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diff --git a/old/15094-8.txt b/old/15094-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..4cd962b --- /dev/null +++ b/old/15094-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,9235 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Cab of the Sleeping Horse, by John Reed +Scott, Illustrated by William van Dresser + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: The Cab of the Sleeping Horse + +Author: John Reed Scott + +Release Date: February 18, 2005 [eBook #15094] +[Date last updated: March 5, 2005] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CAB OF THE SLEEPING HORSE*** + + +E-text prepared by Juliet Sutherland, Josephine Paolucci, Joshua +Hutchinson, and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team + + + +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 Company +Publishers New York +Published by arrangement with G.P. Putnam's Sons + +1916 + + + + + + + +[Illustration: SHE THREW UP HER HAND, AND A NASTY LITTLE AUTOMATIC +WAS 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 and +watched 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 occasion +demands, 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 introducing +her to this company. Moreover," as he drew out his watch, "it is +half-after-twelve of a fine spring night, and, unless we wish to be +turned 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 lies +athwart your path." + +"I don't think you make good company, anyway, with your questions and +your 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 as +expediency or her notion suits her. Her maiden name was Madeline +Cuthbert. She married a Colonel Spencer of Ours; he divorced her, after +she had eloped with a rich young lieutenant of his regiment. She didn't +marry 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 the +pavement with his stick. "Afterward she had various adventures with +various wealthy men, and always won. Her particularly spectacular +adventure was posing, at the instigation of the Duke of Lotzen, as the +wife of the Archduke Armand of Valeria; and she stirred up a mess of +turmoil 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 years +later. Which death, despite the authorized report, was not natural: the +King of Valeria killed him in a sword duel in Ferida Palace on the +principal street of Dornlitz. The lady then betook herself to Paris and +took up her present life of extreme respectability--and political +usefulness to our friends of Wilhelm-strasse. In fact, I understand that +she has more than made good professionally, as well as fascinated at +least 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 far +as I know, she has never been false to the hand that paid her." + +"Which, in her position, is the cleverest thing of all!" Clarke +remarked. + +They passed the English Legation, a bulging, three-storied, red brick, +dormer-roofed atrocity, standing a few feet in from the sidewalk; ugly +as original sin, externally as repellent as the sidewalk and the narrow +little drive under the _porte-cochère_ are dirty. + +"It's a pity," said Clarke, "that the British Legation cannot afford a +man-servant to clean its front." + +"No one is presumed to arrive or leave except in carriages or motor +cars," Harleston explained. "_They_ can push through the dirt to the +entrance." + +"Why, would you believe it," Clarke added, "the deep snow of last +February lay on the walks untouched until well into the following day. +The blooming Englishmen just then began to appreciate that it had snowed +the previous night. Are they so slow on the secret-service end?" + +"They have quite enough speed on that end," Harleston responded. "They +are 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 her +family before her, I've been interested to watch her travelling--her +remarkable career. And it has been a career, Clarke; believe me, it's +been a career. For pure cleverness, and the appreciation of +opportunities with the ability to grasp them, the devil himself can't +show 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 to +present you to her." + +"Doesn't she ever come to America?" + +"I think not. She says the Continent, and Paris in particular, is good +enough for her." + +Harleston left Clarke at Dupont Circle and turned down Massachusetts +Avenue. + +The broad thoroughfare was deserted, yet at the intersection of +Eighteenth Street he came upon a most singular sight. + +A cab was by the curb, its horse lying prostrate on the asphalt, its box +vacant of driver. + +Harleston stopped. What had he here! Then he looked about for a +policeman. Of course, none was in sight. Policemen never are in sight on +Massachusetts Avenue. + +As a general rule, Harleston was not inquisitive as to things that did +not concern him--especially at one o'clock in the morning; but the +waiting cab, the deserted box, the recumbent horse in the shafts excited +his curiosity. + +The cab, probably, was from the stand in Dupont Circle; and the cabby +likely was asleep inside the cab, with a bit too much rum aboard. +Nevertheless, the matter was worth a step into Eighteenth Street and a +few seconds' time. It might yield only a drunken driver's mutterings at +being disturbed; it might yield much of profit. And the longer Harleston +looked the more he was impelled to investigate. Finally curiosity +prevailed. + +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 a +snort it struggled to its feet, then looked around apologetically at +Harleston, as though begging to be excused for having been caught in a +most reprehensible act for a cab horse. + +"That's all right, old boy," Harleston smiled. "You doubtless are in +need of all the sleep you can get. Now, if you'll be good enough to +stand 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 at +the 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 equipment +of the cab. The pockets on the doors yielded nothing. He turned up the +cushion and felt under it: nothing. On the floor, however, was a woman's +handkerchief, filmy and small, and without the least odour clinging to +it. + +"Strange!" Harleston muttered. "They are always covered with perfume." + +Moreover, while a very expensive handkerchief, it was without +initial--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 the +far corner. From certain abrasions in the stems, he concluded that they +had been torn, or loosed, from a woman's corsage. + +He felt again--then he struck a match, leaning well inside the cab so +as to hide the light as much as possible. + +The momentary flare disclosed a square envelope standing on edge and +close in against the seat. Extinguishing the match, he caught it up. + +It was of white linen of superior quality, without superscription, and +sealed; the contents were very light--a single sheet of paper, likely. + +The handkerchief, the crushed roses, the unaddressed, sealed +envelope--the horse, the empty and deserted cab, standing before a +vacant lot, at one o'clock in the morning! Surely any one of them was +enough to stir the imagination; together they were a tantalizing +mystery, calling for solution and beckoning one on. + +Harleston took another look around, saw no one, and calmly pocketed the +envelope. Then, after noting the number of the cab, No. 333, he gathered +up the lines, whipped the ends about the box, and chirped to the horse +to proceed. + +The horse promptly obeyed; turned west on Massachusetts Avenue, and +backed up to his accustomed stand in Dupont Circle as neatly as though +his 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 he +had some trouble in convincing the lad that the sixth was his floor. In +fact, Harleston's mind being occupied with the recent affair, he would +have let himself be put off at the fourth floor, if he had not happened +to notice the large gilt numbers on the glass panel of the door opposite +the elevator. The bright light shining through this panel caught his +eye, and he wondered indifferently that it should be burning at such an +hour. + +Subsequently he understood the light in No. 401; but then it was too +late. Had he been delayed ten seconds, or had he gotten off at the +fourth floor, he would have--. However, I anticipate; or rather I +speculate on what would have happened under hypothetical +conditions--which is fatuous in the extreme; hypothetical conditions +never are existent facts. + +Harleston, having gained his apartment, leisurely removed from his +pockets the handkerchief, the roses, and the envelope, and placed them +on the library table. With the same leisureliness, he removed his light +top-coat and his hat and hung them in the closet. Returning to the +library, he chose a cigarette, tapped it on the back of his hand, struck +a match, and carefully passed the flame across the tip. After several +puffs, taken with conscious deliberation, he sat down and took up the +handkerchief. + +This was Harleston's way: to delay deliberately the gratification of his +curiosity, so as to keep it always under control. An important +letter--where haste was not an essential--was unopened for a while; his +morning newspaper he would let lie untouched beside his plate for +sufficiently long to check his natural inclination to glance hastily +over the headlines of the first page. In everything he tried by +self-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 he +had broken over and lost his poise only that afternoon. He wanted to +know what was inside that blank envelope. He was persuaded it contained +that which would either solve the mystery of the cab, or would in itself +lead on to a greater mystery. In either event, a most interesting +document 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 the +drop-light and with the aid of a microscope. Not a mark to indicate who +carried it nor whence it came.--Yet stay; in the closed room he detected +what had been lost in the open: a faint, a very faint, odour as of +azurea sachet. It was only a suggestion; vague and uncertain, and +entirely absent at times. And Harleston shook his head. The very fact +that there was nothing about it by which it might be identified +indicated the deliberate purpose to avoid identification. He put it +aside, and, taking up the roses, laid them under the light. + +They were the usual American Beauties; only larger and more gorgeous +than the general run--which might be taken as an indication of the +wealth of the giver, or of the male desire to please the female; or of +both. Of course, there was the possibility that the roses were of the +woman's own buying; but women rarely waste their own money on American +Beauties--and Harleston knew it. A minute examination convinced him that +they 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 were +scarred as by a heel; the rest of the blooms were crushed but not +scarred. Which indicated violence--first gentle, then somewhat drastic. + +He put the flowers aside and picked up the envelope, looked it over +carefully, then, with a peculiarly thin and very sharp knife, he cut the +sealing of the flap so neatly that it could be resealed and no one +suspect it had been opened. As he turned back the flap, a small +unmounted 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. "This +is quite a surprise. You're taken very recently, and you're worth +looking at for divers aesthetic reasons--none of which, however, is the +reason 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 it +out without the key-word; and the key-word--" he gave a shrug. "I'll let +Carpenter try his hand on it; it's too much for me." + +He knew from experience the futility of attempting the solution of a +cipher by any but an expert; and even with an expert it was rarely +successful. + +As a general rule, the key to a secret cipher is discovered only by +accident or by betrayal. There are hundreds of secret ciphers--any +person can devise one--in everyday use by the various departments of the +various governments; but, in the main, they are amplifications or +variations of some half-dozen that have become generally accepted as +susceptible of the quickest and simplest translation with the key, and +the most puzzling without the key. Of these, the Blocked-Out Square, +first used by Blaise de Vigenèrie in 1589, is probably still the most +generally employed, and, because of its very simplicity, the most +impossible 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 any +reasonable number. Simply apply it to the alphabetic Blocked-Out Square +and the message is evident; no books whatever are required. A slip of +paper and a pencil are all that are necessary; any one can write the +square; 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 that +the key-word is: "In the inn." Write the key-word and under it the +message: + + 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 two +lines 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 yield +V, and so on, until the completed message is: + + BBFVVZBJAHKL + +The translator of the cipher message simply reverses this proceeding. He +knows 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 that +line, T, is the first letter of the message--and so on. + +Simple! Yes, childishly simple with the key-word; and the key-word can +be carried in one's mind. Without the key-word, translation is +impossible. + +Harleston put down the paper and leaned back. + +Altogether it was a most interesting collection, these four articles on +the table. It was a pity that the cab and the sleeping horse were not +among the exhibits. Number one: a lady's lace handkerchief. Number two: +three American Beauty roses, somewhat the worse for wear and violent +usage. Number three: a cipher message. Number four: photograph of +Madame--or Mademoiselle--de Cuthbert, de Spencer, de Lotzen. There was a +pretty plot behind these exhibits; a pretty plot, or he missed his +guess. It might concern the United States--and it might not. It would be +his duty to find out. Meanwhile, the picture stirred memories that he +had thought long dead. Also it suggested possibilities. It was some +years since they had matched their wits against each other, and the last +time 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; and +presently 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 could +almost wish that they might be again; with a different _mise en scène_, +and a different ending--and a different client for his. He was becoming +almost sentimental--and he was too old a bird for sentiment, and quite +too old at this game; which had not any sentiment about it that was not +pretence and sham. Yet it was a good game--a mighty entertaining game; +where one measured wits with the best, and took long chances, and played +for 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 another +deal 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; and +I take it you are, else why this picture. Yet to induce you to break +your rule and cross the Atlantic, the moving consideration must be of +the utmost weight, or else it's purely a personal matter. H-u-m! Under +all the circumstances, I should say the latter is the more likely. In +which event, I may not be concerned further than to return these--" with +a wave of his hand toward the exhibits. + +For a while longer he sat in silence, eyes half closed, lips a bit +compressed; a certain sternness, that was always in his countenance, +showing plainest when in reflective thought. At last, he smiled. Then he +lit another cigarette, took up the letter and the photograph, and put +them in the small safe standing behind an ornate screen in the +corner--not, however, without another look at the calmly beautiful face. + +The roses he left lie on the table; the steel safe would not preserve +them in _statu quo_; moreover, he knew, or thought he knew, all that +they could convey. He swung the door shut; then swung it open, and +looked again at the picture--and for sometime--before he put it up and +gave the knob a twirl. + +"I'm sure bewitched!" he remarked, going on to his bedroom. "It's not +difficult for me to understand the Duke of Lotzen. He was simply a +man--and men, at the best, are queer beggars. No woman ever understands +us--and no more do we understand women. So we're both quits on that +score, if we're not quite on some others." Then he raised his hands +helplessly, "Oh, Lord, the petticoats, the petticoats!" + +Just then the telephone rang--noisily as befits two o'clock in the +morning. + +"Who the devil wants me at such an hour?" he muttered. + +The clang was repeated almost instantly and continued until he unhooked +the receiver. + +"Well!" he said sharply. + +"Is that Mr. Harleston?" asked a woman's voice. A particularly soft and +sweet 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 you +are 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't +like sarcasm when I'm the cause of it." + +"You're the cause of it but not the object of it," he assured her. "I'm +quite sure I've never met you, and just as sure that I hope to meet you +today." + +"Your hope, Mr. Harleston, is also mine. But why, may I ask, do you call +me 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 the +business 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 becoming +convinced 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 and +forget 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 in +hand." + +"And the business in hand depends primarily on whether you are +interested in the subject matter of the business, _n'est-ce pas_?" + +"I am profoundly interested, mademoiselle, in any matter that concerns +you--as well as in yourself. Who would not be interested in one so +impulsive--and anything so important--as to call him on the telephone at +two 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 the +talk. Maybe there was not any idea in it, just a feminine notion; yet +something in the very alluring softness of her voice told him otherwise. + +"You guessed it," he replied. "I was not asleep. Also I might guess +something in regard to your business." + +"What?" + +"No, no, mademoiselle! It's impertinent to guess about what does not +concern me--yet." + +"Delete the word 'yet,' Mr. Harleston, and substitute the idea that it +was--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 to +be specific, you would say; though I might respond that you've known all +along what my business is with you." + +"The name of an individual is a prerequisite to the transaction of +business," 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 not +met, and you desire to talk business." + +"And I'm going to talk business!" she laughed. "And I shall not give +you 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, "I +haven't a word to say. Pray begin." + +"Being assured now that you have never before heard my voice, and that +you have it fixed sufficiently in your memory--all of which, Mr. +Harleston, wasn't in the least necessary, for we shall meet today--we +will proceed. Ready?" + +"Ready, mademoiselle--I mean Madame X." + +"What do you intend to do, sir, in regard to the incident of the +deserted 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 my +question." + +"For a moment, a mere man may have had a clever woman's intuition," he +replied. + +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 as +you are concerned, and to have matters take their intended course. It's +to 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, as +you desire to be told, I'll tell you. I wish you to forget that you saw +anything unusual on your way home this morning, and to return the +articles 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!" she +laughed. + +She had not missed the handkerchief, or else she thought it of no +consequence. + +"Assuming, for the moment, that I have the articles in question, how are +they 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 momentary +pause. "And the place?" + +"Where you will," he answered. He wanted her to fix it so that he could +judge of her good faith. + +And she understood. + +"I'm not arranging to have you throttled!" she laughed. "Let us say the +corridor of the Chateau--that is safe enough, isn't it?" + +"Don't you know, Madame X, that Peacock Alley is one of the most +dangerous 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 your +adorable 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 wear +three 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 the +paper-knife, with which he was spearing tiny holes in the blotter of the +pad. "Peacock Alley at five--but there are a few matters that come +first." + +He went straight to the safe, unlocked it, took out the photograph, the +cipher message, and the handkerchief, carried these to the table and +placed them in a large envelope, which he sealed and addressed to +himself. Then with it, and the three American Beauties, he passed +quickly into the corridor and to an adjoining apartment. There he rang +the bell vigorously and long. + +He was still ringing when a dishevelled figure, in blue pajamas and a +scowl, 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 me +until 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 turned +and flung them into a corner of the living-room. + +"Hell!" he said in disgust. "Harleston's either crazy or in love: it's +the same thing anyway." + +He slammed the door and went back to bed. + +Harleston, chuckling, returned to his quarters; retrieved from the floor +a leaf and a petal and tossed them out of the window. Then, being +assured by a careful inspection of the room that there were no further +traces 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 at +the 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 sill +was wide and offered an easy footing. If the window were up, one could +easily step inside; or, even if it were not, the catch could be slipped +in a moment. + +Harleston's window, however, was up--invitingly up; also the window on +the passage; it was a warm night and any air was grateful. + +He lay quite still and waited developments. They came from another +quarter: the corridor on which his apartment opened. Someone was there. + +Then the knob of his door turned; he could not distinguish it in the +uncertain light, yet he knew it was turning by a peculiarly faint +screech--almost so faint as to be indistinguishable. One would not +notice it except at the dead of night. + +The door hung a moment; then cautiously it swung back a little way, and +two men entered. The moon, though now low, was sufficient to light the +place faintly and to enable them to see and be seen. + +For a brief interval they stood motionless. They came to life when +Harleston, reaching up, pushed the electric button. + +"What can I do for you, gentlemen?" he asked, blinking into their +levelled revolvers. + +They were medium-sized men and wore evening clothes; one was about +forty-five and rather inclined to stoutness, the other was under forty +and rather slender. They were not masked, and their faces, which were +strange to Harleston, were the faces of men of breeding, accustomed to +affairs. + +"You startled us, Mr. Harleston," the elder replied; "and you blinded us +momentarily by the rush of light." + +"It was thoughtless of me," Harleston returned. He waved his hand toward +the 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 to +mention the hazard from drafts. You're much more comfortable in bed--and +we can transact our business with you quite as well so; moreover if you +will give us your word to lie quiet and not call or shoot, we shall not +offer you the slightest violence." + +"I'll do anything," Harleston smiled, "to be relieved of looking down +those unattractive muzzles. Ah! thank you!--The chairs, gentlemen!" with +a fine gesture of welcome. + +"We haven't time to sit down, thank you," said Sparrow. "Time presses +and 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 to +do until nine o'clock--except to sleep; and sleep is a mere incidental +to me. I would much rather chat with visitors, especially those who pay +me 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 ever +having met either of you. However--you'll find cigars and cigarettes on +the table in the other room. I'll be greatly obliged, if one of you will +pass 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 and +carefully passed the flame across the tip. "Now, sirs, I'm at your +service. To what, or to whom, do I owe the honour of this visit?" + +"We have ventured to intrude on you, Mr. Harleston," said Marston, "in +regard to a little matter that happened on Eighteenth Street near +Massachusetts 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 me +to 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 the +cab, 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 Massachusetts +Avenue several hours ago?" + +"They are the crux of the matter," Marston said shortly. "And you will +confer a great favour upon persons high in authority of a friendly power +if you will return the articles in question." + +"My dear sir," Harleston exclaimed, "I haven't the articles, whatever +they may be; and pardon me, even if I had, I should not deliver them to +you; I've never, to the best of my recollection, seen either of you +gentlemen before this pleasant occasion." + +"My dear Mr. Harleston," remarked Sparrow, "all your actions at the cab +of the sleeping horse were observed and noted, so why protest?" + +"I'm not protesting; I'm simply stating two pertinent facts!" Harleston +laughed. + +"We will grant the fact that you've never seen us," said Marston, "but +that you have not got the articles in question, we," with apologizing +gesture, "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 is +an _impasse_ without your assistance." + +"The safe is not locked," Harleston remarked. "I think I neglected to +turn the knob. If you will--" + +"Don't disturb yourself, I pray," was the quick reply, the revolver +glinting 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. The +key 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 it +didn't strike my funny-bone--I should probably put up some sort of a +fight; as it is, you see I'm entirely acquiescent. Your tiny automatics +didn't in the least intimidate me. I could have landed you both as you +entered. 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 at +such an hour, they deserve to be received with every attention and +courtesy--particularly when they come on a mistaken impression and a +fruitless 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--the +open door, the open safe, the unemployed revolver, were not in +accordance 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," Harleston +interjected. "I'll trust you not to pry into matters other than the +letter. 