderstanding, " Mrs. Clephane remarked. "She just smiled at himsignificantly and pressed his foot. "

"I noticed the smile but not the foot business, " Harleston chuckled. "It's something quite personal to them, I take it!"

"Exactly; but what's the effect on the matter in hand? Does not this_personal_ understanding signify that the delivery of the formula hasbeen arranged, maybe even effected. "

Harleston nodded. With Madeline Spencer it was, he knew, business firstand personal matters afterward. 

"I think we shall see the end of the affair of your cipher letter andits ramifications before the afternoon is over, " he replied. 

"What about the French Embassy?" she asked. 

"The Marquis has been advised that we have the translation. He will keephis hands off, you may believe. "

"You think either that Captain Snodgrass has the document in hispossession, or that he has given it to Mrs. Spencer?"

"Or that it will come into his possession before they leave theRataplan, and be transferred to her here or in the taxi on their wayback to town, " he added. 

"What if he transferred it to her on their way here?"

"Then she still has it--once she gets it in her possession she won'tpart with it, even in her sleep, until she places it in the hands of theofficial who sent her to America. "

"And Mr. Carpenter was here to watch until you came?"

"Yes--and afterward; you see one of us might be called away. From thetime she and Snodgrass met at the Chateau this morning, they have notbeen out of espionage and close espionage. So long as they are in ataxi, or at the Rataplan, there is no danger of the document gettingaway if either of them has it; but until we are certain that they haveit, we won't detain them; we want the document to aid us in running downthe traitor. I'm not at all sure that Snodgrass is aware of thecharacter of the document. He probably stipulated not to know; he willbe content with a division of the money--and with a chance to spend someof it on Spencer; which spending she is quite ready to facilitate, aswitness the pleasant understanding they seem to have arrived at duringluncheon. "

"What are you going to do, Mr. Harleston?" Mrs. Clephane asked. 

"I think you will enjoy it better if you're not wise, little lady!" hesmiled. "Moreover, it depends on circumstances just how it's to be goneabout--except that it ends in the office of the Secretary ofState. --Hush!"

"The Secretary of State!" she exclaimed low. 

"I've an appointment to take Mrs. Spencer to meet his Excellency at fouro'clock. "

"And what are you going to do with me, Mr. Harleston?" she smiled. 

"You mean at four o'clock, or permanently?"

"At four o'clock, sir, " with a charming lilt of the head. 

"Take you along. "

"With _that woman_? Thank you!"

"No, with me. "

"Didn't you say you had an appointment to take Mrs. Spencer?"

"I did!"

"You intend to keep the appointment?"

"I do!"

"Surely, sir, you don't imagine for a moment that I would go anywherewith Mrs. Spencer!"

"No more than you imagine that I would ask it of you!" he smiled. 

"It seems to me your meaning is somewhat obscure, " she retorted. "However, whether you don't mean it, or do mean it, I'll trust myself toyou because it's you, Mr. Harleston. "

"Permanently, my lady?"

"Certainly not, sir. I refer only to this afternoon; I want to be in atthe end of the game. "

"For me, " said Harleston slowly, "it's been a very fortunate game. "

"Games are uncertain and sometimes costly, " she shrugged. 

"When played with Spencer, they are both and then some, " he replied. 

At that moment Carpenter pushed back his chair and arose, noddedpleasantly to Mrs. Clephane and Harleston as he passed, and went out. 

"Will Mr. Carpenter be at the finish?" Mrs. Clephane asked. 

"Probably; but he'll be in the lobby when we go through. "

"They are going!" she whispered. "And they're coming this way. "

As Mrs. Spencer and Snodgrass went by, the former with an intimatelittle look at Harleston, said confidentially:

"I'll be ready at half-past three, Guy. "

"Very good!" Harleston answered promptly--when she was past, he lookedat Mrs. Clephane. 

"The cat!" she muttered; then smiled quizzically. "Such a pleasant airof proprietorship, " she observed. 

