possession. When I come to see you in London, I will bring you twenty thousand pounds in Bank of England notes. With that Von Behrling might fancy himself on his way to America—with you.” She closed her eyes for a moment. Perhaps she wished to keep hidden from him the thoughts which chased one another through her brain. He wished to make use of her—of her, the woman whom he loved. Then she remembered that it was for her country and his, and the anger passed. “But I am afraid,” she said softly, “that the moment they reach London this document will be taken to the Austrian Embassy.” “Before then,” Bellamy declared, “Von Behrling must not know whether he is in heaven or upon earth. It will not be opened in London. He can make up another packet to resemble precisely the one of which he robbed Dorward. Oh! it is a difficult game, I know, but it is worth playing. Remember, Louise, that we are not petty conspirators. It is your country’s very existence that is threatened. It is for her sake as well as for England.” “I shall do my best,” she murmured, looking into his face. “Oh, you may be sure that I shall do my best!” Bellamy raised her fingers to his lips and stole away. The electric lamps had been turned out, but the morning was cloudy and the light dim. Back in his own berth, he put his things together, ready to leave at Munich. Then he rang for the porter. “I am getting out at the next stop,” he announced. “Very good, Monsieur,” the man answered. Bellamy looked at him closely. “You are a Frenchman?” “It is so, Monsieur!” “I may be wrong,” Bellamy continued slowly, “but I believe that if I asked you a question and it concerned some Germans and Austrians you would tell me the truth.” The man’s gesture was inimitable. Englishmen to him were obviously the salt of the earth. Germans and Austrians—why, they existed as the cattle in the fields—nothing more. Bellamy gave him a sovereign. “There were three Austrians who got in at Vienna,” he said. “They are in numbers ten and eleven.” “But yes,
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