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 not +find 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 bit +wearily, "nor are they in my apartment. You have been misinformed. I +find I am getting drowsy--this thing is not as absorbing as I had +thought it would be. With your permission I'll drop off to sleep; you're +welcome to continue the search. Make yourselves perfectly at home, +sirs." He lay back and drew up the sheet. "Just pull the door shut when +you depart, please," he said, and closed his eyes. + +"You're a queer chap," remarked Sparrow, pausing in his search and +surveying Harleston with a puzzled smile. "One would suppose you're used +to receiving interruptions at such hours for such purposes." + +"I try never to be surprised at anything however _outré_," Harleston +explained. "Good-night." + +The two men looked at the recumbent figure and then at each other and +laughed. + +"He acts the part," said the elder. "Have you found anything?" + +"Nothing! It's not in the safe nor the writing-table--nor anywhere else +that is reasonable. I've been through everything and there's nothing +doing." + +"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 but +to overturn everything in the place--and so on; and that will require a +day." + +"So that you replace things, I've not the slightest objection," +Harleston interjected. "Bang away, sirs, bang away! Anything to relieve +me 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 the +people too are up betimes. You risk interruption, I fear, from my +solicitous 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, sitting +up. + +Instantly the new-comer covered him with his revolver. + +"What did you say?" Sparrow inquired from the sitting-room, just as the +stranger 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 but +sufficiently in view to enable the stranger to see that he himself was +covered by an automatic. + +"For heaven's sake, Crenshaw," said Sparrow, "don't let us get to +shooting here! If you wing me, Marston will wing you, and we'll only +stir 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 goods +for the very good reason that the goods are not here. Plunge in and aid +in the search; I wish you would; it will relieve me of your triple +intrusion in one third less time. I'm becoming very tired of it all; it +has 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 my +apartment. But you'll facilitate the search if you'll depress your +respective cannon from the angle of each other's anatomy and get to +work. As I remarked before, I'm anxious to compose myself for sleep. You +can hold your little dispute later on the sidewalk, or in jail, or +wherever is most convenient." + +"Mr. Harleston," said Marston, "do you give us your word that the letter +is 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 tomorrow +will be too late." + +"And all because of you two meddlers." + +"Three meddlers, Crenshaw!" Marston laughed. "You must not forget your +sweet self. We've bungled the affair, I admit. We can't improve it now +by murdering each other--" + +"We can make it very uncomfortable for the fourth meddler," Crenshaw +threatened, 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's +ceased 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 can +return your call. Once more, good-night!" + +"I'm off," said Marston. "Come along, Crenshaw, you can't do anything +more here, and we'll all forget and forgive and start fresh in the +morning." + +"Start?" cried Crenshaw? "what for--home? I tell you the letter is +here--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 the +cab?" Crenshaw demanded, turning upon Harleston. + +"I'll give you nothing since you've asked me in that manner," Harleston +replied sharply; "unless you want this." His hand came from under the +sheet, and Crenshaw was looking into a levelled 38. Harleston had a pair +of them. + +"Beat it, my man!" Harleston snapped. "None of you are of much success +as burglars; you're not familiar with the trade. You're novices, rank +novices. Also myself. I'll give you until I count five, Crenshaw, to +make your adieux. One ... two ... No need for you two to hurry away--the +time 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 a +thing 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 can +pick up chunks of it and carry off." + +"Been asleep?" + +"I don't think!" she laughed. "I'm not minded to lose my job. Suppose +some peevish woman wanted a doctor and she couldn't raise me; do you +think 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's +one 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 deliberately +careful 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 to +be 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 her +age--being indifferent and strictly truthful?" + +"Not over twenty-eight--probably less!" she laughed. "And I've a notion +she'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 are +strangers 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 his +return, the men must have been in the building--unless they had come by +another way than the main entrance; which was the only entrance open +after midnight. If the former was the case, then someone on the outside +must 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 the +building since two A.M., and I should like to know confidentially +whether any one has communicated with an apartment since one thirty." + +The girl knew that Harleston was on intimate terms with the State +Department, and with the police, and she answered at once. + +"Save only yours, not a single in or out call has been registered since +twelve fifty-two when apartment No. 401 was connected for a short +while." + +"Who has No. 401?" + +"A Mr. and Mrs. Chartrand. It's one of the transient apartments; and +they 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 in +the time during the night. It was very brief, however; something about +him 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; it +was 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 that +time of night. In the daytime, I would not have even listened." + +"I understand," said Harleston. "Call me up, will you, if there are any +developments 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 an +automaton or a bit of dirt. You're different; most of the men are not so +bad; it's the women, Mr. Harleston, the women! Good-night, sir. I'll +call you if anything turns up." + +"All of which shows," reflected Harleston, as he returned to bed, "that +the 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 come +in or gone out, and no one had telephoned. Moreover, they also knew of +Harleston'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 telephone +message to No. 401 had to do with the occupant of the deserted cab and +the lost letter. Yet how to connect things? And why bother to connect +them? + +He did not care for the vanished lady of the cab--he had the letter and +the photograph; and because of them he was to have a talk with an +interesting young woman at five o'clock that afternoon. The cipher +letter, which was the much desired quantity, was safely across the hall, +waiting to be turned over to Carpenter, the expert of the State +Department, for translation. Meanwhile, what concerned Harleston was the +photograph of Madeline Spencer and her connection with the case--and to +know if the United States was concerned in the affair. + +At this point he turned over and calmly went to sleep. Tomorrow was +another day. + +He was aroused by a vigorous pounding on the corridor door. It was +seven-thirty o'clock. He yawned and responded to the summons--which grew +more 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 you +knock like a man?" + +"Here's your damn bouquet, also your envelope," said Stuart, "You +probably 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 a +great 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 more +seasonable hour. So long!" + +Harleston closed the door, and was half-way across the living-room when +there came another knock. + +Tossing the envelope and the faded roses on a nearby table, he stepped +back and swung open the door. + +Instantly, a revolver was shoved into his face, and Crenshaw sprang into +the 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 notice +the menacing automatic. + +"Come, no trifling!" Crenshaw snapped. "The envelope that the man from +the apartment across the corridor just handed you." + +Harleston laughed. "You are obsessed with the notion that I have +something of yours, Mr. Crenshaw." + +"_The letter!_" exclaimed Crenshaw. + +"That envelope is addressed to me, sir; it's not the one you seem to +want." + +"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 door +of the living-room, "I'll let you see the envelope; I've not the +slightest objection. Put up your gun, man; I'm not dangerous." + +"You're not so long as I've got the drop on you!" Crenshaw laughed +sneeringly. "Get back, man, get back; to the far side of the table--the +far side, do you hear--while I examine the envelope yonder beside the +roses. The roses are very familiar, Mr. Harleston. I've seen them +before." + +Harleston, retreating hastily, backed into a chair and fell over it. + +"All right, stay there, then!" said Crenshaw, and reached for the +letter. + +As he did so, Harleston's slippered foot shot out and drove hard into +the other's stomach. With a grunt Crenshaw doubled up from pain. The +next 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 the +fingers sent the automatic flying. + +"If it were not for spoiling the devil's handiwork, my fine friend, I'd +smash your face," Harleston remarked. + +"Smash it!" the other panted. "I'll promise--to smash yours--at the +first opportunity." + +"Which latter smashing won't be until some years later," Harleston +retorted, as he turned Crenshaw over. Bearing on him with all his +weight, he loosed his own pajama-cord and tied the man's hands behind +him. Next he kicked off his pajama trousers, and with them bound +Crenshaw's ankles. Then he dragged him to a chair and plunked him into +it, securing him there by a strap. + +"It's scarcely necessary to gag you," he remarked pleasantly. "In your +case, 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 I +find." + +"Find?" + +Harleston nodded. "In your pockets." + +"You dog!" Crenshaw burst out, straining at his bonds. "You miserable +whelp! What do you think to find?" + +"I'm not thinking," Harleston smiled; "it isn't necessary to speculate +when one has all the stock, you know." Then his face hardened. + +"One who comes into another's residence in the dead of night, revolver +in hand and violence in his intention, can expect no mercy and should +receive none. You're an ordinary burglar, Crenshaw and as such the law +will view you if I turn you over to the police. You think I found a +letter in an abandoned cab at 18th and Massachusetts Avenue early this +morning, and instead of coming like a respectable man and asking if I +have it and proving your property--do you hear, proving _your_ +property--you play the burglar and highwayman. Evidently the letter +isn't yours, and you haven't any right or claim to it. I have been +injected into this matter; and having been injected I intend to +ascertain what can be found from your papers. Who you are; what your +object; who are concerned beside yourself; and anything else I can +discover. 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, nor +what this all means; though I might guess some things. It's to obviate +guessing, as far as possible, that I am about to examine such evidence +as you may have with you." + +Crenshaw was so choked with his anger that for a moment he merely +sputtered--then he relapsed into furious silence, his dark eyes glowing +with 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 or +croquet. 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," gritted +Crenshaw. "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 your +pockets. 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 every +article." + +Crenshaw's only answer was a contemptuous shrug. + +A goodly wad of yellow backs of large denominations, and some visiting +cards, no two of which bore the same name, were the contents of the +pocketbook. + +"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 in +Crenshaw's pocket. + +"It's unwise to carry so much money about you," he remarked; "it induces +spending, 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 need +it. Now for the other pockets." + +The coat yielded nothing additional; the waist-coat, only a few matches +and an open-faced gold watch, which Harleston inspected rather carefully +both inside and out; the trousers, a couple of handkerchiefs with the +initial C in the corner, some silver, and a small bunch of keys--and in +the fob pocket a crumpled note, with the odour of carnations clinging to +it. + +Harleston glanced at Crenshaw as he opened the note--and caught a sly +look in his eyes. + +"Something doing, Crenshaw?" he queried. + +Another shrug was Crenshaw's answer--and the sly look grew into a sly +smile. + +The note, apparently in a woman's handwriting, was in French, and +contained five words and an initial: + + _À l'aube du jour. + M._ + +Harleston looked at it long enough to fix in his mind the penmanship and +to mark the little eccentricities of style. Then he folded it and put it +in 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?" Crenshaw +exclaimed. + +"Why not?" And when Crenshaw did not reply: "Wherein are you different +from any other felon taken red-handed--except that you were taken twice +in 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 it +will!" + +"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. He +himself answered. + +"Major Ranleigh, this is Harleston. I'd like to have a man report to me +at the Collingwood at once.--No; one will be enough, thank you. Have him +come right up to my apartment. Good-bye!--Now if you'll excuse me for a +brief time, Mr. Crenshaw, I'll get into some clothes--while you think +over the question whether you will explain or go to prison." + +"You will not dare!" Crenshaw laughed mockingly. "Your State Department +won't stand for it a moment when they hear of it--which they'll do at +ten o'clock, if I'm missing." + +"Let me felicitate you on your forehandedness," Harleston called from +the next room. "It's admirably planned, but not effective for your +release." + +"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 did +stumble on the deserted cab this morning, wholly by accident; I was on +my way here. I did find in it a letter and these roses, and I brought +them 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 for +translation. What I want to know is: first--what is the message of the +letter, if you know; second--who was the woman in the cab, and the facts +of the episode; third--what governments, if any, are concerned." + +"You're amazingly moderate in your demands," Crenshaw sarcasmed; "so +moderate, indeed, that I would acquiesce at once but for the fact that +I'm wholly ignorant of the contents of the letter. The name of the +woman, and the episode of the cab are none of your affair; nor do the +names of parties, whether personal or government, concern you in the +least." + +"Very well. We'll close up the cards and play the game. The first thing +in the game, as I said a moment ago, Crenshaw, is not to squeal when you +are 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 at +attention and saluted. If he saw the bound man in the chair, his eyes +never 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 prevent +any attempt at escape or rescue, even though you are obliged to use the +utmost force. I'm for down-town now; and I will communicate with you at +the 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," Harleston +replied; and picking up his stick he departed, the letter and the +photograph 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, if +you have time either to say it or write it. The Secretary of State +resided on it, and, as chance had it, he was descending the front steps +as Harleston came along. + +Now the Secretary was duly impressed with all the dignity of his +official position, and he rarely failed to pull it on the ordinary +individual--cockey would be about the proper term. In Harleston, +however, he recognized an unusual personage; one to whom the Department +was wont to turn when all others had failed in its diplomatic problems; +who had some wealth and an absolutely secure social position; who +accepted no pecuniary recompense for his service, doing it all for pure +amusement, 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 and +play 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 to +consult you about a matter which arose last night, or rather early this +morning. I was bound for your office now. I can, however, give you the +main 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. If +Carpenter can translate the cipher message, it will--" + +"The Department has full faith in your diagnosis, Harleston. You're the +surgeon; 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 American +Beauty 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 early +morning, finishing his account in the Secretary's private office. + +"Most amazing!" the latter reflected, eyes half-closed as though seeing +a 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 throwing +our friend, the King of Valeria, out of his Archdukeship, and later from +his throne. I remember the matter most distinctly. I was a friend of the +Dalberg family of the Eastern Shore, and of Armand Dalberg himself." He +paused, and looked again at the picture. "H-u-m! She is a very beautiful +woman, Harleston, a very beautiful woman! I think I have never seen her +equal; certainly never her superior. These dark-haired, classic +featured ones for me, Harleston; the pale blonde type does not appeal. +The peroxides come of that class." Again the photograph did duty. "I +could almost wish that she were the lost lady of the cab of the sleeping +horse--so that I might see her in the flesh. I've never seen her, you +know." + +Harleston smoothed back a smile. The Secretary too was getting +sentimental over the lady, and he had never seen her; though he had +known of her rare doings; and those doings had, it appeared, had their +natural effect of enveloping her in a glamour of fascination because of +what she had done. + +"You've seen her?" the Secretary asked. + +"I've known her since she was Madeline Cuthbert. Since then she's had a +history. Possibly, taken altogether she's a pretty bad lot. And she is +not only beautiful; she's fascinating, simply fascinating; it's a rare +man, a very rare man, who can be with her ten minutes and not succumb to +her 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 has +occasion 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'll +acquaint her of your boasted immunity from her _beaux yeux_." + +"The latter isn't within the scope of your duty, sir," the Secretary +smiled. "Now we'll have Carpenter." + +He touched a button. + +A moment later Carpenter entered; a scholarly-looking man in the +fifties; bald as an egg, with the quiet dignity of bearing which goes +with a student, who at the same time is an expert in his particular +line--and knows it. He was the Fifth Assistant Secretary, had been the +Fifth Assistant and Chief of the Cipher Division for years. His superior +was not to be found in any capital in Europe. His business with the +secret service of the Department was to pull the strings and obtain +results; and he got results, else he would not have been continued in +office. His specialty, however, was ciphers; and his chief joy was in a +case that had a cipher at the bottom. Ciphers were his recreation, as +well as his business. + +The Secretary with a gesture turned him over to Harleston--and Harleston +handed 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 to +the light, and carefully feeling its texture. + +"Not a great deal cursorily," he answered. "It's a French paper--the +sort, I think, used at the Quay d'Orsay. Have you the envelope +accompanying it?" + +"Here it is!" said Harleston. + +"This envelope, however, is not French; it's English," Carpenter said +instantly. "See! a saltire within an orle is the private water-mark of +Sergeant & Co. I likely can tell you more after careful examination in +my workshop." + +"How about the message itself?" Harleston asked. + +"It is the Vigenèrie cipher, that's reasonably certain; and, as you are +aware, Mr. Harleston, the Vigenèrie is practically impossible of +solution without the key-word. It is the one cipher that needs no +code-book, nor anything else that can be lost or stolen--the code-word +can be carried in one's mind. We used it in the De la Porte affair, you +will remember. Indeed, just because of its simplicity it is used more +generally by every nation than any other cipher." + +"I thought that you might be able to work it out," said Harleston. "You +can 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 the +key-word--French, Italian, Spanish, English? The message is written on +French paper, enclosed in an English envelope.--However, the facts you +have 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 Harleston +had concluded. "Everyone concerned is English or American; the men who +descended upon you so peculiarly and foolishly, and who showed their +inexperience in every move, were Americans, I take it, as was also the +woman who telephoned you. Moreover, she is fighting them." + +"Then your idea is that the United States is not concerned in the +matter?" the Secretary asked. + +"Not directly, yet it may be very much concerned in the result. We will +know more about it after Mr. Harleston has had his interview with the +lady." + +"That's so!" the Secretary reflected. "We shall trust you, Harleston, to +find out something definite from her. Keep me advised if anything turns +up. 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 before +you." + +"Maybe I have--and maybe I haven't!" Harleston laughed--and he and +Carpenter went out, passing the French Ambassador in the anteroom. + +Harleston went straight to Police Headquarters. The Chief was waiting +for him. + +"I had Thompson, your cab driver, here," said Ranleigh, "and he tells a +somewhat unusual but apparently straight tale; moreover, he is a very +respectable negro, well known to the guards and the officers on duty +around Dupont Circle, and they regard him as entirely trustworthy. He +says that last evening about nine o'clock, when he was jogging down +Connecticut Avenue on his way home--he owns his rig--he was hailed by a +fare in evening dress, top coat, and hat, who directed him to drive west +on Massachusetts Avenue. In the neighbourhood of Twenty-second Street, +the fare signalled to stop and ordered him to come to the door. There he +asked him to hire the horse and cab until this morning, when they would +be returned to him at that point. Thompson naturally demurred; whereupon +the man offered to deposit with him in cash the value of the horse and +cab, to be refunded upon their return in the morning less fifty dollars +for their hire. This was too good to let slip and Thompson acquiesced, +fixing the value at three hundred and fifty dollars, which sum the man +skinned off a roll of yellow-backs. Then the fare buttoned his coat +around him, jumped on the box, and drove east on Massachusetts Avenue. +This morning the horse and cab were backed up to the curb at their +customary stand in Dupont Circle, where they were found by officer +Murphy shortly after daybreak; before he could report the absence of the +driver, Thompson came up and explained." + +"Can Thompson describe the man?" Harleston asked. + +"Merely that he was clean-shaved, medium-sized, somewhat stout, wore +evening clothes, and was, apparently, a gentleman. Thompson thinks +however, that he could readily recognize the man, so we should let him +have a look at the fellow that's under guard in your apartment." + +"It isn't he," Harleston explained. "He's slender, with a mustache and +imperial. 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's +not 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-past +one this morning, when I found the cab deserted at Eighteenth Street and +Massachusetts Avenue, with the horse lying in the roadway, asleep in the +shafts...." + +"What do you wish the police to do, Mr. Harleston?" the Superintendent +asked at the end. + +"Nothing, until I've seen the Lady of Peacock Alley. Then I'll likely +know something definite--whether to keep hands off or to get busy." + +"Shan't we even try to locate the two men, in preparation for your +getting busy?" + +"H'm!" reflected Harleston. "Do it very quietly then. You see, I don't +know 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 are +three Americans engaged in what bears every appearance of being a +diplomatic matter, and of which our State Department knows nothing?" + +"There's a woman in it, I believe; likely two, possibly three!" was the +smiling reply. + +"Hump!" said Harleston. "A woman is at the bottom of most things, that's +a fact; she's about the only thing for which a man will betray his +country. However, as they're three men there should be three women--" + +"One woman is enough--if she is sufficiently fascinating and plays the +men 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 to +meet this afternoon; the unknown who left the Collingwood so +mysteriously; and the one of the photograph. If the other two are as +lovely as she of the photograph they are some trio. I shouldn't care for +the latter lady to tempt me overlong." + +"Wise man!" Harleston remarked, as he arose to go. "I'll advise you +after the interview. Meanwhile you might have the cabby look at the +fellow 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 to +Harleston to remain. After a moment, he motioned for Harleston to come +closer 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 a +bit of a drawl. + +"Very well," Ranleigh replied. "If you will give me your name--I missed +it. Whom am I to expect at three?" + +"Mrs. Winton, of the Burlingame apartments. I'll be punctual--and thank +you so much. Good-bye!" + +"Anything familiar about the voice?" Ranleigh asked, pushing back the +instrument. + +Harleston shook his head in negation. + +"I thought it might be your Lady of Peacock Alley, for it's about the +cab matter. She says that she has something to tell me regarding a +mysterious cab on Eighteenth Street last night sometime about one +o'clock." + +"There are quite too many women in this affair," Harleston commented. +"However, the Burlingame is almost directly across the street from where +I 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 see +and 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 into +the small room at the rear, provided with every facility for seeing what +went on and overhearing and reducing what was said in the +Superintendent's private office. + +Promptly at three, Mrs. Winton was announced by appointment, and was +instantly admitted. + +She was about thirty years of age, slender, with dark hair and a face +just missing beauty. She was gowned in black, with a bunch of violets at +her waist, and she wore a large mesh veil, through which her +particularly fine dark eyes sparkled discriminatingly. + +The Superintendent arose and bowed graciously. Ranleigh was a gentleman +by birth and by breeding. + +"What can I do for you, Mrs. Winton?" he asked, placing a chair for +her--where her face would be in full view from the cabinet. + +"You can do nothing for me, sir," she replied, with a charming smile. "I +came to you as head of the Police Department for the purpose of +detailing what I saw in connection with the matter I mentioned to you +over the telephone. It may be of no value to you--I even may do wrong in +volunteering my information, but--" + +"On the contrary," the Superintendent interjected, "you confer a great +favour on this Department by reporting to it any suspicious +circumstances. It is for it to investigate and determine whether they +call 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 to +the Burlingame. My apartment is on the third floor front. Instead of +going to bed at once, I sat down at the open window to enjoy the gentle +breeze. I must have dozed, for I was aroused by a cab coming up +Eighteenth and stopping before the large, grey-stone house opposite--the +rest 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 I +notice these things--casually of course, as one does. I watched the cab +with languid interest; saw the driver descend from the box, which seemed +a bit peculiar; but when, instead of going to the door of the cab, he +went up the front steps and into the house--the door of which he opened +with a key that he took from his pocket--my curiosity was aroused. A +moment later, a man in evening dress came leisurely out and sauntered to +the 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 the +cab, 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 to +the cab that they were hidden from me; when they reappeared, they were +carrying a woman--or her body--between them. They hurriedly crossed the +sidewalk mounted the steps, and the house-door closed behind them +instantly. The noise of the door seemed to arouse the horse, doubtless +he took it for the door of the cab, and he started slowly up the street +toward Massachusetts Avenue. After walking a short distance, and in +front of a vacant lot near the corner, he halted--obviously he realized +that no one was holding the lines, and he was waiting for his driver to +return. Just then one of the men put his head out of the doorway, saw +that the horse was no longer before the house, and dodged quickly back. +I waited for further developments from the house. None came, except that +in 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, and +apparently went to sleep. Disturbed by the occurrence, and debating what +I ought to do, I sat a while longer; and I must have dozed again, for +when I awoke the house was dark, and a man, a strange man, I think, was +standing beside the cab, and the horse was up. The man was gathering the +reins; he fastened them to the driver's seat, spoke to the horse, and +the horse moved off and into Massachusetts Avenue toward Dupont Circle. +The man watched him for a moment; then turned and went down +Massachusetts Avenue. After waiting a short while, I went to bed. This +morning, I decided it was well for you to know of the episode." + +"And you have told it wonderfully well, Mrs. Winton," said the +Superintendent, "wonderfully well, indeed." + +"You don't know how often I rehearsed," she laughed, "nor how much of +the essentials I may have omitted!" + +"Not much, I fancy. However, you'll not object, I suppose, to answering +a few questions as to details." + +"I wish you to ask anything that suggests itself," she replied. "I've an +appointment at the Chateau at five; just give me time to keep it." + +"We'll get through long before five!" the Superintendent smiled, though +his shrewd grey eyes were coldly critical. It was most unlikely that she +was the Lady of Peacock Alley; yet all things are possible where a woman +is concerned, as he knew from experience. "About what time was it when +the 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 and +the 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 his +watch. + +"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 depends +much on what you're doing at the moment. Last night when you were +watching, not estimating, you probably were nearer right as to the +interval. When, may I ask, did the driver reappear?" + +"He didn't reappear--at least that I saw; he may have come out of the +house 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 the +case--her appearance--how she was dressed--anything to aid us in +identifying her?" + +"I'm afraid I can't be of much help," Mrs. Winton replied. "She was, I +think, clad in a dark street gown. In the uncertain electric light, I +could not distinguish the colour--and the men were so close to her I had +little 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 before +tonight?" + +"I saw no one but the servants--though I didn't look quite all the +time," she added with a smile. "I'm not unduly curious, I think, Major +Ranleigh, under the, to me, unusual circumstances; and in mitigation of +my curiosity, I've told no one of the matter." + +"You're a woman of rare discretion, Mrs. Winton," the Superintendent +replied. + +"I fear I'm a busy-body," she returned. + +"I wish then there were more busy-bodies of your sort. Tell me, could +you recognize the men?" + +"Not with any assurance.