"Too pleasant, " he returned. "I've something to tell you as to it andher, when the present matter is ended. "

"Will it keep?"

He nodded. "I can tell it better then--and have more time for thetelling. "

The headwaiter approached casually, as though surveying the table. 

"Well!" said Harleston. 

"He went to the private mail boxes; she's waiting in the lobby, " the manreplied. "He received a small letter, which he opened; it enclosed onlyanother envelope, which he put in his pocket without opening. Hereturned to the lobby and they left the Club-House. "

Harleston nodded. "It's time for us to be moving, " said he to Mrs. Clephane. "Will you trust me?" he asked as they passed into the lobby, at the far end of which Carpenter was sitting absorbed in his cigar. 

"Absolutely!" she replied. 

"And will you go with Carpenter; he understands? I'll be with youshortly. I must act quickly now. "

Carpenter arose as they neared. 

"Just started, " said he, and bowed to Mrs. Clephane. 

"Mrs. Clephane understands, " Harleston explained "I confide her to yourcare. _À bientôt. _"

He hurried out. A taxi, waiting with power on, sped up; he sprangaboard and it raced away. 

As it neared the Connecticut Avenue bridge, the taxi slowed down atrifle and the driver half-faced around. 

"The other car is just ahead, sir, " he reported. 

"Very good, " said Harleston. "Does the driver know we're behind him?"

"I've signalled, sir, and he's answered. "

"Maintain the distance, " Harleston directed. 

"Yes sir, " said the man. 

Keeping about a hundred yards apart--the two cars sped down the hill andaround Dupont Circle to Massachusetts Avenue, thence by it and SixteenthStreet to H. The one in the lead continued on toward Fourteenth. Harleston's shot down Fifteenth, flashed over the tracks at PennsylvaniaAvenue, swung into F Street, and drew in at the Chateau just as theother came around the Fourteenth Street corner, and rolled slowly up tothe curb. 

As Snodgrass was assisting Madeline Spencer to alight--and taking histime about it--Harleston glanced at his watch, sprang from his car, andhastened over. 

"This is fortunate, Mrs. Spencer!" he exclaimed. "Just after you leftthe Rataplan the Secretary of State telephoned that he was summoned tothe White House at four, and I should bring you an hour earlier. On thechance of overtaking you, I beat it after you. Now if Captain Snodgrasswill permit you, we have just time to get over to the Department. "

"Will you excuse me, Captain Snodgrass?" she asked, with her compellingsmile. 

"A Secretary of State may not be denied, " Snodgrass replied. "In thisinstance in particular I would I were his Excellency. "

"Come and dine with me at eight, " giving him her hand.... "Now, Mr. Harleston, I am ready. "

"What did you do with Mrs. Clephane?" she asked, when they were started. 

"I left her at the Rataplan, " he replied. 

"Alone?"

"Oh no--with Carpenter, who chanced to be handy. "

"The bald-headed chap, who spoke to you in the dining-room?"

"Exactly!"

"Carpenter is the chief of the Cipher Division, I believe you said. "

"I don't recall that I said it, Madeline, but your information iscorrect. "

"I think I'll ask the Secretary for the letter, " she remarked. 

"Ask him anything you've a mind to!" Harleston laughed. "You've a verywinning pair of black eyes et cetera, my lady. "

"I've never seen the Secretary!" she smiled. 

"Small matter. He'll see you, all right. "

"I'll make an impression, you think?"

"If you don't, it will be the first failure of the sort you've everregistered. "

"Except with you, " she murmured. 

"Good Lord!" he exclaimed. "You've had me going many times. "

"Yes, Guy--but not now, " she whispered. 

"Now, I'm strong!" he laughed, bluntly declining the overture. 

"Hence you are willing that I try my smiles on the Secretary, " sheretorted. 

