David—I have promised to join him there.” 

 Bellamy was grave. 

 “There will be trouble,” he said. “He will come back. He will want to shoot you. He may be slow-witted in some things, but he is passionate.” 

 “Am I a coward?” she asked, with a scornful laugh. “Have I ever shown fear of my life? No, David! It is not that of which I am afraid. It is the memory of the man’s touch, it is the look which was in your face when you came into the room. These are the things I fear—not death.” 

 Bellamy drew her into his arms and kissed her. 

 “Forgive me,” he begged. “At such times a man is a weak thing—a weak and selfish thing. I am ashamed of myself. I should have known better than to have doubted you for a moment. I know you so well, Louise. I know what you are.” 

 She smiled. 

 “Dear,” she said, “you have made me happy. And now you must go away. Remember that these few minutes are only an interlude. Over here I am Mademoiselle Idiale who sings to-night at Covent Garden. See my roses. There are two rooms full of reporters and photographers in the place now. The leader of the orchestra is in my bedroom, and two of the directors are drinking whiskies and sodas with this new manager of mine in the dining-room. Between five and six o’clock this afternoon you will get the message. It is somewhere, I think, in the city that you will have to go. There will be no trouble about the money? Nothing but notes or gold will be of any use.” 

 “I have it in my pocket,” he answered. “I have it in notes, but he need never fear that they will be traced. The numbers of notes given for Secret Service purposes are expunged from every one’s memory.” 

 She drew a little sigh. 

 “It is a great sum,” she said. “After all, he should be grateful to me. If only he would be sensible and get away to the United States or to South America! He could live there like a prince, poor fellow. He would be far happier.” 

 “I only hope that he will go,” Bellamy agreed. “There is one thing to be remembered. If he does not go, if he stays for twenty-four hours in this country, I do not believe that he will live to do you harm. The men who are with him are not the sort to stop short at trifles. Besides Streuss and Kahn, they have a regular army of spies at their bidding here. If they 

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