--Neither could I recognize the occupants of the +house," she added. "The truth is, though you may doubt, that I scarcely +notice them; but one can't see a to-let-unfurnished sign on a house +opposite for six months, without remarking its sudden disappearance from +the landscape." + +"I should say that you wouldn't be normal if you didn't notice--and +comment, too," Ranleigh declared. "And the Department is much indebted +to you for the information, and it appreciates the spirit that moves you +in the matter." + +Mrs. Winton arose to go--the Superintendent accompanied her into the +hall, rang the bell for the elevator, and bowed her into it. + +"Don't you wish to know the result?" he inquired with a quizzical +smile, as he put her in the car. + +"I'm not unduly curious!" she laughed. + +When he returned, Harleston was standing in his office lighting a +cigarette. + +"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 story +till its truth is established--and then I'm still in a receptive state +of mind. However, it does seem true, and Mrs. Winton herself supports +it; which is enough for the time." + +"At any rate, we've found the lady of the cab," Harleston remarked. "Or +rather we've located her as of one o'clock, which is shortly before I +happened on the scene." + +"Is there anything in the description that corresponds to the lady of +the photograph?" + +"It all corresponds; slight, above medium-height, dark gown--she affects +dark gowns;--but thousands of women are slight, above medium-height, and +wear 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 the +Chateau at five, and her being gowned in black?" + +"A mere coincidence, I think. What would be her object in telling this +story to you between three and four o'clock, and meeting me at five to +recover the lost document." + +"Search me! I'm sure only of this: there are too many women in this +affair, Mr. Harleston, too many women! Man is a reasoning being and +somewhat 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 five +o'clock, paused on the landing above the marble stairs inside the F +Street entrance and surveyed the motley throng--busy with looking and +being looked at, with charming and being charmed, with wondering and +being wondered at, with aping and being aped, with patronizing and being +patronized, with flattering and being flattered, with fawning and being +fawned upon, with deceiving and being deceived, with bluffing and being +bluffed, with splurging, with pretending, with every trick and artifice +and sham and chicanery that society and politics know, or can fancy. + +Harleston was familiar with it all for too many years even to accord it +a glance of contemptuous indifference--when he had anything else to +occupy his mind; and just now his mind was on a lady in black with +three American Beauties on the gown. + +He went slowly down the steps to the main corridor and joined the +buzzing, kaleidoscopic crowd. + +Somewhere on the floor above, an orchestra was playing for the +_dansant_; and the music came fitfully through the chatter and +confusion. He nodded to some acquaintances, bowed formally to others, +shook hands when it could not be avoided; all the while progressing +slowly 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 next +instant the rift closed. However, he knew now that she was here and +where to find her, and he made his way through the press toward where +she was waiting for him. + +Then the crowd suddenly opened--as crowds do--and he saw, on the same +side of the corridor and scarcely ten feet apart, two slender women in +black and wearing red roses; one was Mrs. Winton, the other he had never +seen. + +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 was +waiting for him? He knew neither, but there was the chance that the one +he was to meet knew him. + +And so he adventured it, walking slowly toward them, and taking care +that 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 his +stick, and looked at him unrecognizingly. As her eyes came down they +rested on the other woman. + +She gave a subdued exclamation, arose and threaded her way to the +opposite 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, at +least, both were good to look at; they must be good to look at in this +business, 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 hand +and 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 to +town?" + +"Only yesterday! You live in Washington, now, don't you?" + +"Yes, off and on. It's my headquarters for refitting and starting +afresh. 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 up +the 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's +prettier 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, then +stared coldly at his companion; the men too stared at her--but not +coldly--and when they thought about it, which was seldom of late, nodded +to him, and resumed their staring. + +And Harleston did not wonder--indeed, had it been otherwise, it would +have argued a sudden paucity of appreciation on the part of the smart +set there assembled. For this slender young person in black, a small hat +on her head, topping hair of flaming red, an exquisite figure and a +charming 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 know +it; which in this day of smug and blatant personal appreciation of one's +good points--feminine points--is something of a rarity in the sex. It +may be, however that Madame X was fully aware of her beauty, but she was +modest about it, or seemed to be; which amounts to the same thing. + +They sat down at a remote table and Harleston ordered two cold +drinks--an apollinaris with a dash of lemon for her, a Jerry Hill for +himself. He noticed that the men were looking and wavering and he +deliberately turned his chair around and gave them his back. He had no +objection to presenting the Lady of Peacock Alley to his men friends, +but just at this time it was not convenient. The adventure was rather +unusual, and the lady altogether attractive and somewhat fascinating; he +chose, for the present at least, to go it alone. Moreover, they were to +meet on a matter of her business and by her appointment. + +He had suggested the _dansant_ that he might study her. And the more he +saw of her, the more he was struck by her unaffected naturalness and +apparent sincerity. Not a word, not even a suggestion while they were +dancing, of the matter of the cab; it was as though she were just an old +friend. And her dancing was a delight--such a delight, indeed, that he +was reluctant to have it end. Somehow, one gets to know quickly one's +partner in the _dansant_. + +"This is perfectly entrancing, Mr. Harleston," she said presently, "but +don't you think we would better hunt a retired corner and discuss other +matters?" + +"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 the +character of the discussion." + +Her smile grew into a quiet, rippling laugh. + +"Come along," she answered. "I've found a secluded nook in the big +red-room downstairs. It's cozy and nice, and I've had the maid reserve +it for me. Afterwards," with a sharp stab of her brown eyes, "I'll +decide whether I'll dine with you." + +The place was as she had said, cozy and nice and secluded; and he put +her 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 left +off last night. Your last remark then was that I had a chance to get the +articles, 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 to +them, or the right of possession to them; whether they concern private +matters or public matters; if the latter, whether the United States is +concerned." + +"We can assume the first," said she. "I know for a fact that you took +the articles in question from the cab, which you found deserted before a +vacant lot." + +"How do you know it?" Harleston asked. + +"Because, as I told you over the telephone, you were seen--in fact, I +saw you. I saw you light a match inside the cab, come out with the +envelope, look it over quickly, and put it in your pocket. You'll admit +these 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't +that 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 its +contents were left with me for delivery to another party--which I +believe 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 title +would be no better than you've put in me; not so good, in fact, for +according to your tale I have the envelope." + +She shrugged again. + +"Now as to your third contingency," she went on, "I am not able to say +what is the nature of the document, nor whom nor what nation it +concerns." + +"You mean that you're ignorant of its contents and its nature?" he +asked. + +She met his glance frankly. "I mean that I haven't any idea of its +contents 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 the +table--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 his +own--and she let him. + +"It's mighty pretty," he said, with assumed gravity. "Am I to have it +in 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 far +as 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 the +photograph? It was a queer situation? the reasonable inferences were +against 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 an +innocent associate. And it was not difficult to do, sitting there beside +her in the subdued light, under the witching tones of her voice, and the +alluring fascination of her face. The face was not perfect; far from it, +if by perfect is meant features accordant with one another and true to +type. Her hair was flaming red; her eyes were brown, dark brown, a +certain pensiveness in them most inaccordant with the hair; her nose was +slender, with sensitive nostrils; her mouth was generous with lips a +trifle full; her teeth were exquisitely white and symmetrical--and she +showed them with due modesty, yet with proper appreciation of their +beauty. + +Altogether she was a very charming picture; and throwing away his +cigarette, he lighted a cigar and settled back to watch the play of her +features and hear the melody of her voice. He was a trifle impressed +with the lady--and he was willing that the tale require time and +attention. Furthermore, it was his business to observe her critically, +so that he might decide as to the matter in hand. In the present +instance his business was very much to his liking, but that did not make +it any the less business. + +Something of which the lady may have suspected and was prepared to +humour. A man must be humoured at times--particularly when the woman is +trying for something that can only be come at through his favour or +acquiescence. + +"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 little +enough 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 by +the middle door, and crossed to a divan in the corner farthest from Mrs. +Clephane and Harleston. The former had her back to them; Harleston was +facing their way and saw them. + +The man was middle-aged, bald, and somewhat stout--and Harleston +recognized one of his visitors of the early morning. The woman was +sinuous, with raven hair, dead white complexion, a perfectly lovely +face, and a superb figure. Harleston would have known that walk and that +figure 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 if +considering where to begin her story. + +"Do you know the two who just came in and are sitting in the far +corner," he asked; "the slender woman and the bald-headed man?" + +"No," she answered; "except that she is an exceedingly fine-looking +woman--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, which +means, to be accurate, about ten days ago, I took a steamer at +Cherbourg for New York. On the boat was a Madame Durrand, whom I had +known on the Continent and in London for a number of years. Neither was +aware of the other's sailing until we met aboard. I think that it was on +the fourth day out she asked me to come to her state-room; there she +told me that she was a secret agent of the French Government and the +bearer of a most important letter from a high official, written however +in his private capacity to their Ambassador in Washington; that she had +a presentiment ill fortune would befall her on the way; that there was +no one else on the ship in whom she trusted; and that she wanted me to +accompany her to Washington, and, if she were to meet with an accident, +to deliver the letter to the Ambassador. I consented, wishing to oblige +her, and being bound for Washington. She showed me where she carried the +letter, and gave me the verbal message that went with it, which was the +name of the Minister and that he sent it in his private capacity and not +officially. + +"I'm not in the secret service of a government, as you doubtless can +infer from my knowledge of matters and use of technical language!" she +smiled. "And the affair rather fascinated me, I admit, by its +unusualness. Moreover, I knew Madame Durrand intimately--how intimately +may be inferred from the circumstances. + +"Well, we landed, had our baggage chalked, and went to the Plaza for the +night. In the morning, we took a taxi to the Pennsylvania Station, were +held up by traffic, and were hurrying down the marble steps to catch our +train, when a man, hurrying also, jostled Madame Durrand. Her heel +caught and she plunged head first down to the landing. Of course men +sprang forward to her assistance and picked her up--with her wrist and +ankle broken. She was plucky, however, wonderfully plucky. She did not +faint, as I'm sure I should have done; she just turned ghastly pale--and +said to me, with a bit of smile, motioning for me to bend over her so +that none could hear: + +"'I told you so, Edith. Here is where you come in.' She slid her hand +under 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 hospital +and comfortable. And when she saw I meant it, she smiled--and fainted. +Well, instead of the ten o'clock train, I caught the twelve, which +should have landed me here at five, but a series of delays, due to +accidents ahead; put us at seven. It was, I thought, too late to deliver +my letter that evening, so I took a taxi here and had dinner. Then I +paid a short visit to some friends at the Shoreham and returned shortly +before midnight. I found two notices that I had been called on the +telephone at 10:15 and 11:00, by parties who declined to give their +names or leave a call. This struck me as queer since no one knew of my +being in town except my friends at the Shoreham. A moment after I +entered my room, the telephone rang. I answered. A man's voice came +back. + +"'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 to +come in fifteen minutes--we'll send a carriage for you?' + +"'How did you know'--I began, then stopped. 'Yes, I'll be ready,' said +I; '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 matter +and I would see it through. I had not changed from my travelling suit +and it hadn't a pocket in it; nor had I one such as Madame Durrand +employed, so I was carrying the letter pinned inside my waist. Now I +took it out and put it in my hand-bag, all the while thinking over the +affair and liking it less the more I thought. It was pretty late at +night, and there was something suspicious about the affair. I went to +the 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 the +Shoreham. On the envelope I had written the instruction that it was not +to be delivered until morning. + +"As I finished, the telephone rang and Mr. and Mrs. Buissard, I think +that was the name, were announced as coming by appointment. I went down +at once. Mrs. Buissard was in evening dress, a pretty, vivacious woman, +Mr. Buissard was a man of thirty, slender, with a little black +moustache and black hair. Somehow I didn't like him; and I was glad he +had brought his wife--she was charming. + +"They had a cab instead of a car or taxi. We got in and drove up +Fourteenth to H, and out H to Sixteenth. As we swung in Sixteenth, the +man 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 and +twisted it tightly about my neck. + +"I tried to cry out, but a hand closed over my mouth and only a weak +gurgle responded. + +"'Listen, Mrs. Clephane!' said the man, 'We mean you no harm. Give us +the package you have for the French Ambassador, and we will at once +return you to your hotel.' + +"I'm pretty much a coward, yet I managed to hold myself together and not +faint, and to say nothing. I didn't care a straw for the letter, but I +didn't fancy being defeated at that stage of the game. I tried to +think--but thinking is a bit difficult under such circumstances. Just as +the wrap went over my head, my hand happened to be on my hand-bag. I +quietly opened it, dropped the letter close along the seat, and closed +the bag. Here was a slight chance to balk them--at all events, it was +the 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 the +last it stopped. I'm a trifle hazy as to what they did; but finally I +was passed out of the cab like a corpse and carried into a house. There +the wrap was removed from my head; I blinked uncertainly, and looked +around in a bewildered fashion. + +"'Where am I?' I gasped. + +"The woman replied, 'You're in absolutely no danger, Mrs. Clephane. We +want the package you have for the French Ambassador; when we have it, we +will 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 you +somewhere; 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 hotel +safe.' + +"'Will you permit yourself to be searched?' she asked, with an amused +smile. I knew it was a threat. + +"'I'm perfectly willing to submit to a search by _you_,' I said. 'The +quicker you set about it, the quicker I'll be released. I don't care for +these diplomatic affairs; they may be regular but they seem +unnecessarily dangerous. I was simply a substitute anyway, and I won't +substitute again; though how you people discovered it I don't see.' + +"'Because you're new at the game,' she replied, as we passed into the +drawing-room. + +"She closed the door--and I soon satisfied her that the package was not +concealed about me. + +"'I may go now?' I inquired. + +"'I think so, but I must consult the Chief,' she replied. 'I'll be back +in a minute.' + +"They seemed high-class knaves at least; but it was quite evident that +the diplomatic game and its secret service were distinctly not in my +line. I want no more of them even to oblige a friend in distress. I hate +a mess!" + +"I'm very glad for this mess," Harleston interjected. "Otherwise I +should not have--met you." + +"And you are the only compensation for the mess, Mr. Harleston!" she +smiled. + +She said it so earnestly Harleston was almost persuaded that she meant +it--though he replied with a shrug and a sceptical laugh. + +"But the woman was long in returning," Mrs. Clephane resumed; "and after +a 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 distance +to the left, and the horse was lying down in the shafts. As I was +debating whether to risk the jump from the window, a man came down the +street and halted at the cab.--That man was you, Mr. Harleston. The rest +of the tale you know much better than I--and the material portion you +are to tell me, or rather to give me." + +"How did you know the man at the cab was I? You didn't recognize me in +the corridor, this afternoon." + +"Oh, yes I did--but I waited to see if you would follow me, or would go +up to the other woman in black and roses." + +"I never was in doubt!" Harleston laughed. "I told you, on the +telephone, 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 that +you _did_ pick me out--and that you're a gentleman. Also you forget that +your picture has been pretty prominent lately, on account of the Du +Portal affair; and besides you've been pointed out to me a number of +times during the last few years as something of a celebrity. So, you +see, it was not a great trick to recognize you under the electric +lights, even at one o'clock in the morning." + +Harleston nodded. It was plausible surely. Moreover, he was prepared to +accept her story; thus far it seemed straightforward and extremely +credible. + +"It was about three when you telephoned to me--where were you then?" he +asked. + +"At the Chateau. They were kind enough to release me about three +o'clock, and to send me back in a private car--at least, it wasn't a +taxi. 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." She +held 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 I +ascertain, that the letter does not concern directly or indirectly the +diplomatic affairs of the United States. You forget that was the +concluding stipulation, Mrs. Clephane. Meanwhile the letter will not, +you may feel assured, fall into the possession of the party who +attempted to steal it from you." + +"What does it all mean?" she asked, leaning forward. "Who beside France +are the parties concerned?" + +"It means that some nation is ready to take desperate chances to prevent +your letter from reaching the French Ambassador. What actuates it, +whether to learn its contents or to prevent its present delivery, I +naturally do not know." Then he laughed. "Would it interest you very +much to learn, Mrs. Clephane, that I was visited last night by three +men, who tried, at the point of the revolver, to force the letter from +me?" + +"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--and +having acquitted her in that respect, there was scarcely any question as +to the sincerity and truth of her tale. + +As it has been remarked previously, Mrs. Clephane was very good to look +at--and what is more to the point with Harleston, she looked back. + +"I had all sorts of adventures, beginning with the cab of the sleeping +horse, three crushed roses, a bit of lace, and a letter," he laughed; +"and the adventures haven't yet ended, and they grow more interesting as +they 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 else +did she know--or didn't she know anything? Was it only his habit in +diplomatic affairs to doubt everything that was not undoubtable. + +"The letter," he replied, "is with the expert of the State Department +for translation." + +"What language is it in?" she demanded. + +"Cipher language--and a particularly difficult cipher it is. Can you +help us out, Mrs. Clephane?" + +"I can't, Mr. Harleston; I don't know anything about ciphers. And I told +you the whole truth when I said that I neither knew what the envelope +contained nor its purpose. What disturbs me is how to explain to the +French Ambassador the loss of the letter." + +"Tell him the exact truth," said Harleston. "It would have been better +possibly 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 State +Department. Now that it has passed out of my hands, it is a matter for +the Secretary to decide." + +"But he will be advised by you!" she exclaimed. + +"Advised, yes,--dominated, no. The only chance of the letter being +returned to you, is that it does not affect this government." + +"Diplomacy then is willing to stoop to any crime or to profit by any +wrong?" she mocked. + +"I am afraid I must admit the accusation. Everything is fair in love +and 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 the +letter by reason of that outrage?" + +"I'm afraid you'll find the wheels of justice very slow-moving--when +they have to do with affairs diplomatic." + +"But the letter, sir?" + +"You must remember, Mrs. Clephane, that I found the letter in an +abandoned cab." + +"And now that you know to whom it belongs," she flashed, "you will not +return it?" + +"Because I can't! Which brings us back to where we started--and to +dinner." + +"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, and +hurried out--conscious all the while that Madeline Spencer and her +companion were watching him. + +"This is Police Headquarters, Mr. Harleston," came the voice over the +wire. "Major Ranleigh wants to know if you will meet him at his office +at ten o'clock tonight. The Major was called out suddenly or he would +have telephoned you, himself!" + +"I'll be on hand," Harleston replied, hung up the receiver, and hurried +back. + +As he entered the red-room, he shot a covert glance toward the place +where Mrs. Spencer and her companion had been sitting. + +They were gone! + +"Yes! Yes!" said he under his breath, and turned toward the corner where +he had left Mrs. Clephane. + +Mrs. Clephane was gone. + + + + +IX + +DECOYED + + +Harleston faced about and surveyed the entire room. Then not content +with surveying, he deliberately walked through it, and satisfied himself +that Mrs. Clephane was not there--nor Madeline Spencer, nor her +bald-headed companion. + +He took a turn up and down the corridor, and up and down again. They +were not there. + +He even walked through the dining-rooms. + +Nothing! + +"Hum!" said he, at length--and returned to the red-room, and to his +chair. It was quite possible that Mrs. Clephane would be back in a +moment--yet somehow he doubted. + +He waited for a quarter of an hour, and she did not come. He made +another tour of Peacock Alley, the lobby, the dining-rooms, and back to +the red-room. + +Nothing! + +He looked at his watch--it was half-after-seven o'clock. He would wait +fifteen minutes longer. Then, if she had not come, he would go about his +business--which, at present, was to dine. + +He sat with his watch in his hand, looking down the room and at those +who entered. + +The fifteen minutes passed. He put up his watch and arose; the wait was +ended. + +He crossed the corridor to the dining-room. + +"The table in yonder corner, Philippe," he said, to the bowing +head-waiter. + +"One, Monsieur Harleston?" the man replied; and himself escorted him +over and placed him, and took his order for dinner. From which facts it +can be inferred that Harleston was something of a personage at the big +caravansary. + +The clams had just been placed before him, and he was dipping the first +one in the cocktail, when Madeline Spencer and the bald-headed man +entered and passed to a table--reserved for them--at the far side of the +room. Harleston knew that she saw him, though apparently she had not +glanced 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 clear +turtle. + +As Harleston took up his spoon, a page spoke a word to Philippe, who +motioned 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 he +picked it up and turned it over. It was a hotel envelope, and addressed +simply: "Mr. Harleston," in a woman's handwriting--full and free, and, +unusual to relate, quite legible. He ran his knife under the flap and +drew 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 