"We are fellow diplomats, " he countered. "You did me a good turn in theDu Plesis affair; I'm trying now to show my appreciation. Moreover, itwill give Snodgrass an opportunity to reflect on your beauty andfascinating ways--and to look forward to eight o'clock. "

"It is pleasant to have something agreeable to look forward to, " shereplied, ironically suggestive. 

"Isn't it?" he approved. "I don't know anything more pleasant--unless itis the finishing stroke of an _affaire Diplomatique_. "

"Do you anticipate the finishing stroke to the present affair?"

"In due time. "

"Due time?" she inflected. 

"Whatever is necessary in the premises, " he explained. 

"It hasn't then gotten beyond the premises?"

"No, it hasn't gotten beyond the premises, " he replied--with an inwardchuckle. 

There was no occasion to explain that, by the latter premises, he meantherself. His whole scheme was dependent on her having the traitorousletter in her possession. He was quite sure Snodgrass had received it bymail at the Rataplan; and why had he put the unopened envelope in hispocket unless to give it to her on their way to the Chateau. And as he(Harleston) had caught her as she alighted from the taxi, and hadhurried her off to the State Department, she must still have it. Ofcourse, there was the possibility that Snodgrass had not yet deliveredit; so Snodgrass was being looked after by others. 

"Won't you give me a line on his Excellency, Guy?" she asked. "Is heeasy, or difficult, or neither?"

"I may not betray the weak points of my chief!" Harleston smiled. "Moreover, here we are, " as the taxi came to a stop on the SeventeenthStreet side of an atrociously ugly, and miserably inadequate buildingthat partially houses three Departments of the great AmericanGovernment. 

"Am I to be left alone with the great one?" she asked, as they went upthe steps from the sidewalk. 

"What do you wish me to do?" he inquired. 

"Wait until I signal!"

"And if his Excellency signals first?"

"It will be for me to influence that signal, " she replied. 

They took the private elevator to the next floor. The old negromessenger was waiting at the door of the reception room and he bowed tothe floor--a portion of the bow was for Harleston, but by far thelarger portion was for Madeline Spencer. 

"De Sec'eta'y, seh, am waiting for you all at onct, Mars Ha'lison, " hesaid; and ushering them across the big room to the Secretary's privateoffice he swung back the heavy door and bowed them into the Presence. 

As she passed the threshold, Mrs. Spencer caught her breath sharply, andstraightened her shoulders just a trifle. She saw where she stood, andwhat was coming. Very well--she would defeat them yet. 

XXIV

THE CANDLE FLAME

The Secretary was standing by the window; with him were Mrs. Clephaneand Carpenter. 

"How do you do, Mrs. Spencer!" he said, without waiting for the formalpresentation. 

She dropped him--Continental fashion--a bit of curtsy and offered himher slender fingers; which, as well as the rest of her hand, he took andheld. Its shapeliness together with her beauty of face and figure wereinstantly swept up by his appraising glance. 

"Your Excellency is very gracious!" she murmured bestowing on him a lookthat fairly dizzied him. 

Small wonder, he thought, that she was reputed the most fascinating andloveliest secret agent in Europe--and the most dangerous to the otherparty involved; it would be a rare man, indeed, who could withstand suchcharms, to say nothing of the alluring and appealing ways that must gowith them. If he only might try them--just to test his own fine powerof resistance and adamantine will! He shot a quick glance of suppressedirritation at Harleston--and Madeline Spencer saw it and smiled, turningthe smile toward Harleston. 

"I know what you are about to do, " the smile said. "Now do it if youcan. You were afraid to trust me alone with this man; you knew how easyhe would be for me. Proceed with your game, Mr. Harleston--and play itout. "

Meanwhile the Secretary, still holding her hand, was saying:

"Let me present the Fifth Assistant Secretary of State, Mr. Carpenter;--" and Carpenter received a smile only a little less dazzlingthan that bestowed on his chief--"I believe you have met Mrs. Clephane, "he ended, and only then did he release her hand. 

"Yes, I have met Mrs. Clephane, " she replied indifferently, and withoutso much as a glance her way. 