good +enough to dine with me in my apartment. It's No. 972, and cosy and +quiet--and please come at once. I'm waiting for you--with an explanation +for my disappearance. + +"EDITH CLEPHANE." + +"Hum!" said Harleston, and drummed thoughtfully on the table. Then he +arose, said a word to Philippe as he passed, and went out to the +elevator. + +He got off at the ninth floor and walked down the corridor to No. 972. +It was a corner and overlooked Pennsylvania Avenue and Fourteenth +Street. He tapped lightly on the door; almost immediately it was opened +by a maid--a very pretty maid, he noticed--who, without waiting for him +to speak, addressed him as Monsieur Harleston and told him that Madame +was expecting him. + +Harleston handed the maid his hat, stick, and gloves, and crossed the +private hall into the drawing-room. + +As he passed the doorway, a heavy silk handkerchief was flung around his +neck from behind, and instantly tightened over his larynx; at the same +time his arms were pinioned to his side. He could neither make a sound +nor raise a hand. He was being garroted. At his first struggle the +garrote was twisted; it was be quiet or be strangled. And, queer as it +may seem, his first thought was of the garroters of India and the +instant helplessness of their victims. In fact, so immediate was his +helplessness, that it sapped all will to be otherwise than quiescent. + +"Two can play at this game, Mr. Harleston," said a familiar voice, and +Crenshaw stepped out in front. "I'm in a better humour now, and more my +natural self; I was somewhat peeved in the Collingwood--due to late +hours, I think. By the way, it isn't an especially pleasant game for the +fellow who is it, Mr. Harleston? I'll take your answer for granted--or +we'll let my distinguished colleague answer for you--you know Mr. +Sparrow, sir?" as the man with the garrote put his head over Harleston's +shoulder. "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 your +apartment, Mr. Harleston--and so I exchanged places with your +detective," Crenshaw explained. + +"I'm quite content, Mr. Crenshaw," Sparrow replied. + +"Yes, certainly, and thank you, Mr. Harleston," Crenshaw smiled. "And +now, with your permission, sir, we shall inspect the contents of your +pockets, to the end that we may find a certain letter that you wot +of--also ourselves." + +After the first warning twist, the garrote had been relaxed just enough +to permit Harleston breath sufficient for life, yet not sufficient for +an outcry; moreover, he knew that at the first murmur of a yell the +wrist behind him would turn and he would be throttled into +unconsciousness. + +There was nothing to do but be quiet and as complaisant as his captors +wished, and await developments. And the irony of such a +situation--happening in the most crowded and most popular hotel in the +Capital, with hundreds of guests at hand, and scores of servants poised +to obey one's slightest nod--struck him with all the force of its +supreme absurdity. It was but another proof of the proposition that one +is never so alone as in the midst of a throng. + +He smiled--somewhat chillily, it must be admitted--and whispered, his +speaking voice being shut off by the garrote. + +"The quicker you look, the sooner I shall, I hope, be released from this +rather 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 you +should know. Do I look so much like a novice? Furthermore, if I am not +mistaken, I told you that I was going direct to the State Department to +deliver the letter for translation so how could I have it now?" + +"We're not debating, we're searching," Crenshaw sneered; "though it may +occur to you that a copy is as easy of translation as the original. +However, we will proceed with the inspection--the proof of the caviare +is in the roe of the sturgeon." + +"Then I pray you open the fish at once," said Harleston. "I can't assist +you 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 believe +me when I say that I'm a bit hungry." + +"With your permission," Crenshaw replied, proceeding to go through +Harleston's pockets, and finding nothing but the usual--which he +replaced. + +He came last to the breast-pocket of the coat; in it were the wallet and +one 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'll +take the liberty of destroying it," tearing it into bits and putting the +bits in his pockets, "lest one of us be liable for forgery. Now for the +pocket-book; you found something in mine, you may remember, Mr. +Harleston." + +Harleston gave a faint chuckle. They would find nothing in his +pocket-book but some visiting and membership cards, a couple of +addresses and a few yellow-backs and silver certificates. + +"The letter doesn't seem to be there--which I much regret, but these +visiting cards may be useful in our business; with your permission I'll +take 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--I +believe I even promised to smash your face when I got the +opportunity--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 bonds +if you give me your word to remain quiet in this room until tomorrow +morning at eight, and not to disclose to anyone, before that hour, what +has 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 and +gag you and leave you to be discovered by the maid--which, we shall +carefully 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, feeling +behind him for the man with the garrote. He had him located now and the +precise position where he was standing--one of his own legs was touching +Sparrow's. + +At the instant Crenshaw had finished his question, Harleston suddenly +kicked backwards, landing with all the force of his sharp heel full on +Sparrow's shin. + +Instantly the garrote loosened; and Harleston, with a wild yell, sprang +forward and swung straight at the point of Crenshaw's jaw. + +Crenshaw dodged it--and the two men grappled and went down, fighting +furiously; Harleston letting out shouts all the while, and even managing +to overturn a table, which fell with a terrific smash of broken glass +and bric-à-brac, to attract attention and lead to an investigation. + +He had not much trouble in mastering Crenshaw; but Sparrow, when he was +done spinning around on one foot from the agonizing pain of the kick on +the shin, would be another matter; the two men and the woman could +overpower him, unless assistance came quickly. And to that end he raised +all the uproar possible for the few seconds that Sparrow spun and the +woman stared. + +Just as Sparrow hobbled to Crenshaw's aid, Harleston landed a short arm +blow on the latter's ear and sprang up, avoided the former's rush and +made for the hall-way. + +At the same moment came a loud pounding on the corridor door. The noise +had been effective. + +In a bound, Harleston reached the door; it should, as he knew, open from +within by a turn of the knob. But it was double-locked on the inside and +the key was missing. + +He whirled--just in time to see the last of the mixed trio disappear +into 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 he +could attract the attention of those in the corridor and make himself +understood. Then more time was consumed in getting the floor-maid with +the 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 at +the head of the relief; and he was not in the best of temper when he +entered and saw the debris of the bric-à-brac and the table. + +"What is the meaning of--" he demanded--then he recognized Harleston and +stopped--"I beg your pardon, Mr. Harleston! I didn't know that you were +here, sir; this apartment was occupied by--" + +"Two men and a woman," Harleston supplied. "Well, it's been vacated by +them 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 to +explain as much as I know." + +"Certainly, Mr. Harleston," the man replied; and, directing the others +to examine the baggage, he closed the door of the drawing-room. + +"First tell me who occupied this suite, when it was taken, and when they +came," said Harleston. + +"One moment," said the manager, and picking up the telephone he called +the office. "It was, the office says, occupied by a Mr. and Mrs. +Davidson of New York City, who took it this afternoon about five +o'clock. They had made no reservation for it." + +"Now as to their baggage." + +The manager bowed and went out--to return almost instantly, a puzzled +expression on his face. + +"Two new and cheap suit cases, each containing a couple of bricks and +some waste paper," he reported. + +"Yes," nodded Harleston, "I thought as much. Mr. Banks, you will confer +a favour on me, and possibly on the government, if you will be good +enough to let this affair pass unnoticed, at least for the time. I'll +pay for the broken table and its contents, and a proper charge for the +rooms 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 the +occupants, and why the furniture was smashed, and why I have a slight +contusion in my cheek, and anything else occurring to the management as +requiring 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 out +since 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 the +hotel, has disappeared. I was talking to her in the red-room at about +6:30, when I was called to the telephone. On my return, after a brief +absence, she was gone, and a frequent and thorough search on the first +floor did not disclose her. She was to have dined with me at +seven-thirty. She did not keep the engagement. I dined alone, and had +just begun the meal when a letter was handed to me asking that I dine +with her in her apartment, No. 972. I came here at once--and was held up +by two men and a woman, who sought to obtain something that they +imagined was in my possession. It wasn't, however, and we fought; and I +raised sufficient disturbance to bring you. You see, I have told you +something of the affair. The note was a forgery. This isn't Mrs. +Clephane's apartment, and her maid has just told me that her mistress +has not been in her apartment since five o'clock--which was the time she +met me. I am persuaded that she is a prisoner, and likely in this +hotel--held so to prevent her disclosing a certain matter to a certain +high official. What I want is for you to make every effort to determine +whether she is in this house." + +"We'll do it, Mr. Harleston," the manager acquiesced instantly. "Come +down to the office and we'll go over the guest diagram, while I have +every unoccupied room looked into. In fact, sir, we'll do anything short +of burglaring our guests." + +"I'll be right down," Harleston said; "after I've bathed my face and +straightened up a bit." + +The contusion on his cheek was not particularly noticeable; it might be +worse in the morning; his collar was a trifle crushed and his hair was +awry; 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 far +as possible, the cheek-bone, and went down to the private office. + +There was, of course, the chance that Mrs. Clephane had lured him into +the trap, and had herself written the decoy note; but he did not +believe her guilty. Even though Crenshaw had adroitly implicated her, +he was not influenced. Indeed, he was convinced of just the +reverse:--that she was honest and sincere and inexperienced, and that +she had told him the true story of the letter and its loss. At least he +was acting on that theory, and was prepared to see it through. Maybe he +was a fool to believe those brown eyes and that soft voice and those +charming 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, encountered +many women with beautiful faces and compelling eyes and alluring voices +and 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 whether +she was married, a widow, or a divorcée. Whatever she was, he was +willing to accept her as genuine--until she was proven otherwise. + +All of which would indicate that she had made something of an impression +on Harleston--who was neither by nature nor by experience impressible +and, in the diplomatic game, had about as much sentiment as a granite +crag. In fact, with Harleston every woman who appeared in the +diplomatic 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 another +tour of the rooms and corridor on the first floor. + +It was without avail--save that he noticed Madeline Spencer and her +escort were still at dinner. They did not see him--and he was very well +content. Later he would want a word with them--particularly with her; +and he preferred to meet her alone. She was a very beautiful woman, and +very alluring, and the time was, and not so long ago, when he would have +gone far out of his way to meet her; but another face--and +business--occupied him at present. Moreover, the business had to do with +Mrs. 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. Clephane +is not to be seen." + +"We paged her, also," returned Banks; "and we've had every vacant room +in the house examined without result. Here's the diagram; let us go over +it, perhaps we can get a lead from it. About half of the guests are +personally known to the hotel; they are either permanent guests or have +been coming here for a long time. However, pick out any that you suspect +and we'll try to find a way to get into their rooms. We are always at +the 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 own +names. He found it at last--or thought he had: No. 717:--Madame Cuthbert +and maid. + +"What do you know of her?" he asked, indicating No. 717. + +"Nothing whatever, except that she seems to have plenty of money, and +looks 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-headed +man 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," Harleston +muttered--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 to +impossible to find her. There were a hundred well-dressed and +quiet-mannered guests who seemed beyond suspicion; and yet it was in the +room of one of these unobtrusive guests, who had never so much as looked +at Mrs. Spencer, that Mrs. Clephane was held prisoner. There was small +hope--none, indeed--that a search of Madeline Spencer's apartment would +yield even a clue. She was not such a bungler; though that she was the +directing spirit in the entire affair he had not the least doubt. Her +photograph fixed the matter on her; and while he was quite sure she was +not aware of the photograph, yet she was aware of the letter, had made a +desperate effort to prevent its delivery, and now was making a final +effort to prevent Mrs. Clephane from advising the French Ambassador of +its loss. + +As to him, Mrs. Spencer was not concerned. His possession of the letter, +under such circumstances, effectually closed his mouth; if he happened +to know for whom the letter was intended, his mouth was closed all the +tighter. It was a rule of the diplomatic game never to reveal, even to +an ally, what you know; tomorrow the ally may be the enemy. Harleston +might yield the letter to superior force or to trickery, but he would +never babble of it. + +The door opened to admit Banks. + +"The detective has nothing whatever as to Madame Cuthbert," he +explained. "He says she is apparently a lady, and nothing has occurred +to bring her under his notice. For the same reason, no list of her +callers has been made--though the desk thinks that they have been +comparatively 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 the +hotel--room No. 410." + +"Can you have her apartment and Martin's looked over without exciting +suspicion?" + +"I think we can manage it," Banks responded. "Indeed, I think we can +manage to have all the rooms inspected; I have already told the +detective what we suspect, and he has put on an employee's uniform and +with a basket of electric bulbs is now testing the lights in every +occupied room. The moment he finds Mrs. Clephane, or anything that +points to her, he will advise us." + +"Good!" said Harleston. "Meanwhile, I'll have another look in Peacock +Alley." + +He was aware that he was acting on a pure hunch. He realized that his +theory of Mrs. Clephane's imprisonment in the house was most +inconsistent with the facts. Why did they release her last night, if +they were fearful of her communicating to the French Ambassador the loss +of the letter? And why should they take her again this evening? It was +all unreasonable; yet reason does not prevail against a hunch--even to a +reasoning man, who is also a diplomat. + +He sauntered along the gay corridor bowing to those he knew. As he +faced about to return, he saw Madeline Spencer, alone, bearing down upon +him. + +The moment their eyes met, she signalled a glad smile and advanced with +hands extended. + +"Why, Guy!" she exclaimed. "What a surprise this is!" + +"And what a charming pleasure to me, Madeline," he added, taking both +her hands and holding them. "I thought you were in Paris; indeed, I +thought 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 those +who have knowledge of the comparatively recent past, Madeline Spencer +may be a _persona non_. However--" with a shrug of her shapely shoulders +and 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 assume +that here you have a reputation to protect." + +"I'm quite sure that my reputation, whatever it be, won't suffer by +what 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 we +met." + +"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 and +instantly. + +"Wireless," she laughed, "or community of interests?" + +"I don't know--the impression was vivid enough, while it lasted, for you +to 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 went +on. 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 to +declare?" + +"Both!" she laughed. "Now quit talking nonsense and tell me about +yourself. What have you been doing, and what are you doing?" + +"At the very profitable and busy occupation of killing time," he +replied. + +"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 a +seemly 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 should +think the episode of the cab, with what followed at your apartment, was +very 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 roses +and the cab?" + +"You know that I wasn't!" she replied. + +"Then how do you know of the cab of the sleeping horse, and what +followed?" he inquired blandly. + +"I dreamed it." + +"Wonderful! Simply wonderful!" + +She nodded tolerantly. "Why keep up the fiction?" she asked. "You know +that 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 you +please; it's all one, since you know. Moreover you have seen me with one +of your early morning callers, as I meant you to do." She leaned forward +and looked at him with half-closed eyes. "Will you believe me, Guy, when +I say that the United States is not concerned in the matter--and that it +should keep its hands off. You stumbled by accident on the deserted cab. +A subordinate blundered, or you would not have found it ready for your +investigation--and you've been unduly and unnecessarily inquisitive. We +have 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 in +this matter have such--" + +"I used regain advisedly," she broke in. + +"Because of your possession of the lady, or because of your independent +possession of the letter?" + +"You're pleased to be technical," she shrugged. + +"Not at all!" he replied. "I'm simply after the facts: whether the +letter 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 is +pretence." + +"You're pleased to be enigmatic!" Harleston laughed. + +"Oh, no I'm not," she smiled, flashing her rings and watching the +flashes--and him. "You saw me, and you know that I saw you; and I saw +you and know that you saw me. Now, as I've said it in words of one +syllable, I trust you will understand." + +"I understand," said he; "but you have side-stepped the point:--To whom +does 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 a +trustee 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 in +mild 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 losing +your cleverness. Mrs. Clephane is very charming and alluring, but +remember, Guy, that a charming woman has no place in the diplomatic +game--save to delude the enemy. She seems to be winning with you--who, I +thought, was above all our wiles and blandishments. Oh, do not smile, +sir--I recognize the symptoms; I've played the innocent and the beauty +in distress once or twice myself. It's all in our game--but I'm +shockingly amazed to see it catch so experienced a bird as Guy +Harleston." + +"I'm greatly obliged, Madeline, for your shocking amazement," Harleston +chuckled. "Meanwhile, and returning to the letter; who has the better +title to possession, Mrs. Clephane or yourself?" + +"As I remarked before, either of us has a better title to the letter +than yourself. Also--I have heard you say it many times, and it is an +accepted rule in the diplomatic game--never meddle in what does not +concern you; never help to pull another's chestnuts out of the fire." + +"My dear lady, you are perfectly right! I subscribe unreservedly to the +rule, and try to follow it; but you have overlooked another rule--the +most vital of the code." + +"What is it, pray!" + +"The old rule:--Never believe your adversary. Never tell the +truth--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 to +tell me truthfully why you are here, and what you aim to accomplish, I +couldn't accept your story; I should have to substantiate it by other +means." + +"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 were +seeking to establish an _entente cordiale_, or to gain time. The latter +was the likelier--yet time for what? They both were aware that all this +discussion was twaddle--like much that is done in diplomacy; that they +were merely skirmishing to determine something as to each other's +position. + +"I had hoped that for once you would forget business and trust me," she +said softly; "in memory of old times when we worked together, as well as +when we were against each other. We played the game then for all that +was in it, and neither of us asked nor gave quarter. But this isn't +business Guy,--" she had gradually bent closer until her hair brushed +his 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'll +tell you." Her voice dropped to a mere whisper. "It has to do with +England, Germany, and France: at least, I so assume. It has to do with +Germany 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 between +England and Germany, which France suspects and would give much to block +or to be advised of. As to what the agreement embodies, I am in the +dark--though I fancy it has to do with some phase of the Balkan +question." + +"Why would England and Germany conclude an agreement as to the Balkan +question--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, Baron +Kurtz, and didn't care to order him to Europe. Possibly, too, they chose +Washington in order to avoid the spying eyes of the secret service of +the 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 to +speak. I'm not quite in your class, Guy. I've never operated quite +alone." She looked at him thoughtfully. "We two together would make a +great 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 not +involved." + +"Join with Germany--and me--for this once." + +He shook his head. "I serve my country for my pleasure. Germany is +another matter. If, sometime, in an affair entirely personal to you, +Madeline, I should be able to assist you, I shall be only too glad for +the 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 trusted +your every word. You want the letter--the Clephane letter. I haven't +it--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 the +letter, 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 and +held it. "Where is Mrs. Clephane now?" he demanded. + +For just an instant her eyes narrowed and grew very dark. Then suddenly +she 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 of +derision 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, I +must grant you that. Also--" and she laughed lightly. + +"One moment," said he tranquilly, and turned toward Mrs. Clephane--who +had 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 her +hand he whispered: "Not a word of explanation _now_; and play ignorance +of _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 the +enemy--and particularly dangerous." + +"Everyone seems to be dangerous except myself," she replied. "I'm an +imbecile, 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," he +whispered. + +Her reply was a reproving glance from her brown eyes and a shake of the +head. + +"I'm delighted to meet you, Mrs. Clephane," Mrs. Spencer greeted, before +Harleston 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. Clephane +responded. "De Forrest Clephane was my husband. Did you know him, Mrs. +Spencer?" + +"I did not. _Robert_--" with the faintest stress on the name--"was the +only Clephane I knew. A nice chap, Mrs. Clephane; though, since you're +not his widow, I must admit that he was a bit gay--a very considerable +bit indeed." + +"We heard tales of it," Mrs. Clephane replied imperturbably. "It is an +ungracious thing, Mrs. Spencer, to scandalize the dead, but do you know +anything of his gayness from your own experience?" + +Harleston suppressed a chuckle. Mrs. Clephane would take care of +herself, he imagined. + +Mrs. Spencer's foot paused in its swinging, and for an instant her eyes +narrowed; then she smiled engagingly, the smile growing quickly into a +laugh. + +"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 and +travelled the limit with his fair companions. It was sad, too--he was a +most charming fellow. Rumour also had it that he was none too happy in +his marriage, and that _his_ Mrs. Clephane was something of the same +sort. I've seen _her_ several times; she was of the type to make men's +hearts 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 method +for 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 without +charge; which is something unusual in these days of tips and gratuities +and subsidized graft and things equally predatory." + +Mrs. Spencer arose. "The mere mention of graft puts me to instant +flight," she remarked. + +"And naturally even the suggestion of a crime is equally repugnant to +you," Mrs. Clephane observed. + +"'As a general proposition,'" Mrs. Spencer quoted. + +"And general propositions are best proved by exceptions, _n'est-ce +pas_?" was the quick yet drawling answer. + +The two women's eyes met. + +"I trust, Mrs. Clephane, we shall meet again and soon," Mrs. Spencer +replied, 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 to +my 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 brave +alone this Peacock Alley and its heedless crowd." + +And putting her arm intimately through Mrs. Spencer's she went on: with +Harleston trailing in the rear and chuckling with suppressed glee. It +was not often that Madeline Spencer met her match! + +When the car shot upward with Mrs. Spencer, Harleston gave a quiet laugh +of 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's +as 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, "also +something to explain." + +"Your explanation is not in the least necessary if it has to do with +anything 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 dropped +it--and half a lie is always more insidious than the full truth." + +"My dear Mrs. Clephane," he protested, "I assure you it is not +necessary--" + +"Not necessary, if one is in the diplomatic profession," she cut in. +"Murder and assassination both of men and of reputation, seem to be a +portion of this horrible business, and perfectly well recognized as a +legitimate means to effect the end desired. I'm not in it--diplomacy, I +mean,--and I'm mighty thankful I'm not. Mrs. Spencer cold as ice, crafty +as the devil, beautiful as sin, and hard as adamant, knowing her Paris +and London and its scandals--I suppose she must know them in her +profession--instantly recognized me and placed me as Robert Clephane's +wife. For I am his wife--or rather his widow. I lied to her because I +didn't intend that she should have the gratification of seeing her play +win. She sought to distress and disconcert me, and to raise in your mind +a 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 too +happy in his marriage, and that his Mrs. Clephane was something of the +same sort--she was of the type to make men's hearts flutter.' You see, I +recall 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 any +other man than you. She plays for time; a very little time, possibly. I +don'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 this +mess 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 fighting +blood. I never realized I had fighting blood in me until tonight. Mrs. +Spencer's