It was to be a battle, so why delay it?

"Your Excellency, " said she, "when this appointment was made, some daysago, I thought that it was merely to enable an insignificant woman tosay that she had met a great dignitary and famous man. I think so nolonger. It has assumed an international significance. I am here not asplain Madeline Spencer but as Madeline Spencer of the German SecretService. It seems that a certain letter intended for the FrenchAmbassador has gone astray, and has come into your possession; thereforeI am to be asked to explain the matter, though I've never seen theletter nor know the cipher in which, I am told by Mr. Harleston, it iswritten. So what is it you would of me, your Excellency?"

"My dear Madame Spencer, " said the Secretary, "what you say as to theoriginal reason for this little meeting, arranged by our mutual friend, Mr. Harleston, is absolutely correct--except that it was a mere man whowas desirous of being presented to a beautiful and a famous woman. Itseems, however, that certain circumstances have suddenly arisen thatmade it imperative for the meeting to be advanced half an hour--"

"What are those circumstances, may I ask?" she cut in. 

"I shall have to request Mr. Harleston to answer. To be quite candid, Madame Spencer, I can only infer them; Mr. Harleston arranged them. "

She turned to Harleston with a mocking smile. 

"I am listening, monsieur, " she inflected. "What is it you, or ratherAmerica, would of me?"

"The letter you have in your possession, " said Harleston. 

"The letter!" she marvelled. "Why, Mr. Harleston, you know quite wellthat I never had the Clephane letter. "

"Very true; we have the Clephane letter, as you style it; and we havealso a _translation_. What we want from you is the letter that CaptainSnodgrass took from his mail box at the Rataplan this afternoon, andgave to you in the taxi on the way to the Chateau. "

She smiled incredulously. 

"Absurd, sir!" she replied. "Surely you are not serious!"

"Let me be entirely specific, " he returned "I'll put all my cards on thetable and play them open. "

"Double dummy, by all means!" she laughed, perching her lithe length onthe arm of a chair, one slender foot swinging slowly back and forth. "Your play, monsieur. "

"There is no need to go back farther than this morning, " he observed. "We knew that you were to meet Captain Snodgrass and lunch with him atone o'clock at the Rataplan. Your man Marston, when he visited Mr. Carpenter this morning, managed inadvertently to furnish the key-word ofthe Clephane letter. Do you see whither your meeting with Snodgrass, anex-officer of the Army, in view of the translation of the letter leads, Madeline? Marston, I might remark, was quickly apprehended; if he made acopy of the letter, he had no opportunity to use it. Well, you went tothe Rataplan with Snodgrass--every movement you two made, from the timeyou joined Snodgrass at the Chateau until I myself put you in my cabwhen you returned to the hotel, was observed by numerous and competentshadows. We were convinced that you were to receive the formula--"

"What formula, Guy?"

"The formula mentioned in the Clephane letter, " he explained; "whichformula you received from Snodgrass during the ride back from theRataplan to the Chateau. He received it there by post, and got it fromhis box as you were leaving. He even was foolish enough to open theoriginal envelope, and to put the one enclosed, unopened in his pocket. You immediately took a taxi for the Chateau. My taxi was close behindyours; and I caught you as you were alighting and hurried you off to--"

"This pleasant appointment!" she laughed. "I suppose, Guy, you want theenvelope and contents--which you assume Captain Snodgrass transferred tome in the taxi; _n'est-ce pas?_"

"Exactly, Madeline. "

"And it's three strong men and one woman against poor me, " sheshrugged--"unless Mrs. Clephane is merely a disinterested spectator. "

"I am always interested in what Mr. Harleston does, " Edith repliedsweetly. 

"Particularly when he is doing another woman, " was the retort. 

"It depends somewhat on the woman done, " said Edith. 

"Why are you here?" Mrs. Spencer laughed. 

"To see the end of the affair of the cab-of-the-sleeping-horse. "

Mrs. Spencer shrugged and turned to Harleston. 

"Do you expect to end it, Guy?" she asked. "Because if you do, and thisformulaic letter, that you think I have, will end it, I am sorry indeedto disappoint you. I haven't that letter, nor do I know anything as toit. "

"In that event you have the consideration which you were to pay for theletter, " Harleston returned. 

"My dear Guy, where would I carry this consideration?" she laughed, witha sweeping motion to her narrow lingerie gown that could not so much asconceal a pocket. 

"I don't imagine that you are carrying gold or even Bank of Englandnotes. You're not so crude. The consideration is, most likely, a note tothe German Ambassador, on the presentation of which the money will bepaid in good American gold. And I'm so sure of the facts that it iseither the formula or the consideration. The latter we shall notappropriate; the former we shall keep. "

"And if I have neither?" she asked. 

"Then we get neither--though that is a consummation most unlikely. "

"And how are you to determine?"

"By your gracious surrender of it!"

She laughed softly. "But if I am not able to be gracious?"

"I trust that we shall not be obliged to go so far. " And when she wouldhave answered he cut her short, courteously but with finality. "You'velost, Madeline; now be a good loser. You've won from me, and made me paystakes and then some--and I've paid and smiled. "

"Exactly! You've paid; I can't pay, because one loses before one pays, and I haven't anything to lose. "

"You will prove it?" he asked. 

"Certainly, " said she. "Do you wish me to submit to a search?"

"I don't wish it, but you have left no alternative. "

"Burr!" went the telephone. 

The Secretary answered. "Here is Mr. Harleston, " he said and pushed theinstrument over. 

"This is Ranleigh, " came the voice. "We've searched the man, also thecab, and found nothing beyond some innocent personal correspondence. We've retained the correspondence and let the man go. "

"That, I suppose, " Mrs. Spencer remarked as Harleston hung up thereceiver, "was to say that Mr. Snodgrass and the cab have beenthoroughly searched and nothing suspicious found. "

"Your intuition is marvellous, " Harleston answered. "Major Ranleigh'sreport was that exactly. Consequently, Madeline, the letter must be withyou. "

"How about the consideration that Captain Snodgrass received from me inreturn for the formulaic letter?" she asked. "He doesn't seem to havehad it. "

"Maybe you managed both to get the letter from him and to keep theconsideration. It would not be the first time I have known you toaccomplish it. "

"Only once--against you, Guy!" she laughed. 

Which was a lie; but scored for her--and, for the moment, silenced him. 

She shot a glance at the Secretary. He was beating a tattoo on the padbefore him and looking calmly at her--as impersonal as though she were adoor-jamb; and she understood; however much he might be inclined to aidher, this was not the time for him even to appear interested. On anotheroccasion, _à deux_, he would display sufficient ardour and admiration. At present it must be the impassive face and the judicial manner. Thebusiness of the great Government he had the honour to represent was atissue!

There being no help from that high and mighty quarter, she turned toHarleston. 

"Well, " with a shrug of resignation, "I've lost and must pay. Here, "opening the mesh-bag that she carried, "is the--"

She threw up her hand, and a nasty little automatic was covering theSecretary's heart. 

He gave a shout--and sat perfectly still. Mrs. Clephane, with anexclamation of fear, laid her hand on Harleston's arm. Carpenter wasimpassive. Harleston suppressed a smile. 

"Tell them if I can shoot straight, Guy, " Mrs. Spencer said pleasantly;"and meanwhile do you all keep your exact distance and position. Speakyour piece, Mr. Harleston--tell his Excellency if I can shoot. "

"I am quite ready to assume it without the testimony of Mr. Harleston, or ocular demonstration in this immediate direction, " the Secretaryremarked with a weak grin. 

"Tell him, if I can shoot, Guy, " she ordered. 

"I've never seen her better, " Harleston admitted "though I'm not at allfearful for your Excellency. Mrs. Spencer won't shoot; she's onlybluffing. If you'll say the word, I'll engage to disarm her. "

"Meanwhile what happens to his Excellency?" Madeline Spencer mocked. 