ugly insinuation, topping their attempted abduction of the +evening, 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 being +so," Harleston replied. "Only you don't look it now." + +"You're a sad flatterer, sir!" she smiled. "Believe me, had you seen me +in the room to which they decoyed me with a false message from you, you +would 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 ninth +floor and garroted. I escaped. However, that is another story; yours +first, my lady." + +"You too!" she marvelled. + +He nodded. "And now we are sitting together at dinner, looking at the +crowd, and you're about to tell me your story." + +"Thanks to you for having escaped and rescued me!" Mrs. Clephane +exclaimed. + +"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 I +can 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 of +the game; even the rescue may be a part of the game. You may be playing +me against Mrs. Spencer, and taking advantage of my inexperience to +accomplish 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 of +a clever woman; or was it the evidence of sincerity and innocence? It +had the ring of candour and the appearance of truth. No one could look +into those alluring eyes and that fascinatingly beautiful face and +harbour a doubt of her absolute guilelessness. Yet was it guilelessness? +He had never met guilelessness in the diplomatic game, save as a mask +for treachery and deceit. And yet this seemed the real thing. He wanted +to believe it. In fact, he did believe it; it was simply the habit of +his experience warning him to beware--and because it was a woman it +warned him all the more.... Yet he cast experience aside--and also the +fact that she was a woman--and accepted her story as truth. Maybe he +would regret it; maybe she was playing him; maybe she was laughing +behind her mask; maybe he was all kinds of a fool--nevertheless, he +would trust her. It was-- + +"I'm glad you have decided that I'm not a diplomat--and that you will +trust me," she broke in. "I'm just an ordinary woman, Mr. Harleston, just +a very ordinary woman." + +He held out his hand. She took it instantly. + +"A very extraordinary woman, you mean, dear lady," he said gravely. "In +some 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 an +instant, to look deep into her brown eyes. "Now, since you trust me, I +want to refer briefly to Mrs. Spencer's insinuation." + +"Robert Clephane was all that she said--and more. Middle-aged when he +married me, before a year was passed I had found that I was only another +experience for him; and that after a short time he had resumed his ways +of--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 gay +life of Paris with reckless fervour. I know I was indiscreet. I know I +fractured conventionality and was dreadfully compromised--but I never +violated the Seventh Commandment. Robert Clephane and I were not +separated--except by a locked door. + +"Then one day some two years back, dreadfully mangled, they brought him +home. An aeroplane had fallen with him--with the usual result. That +moment saw the end of my gay life. I passed it up as completely as +though it had never been. The reason for it was gone. After a very +short period of mourning, I took up the quietness of a respectable +widow, who wished only to forget that she ever was married." + +"I can understand exactly," said Harleston. "You shall never hear a word +from me to remind you." + +"I've never heard anything to remind me of the past until this alluring +beauty'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's +something 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 of +Madeline 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 my +helplessness 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," he +returned. "Her purpose was to put you in the same class as herself, so +that I should trust you no more than I do her; to make you appear an +emissary of France, in its secret service, playing the game of ignorance +and inexperience for its present purpose. For you, as a personality she +does not care a fig. To her you are but one of the pieces, to be moved +or threatened as her purpose dictates. In the diplomatic game, my lady, +we know only one side--all other sides are the enemy; and nothing, not +even a woman's reputation, is permitted to stand for an instant in the +way of attaining our end." + +"Therefore a good woman--or one who would forget the past--has no +earthly business to become involved in the game," Mrs. Clephane +returned. "I shall get out of it the instant this matter of the letter +is completed--and stay out thereafter. Even friendship won't lure me to +it. 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 to +Madame Durrand. She trusts me." + +"Then inform the French Ambassador of all the facts and circumstances +and 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 were +known to some one of the staff who could vouch for you." + +"I don't know anyone on the staff, but Mrs. Durrand has likely +communicated with the Embassy." + +"If she has, she had given them a minute description of you, yet that +can 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 in +the game would have lost no time in informing the Embassy of the loss +of 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, it +was 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's +the 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?" she +asked. + +"You should have gone this morning--the instant you were returned to the +hotel! Now, unless Madame Durrand had written about you, it's a pretty +good 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 from +communicating with the Ambassador until they had obtained the letter or +defeated 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 with +her plans and gain time for her." + +"Impersonating me!" Mrs. Clephane exclaimed incredulously. + +"Yes. She knows all the material circumstance--witness the telephone +call that inveigled you into the drive up the Avenue, _et cetera_--and +she'll take the chance that you are not known to the Marquis nor any of +the staff, or even the chance that Madame Durrand has not yet informed +them. Indeed she may have taken precautions against her informing them. +A few bribes to the hospital attendants, carefully distributed, would be +sufficient. It's not everyone who could, or would venture to, pull off +the coup, but with Spencer the very daring of a thing adds to its +pleasure and its zest." + +"You amaze me!" Mrs. Clephane replied. "I thought also that diplomacy +was the gentlest-mannered profession in the world--and the most +dignified." + +"It is--on the surface. Fine residences, splendid establishments, +brilliant uniforms, much bowing and many genuflections, plenty of parade +and glitter--everything for show. Under the surface: a supreme contempt +for any code of honour, and a ruthlessness of purpose simply +appalling--yet, withal, dignity, strained at times, but dignity +none-the-less." + +"Then it isn't even a respectable calling!" she exclaimed. + +"It's eminently respectable to intimidate and to lie for one's +country--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 all +know what to expect and what to guard against. No one believes or trusts +the enemy; and, as I said, everyone is the enemy but those who are +arrayed with us." + +"So instead of being the finest profession in the world--and the most +aristocratic," Mrs. Clephane reflected, "a diplomat is, in truth, simply +a false-pretence artist of an especially refined and dangerous type, +who deals with the affairs of nations instead of the affairs of an +individual." + +"Pretty much," he admitted. "Diplomacy is all bluff, bluster, buncombe, +and bullying; the degrees of refinement of the aforesaid bluff, _et +cetera_, depending on the occasions, and the particular parties involved +in the particular business." + +"Again I'm well content to be simply an ordinary woman, whose chief +delight 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, we +are straying from the question before us, which is: what shall I do +about informing the Marquis d'Hausonville? Will you go with me?" + +"My going with you would only complicate matters for you. The Marquis +would instantly want to know what such a move on my part meant. I'm +known to be in the secret service of the United States, you must +remember. Furthermore your tale will accuse me of the taking of the +letter--and you see the merry mess which follows. I cannot return the +letter--it's in possession of the State Department. I'm far +transgressing my duty by disclosing anything as to the letter. Indeed, +I'm liable to be disciplined most drastically, even imprisoned, should +it chance that the United States was involved." + +"You've told me nothing more than you've already told the Spencer +crowd," she objected. + +"The difference is that the Spencer crowd are trying to obtain something +to which they haven't the least right--and I'm playing the game against +them. You see my peculiar position, Mrs. Clephane. I've told you what I +shouldn't, because--well, because I'm sure that you will not use it to +my disadvantage." + +She traced the figures on her gown with the tips of her fingers, and for +awhile was silent-- + +"It's all so involved," she reflected; "such wheels within wheels, I am +completely mystified. I'm lost in the maze. I don't know whom to believe +nor 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 and +answered very quietly: + +"I shall try, dear lady, to be worthy." + +"And now," she laughed, "may I tell you what happened to me when you +were 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 were +scarcely out of the room, a page brought a verbal message from the +telephone operator that my maid had been found unconscious in the +corridor of the eighth floor, and carried into 821. I hurried to the +elevator. As I entered the door of 821, I was seized from behind and a +handkerchief 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 I +remained 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 be +imagined. It seemed days and days--and was somewhat uncomfortable while +it lasted. When released I hurried down to look for you--or to write you +a note of explanation if I couldn't find you. I'm sort of becoming +accustomed to being abducted and kindred innocent amusements. I suppose +the only reason they didn't kill me is that they can't kill me more than +once; and to kill me now would be too early in the game." + +"Killing is rarely done in diplomacy," observed Harleston, "except in +large numbers; when it ceases to be diplomacy and becomes war. In fact, +only bunglers resort to killing; and if the killing be known it ends +one's career in the service. To have to kill to gain an end is +conclusive evidence of incompetency. I mean, of course, among reputable +nations. There are some thugs among the lesser Powers, just as there are +thugs among the _'oi polloi_." + +"Then Mrs. Spencer is an accomplished--diplomat," Mrs. Clephane +remarked. + +"She is at the top of the profession,--and as a directing force she is +without a superior." + +"You are very generous, Mr. Harleston!" + +"I believe in giving the devil his dues. Indeed, in handling some +affairs, she is in a class by herself. Her beauty and finesse and +alluringness make her simply irresistible. It's a cold and stony heart +that 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 is +of 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 its +delivery to the French Ambassador will embarrass or complicate that +business. The latter is likely the fact." + +"It grows more involved every minute," Mrs. Clephane sighed. "It's +useless to try to make me comprehend. I want to hear what happened to +you; such simple concrete doings are more adapted to my unsophisticated +mind." + +"When I returned to the telephone, you were gone," he said; "I waited +awhile, then cruised through the rooms, then went back to our place and +waited again. Finally I went in to dinner, leaving word to be notified +the moment you returned. I was at my soup when a note was brought to me +saying that you had just seen someone whom you wished to avoid, and +asking me to dine with you in your apartment--and that you would explain +your disappearance. I went up at once to No. 972; and there encountered +pretty 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 said +simply: + +"I've absolutely no business in this affair, Mr. Harleston. When such +things can happen in this hotel, in the very centre of the National +Capital and among the throngs of diners and guests, it behooves an +ordinary woman to seek safety in a hospital or a prison. It seems that +the greater the prominence of the place, the greater the danger and the +less 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 the +corridor, "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 thank +you for a delicious dinner and a charming evening--and don't forget +you'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 the +car. "Good-night, Mr. Harleston!" she smiled--and the car shot upward. + +"Hum!" muttered Harleston as he turned for his coat and hat. "I may be +a 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 outer +office. + +"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 in +the private office." + +"Hello! Is that you, Ranleigh? Yes, I recognized the voice. Did you +telephone me at the Chateau about six-thirty?... You didn't?... You were +on your way home at that hour.... Yes, exactly; it was a plant.... Do +you know Crenshaw escaped from my apartment.... Yes, I saw him in the +Chateau this evening.... What?... Yes, better look up Whiteside at +once.... 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 came +up, and the two men went in together. + +Whiteside was there; gagged and bound to the same chair that had held +Crenshaw. + +The rooms were in confusion. Everything had been gone through; clothes +were scattered over the floor, papers were strewn about, drawers stood +open. + +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 most +apologetic tone. He knew there was no sympathy and no excuse for the +detective who let his prisoner escape. "The bell rang. I went to the +door--and was shot senseless by a chemical revolver. When I came to, I +had exchanged places with the prisoner, and he and another man were +just departing. 'My compliments to Mr. Harleston when he returns,' said +Crenshaw, as he went out." + +"Describe the other man!" said Ranleigh. + +"Medium sized, slender, dark hair and eyes, good features, looked like a +gentleman, 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 from +Crenshaw's garrote in the Chateau," Harleston remarked. "The simple fact +is, I clean forgot him until I was talking with you on the telephone." + +"It's just as well, Mr. Harleston," Ranleigh replied. "It served him +right. He will be fortunate if his want of precaution doesn't cost him +his job." + +"No, no!" Harleston objected. "Whiteside has been punished. I intercede +for him. Let him continue in his job, please." + +"Very good, sir," Ranleigh acquiesced. "But he'll be informed that he +owes his retention entirely to you." + +When Ranleigh departed, after hearing a detailed account of the +evening's doings at the hotel, Harleston sat for a little while +thinking; finally he drew over a pad and made a list of things that +required explanation, or seemed to require explanation, at the present +stage of the matter: + +"(1) The translation of the cipher letter. This should explain Madeline +Spencer's connection with the affair. + +"(2) Did the following persons, incidents, or circumstances have any +bearing on the affair. + +"(a) The lone and handsome woman, who left the Collingwood at three that +morning. + +"(b) The note 'à l'aube du jour' (signed) 'M,' found in Crenshaw's +pocket. + +"(c) The telephone call of the Chartrand apartment at 12:52 A.M., by a +man 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, and +no one telephoned; how, therefore, did anyone in the Collingwood know of +the 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 five +o'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 the +affair of the cab of the sleeping horse, but nothing more for the +Spencer gang to inspect in his apartment. Crenshaw had made a thorough +job of his investigation. + +In the morning he took out the list and went over it again. They all +were dependent on the translation of the letter; if it did not show that +the United States was concerned in the matter, the rest became merely of +academic interest--and Harleston had little inclination and no time for +things academic. The difficulty was, that until the key to the cipher +was found nothing was academic which appeared to have any bearing on the +affair. + +So he sent for the manager of the Collingwood, and asked as to the +Chartrands. The manager's information, which was definite if not +extensive, was to the effect that the Chartrands were people of means +from Denver, with excellent social position there, and with connections +in Washington. They had been tenants of the Collingwood less than a +week, having sublet the Dryand apartment. It was a large apartment. Mr. +Chartrand was possibly forty-five, his wife thirty-eight or forty and +exceedingly good-looking. There was, of course, no record kept of their +visitors, nor did the house know who they were entertaining the previous +evening. He was entirely sure, however, that the Chartrands were above +suspicion. Mrs. Chartrand was a blonde, petite and slender; Chartrand +was tall and rather stout, with red hair, and a scar across his +forehead. As for the tall, slender woman who left the Collingwood at +three in the morning, he did not recognize her from the description; he +would, however, investigate at once. + +That it might be Madeline Spencer, now that her presence in Washington +was declared, Harleston thought possible. "Slender, twenty-eight, walks +as though the ground were hers," the telephone operator had said. He +would get the photograph from Carpenter and let Miss Williams see it. If +she 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, the +Secretary 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 in +that 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 not +dangerous to me, be she ever so beautiful, and fascinating, and +sinuous, 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 seeing +moonshine. I'll try to make the appointment for tomorrow at four." + +"Self-opinionated old mountebank," Harleston thought, as he went down +the corridor to Carpenter's office. "I shall enjoy watching Spencer make +all kinds of an ass of him. 'You impressible chaps!--not dangerous to +me!' Oh, Lord, the patronizing bumptiousness of the man!... Have you +anything for me, Carpenter?" he asked, as he entered the latter's +office. + +The Fifth Assistant was sitting with his feet on his desk, a cigar in +his mouth, his gaze fixed on vacancy. + +"Damn your old cipher, Harleston!" he remarked, coming out of his +abstraction. "It's bothered me more than anything I've tackled for +years. I can't make head nor tail of it. Its very simplicity--or seeming +simplicity--is what's tantalizing. It's in French. Of so much I feel +sure, 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. We +have a complete record of them. None fit this case. Can you give me +anything additional that will be suggestive?" + +"Here's what I've brought," Harleston replied--and related, so far as +they seemed pertinent, the incidents of the previous afternoon and +evening. + +"A French message in an English envelope, inclosing an unmounted +photograph of Madeline Spencer, a well-known German Secret Agent in +Paris," Carpenter remarked slowly; "and the letter is borne by Madame +Durrand to the French Ambassador. You see, my intuition was right? the +letter is in French; and as it is of French authorship the key-word is +French. That narrows very materially our search. Find the key-word to +the Vigenèrie cipher of the French Diplomatic Service and we shall have +the translation." + +"You haven't that word?" Harleston asked. + +"We've got quantities of keys to French ciphers, and numerous ones to +the Blocked-Out Square, but they won't translate this letter." He took +up a small book and opened it at a mark. "Here are samples of the +latter: _ecclesiastiques, coeur de roche, a deau eaux, fourreau, chateau +d'eau_, and so on. But, alas, none of them fits; the French Government +has a new key. Indeed, she changes it every month or oftener; sometimes +she 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 brisk +attempt. I will give orders at once. In the meantime, if you'll keep me +advised of what happens, we may be able to piece your and my information +together and make a word." + +"I'll do it!" Harleston replied and started toward the door. Half-way +across the room he suddenly whirled around. "Lord, Carpenter. what an +imbecile I am!" he exclaimed. "I fancy I've had the key-word all the +while and never realized it." + +"There are too many petticoats in this case," Carpenter shrugged. + +"Never mind the petticoats!" Harleston laughed. "Get out the letter and +try this phrase on it: _à l'aube du jour_." + +Without a word of comment, Carpenter set down the cipher message, letter +by letter, and wrote over it _à l'aube du jour_. Then he took up a +printed Blocked-Out Square and with incredible swiftness began to write +the translation. + +"Where did you get this 'at the break of day,' Harleston?" he asked as +he 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. If +you can supply a key to this key we may arrive. Such an array of +unpronounceables 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 many +consonants. I reckon my key-word isn't the key." + +"Try being held up again," Carpenter advised; "you may succeed the +second time. If Madeline Spencer is the holdee, no telling what you'd +find." + +"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 tons +of words. I'm a reader of secret ciphers; you don't imagine a mere +individual presents much of a problem. I tell you there are too many +petticoats mixed up in this affair of the cab of the sleeping horse," +Carpenter repeated. "Be careful, Harleston. Women are a menace--they +spoil 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't +spoil it now, Harleston, don't spoil it now. Millionaires and +day-labourers are the only classes that have any business to marry; the +rest of us chaps either can't afford the luxury, or are not quite poor +enough 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 it +warns." + +"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 leap +in--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 I +neglected to include a description of Mrs. Clephane." + +"Neglected with deliberation. And with you that is more significant than +if 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 you +permit, I'll tell you something about a Mrs. Clephane--queer name +Clephane, and rather unusual--whom I used to see in Paris," glancing +languidly at Harleston, "several years ago. Want to hear it?" + +"Sure!" said Harleston. "Drive on and keep driving. You won't drive over +me." + +"It isn't a great deal," Carpenter went on, slowly tearing the consonant +collection into bits, "and perchance it wasn't your Mrs. Clephane; but +her name, and her beauty and charm, and Paris, and some other inferences +I drew, led me to suspect that--" He completed the sentence by a wave of +his hand. "She was Robert Clephane's wife--yes, I see in your face that +she is your Mrs. Clephane--and he led her a merry life, though if rumour +lied not she kept up with the pace he set. I saw her frequently and she +was as--well you have not overdrawn the 'reticence picture.' Shall I +continue?" + +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 carefully +along the edge. + +"I seem to be in wrong, old man," he said. "Please forget that I ever +said it or anything--you understand." + +"My dear fellow, don't be an ass!" Harleston laughed. "I'm not sensitive +about the lady; I never saw her until last night." + +"Quite long enough for a man disposed to make a fool of himself--if the +lady is a beauty." + +"I'm disposed to hear more from you, if you care to tell me," Harleston +replied. "However, jesting aside, Carpenter, what do you know? Mrs. +Clephane is something of a puzzle to me, but I have concluded to accept +her story; yet I'm always open to conviction, and if I'm wrong now's the +time to enlighten me--the State comes first, you know." + +"Are you viewing Mrs. Clephane simply as a circumstance in the affair of +the 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 a +notoriously 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; yet +nevertheless it weakens her credibility; puts her story as to the letter +under suspicion. And there is one thing more: Clephane, you know, was +killed in an aeroplane smash. Did Mrs. Clephane tell you anything as to +it?" + +"Merely referred to it." + +"Well, at a dinner the night before, he effervesced that his wife had +repeatedly tried to poison him, and had told him only that evening that +she hoped the flight of the morrow would be his last, and that he would +fall so far it would be useless to dig for his remains. At the aviation +field the following day he appeared queer, and his friends urged him not +to try the flight; but he waved them aside, with the remark that maybe +Mrs. Clephane had drugged him and at last would win out. His fall came +a 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 from +having 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 accuse +anyone of anything at certain times. As a matter of fact, I wouldn't +blame Mrs. Clephane, nor any other woman, for chucking such a husband +out of the boat. It's contrary to the Acts of Assembly in such cases +made 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 and +disappear 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 trust +her, until I've seen something to warrant distrust--bearing in mind, +however, what you have just told me, and the possibility of my being +mistaken. 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." He +pushed back the instrument. "Mrs. Clephane has telephoned that she must +see me at once. Meanwhile--the key-word, my friend." + +Carpenter drummed on the table, and frowned at the door that had closed +behind Harleston. + +"The man's bewitched," he muttered. "However I threw a slight scare into +him, 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 telephone +operator. + +A moment later the elevator flashed into sight, and Mrs. Clephane +stepped out and came forward with the languorously lithe step, perfectly +in keeping with her slender figure. She wore a dark blue street suit, +and under her small hat her glorious hair flamed like an incandescent +aureole. 