"Nothing whatever--except a few nervous moments. "

"Try it, Mr. Secretary, and find out!" she laughed across the levelledrevolver. 

"Train your gun on Mr. Harleston and test him, " the Secretary suggested, attempting to be facetious and failing. 

Mrs. Spencer might be, probably was, bluffing but he did not propose tobe the one to call it; the result was quite too uncertain. He had neverlooked into the muzzle of a revolver, and he found the experiencedistinctly unpleasant--she held the barrel so steady and pointedstraight at his heart. Diplomatic secrets were wanted of course, butthey were not to be purchased by the life of the Secretary of State, nor even by an uncertain chance at it. 

"Mr. Harleston's life isn't sufficiently valuable to the nation, " shereplied, "I prefer to shoot you, if necessary--though I trust it won'tbe necessary. What's a mere scrap of paper, without value save as ameans to detect its author, compared to the life of the greatestAmerican diplomat? Moreover, the letter would yield you nothing as toits meaning nor its author. The meaning you already know, since you havefound the key-word to the cipher; so only the author remains; and as itis typewritten you will have small, very small, prospect from it. " Shehad read the Secretary aright--and now she asked: "Am I not correct, your Excellency?"

"I think you are, " the Secretary replied, "We all are obligated andquite ready to give our lives for our country, if the sacrifice willbenefit it in the very least; yet I can't see the obligation in thisinstance, can you Harleston?"

"None in the least, sir, provided your life were at issue, " Harlestonanswered. "For my part, I think it isn't even seriously threatened. IfMrs. Spencer will shift her aim to me, I'll take a chance. "

Mrs. Clephane gave a suppressed exclamation and an involuntary motion ofprotest--and Mrs. Spencer saw her. 

"Mrs. Clephane seems to be concerned lest I accept!" she jeered. 

Mrs. Clephane blushed ravishingly, and Harleston caught her in the act;whereupon she blushed still more, and turned away. 

"Play acting!" mocked Madeline Spencer--then, shrugging the matteraside, she turned to the Secretary. "Since we two are of one mind in theaffair before us, your Excellency, " she observed, "I fancy I may take itas settled. Nevertheless you will pardon me if I don't depress my aimuntil we have attended to a little matter; it will occupy us but amoment, " making a step nearer the desk and away from the others, yetstill holding them in her eye. 

"What is it you wish, madame?" the Secretary inquired a trifle huskily;his throat was becoming somewhat parched by the anxiety of thesituation. 

"I see you have on your desk a small blue candle; employed, I assume, for melting wax for your private seal, " she went on. "May I trouble yourExcellency to light the aforesaid candle?"

The Secretary promptly struck a match, and managed with a most unsteadyhand to touch it to the wick. 

As the flame flared up, she drew a narrow envelope from her bag andtossed it on the desk before him. 

"Now, " said she, "will you be kind enough to look at the enclosure. "

The Secretary took up the envelope and drew out the sheet. It was asingle sheet of the thinnest texture used for foreign correspondence. Helooked first at one side, then at the other. 

"What do you see, sir?" she asked. 

"The sheet is blank, " he replied. 

"Try the envelope, " she recommended. 

He turned it over. "It also is blank, " he said. 

"Sympathetic ink!" Carpenter laughed. 

"Just what we are about to see, wise one!" she mocked. "Now, yourExcellency, will you place the envelope in the candle's flame?"

The Secretary took the envelope by the tip of one corner and held it inthe blaze until it was burned to his fingers--no writing was disclosed. 

"Now the letter, please?" she directed. And when Carpenter would haveprotested, she cut him short with a peremptory gesture. "Don'tinterrupt, sir!" she exclaimed. 

And Carpenter laughed softly and did nothing more--being, withHarleston, in enjoyment of their chief's discomfiture. 

"The letter--see--your Excellency, " she repeated with a bewilderingsmile. 