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 to +be 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're +the 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 anything +of diplomacy we would better cut them out--until we have finished with +diplomacy. Then you may offer as many as you like, and I'll believe them +or not as I'm minded." + +"Have it as you wish!" he smiled, looking into the brown eyes with frank +admiration. + +"Compliments may be conveyed by looks as well as by words," she +reproved. + +"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'm +prepared 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 help +me 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 France +are not working together in this matter, and for me to accompany you +would result simply in your being obliged to explain _me_ as well as the +letter, besides leading to endless complications and countless +suspicions. Didn't I expound this last evening?" + +"You did--also much more; but I've thought over it almost the whole +night, and I simply must get this miserable letter off my mind. Perhaps +Mrs. Spencer has forestalled me with the Ambassador and has given him +such a tale as will insure my being shown the door; nevertheless I'll +risk 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 pitiably +foolish, but I don't want Mrs. Durrand to know how I've bungled her +matter 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 for +your identity." + +"I know no one in Washington except the friends at the Shoreham, and +they 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 there +women from Washington it's been only casually. They won't recollect me, +any more than I would them, for purposes of vouchment or +identification." + +"Then go alone." + +"I will. It is the right thing to do. Yesterday I was thinking that you +had the letter and could return it to me. I waited. Today I can +appreciate your reason for withholding it--likewise the necessity for me +to 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 volunteer +in this affair, and I've decided that for me the course of discretion +and 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 the +Ambassador, 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 to +the entrance. + +"Every action is suspected and distrusted in diplomacy," he said, +"therefore I may not accompany you. Someone would be sure to see us and +report to the Embassy that I had brought you--the natural effect of +which would be to make the Marquis disbelieve your tale. For you see, +until we have translated the letter, we cannot assume that America is +not concerned." + +"And you will not think ill of me for disclosing your part in the +affair?" she asked. + +"Quite the contrary," he smiled. "Moreover, it is the course for you to +pursue; to hold back a single thing as to me will result only in +distrust. Indeed, implicating me will help substantiate your story." + +"You're very good and very thoughtful," she murmured--and once more +suffered him to look deep into her eyes. + +"I am very willing for you to think me both," he replied. "Now I'm going +to call a taxi at the Fourteenth Street exit, and follow yours up +Sixteenth Street until I see you at the French Embassy. Tell your +chauffeur to drive down to Twelfth Street, up to H and then out to +Sixteenth. My taxi will be loitering on Sixteenth and will pick up yours +as it passes and follow it to the Embassy. Once there you're out of +danger of the Spencer gang. And let me impress you with this fact: tell +the 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 a +most 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--wondering +why he had ever fancied Madeline Spencer. + +Mrs. Clephane gave her orders to the chauffeur, ending with the +injunction to drive slowly. + +As they swung into Sixteenth Street, a taxi standing before St. John's +Episcopal Church followed them; and Mrs. Clephane recognized Harleston +as its occupant. + +At the French Embassy she descended and rang the bell, and was instantly +admitted by a liveried footman. + +"I wish to see his Excellency the Ambassador!" she said, speaking in +French. + +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 his +fingers. + +"Messes Cleephane?" he inquired. + +"I am Mrs. Clephane," she replied in French. "I wish to see his +Excellency the Ambassador on a most important matter." + +"You have an appointment with his Excellency?" he asked, this time in +French. + +"You are--" she inflected. + +"His secretary, madame," the young man bowed. + +"No, I have not an appointment," she replied, "but I come from Madame +Durrand 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 the +Ambassador that I am here." + +"His Excellency is exceedingly busy--will you not relate the +circumstances to me?" + +"My instructions from Madame Durrand are most specific that I am to deal +only with his Excellency," Mrs. Clephane explained--with such a dazzling +smile that the secretary's eyes fairly popped. "Won't you please tell +him 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--and +he hesitated no longer. + +"Come with me, Madame Clephane," he replied "His Excellency is occupied +at present, but I'll deliver your message." + +Once more the smile--as opening the door for her he bowed her into an +inner office, and carefully placed a chair for her. + +"A moment, madame," he whispered, disappearing through an adjoining +doorway. + +Whereat Mrs. Clephane sighed with amused complacency, and waited. + +Presently the door opened and the secretary appeared. "His Excellency +will receive you, Madame Clephane," he said. + +"I thank you--oh, so much!" she whispered as she passed him--and the +look that went with the words cleared all her scores--and almost +finished him. + +So much for a smile--when a beautiful woman smiles, and smiles in just +the right way, and especially when the man smiled on is a Frenchman. + +The Ambassador was standing by a large, flat-topped desk in the centre +of the room, his back was to the light, which was generously given in +all its effulgence to his visitors. He was a small man and slight of +build, intensely nervous, with well-cut features, gray hair--what there +was of it--and a tiny black moustache curled up at the ends but not +waxed. + +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 my +misfortune 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 in +comparison the secretary's smile was simply as nothing. + +"Your Excellency overwhelms me," she replied. "I'm positively trembling +with apprehension lest I fail to--" she dropped into English--"make +good." + +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 Madame +Durrand on the steamer to the present moment--omitting only the +immaterial personal portions occurring between Harleston and herself, +and the fact that his taxi had escorted hers until she was at the +Embassy. + +Her narrative was punctuated throughout by the Marquis's constant +exclamations of wonder or interest; but further than exclaiming, in the +nervous French way, he made no interruption. + +And on the whole, she told her story well; at first she was a little +nervous, which made her somewhat at a loss for words; yet that soon +passed, 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; I +shall be only too glad to answer if I am able." + +"Madame's narrative has been most detailed and most satisfactory," the +Marquis answered. "But let me ask you to explain, if you can, why Madame +Durrand 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, a +letter." + +"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," she +replied. "The station officials selected it. I was thinking of +her--Madame Durrand, I mean--more than the name of the hospital. I don't +even know the street; though it's somewhere in the locality of the +station. It is dreadfully stupid of me, your Excellency, not to +know--but I don't." + +"We can remedy that very readily," he said, and pressed a button. His +secretary responded. "Telephone our Consul-General in New York to +ascertain immediately from the railroad officials the hospital to which +Madame Durrand, who broke her ankle and wrist in the Pennsylvania +Station, at ten o'clock on Monday, was taken." + +The secretary saluted and withdrew. + +"Might not our friends the enemy have bribed someone to suppress Madame +Durrand's letter or wire?" Mrs. Clephane asked. + +"Very possibly. It is entirely likely that they wouldn't be apt to stop +with the accident." + +"You think they were responsible for Madame Durrand's fall?" she +exclaimed. + +"Have you forgotten the man who jostled Madame Durrand?" the Marquis +reminded. + +"To be sure! How stupid not to think of it. You see, your Excellency, I +am not accustomed to the ways of diplomacy and to assuming every one's a +rogue 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 have +the same ways, it's fair, I suppose, among one another." + +"Did you tell Monsieur Harleston your opinion of our vocation?" he +asked. + +"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 is +a man of rare discrimination and admirable taste." + +"Now won't you please tell me, your Excellency, if you credit, no, if +you _believe_, my story--and don't be a diplomat for the telling." + +"My dear Madame Clephane, I do believe your tale--it bears the impress +of truth in what you've not done, as well as in what you've done. Had +you ever been in the service you would recognize my meaning. That the +abductors did not triumph was due first to their carelessness, and +second to chance, in the person of Monsieur Harleston. He plays the +game; 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 do +otherwise. And France would infinitely prefer the United States to have +the letter rather than Germany. It's unfortunate, but it's not as +unfortunate as it might be." + +"You make me feel much, oh, so much better!" Mrs. Clephane replied. "I +feared lest my blunder could never be forgiven nor forgotten; and that +Madame Durrand would be held responsible and would never again be +trusted." + +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 is +neither 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?" he +interjected. "Alas, no! Monsieur Harleston would only assume the +translation to be false and given for the sole purpose of deception. I +should assume exactly the same, were our positions reversed." + +"Couldn't you prove your translation by giving him the key to the +cipher?" she asked. + +"My dear madame," the Marquis smiled, "such a thing would be +unprecedented--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 letter +repeated by cable." + +"Also we can cable the government to dispatch another letter," the +Ambassador soothed. "There are plenty of ways out of the difficulty, so +don't give yourself any concern--and the United States is welcome to the +letter. It will be a far day, I assure you, ere its cipher bureau +translates 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 will +be where?" + +"I will be at the Chateau until this matter is straightened out--and +subject 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, and +bowed 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 is +about. Let him report as quickly as he has anything definite. I'll cable +Paris at once as to the letter." + + + + +XIV + +THE SLIP OF PAPER + + +Madeline Spencer, leaning languidly against the mahogany table in the +corner of the drawing-room, drummed softly with her finger tips as she +listened. + +"What is the use of it all?" Marston was asking. "We can't get the +letter. Harleston evidently told the truth; he has turned it over to the +State Department, so why not be content that it's there, and let well +enough alone?" + +"I've been letting well enough alone by occupying them with the notion +that the letter is the thing most desired," Mrs. Spencer returned. +"Muddying the water, as it were, so as to obscure the main issue and get +away 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 she +didn't beat it there direct from the train I can't imagine. Such +ignorance is a large asset for those of us who know. I had thought of +impersonating her and amusing myself with d'Hausonville, but I concluded +it wasn't worth while. It _riles_ me, however, that the affair was so +atrociously bungled by Crenshaw and the others. What possessed them to +release Mrs. Clephane once they had her?--and what in Heaven's name made +them overlook the letter in the cab?" + +"Search me!" Marston replied. + +"There is no occasion to search you, Marston," she smiled, "I shouldn't +find 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 in +your choice of assistants, Marston. They are a stupid lot. You may send +them 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 that +chap Harleston's butting into the affair. Who would have foreseen that +he would happen along just at that particular moment and scoop the +letter without turning a hair. It was rotten luck sure." + +"It was all easy enough if the blundering fools had only exercised an +atom of sense," Mrs. Spencer retorted. "Mrs. Clephane couldn't deceive a +normal 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 give +them the plausible story that it was locked in the hotel safe. And the +hotel safe was the reasonable place for her to leave the letter until +she had seen the Ambassador, and someone from the Embassy could return +with her and get the letter." + +"Granted--if Mrs. Clephane were a wise woman and in the service. She +isn't wise and she isn't in the service; and both these facts are so +apparent that he who runs may read. She played the Buissards for fools +and won. If they had exercised the intelligence of an infant, they'd +have known that she had the letter with her when she left the hotel. You +got a glimmer of light when you thought of the cab--and Mrs. Clephane +told you that Mr. Harleston had stopped and looked at the sleeping +horse and then started him toward Dupont Circle. You came to me to +report--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 his +apartment didn't succeed; though somewhat later Crenshaw did act as a +semi-reasonable man, and secured the letter--only to foozle again like +an imbecile. The play in the hotel last night, as schemed by us, should +have gone through and eliminated Clephane and Harleston for a time; but +Harleston upset things by his quick action and sense of +danger--moreover, he guessed as to Clephane, for the management got wise +and made a search, and the dear lady found Harleston and me in Peacock +Alley--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 French +Ambassador knows that a cipher letter to him from his Foreign Minister +has been intercepted and is in the hands of the American State +Department. Second--as it is in letter cipher, there isn't much +likelihood of it being translated. Third--the matter covered by the +letter must be something that they are reluctant to send by cable; for +you know, Marston, that the United States, in common with European +nations, requires all telegraph and cable companies to forward +immediately to the State Department a copy of every cipher message +addressed to a foreign official. Maybe they are not able to translate +it, but of that the sending nation cannot be sure and it makes it very +careful, particularly when the local government is affected. +Fourth--France will have to choose between consuming a week in getting +another letter from Paris to Washington, or she will have to chance the +cable 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 United +States, than to let Germany succeed." + +"May she not be content now to warn the United States?" suggested +Marston. + +"It's quite possible. All depends whether the letter concerns my +mission. We have been informed by the Wilhelm-strasse that it probably +does, and directed to prevent its delivery to the French Ambassador. +We've succeeded in preventing, but bungled it over to the United +States--the one country that we shouldn't have aroused. What in the +devil's name ails your assistants, Marston--particularly Crenshaw?" + +"To be quite candid," Marston replied, "he had a grouch; he thought that +Sparrow and I flub-dubbed the matter of the cab, and deliberately tried +to lose him when we went to the Collingwood. And when he did come, he +drew 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 my +beautiful eyes, to do with Crenshaw and Sparrow?" + +"What usually happens to the men who are associated with you in any +enterprise: they get daffy over you." + +"Because they get daffy over me is no excuse for stupid execution of the +business in hand," she shrugged. "_You_ never have been guilty of +stupidity, Marston." + +"Because I've managed never to be a fool about you--however much I have +been tempted to become one." + +"Have been, Marston?" she inflected. + +"Have been--and _am_," he bowed. "I'm not different from the +rest--only--" + +She curled herself on a divan, and languidly stretched her slender +rounded 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 keep +my head." + +"And your heart, too, _mon ami_?" + +"My heart is the servant of my head. When it ceases so to be, I shall +ask 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 tied +Marston 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--and +that she knew that he knew it. It was Madeline Spencer's experience with +men that such as she tried for she usually got. There were exceptions, +but them she could count on the fingers of one hand. Harleston--though +for a time he was on the verge of submission--was an exception. And for +that she was ready to rend him at the fitting opportunity; the more so +because her own feelings had been aroused. As they were once before with +Armand Dalberg--who had calmly put her in her place, and tumbled her +schemes 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 that +fed itself on his scorn of her. + +She had dared much with Dalberg--and often; and always she had lost. The +Duke 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 be +in affairs, had mixed in diplomacy, and had quickly become an expert in +tortuous moves of the tortuous game. + +Then one day she encountered Harleston, and bested him. With a rare good +nature for a diplomat, he had taken his defeat with a smile, at the same +time observing her manifold attractions with a careful eye and an +indulgent mind for the past. Which caused her to look at him again, and +to think of him frequently; and at last to want him for her own--after a +little while. And he had appeared not averse to the wanting--after a +little while. Now, just as he was about to succumb, he was suddenly +whisked away by another woman--that woman simply a later edition of +herself: the same figure, the same poise, the same methods, the same +allurements; but younger in years, fresher, and, she admitted it to +herself, less acquainted with the ways of men. And now she had lost +him; and never would she be able to get him back. Another woman had +filched 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 back +to 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 to +remain 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 corps +of assistants." + +"The longer the delay the more chance France has to repeat the letter by +cable," Marston remarked. + +"Certainly--but I shan't be fool enough to tell him so, or anything as +to 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 is +a serious business." + +"Particularly since Harleston is on the trail?" Marston added. + +Mrs. Spencer nodded again. "We'll pray that he does not uncover the +matter 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's +really up to the--man in the case. If he can get away with it, we can +manage the rest." + +"And if he can't?" + +"Then there will be nothing on us, unless the Clephane letter is +translated and implicates me by name--or Paris resorts to cable. If it +were not for France's meddling, it would be ridiculously simple so far +as 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'm +a woman. I haven't even so much as tried to guess. I was ordered here +under express instructions; which are to meet someone who will +communicate with me by letter in which a certain phrase will occur. +Thereafter I am to be guided by him and the circumstances until I +receive from him a certain package, when I am instantly to depart the +country and hurry straight to Berlin. Whether I am to receive a copy of +a secret treaty between our friends or our enemies, a diplomatic secret +of high importance, a report on the fortifications or forces of another +nation, or what it is, I haven't the slightest idea. It's all in the +game--and the game fascinates me; its dangers and its uncertainty. Some +other nation wants what Germany is about to get; some other nation seeks +to prevent its betrayal; some other nation seeks to block us; someone +else would even murder us to gain a point--and our own employer would +not raise a hand to seek retribution, or even to acknowledge that we +had died in her cause. They laud the soldier who dies for his flag, but +he who dies in the secret service of a government is never heard of. He +disappears; for the peace or the reputation of nations his name is not +upon 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, the +remuneration is the best." + +"You're quite right as to those high up in the service," Marston +remarked, "the remuneration, I mean, but not as to us poor devils who +are only the pawns. We not only have no glory nor honour, but +considering 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 of +working 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 of +fine courtesy and absolute devotion. + +"And we shall win this time, Marston," she went on, "we shall sail for +Europe 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 she +wished, could smile a man into fire--and out again. It was too soon for +the "out again" with Marston. He was very useful--he was not restless, +nor demanding, nor sensitive, nor impatient of others, nor jealous. He +was like a faithful dog, who adores and adores, and pleads only to be +allowed to adore. Moreover, he was a capable man and trustworthy; +dependable and far above his class. Therefore she took care that his +chains should be silken, yet at the same time that he be not permitted +to 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 be +purchasable--if we made him a good stiff bid?" + +"I don't know," she answered. "It isn't likely, however; he is too old +and tried an official to be venal. Furthermore we haven't any money at +hand, and my instructions are to act independently of the German +Embassy, and under no circumstances whatever to communicate with it. In +such business as we are engaged, the Embassy never knows us nor of our +plans. They don't dare to know; and they will calmly deny us if we +appeal to them." + +"The money might be arranged," Marston suggested. "You could cable to +Berlin for it--and have it cabled back." + +"It might be done," said she thoughtfully. "You mean to try Carpenter +for a copy of the cipher letter?" + +"It won't do any particular harm, as I see it; it can't make us any +worse off and it may give us the letter. It's worth the trial, it seems +to me." + +"But if Carpenter has not succeeded in finding the key-word, how will +the letter help? Do you expect to bribe the French Embassy also?" + +"It may not be necessary," he replied. "I know a number of keys of +French ciphers; one of them may fit." + +"Very well," said she quietly; "you are empowered to have a try at +Carpenter." + +"Good--I'll start after it at once. Any further orders, madame?" + +"None till evening," again holding out her hand--and again smiling him +into 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 keeps +him devoted to me. Yes, a very useful and satisfactory man. His idea of +corrupting Carpenter may be rather futile; and he may get into a snarl +by trying it, but," with a shrug of her shapely shoulders, "that is his +affair and won't involve me. And if he should prove successful, the new +French key-word which the Count, the dear Count, gave me just before I +left 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 a +ball, two evenings before she sailed on her present mission. He was not +aware that she was sailing, nor was she; the order came so suddenly that +she and her maid had barely time to fling a few things in a couple of +steamer 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 to +hold him. + +Languidly she reached for her little gold mesh bag--the one thing that +never 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 the +rule that he whispered to her--also the squeeze he gave her hand, and +the kiss with the eyes. The Count had fine eyes--he could look much, +very much.... She smiled in retrospection.... Yet how did she drop that +bit of paper--and where?... Or did she drop it?... All the rest were +there. It was very peculiar.... She had referred to the De Neviers slip +on last Saturday--and she distinctly remembered that the Count's was +there at that time. Consequently she must have dropped it on Sunday when +she was studying the Rosny matter, and then she was in this room--and +Marston 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 anything +out of the words: + +_À l'aube du jour_. + + + + +XV + +IDENTIFIED + + +So it happened, that on the same day and practically at the same hour +Carpenter gave instructions looking to the pilfering of the French +private diplomatic cipher, Marston began to lay plans to test +Carpenter's venality, and Madeline Spencer betook herself to Union +Station to meet the man-in-the-case, whose face she had never seen, and +whose name she did not know. + +She went a roundabout way, walking down F Street and stopping to make +some trifling purchases in two or three shops. She could not detect that +she was being followed, but she went into a large department store, and +spent considerable time in matching some half-dozen shades of ribbon. On +the way out she stepped into a telephone booth, and directed the +dispatcher at the Chateau to send a taxi to Brentano's for Mrs. +Williams. By the time she had leisurely crossed the street the taxi was +there; getting in, she gave the order to drive to Union Station by way +of Sixteenth Street and Massachusetts Avenue. As she passed the Chateau, +she saw Mrs. Clephane and Harleston coming out; a bit farther on they +shot by in a spanking car. + +She drew back to avoid recognition; but they were too much occupied with +each other, she observed, even to notice the occupant of the humble but +high-priced taxi. At Scott Circle their car swung westward and +disappeared down Massachusetts Avenue; she turned eastward, toward +tomorrow's rising sun, Union Station, and the rendezvous--with hate in +her heart for the woman who had displaced her, and a firm resolve to +square accounts at the first opportunity. Mrs. Clephane might be +innocent, likely was innocent of any intention to come between Harleston +and her, but that did not relieve Mrs. Clephane from punishment, nor +herself from the chagrin of defeat and the sorrow of blasted hopes. The +balance was against her; and, be it man or woman, she always tried to +balance up promptly and a little more--when the balancing did not +interfere with the business on which she was employed. Madeline +Spencer, for one of her sort, was exceptional in this: she always kept +faith with the hand that paid her. + +At Union Station she dismissed the taxi and walked briskly to the huge +waiting-room. There she dropped the briskness, and went leisurely down +its long length to the drug stand, where she bought a few stamps and +then passed out through the middle aisle to the train shed, inquiring on +the way of an attendant the time of the next express from Baltimore. To +his answer she didn't attend, nevertheless she thanked him graciously, +and seeing the passengers were beginning to crowd through the gates from +an incoming train she turned toward them, as if she were expecting +someone. 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 the +gates, and there was no excuse for remaining, another five had gone. The +appointment was for three exactly. She had not been concerned to keep it +to the minute, but the man should have been; as a woman, it was her +prerogative to be careless as to such matters; moreover she had found +it an advantage, as a rule, to be a trifle late, except with her +superiors or those to whom either by position or expediency it was well +to 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 off +his hat and greeted her with the glad smile of an old acquaintance. + +"Why, how do you do, Mrs. Cuthbert!" he exclaimed. "This is an +unexpected pleasure, and _most opportune_." + +There was a slight stress on the last two words:--the words of +recognition. + +"Delightful, Mr. _Davidson_!" she returned--which continued the +recognition--taking his extended hand and holding it. + +"Can't I see you to your car, or carriage, or whatever you're using?" he +asked. + +"You may call a taxi," she replied; "and you may also come with me, if +you'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._" Which +completed 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 take +you 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 we +shall go and what we shall have." + +"You're always considerate and kind," he averred. "If nothing untoward +occurs, it will be a fine chance to talk over old times, to explain +everything, and to arrange for the future." + +"That will be charming!" + +"And unless I am disappointed in a _certain matter_, I shall have a +surprise for you." + +"I shall welcome the surprise." + +"We both shall welcome it, I think!" he laughed. "It seems a long time +since I've seen you, Madeline," he added. + +"It seems a long time to me, too, Billy. We must do better now, old +friend. Come to Paris and we'll make such a celebration of it that the +Boulevards will run with--gaiety." + +"I shall come. Meanwhile--tomorrow." He raised his stick to the taxi +dispatcher. "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 you +will and how." + +"I like you, Billy!" she exclaimed. + +"And I've something more to tell you," he whispered, as he put her in +and closed the door. "The Chateau!" he said to the driver then stepping +back, he doffed his hat and waved his hand. + +"Yes, I like you, Mr. Davidson," she smiled, as the taxi sped away, "but +I'll like you better when the present business is completed and I'm in +Paris--without you." + +He was a handsome chap enough, and he would have considerable money when +the 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 with +plucking for plucking's sake. She plucked still, but neither so +ruthlessly nor so omnivorously as of yore. She did not need; nor was she +so gregarious in her tastes. She could pick and choose, and wait--and +have some joy of _Him_ and take her time; be content not to pluck him +clean, 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 she +aimed--and her aim was usually true. Neither with one of her tastes and +tendencies was monogamy apt to be attractive nor practiced--though at +times it subserved her expediency. At present, it was the Count de +M----, 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, she +dwelt in the odor of eminent respectability and sedate gaiety. + +"Drive slowly through Rock Creek Park until I tell you to return," she +ordered the man when they had passed beyond the station; then withdrew +into a corner of the taxi, and busied herself with her thoughts. + +It was almost two hours later that she gave him the Collingwood as a +destination. + +At the Collingwood she dismissed the taxi, and without sending up her +name passed directly up to Mrs. Chartrand's apartment. + +Miss Williams, who was on duty at the telephone desk, saw her--and +whistled softly. The instant the elevator door clanged shut, she rang +Harleston. + +"If you can come down a moment, Mr. Harleston," she said softly, "I have +some 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 going +out. + +"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 on +up. 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 the +photograph of Madeline Spencer. + +"Sure thing!" she exclaimed. "That's she, all right. How in the world +did 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 to +detail now. Some day soon I'll confide in you, for you've helped me very +much in this matter and deserve to know. In fact, you've helped me more +than you can imagine. Meanwhile mum's the word, remember." + +"Mum, it is, Mr. Harleston," she replied, "For once a telephone girl +won'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. The +happenings of the recent evening were quite intelligible to him now: + +When the episode of the cab of the sleeping horse occurred, Mrs. Spencer +was in the Chartrand apartment. Marston, in some way, had learned of +Harleston's participation in the cab matter, and with Sparrow had +followed him to the Collingwood, entering by the fire-escape--with the +results already seen. The noise on the fire-escape was undoubtedly made +by them, and the long interval that elapsed before they entered his +apartment was consumed in reporting to her, or in locating his number. + +One thing, however, was not clear: how they had learned so promptly of +Harleston's part in the affair, and that it was he who had taken the +letter from the cab. Either someone had seen him at the cab and had +babbled to the Marston crowd, or else Mrs. Winton or Mrs. Clephane had +not been quite frank in her story. He instantly relieved Mrs. Clephane +of culpability; Mrs. Winton did not count with him. Moreover, it was no +longer of any moment--since Spencer's people knew and had acted on their +knowledge, and were still acting on it--and were still without the +letter. The important thing to Harleston was that it had served to +disclose what promised to be a most serious matter to this country, and +which, but for the trifling incident of the cab, would likely have gone +through successfully--and America been irretrievably injured. + +Madeline Spencer had assured him that the United States was not +concerned; that the matter had to do only with a phase of the Balkan +question. But such assurances were worthless and given only to deceive, +and, further, were so understood by both of them. Maybe her story was +true--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 such +a course was unthinkable; it would violate every rule of the game; it +would complicate relations with Germany, and afford her adequate ground +for reprisals on our secret agents. A certain code of honour obtained +with 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. I +have something important to discuss." + +"So have I," he replied. "I'll be along in an hour, or sooner if you +want me." + +"I want you, Mr. Harleston," she laughed, "but I can wait an hour, I +suppose." + +"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 with +me, 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 to +seven; 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 on +toward the door--just as the elevator shot down and Madeline Spencer +stepped 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're +bound 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 and +gave 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 the +non-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 precise +character of the business that brings me here. I've told you all I +know--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 do +less under all the--admitted circumstances; inferentially and directly +admitted." + +"Why did you--butt in?" she asked. "Why didn't you let the cab, and the +letter, and well enough alone?" + +"It was so mysterious; and so full of possibilities," he smiled. "And +when 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," she +retorted. + +"Possibly! I've never yet heard that personal feelings entered into the +diplomatic secret service--and no more have you, my lady." + +"Personal feelings!" she smiled, and shrugged his answer aside. "When +did you first know that I was concerned in this affair?" + +"When I saw you in the Chateau," he replied--there was no obligation on +him to mention the photograph. + +"Which was?" she asked. + +"The evening I met you in Peacock Alley. How long then had you been +here?" + +"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 well +understood what it imported and what prompted it. For the first time +the tigress had disclosed her claws. Hitherto it was always the soft +caress and the soothing purr--and when she wished, her caress could be +very soft and her purr very soothing. He had assumed that there were +claws, but she had hidden them from him; and what is ever hidden one +after a time forgets. And she had some justification for her resentment. +He admitted to himself that his attitude and manner had been such as +might cause her to believe that she was more to him than an opponent in +a game, that he was about to forgive her past, and to ask her to warrant +only for the future. And he had a notion that she was prepared to +warrant and to keep the warrant--even as she had done with the Duke of +Lotzen. Now it was ended. He knew it. + +And she knew it, too. One sight of Mrs. Clephane with him and she +realized that he was lost to her: Mrs. Clephane had all her outward +grace and beauty, but not her past. Her woman's intuition had told her +in the red-room of the Chateau; she knew absolutely when she saw his +greeting to Mrs. Clephane in the corridor after her escape. She must go +back to her Count de M----, her Cabinet Minister, and her Russian Grand +Duke. 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, when +another--outwardly her _alter ego_, save only in the colour of her +hair--appeared and filched him from her. And whether Dalberg's scorn or +Harleston'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 Dalberg +loved, so with an even more bitter hatred she hated Mrs. Clephane who +had won Harleston from her. For while with Dalberg she never had the +slightest chance, and knew it perfectly, with Harleston there was the +bitterness of blasted hopes as well as of defeat. + +And Harleston, sitting there beside her, the perfume of her hair and +garments heavy about him, read much that was in her thoughts; and some +remorse smote him--a little of remorse, that is--and he would have said +something in mitigation of her judgment. But a look at her--and the +excuse 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 best +to let the matter rest. Meanwhile, Mrs. Clephane must be warned of the +danger confronting her. + +He glanced again at her--and met her subtle smile. + +"This Mrs. Clephane," she remarked with quiet derision, "wherein is she +different 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 answered +my question. Wherein is Mrs. Clephane different from the rest of us?" + +"At the risk of being personal," he replied, "I should say that she is +very like you in face and figure and manner. If her hair were black, the +resemblance 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, an +answer 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, what +it 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 she +cleverer 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 as +intellectual." + +"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; but +Harleston was aware that underneath there was bitterness of spirit, and +cold 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 be +sure to catch the recoil, and because he himself was very fond of +her--despite all and Mrs. Clephane. He had seen his mistake in time, if +it was a mistake, but that did not blind him to Madeline Spencer's +fascinating manner and beautiful person, and to the fact that she cared +for him. However, neither might he let pass the charge she had just made +against 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 case +under such circumstances he played for time--the hotel was but a block +away--and made a mess of it, so far as the woman beside him was +concerned. + +"Who are a trifle tinctured--and with what?" he asked. + +She smiled languidly. + +"That is scarcely worthy of you, Guy," she remarked. "You are aiming +at--windmills; at least, I think you are not suddenly gone stupid. +However, you do not need to answer. Mrs. Clephane, you think, is not +tinctured, and you know that I have been--several shades deep. In other +words, she surpasses me in your estimation in the petty matter of +morals. So be it; you're no fool, and a pretty woman cannot blind you to +the facts for long. Then we shall see which you prefer. The woman who +is honest about the tincture, or the woman who is not. Now let us drop +the matter, and attend strictly to business until such time as the +present 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 drew +in to the curb. + +"So well, indeed," he continued, as he gave her his hand to the +sidewalk, "that I have to arrange for you to meet the Secretary of State +at 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--and +take my chances. From all I can learn, the gentleman isn't much but +bumptiousness and wind. To either you or me, Guy, he should be easy." + +"The play," Harleston explained, "is that the Secretary has heard of you +and wishes to see the remarkable woman who--almost upset a throne." + +"His wish shall be gratified," she shrugged. "Will you come for me, or +am 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 of +advantage to your--" + +"--beautiful and fascinating self," he interjected. + +She raised her eyebrows and laughed scornfully, as the lift bore her +upwards. + + + + +XVI + +ANOTHER LETTER + + +Harleston sauntered through Peacock Alley; not finding Mrs. Clephane, he +had himself announced and went up to her apartment. + +Outwardly he was impassive; inwardly there was the liveliest sensation +of eagerness and anticipation. He could not recall a time when he had so +much joy in living, and in the expectation of the woman. And when he +felt 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 dine +with 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, this +afternoon--in the Chartrands' apartment. And the telephone girl +recognized her as the woman who left the building on the night of +the--cab." + +"That explains a lot to you!" Mrs. Clephane exclaimed. + +"The explanation isn't necessary, except to complete the chain of +events," he replied. "We know the later and essential facts as to the +letter. 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 the +Spencer 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 at +the cab. Well, when they released me, I concluded I'd give them +something to think about, and I remarked that Mr. Harleston, of the +United States Diplomatic Service, had stopped at the cab, looked inside, +and then started the horse out Massachusetts Avenue. I thought I had +told you." + +"You didn't tell me, but it's very plain now. Madeline Spencer inferred +the rest and instructed them how to act. And they came very close to +turning the trick." + +"You mean to getting the letter?" she cried. + +He nodded. "I had gone to bed, when something told me to take +precautions; I carried the letter across the corridor and gave it to a +friend to keep for me until morning. A short time after, the three men +called." + +"Good Heavens!" she breathed. "What if they had gotten the letter." + +"Unless they knew the key-word, they wouldn't have been any better off +than 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 be +out of it and back to my normal ways that I gladly promise never to try +it again. I'm committed to seeing this affair through and to aiding the +French Embassy in whatever way I can, both because I must keep faith +with Madame Durrand, and because my inexperience and credulity lost it +the 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 do +or have done," he replied. + +For just an instant she gave him her eyes; then the colour flamed up and +she turned hastily away. + +"Sit down, sir," she commanded--most adorably he thought; "I had almost +forgotten 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 him +to a chair. + +"Madame Durrand has been located," she began. "The Embassy telephoned +me that she is in Passavant Hospital, getting along splendidly; and that +she duly wired them of her accident and of my having the letter, with an +identifying description of me. The wire was never received." + +"It was blocked by a _present_," he remarked. "The wire never left the +hospital." + +"So the Marquis d'Hausonville said. He also assured me that the letter +was of no immediate importance, and that steps were being taken to have +it repeated." + +"Which may be true," Harleston smiled, "but it is entirely safe to +assume that he is acting precisely as though the letter was of the most +immediate importance. You may be sure that the moment you left him he +dispatched a cable to Paris reciting the facts, so that the Foreign +Office could judge whether to cable the letter or to dispatch it by +messenger. And he has the reply hours ago."--("Also," he might have +added, "our State Department--only it may not be able to translate it.") +"I should say, Mrs. Clephane, that your duty is done now, unless the +Marquis calls on you for assistance. You have performed your part--" + +"Very poorly," she interjected. + +"On the contrary, you have performed it exceptionally well. You, a +novice at this business, prevented the letter from falling into +Spencer'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 said +slowly. + +Again the flush came--and her glance wavered, and fled away. + +"Meanwhile," he went on, "I am quite content to know that you think me +nice to you." + +She sprang up and moved out of distance, saying as she did so, with a +ravishing 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 the +particular 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 of +us--and the business in hand. Diplomats, you are well aware, are given +to very disingenuous ways and methods." + +"In diplomacy," he appended. "A diplomat, as a rule, is merely a man of +a little wider experience and more mature judgment--the American +diplomat alone excepted, save in the secret service. Therefore he knows +his mind, and what he wants; and he usually can be depended upon to keep +after 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 the +world." + +"You have succeeded!" he exclaimed. + +"I've about-faced," she went on. "Now I presume everybody trustworthy +until it's proven otherwise. Time was, and not so long ago, when I was +more than cynical; and I found it didn't pay in a woman. A man may be +cynical and get away with it; a woman only injures her complexion, and +makes trouble for herself. Me for the happy spirit, and side-stepping +the bumps." + +"Good girl!" Harleston applauded--thinking of her unhappy spirit, and +the hard bumps she must have endured during the time that the late +deceased 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 much +too 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 means +mysterious, which means diplomatic, which means deception--which warns +us 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 replied +tantalizingly and adorably. + +"I'm perfectly aware of it," he responded, leaning forward over the +back 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 am +ready too. Until then I'm your good friend--and dinner companion." + +He had spoken jestingly--yet the jest was mainly pretence; the real +passion was there and ready the instant he let it control. As for Mrs. +Clephane, Harleston did not know. Nor did she herself know--more than +that 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 took +it, 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; yet +it'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 not +paying a social visit." + +"You fancy correctly," Mrs. Clephane replied. "She came to the apartment +unannounced; and when I, chancing to be passing the door when she +knocked, opened it, and saw who was without, I almost cried out with +surprise. I didn't cry out, however. On the contrary, remembering +diplomatic ways, I most cordially invited her in. To do her justice, +Mrs. Buissard, beyond expressing hope that I had experienced no ill +effect from the occurrence of the other night, wasted no time in coming +to business." + +"'Mrs. Clephane,' she said, sitting on the corner of the table just +where you are sitting now, 'I have a proposition to make to you--may I +make it?' + +"I could see no reason to forbid, so I acquiesced. + +"'And if you cannot accept straightway, will you promise to forget that +it was made?' she asked. + +"Again I acquiesced. I admit, I was curious. + +"'We assume,' said she, 'that between France and Germany you are +indifferent.' + +"'Paris and Berlin have each their good points,' I replied. + +"'Quite so,' she acquiesced; 'just now, however, we ask you to favour +Berlin and for a consideration.' + +"'I don't want a consideration,' I smiled; 'tell me what's the favour +you seek?' + +"'We ask you,' she replied instantly, 'to take a letter to the French +Ambassador and tell him that it is the letter Madame Durrand gave you in +New York, and that it has just been returned to you by the American +State Department.' + +"'Have you the letter with you?' I asked. + +"'I have,' she replied, producing it from her bag. 'It may not exactly +resemble the original.' + +"'It doesn't,' said I. + +"'But the French Ambassador won't know it,' she smiled. 'Further, so as +to make the matter entirely regular with you, you will receive an +appointment in the German Secret Service and five thousand dollars in +advance.' + +"'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 to +take such a course as is proposed; there is nothing unusual about it. +And, my dear Mrs. Clephane, a position in the German Foreign Secret +Service is a rare plum, I can assure you, even though you may not care +to be--active in it.' + +"Naturally, I understood. Mrs. Spencer thinking me the same type as +herself, without conscience, character, or morals, had evolved this plan +either to test me or to ensnare me. To test me, because she is jealous +of you; or to ensnare me because she wants to win out diplomatically--or +both, it may be. I am a poor hand at pretence; but I played the game, as +you would say, to the best of my ability. So I seemed to fall in with +her scheme; France was nothing to me; I had been given no option in the +matter of accepting the letter and attempting its delivery; I had done +all and more than could be expected of a disinterested person; I had +lost the letter but through no fault of mine. I was acquitted of further +responsibility; was at liberty to choose. And Mrs. Buissard agreed with +me in everything. In the end, I accepted the spurious letter for +delivery to the French Ambassador." + +"Good!" Harleston applauded. "You're learning the method of diplomacy +very rapidly; fire with fire, ruse with ruse, deceit with +deceit--anything for the object in hand." + +"It went against me to do it," she admitted, "but I'll pay them in their +own coin--or something to that effect. Of course, I've no intention of +delivering the letter to the French Embassy. I'll deliver it to you +instead." + +"Delightful!" Harleston exclaimed. "You're a bully diplomat. However, +I'm not so sure that Spencer ever imagined her letter would reach the +Marquis. She's playing for something else, though what is by no means +clear. 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 single +sheet of paper--on which was an assortment of letters, set down +separately 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 the +Blocked-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 there +were. This letter is spurious; there is nothing to find from it, even if +we could translate it. It's intended as a plant; either for us or for +the Marquis; but I fancy, for us--so with your permission we will waste +no time on it further than to keep alert for its purpose. When were you +to 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 occupied +with meeting her on her own ground and playing the game. I was crazy to +get the letter so I could show it to you." + +"Which doubtless was what she too wanted; I can't see through her +scheme--unless it is to muddy the water while the main play is being +pulled off. And our men haven't discovered a single material thing, +though they have had Spencer and all the rest of the gang under shadow +since 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 man +who 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 independent +means, who lives at the Boulogne." + +"I'm acquainted with him," returned Harleston. "I can't think that he's +crooked. I reckon Spencer's figure and face attracted him--or probably +he has known her in Europe." + +"I'm only giving you the facts: he's the first man, other than those of +her entourage, that she has met since we've had her under surveillance. +It was at Union Station, this afternoon. She went there alone, after +loitering for an hour through the shops of F Street. In the train-shed +she chanced, seemingly by the veriest accident, upon Snodgrass. He +almost bumped into her as they rounded the news-stand. From their gaiety +they are old acquaintances; and after a word he turned and accompanied +her 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 he +managed 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. They +are 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 has +walked up Sixteenth Street frequently since four o'clock, and never once +glanced 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 with +Jimmy-the-Snake--a professional burglar of the best class. We are +watching The Snake, of course. Something will be done at the French +Embassy tonight, I imagine. Finally, at nine o'clock, Marston went to +Carpenter's residence and was admitted. He came out fifteen minutes +later, and returned to the Chateau. I assume that Carpenter will tell +you of this errand." + +Harleston nodded. + +"What shall be done as to Snodgrass--also as to Mrs. Spencer and one +o'clock tomorrow?" Ranleigh asked. "Do you wish me to prevent the +meeting?" + +"No," said Harleston, after a little consideration; "simply keep them in +view and follow them. I can't imagine Snodgrass being concerned in this +affair. It's the lady he's after, not her mission. It's likely he +doesn't even know she's in the Secret Service. However, keep an eye on +them; I may be mistaken." + +The telephone buzzed. Ranleigh answered, then passed the instrument +across to Harleston. + +"Is that you, Harleston?... This is Carpenter. I've just had a most +amazing proposition made to me. It will keep until morning, but drop +around 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--and +presto! There's small trick about that, old fox--except in knowing your +quarry. So long--and don't!" + +"If you don't mind, Carpenter, I'll stop on my way home. I'm just +beginning 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 I +imagine they are about to make a get-away with the goods." + +"Try to, Ranleigh, try to," Harleston amended. "They won't make a +get-away so long as we have Madame Spencer in our midst. Keep your eye +on the dark-haired loveliness; with her in the landscape the goods are +still here. Now for Carpenter." + +"Permit me to suggest a taxi!" Ranleigh observed. "It's just as well +that you shouldn't wander about alone on the well-lighted streets of the +National Capital--" + +"You think I might be suspended by the Interstate Commerce Commission, +or enjoined by the Federal Trades Commission, or be violating the +Clayton Anti-Trust Act?" + +"You might be any and all of them, God knows--as well as contrary to +some paternal act of a non-thinking, theoretical, and subservient +Congress. 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'd +better have this with you also," taking a small automatic from a drawer +of 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 on +the front piazza. + +"Your friend Marston is a very pleasant chap," he remarked; "also he has +a most astonishing nerve. He actually tried to bribe me for a copy of +the Clephane letter." + +"How did you meet it?" Harleston asked. + +"I was at a loss how to meet it--whether to be indignant and order him +out, or to be acquiescently non-committal. I chose the latter course; +and after a few preliminary feelers he came out with his offer: five +thousand dollars for liberty to make a copy of the original letter. I +thought a moment, then came back at him with the counter proposition: if +he would secure the key-word from the French Embassy, I would obtain the +letter; 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 offer +by a solemn assurance that the United States was not involved!" + +"Delightful!" said Harleston again. "I reckon you've seen the last of +Marston." + +"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 strictly +professional. 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 he +will submit it for a test with the letter. He knows his attempt to bribe +me failed, and that the only way he can have access to the letter is to +come with the key-word. And you need not fear that I shall let him copy +the 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, an +ex-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 Second +Secretary--if that's any indication." + +"Rather the reverse, I should say. However, he met Madeline Spencer +yesterday in Union Station. The meeting was apparently accidental, and +so far as his shadow could see or hear was entirely innocent." + +"I distrust the apparently accidental and the entirely innocent--in +diplomacy," Carpenter remarked. "We should keep an eye on Snodgrass." + +"Meanwhile what are _you_ doing as to the French key-word--trying for +it?" Harleston asked, going toward the door. + +Carpenter nodded. "I've got my lines out. I hope to land it in a few +days. 