And as the flame crept down the thin sheet, just ahead of it, apparentto them all, crept also the writing, brought out by the heat. In amoment it was over; the last bit of the corner burning in a brass traywhere the Secretary had dropped it. 

"Now, Mr. Harleston, " said Madeline Spencer, lowering her revolver asthe final flicker of the flame expired, "I am ready to submit to asearch. "

Harleston glanced inquiringly at the Secretary. 

"The lady is with you, " the Secretary remarked with a sigh of relief. 

"Very well, sir, " said Harleston. "Ranleigh has a skilled woman in thewaiting-room, she will officiate in the matter. We're not likely to findanything, but it's to provide against the chance. "--And turning toMadeline Spencer: "Whatever the outcome, madame, you will leaveWashington tonight and sail from New York on the morrow; and I shouldadvise you to remain abroad so long as you are in the DiplomaticService. "

And she--knowing very well that the search was necessary, and aware thatwhile there was nothing incriminating upon her yet from that moment, until the ship that carried her passed out to sea, she would be underclose espionage--answered, pleasantly as though accepting a courtesytendered, and with a winning smile:

"I had arranged to sail tomorrow, Mr. Harleston so it will be just asintended. Meanwhile, I'm at the service of your female assistant. Shewill find nothing, I assure you. "

"Give me the pleasure of conducting you to her, " Harleston replied, andswung open the door. 

"If Mrs. Clephane will trust you with me, " she inflected, flouting theother with a meaning look; which look flitted across the room to theSecretary and changed to one of interrogation as it met his eyes--calmeyes and steady, and with never a trace of the interest that she knewwas behind them, yet dared not show--yet awhile. 

And Mrs. Clephane answered her look by a shrug; and Harleston answeredthat to the Secretary by a soft chuckle. As the door closed behindthem, he remarked:

"At a more propitious time. "

To which she responded:

"Which time may never come. " Then she held out her hand. "Good-bye, Guy, " she smiled. 

"Good-bye, Madeline, " said he; "and good luck another time--with otheropponents. "

"And we'll call this--"

"A stale-mate! I didn't win everything, yet what I lost was of nomoment--"

"Do you think so?" she asked sharply. 

"To my client, the United States, " he added. "So far as I am concerned, Madeline, we still are friends. "

He put out his hand again; she hesitated just an instant; then, with oneof her rare, frank smiles, she laid her own hand in it. 

"Guy, " she whispered, "she wasn't as bad as she was painted; in fact, she wasn't bad at all--and I know. "

 * * * * *

"Your Secretary of State is a peculiar man?" Mrs. Clephane observed, asshe and Harleston came down the steps into the Avenue. 

Harleston leaned over. "I'll confide to you that he is an egotisticaland insufferable old ass, " he whispered. 

"And yet he thinks he is a perfect fascinator with the ladies!" shelaughed. "Even now he is contemplating what a conquest he made of Mrs. Spencer. It was great fun to watch her playing him; and then howsuddenly he pulled himself up and assumed a judicial manner--whichdeceived no one. Certainly it didn't deceive her, for the flying lookshe gave him, as she went out, was the cleverest thing she did. It toldhim everything he wanted to know, and simply gorged his vanity. She maybe, doubtless is, a bad, bad lot; yet nevertheless I can't help likingher--and for finesse and skill she is a wonder. " Then she looked at himdemurely. "You're fond of her, Mr. Harleston, are you not?"

"I'm fond of her, " he replied slowly; "but not as fond as I once was, and not so long ago, I'll tell you more about it before we go in todinner this evening. "

"I wasn't aware that we were to dine together In fact, I was thinking ofdoing something else. "

"But you _will_ dine with me now, won't you?" he asked meaningly. 

Her eyes hesitated, and fell, and a bewitching flush stole into hercheek; she understood that he asked of her something more than a meredinner. And, after a pause, she answered softly, yet not so softly butthat he heard:

"If you wish it, Monsieur Harleston. "