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 obligated +to Ranleigh to go in a taxi. The one in which he had come from +Headquarters he had dismissed, not knowing how long he would be at +Carpenter's, and he had neglected to telephone for another. He would not +go back to Carpenter's; and, anyway, it was nonsense always to be +guarding himself from the enemy. + +He had not a thing they wanted, nor did he know aught that would be of +use to them; and his directorship of the affair was not of great +importance; another, if he knew the facts, could take his place and see +the matter through. That was the important point, however. Time was +exceedingly material; and if the Spencer gang caused him to disappear +for a few days, they would have a free hand until Ranleigh or Carpenter +awoke to the situation. It was not exactly just to the cause for him to +take unnecessary chances. A drug store was but a short distance up the +street, 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 the +corner and bore his way. + +He raised his stick to the driver, in event of him being free--and +stepped out from the sidewalk. + +The man shook his head in negation and the machine flashed by--leaving +Harleston staring after it with a somewhat surprised and very much +puzzled frown. + +Madeline Spencer was in the taxi--alone. Furthermore, she had not seen +him. + + + + +XVIII + +DOUBT + + +At N, the next cross-street, the taxi turned west. Instantly Harleston +made for the corner. When he got there, the machine was swinging north +into 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 any +one on the street as far as Dupont Circle; and as thoroughfares radiate +from the Circle as the spokes of a wheel from the hub, the taxi could +have gone in practically any direction. + +So he gave over running--running after a taxi-cab was not in his +line--and resumed his walk northward. At Dupont Circle he found a lone +cab 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 you +see a taxi, get close to it." + +"I'll do hit, seh, yass seh!" said the negro, as he climbed on the box +and jerked the lines. + +But though they went out the avenue to beyond Sheridan Circle, and back +again, and along the streets north of P and west of Twentieth, no taxi +was seen--nor any trace of Madeline Spencer. They drove over the route +for more than an hour--and never raised a yellow taxi nor a skirt. +Finally Harleston abandoned the search and headed the cab for the +Collingwood. + +Miss Williams was on duty when he entered, and she signalled him to the +desk. + +"The Chateau has been trying to get you for the last half-hour," said +she. "Shall I call them?" + +"If you please," he replied, "I'll wait here." + +Presently she nodded to Harleston; he stepped into the booth and closed +the door. + +"This is Mr. Harleston," said he. + +"I recognize your voice, Guy, dear," came Madeline Spencer's soft +tones. "I'd know it _anywhere_, indeed." + +"The same to you, my lady," Harleston returned. "Was that what you were +calling me for?" + +"No, no!" she laughed. "I just wanted to tell you that I'm back at the +Chateau. I thought you might be interested, you know; you sprinted so +rapidly up N Street, and spent so much time driving around in a cab +searching for me, that I assume it will be a very great relief to you to +know that I am returned. It was such a satisfaction, Guy, to feel that +you were so solicitous for my safety, and I appreciate it, my dear, I +appreciate it. Meanwhile, you might wish to get busy as to my _alter +ego_. I saw her going up Sixteenth Street, as I was returning--a little +after eleven o'clock. Maybe _she_ needs assistance, Guy; you never can +tell. See you tomorrow, old enemy. Good-bye for tonight." + +"I say--are you there, Madeline?" Harleston ejaculated; then asked +again. When no one answered he hung up the receiver and came from the +booth. Spencer, that time, had put one over him; two, maybe, for he +_was_ concerned about Mrs. Clephane. Spencer had gone without her +shadow, been free to transact her business, and returned--and all the +time she knew of passing him and his pursuit of her, and was enjoying +his discomfiture. To add a trifle more uneasiness, she had thrown in the +matter of Mrs. Clephane. Probably it was false; yet he could not be sure +and it troubled him. All of which, he was aware, Mrs. Spencer +intended--and took a devilish joy in doing. + +Harleston made a couple of turns up and down the room; then he sat down +and drummed a bit on the table; finally he reached for the telephone. It +was very late, but he would call her--she would understand. + +He got the Chateau and, giving his name, asked whether Mrs. Clephane was +on the first floor of the hotel. In a few minutes the answer came: she +was not; should they give him her apartment? He said yes. Presently a +sleepy voice answered. He recognized it as Marie--the maid--and had some +difficulty in convincing her of his identity. He did it at last only by +speaking French to her--which, as he had hitherto addressed her only in +French, was not extraordinary. + +And, being convinced, she answered promptly enough that Mrs. Clephane +was not in--she had gone down-stairs about two hours ago telling her not +to wait up. She had no idea where Mrs. Clephane went; she had said +nothing about leaving the hotel. + +"Ask her to call me at the Collingwood the moment she comes in," said +Harleston. + +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 stay +with her and keep her from rash adventures," Ranleigh commented. + +"I quite agree with you," said Harleston. "Meanwhile I might inquire +where 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," Ranleigh +replied. "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. "She +hasn't a thing they want." + +"Granted; yet where is she? moreover, she promised me to do nothing +unusual 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't +appeared by nine o'clock, I'll telephone you." + +Harleston leaned back in his chair frowning. Washington was not a large +city, yet under certain circumstances she could be lost in it--and stay +lost, 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 plans +nor hinder them; she was purely a negative quantity. Spencer might be +striking at him through Mrs. Clephane, intending to hold her surety for +his 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 one +to waste time in methods, petty or inefficient. Of course, it might be +that she had merely twitted him about the episode, as a jealous woman +would do. + +And yet what could have taken Mrs. Clephane from the hotel at such an +hour, and without apprising her maid; and why was she driving up +Sixteenth Street? Or was Spencer's talk just a lie; intended to throw a +scare into him and give him a bad quarter of an hour--until he would +venture 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 and +whatever her idea Madeline Spencer had succeeded in disturbing him to an +unusual degree--and all because of Mrs. Clephane. + +At last he sprang up, threw on a light top-coat, grabbed a hat, and made +for the door. He would go down to the Chateau and investigate. Anything +was preferable to this miserable waiting. + +The corridor door was swinging shut behind him, when his telephone +buzzed. 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, "that +I'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's +rather interesting as to details. By the way, you must be sitting beside +the receiver expecting a call; you answered with such amazing +promptness!" and she laughed softly. "Shall I expect you at eleven, or +will 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 the +Chateau for you at half-after-three; you can give me the details then. I +shall 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--and +Harleston's grin almost flowed into the transmitter. + +"It is indeed!" he responded--then severely: "Where have you been, my +lady? 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 sure +will 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 you +are 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 the +morning--and Madame Brunette's doings. Good-night, _Mon camarade_." + + + + +XIX + +MARSTON + + +At nine o'clock the next morning, Marston tapped gently on the door of +Madeline Spencer's apartment, and was immediately admitted by the demure +maid; who greeted him with a smile, which he repaid with a kiss--several +of them, indeed--and an affectionate and pressing arm to her shapely and +slender waist. + +"I suppose monsieur wants to see my mistress," said she. + +"Now that I've seen you, yes, little one," Marston returned, with +another kiss. + +"Have you seen me, monsieur?" + +"Not half long enough, my love; but business before pleasure. There's +another now, so run along and do your devoir." + +She fetched him a tiny slap across his cheek, for which she was caught +and made to suffer again; then she wriggled loose, and, with a flirty +backward kick at him, disappeared through the inner doorway. + +In a moment she returned, dropped him a bit of curtsy, and informed him +that her mistress would receive him. + +He rewarded her with another caress, which she accepted with assumed +shyness--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 he +entered the boudoir. She was sitting up in bed, eating her rolls and +coffee--a bewildering negligee of cerise and cream heightening the +effect 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 the +effect of your wonderful personality." + +"My good Marston!" she smiled. "What a faithful friend you are; always +seeing my few good points and being blind to my many bad." + +"And being always," he added, bowing low, "your most humble and loving +servant." + +"I know it--and I am very, very grateful." She put aside the tray and +languidly stretched her lithe length under the sheet. "What have you to +report, Marston?" she asked. + +"I have to report, madame," said Marston, with strict formality of a +subordinate to his chief, "that I have procured the French code-book." + +"Good work!" she exclaimed, sitting up sharply. "However did you manage +it?" + +"By the assistance of one Jimmy-the-Snake. He visited the French Embassy +last night, and persuaded the safe to yield up the code. It would have +been better, I admit, to copy the code and then replace it, but it +wasn't possible. He had just sufficient time to grab the book and make a +get-away. Someone was coming." + +"You've accomplished enough even though we don't obtain the letter" she +approved. "I shall recommend you for promotion, Marston." + +She took the thin book and glanced through it until she came to the +key-words of the Blocked-Out Square--the last key-word was the one the +Count de M---- had given her. After all, the Count was not so bad; and +he was handsome; thus far dependable; and he was, seemingly at least, in +love with her. She might do worse.... Yet he was not Harleston; there +never was but one equal to Harleston, and that one was lost to her. She +shut her lips tightly and a far-away look came into her eyes. And now +Harleston, too, was lost to her; and--she lifted her hands resignedly, +and laughed a mirthless laugh. As she came back to reality, she met +Marston's curiously courteous glance with a bit of a shrug. + +"Pardon my momentary abstraction," she said softly; "I was pursuing a +train of thought--" + +"And you didn't overtake it," he remarked. + +"I can never overtake it. I haven't the requisite speed. Did you ever +miss your two greatest opportunities, Marston?" + +"I've missed my greatest," Marston replied instantly. "Oh--it was out of +my class, so I never started." + +"It may have been a mistake, my friend," she observed; "one never can +tell until he's tried it--and failed. I mightn't have missed had I gone +on another schedule. However, the past is to profit by, and to forget +if we can't remember it pleasantly. So let us return to the business in +hand, Marston; it's a rattling business and a fascinating, and at it you +and I are not to be altogether despised," throwing him a bewitching +smile. + +"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, and +bowed again. "By all means let us to the business in hand." + +He understood her nature better than she thought. The sympathy in her +was, for the moment, real enough, but it was only for the moment; the +love of admiration was the controlling note--what she sought and what +she played for. She felt the sympathy while it lasted, but it was the +effect as to herself, the selfish effect, that inspired the sensation. +When a beautiful woman stoops to sympathy, it is rare indeed that she +does not thereby arouse admiration for herself. Madeline Spencer may +have been cold and shrewd and selfish and calculating, yet with it all +she was warm-hearted; but the warm heart never got away with the cool +head--unless it was with that head's permission and for its benefit. She +played men--and men played her--but the man that had won was not yet to +be found. Two only of those whom she tried had failed to succumb to her +fascinating alluringness--and these two she had loved, and still did +both love and hate. + +"Returning then to the code-book and the letter," said she. "How about +the latter; have you found Carpenter susceptible to persuasion?" + +"To persuasion, no; to exchange, yes. Our agreement is that if I provide +the key-word, he will provide the letter in question. At ten o'clock +this morning the trick is to be turned." + +"And if the translation concerns the United States, he simply would turn +the 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 replied +slowly, "but it does not, however, reach quite to the last conclusion. I +may not explain now, Marston. Do you go to the meeting, with the +code-book as your only exhibit. It should be indisputable proof of your +good faith, and our honest belief that the letter does not concern the +United States. Moreover, you run no danger of imprisonment, for you'll +not effect a translation. But you must obtain a copy of the letter; it's +but a fair exchange for the French code, you know; and you're +permitted--nay you're authorized, in the interest of the service--to +allow Carpenter to copy the book if he will give you the letter to copy. +Furthermore, you may proceed leisurely in the process; there is no +particular haste; while they are occupied with the letter matter, there +is apt to be less activity along other lines. Only get a _copy of the +letter_; 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 is +up to you to procure the letter; I'll do the rest, if any rest is +necessary. We may be headed for Europe by evening, Marston; in which +event, 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," he +answered. It was much as a faithful dog would wag his tail and snuggle +up for a pat of the hand. + +She smiled straight into his eyes--a frank, appreciative smile, as +though an intimate camaraderie existed between them, and would never be +violated by either. She would have been in danger had she smiled that +way at some men; they would not have remained quiescent. And a little +more aggression by Marston might have been more conducive for +success--less of the faithful dog and more of the independent +subordinate 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 must +dress, and you're rather _de trop_ at such a time, however much you may +be 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, you +know. I've an appointment at one, and another at four, but I'll be here +at seven. If I'm detained, wait." + +When Marston had gone she turned over and composed herself for sleep--it +was two hours until she had need to array herself for luncheon and +Snodgrass.... Yes, Snodgrass was a very good-looking chap; her drive +with him last night had been very satisfactory; he had the requisite +wealth, so it might be just as well to let him become fascinated. It +would be at least a momentary diversion; something to occupy her for the +loss 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 she +would try it. If it failed, she would not lose more than she had already +lost. 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 the +Collingwood, the Cosmopolitan Club, or the State Department." + +"I'll call you," said the operator--and Madeline Spencer leaned back in +her chair and waited. + +Presently the call came. + +"I have Mr. Harleston for you," said the operator and switched on the +trunk. + +"Where are you, Guy?--this is Madeline Spencer," said she. + +"I'm at the Collingwood, Madeline. Anything I can do for you?" was the +answer. + +"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 to +effects. Her gown was a lustreless black silk, trimmed with gold and +made as plain as her modiste would--and the styles permitted. Her hair +was piled high, with an elongated twist; her dead-white complexion was +unmarred by powder or rouge, and beneath the transparent skin the blood +pulsed softly pink. + +Her toilet finished, and passed upon in the mirror, she sent her maid on +a shopping expedition which would occupy her until noon, and even +hurried her off. She wanted no one about, not even Elise, when she made +her last play at Harleston. + +Elise gone five minutes before the hour, she compelled herself to +outward tranquillity--while she strove for inward calm. And succeeding +wonderfully well--so well, indeed, that none would ever have suspected +the agitation seething under the cold placidity. Its only evidence was +in the gentle swing of her narrow foot, and the nervous play of her +slender fingers. And even these indications disappeared at the knock on +the corridor door; and she went almost blithely and flung it back--to +Harleston bowing on the threshold. + +"Punctual as usual!" she greeted. + +"Because I came to one who is always punctual," he replied, taking her +hand, nor dropping it until they were well inside the reception room. + +"Sit down, old enemy," said she, sinking into a chair and pointing to +another--which she had been careful to place just within reach. "You've +nothing much to do for a short while, have you?" + +"I've nothing much to do any time except to keep an eye on you!" he +laughed. + +"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 on +her hand, her eyes on him. + +"The only difficulty is that you are too alluring," he returned. "One is +prone to forget that his business is not to admire but to observe +dispassionately and to block your plans. You're much too beautiful, +Madeline; you usually make monkeys of all of us, and while we're held +fascinated by your loveliness you scoop the prize. It's not fair, my +lady; you play with--loaded dice." + +"Flatterer!" she said, melting into another pose. + +"Flatterer!" he exclaimed. "If you could but see yourself now, you would +confess the truth of the indictment. You're the loveliest thing, and you +grow 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, even +more alluring. + +"You know I mean it," he declared. "Haven't we agreed to be honest with +each 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 blew +the smoke sharply against the incandescent coal. + +"Guy," said she, "I'm about to speak plainly; please don't +misunderstand; I'm simply a woman, now--a weak woman, perhaps; it will +be for you to judge me at the end." She smiled faintly. + +"Not a weak woman, Madeline," he replied. "Your worst enemy would not +venture to call you that." + +He wondered what more was coming, and at what directed. Her tone and +attitude and deprecation of self were new to him. He had never seen her +so; always she was the embodification of calm, self-reliance, poise, +never flustered, never disturbed. A weak woman! It was so absurd as to +be ridiculous, and she was aware of it. So what was the play with so +bald a notice to beware? + +"No, no, Guy," said she. "You think it's a play, but it isn't. It's the +simple 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 ever +mystified. + +She carefully laid her cigarette on the receiver, then arose and leaned +against the table, her hands behind her. He arose also, but she +declined the courtesy. + +"Keep your seat," she said, "and don't be alarmed, I'm not preparing to +have you daggered or garroted. Entirely the reverse, Guy. I've decided +to offer terms: to capitulate; to throw the whole thing over; to betray +my mission and get out of the service forever. No, don't smile +incredulously, 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? Madeline +Spencer, the very Queen of the Service, betray her trust? Impossible!" + +"Thank you, Guy," said she. "I've never yet been false to the hand that +paid me--and sometimes _I've_ paid dearly for keeping faith. Now for the +first time,--and the last time, too, for if successful the service will +know me no longer--I am ready and willing deliberately to make a failure +of my mission, if you will take that failure as conclusive evidence of +my good faith." She bent a bit forward and threw into her words and +tones and attitude every grace that she possessed. "Will you do it, +Guy?" + +"When you ask that way," said Harleston, "who of mankind would refuse +you anything on earth." + +She was alluring, wonderfully alluring. Time was, and that lately, when +he would have succumbed. But that time was no longer; beside the +raven-hair and dead-white cheek was now another face, with peach-blow +cheek and the ruddy tresses--and the peach-blow cheek and ruddy tresses +prevailed. And so he had responded, sincere enough, in tribute to her +loveliness and in memory of what had been. + +And Madeline Spencer detected the absent note; but she ignored it. She +would go through with it--make her bid: + +"Almost you say that as though you meant it!" she smiled, and forced his +hand. Now he must either deny or affirm. + +"I do mean it," he replied. It was all in the game, and he was obligated +to 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 afford +him an inkling of her aim. Assuredly she had him guessing. + +For a moment she looked him straight in the eyes; then suddenly her +glance wavered, a faint flush crept from neck to cheek, and she smiled +almost bashfully. + +"Guy," said she, "I ask you to forget our profession if you can, and +take what I am about to say as free from guile or expediency--and of +supreme importance to me. I'm just a simple woman now, with a woman's +desires 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're +willing. 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 in +the future." + +"Upon what condition, Madeline?" he smiled, more puzzled than ever. He +was almost ready to believe she meant it. + +She caught her breath, hesitated, blushed furiously--and answered +softly: + +"Upon the condition that you marry me." + +For the instant Harleston was too amazed for words; and, despite all his +training in dissimulation, his surprise was evidenced in his face. Small +wonder he had been unable to make out the play--it was not a play; she +meant it. She was ready to throw her mission overboard to attain her +personal end. + +"Will you marry me, old enemy?" she whispered, putting out her hand to +him and smiting him with a ravishing smile--a smile such as she had had +for but one other man. It had been utterly lost on that other, but it +had almost won with Harleston; and it might have won now with him but +for another's smile, she of the ruddy tresses and peach-blow cheek. + +"My dear Madeline," said he slowly, holding her hand with intimate +pressure, "I cannot permit you to betray yourself for me. You are--" + +"Quite old enough in the ways of the world," she interjected, "to know +my 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 anything +be permitted to intervene?" Her hand still lay in his; her eyes held +his; her personality fairly enveloped them. With lips a little parted, +she bent toward him. "It's a bit unusual, dear, for the woman to +propose, to the man, but we are an unusual two, and the business of life +has shaken us free from the conventions of the drawing-room and frothy +society. 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 to +sacrifice yourself," he opposed. "There is a standard which neither cant +nor pretence nor false modesty can affect--the standard of honour." + +"Honour!" she inflected. "What is honour, such honour, when a woman +loves." + +"Nothing--and therefore must the love abide; honour can't abide once it +is lost." + +She shook her head sadly. "I'm afraid it's not so much my honour as your +love," she said. "A week ago, and I would have had a different +answer--in fact, I would have been the one to answer and _you_ the one +to ask. You know it quite as well as I; for when you left me that +afternoon in Paris, expecting to return in the evening, you were ready +to speak and I was ready with the answer. Then fate, in the person of an +unsympathetic Foreign Office intervened, and sent you on the instant to +St. Petersburg. We never met again until in this hotel. I have not +changed, but you have. I fear your answer does not ring quite true; it +isn'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 her +presence. + +"Madeline," said he, lingeringly freeing her hand, "I hardly know what +to say nor how to say it. I'm embarrassed, frightfully embarrassed; yet +you have been frank with me so I must be frank with you--even though it +hurts. I'm distressed to have been such a bungler, such a miserable +bungler, such a blind fool, indeed. The false impression must be due to +me; assuredly, without the most justifiable cause you would not have +drawn the erroneous inference. And a man who is responsible for that +inference with a woman of your experience and ability, Madeline, must +be more or less a fool, even though his intentions have been absolutely +correct." + +"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 us +forget this little talk, and go on as though it hadn't occurred--playing +our parts in the present game and besting the other by every means in +our power. I can't accept your offer, because I cannot pay the +consideration. It still must be _à outrance_ with us, Madeline; no +quarter 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 asked +mockingly; "or is Mrs. Clephane's character whiter than mine?" + +"That is not worthy of you, Madeline," Harleston reproved. "You're a +good sport; hitherto you've taken the count, as well as given it, +without the flutter of an eyelash--and over far more serious matters +than your humble servant, who hasn't anything to give him value." + +Again the sarcastic laugh. She knew he was playing the game, two games +indeed, the diplomatic and his own. He had never forgot himself nor +regarded 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 convincing +yourself. And when you--a man--do that, what is to be expected of a +woman--who is alone in the world? So I must accept your argument, and +your conclusions, and be content with my duty--and"--with a sudden +ravishing smile--"if I best you, Guy, you will have only yourself to +blame. I won't send Mrs. Clephane a present, nor will I wish you joy of +her, nor her of you; but _you_ won't look for it, and _she_ would think +it somewhat presumptuous in me to assume to know you. These red-headed +women are the very devil, Guy, after they've got you landed--also +before, but in a different way." + +"What's your game, Madeline?" he smiled. It had pleased her suddenly to +veer 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 fine +acting 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 the +extremely 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 an +intelligible 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 door +closed behind him. "I've no chance, it seems, against a red-haired +woman. The other one also had red hair." She seized a vase from the +table at her hand, and hurled it across the room. It crushed in +fragments 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 sent +in his card. + +It found Carpenter pacing up and down, and frowning at a paper spread +open on his desk. At the messenger's apologetically discreet cough, he +glanced around and took the extended card. + +"Show him in!" he snapped, and swept the paper from the desk and into a +drawer.... "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, I +believe," he remarked. + +"H-u-m!" said Carpenter thoughtfully, retrieving the paper he had just +swept into the drawer. "How are we to work it, Mr. Marston?" + +"As allies," Marston replied. "I'm perfectly willing to let you have the +book 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 the +letter does not involve, either directly or indirectly, the United +States. I understand that the letter is in the cipher of the Blocked-Out +Square; in this book there are two pages and more of key-words to this +Square, the last dozen or so of which are added in writing. If the +letter is in that cipher, we should have no particular difficulty in +finding the key-word. I would suggest, however, that we first try the +last 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 a +line and that he could remember the letters used, he was in for a shock. +No man living could remember twenty spilled alphabets; and if he +attempted to make a copy it could easily be prevented. The Fifth +Secretary spread the paper on the table. + +"Here is a copy of the cipher letter in question--we had it made large +for convenience," he explained. "The original is in the safe; you'll wish +to compare it with the copy, so we'll have it here." + +He gave the necessary order; when the letter was brought he passed it to +Marston. + +"I'll read the copy, if you'll hold the original," he said; and +proceeded to call off the letters with amazing rapidity. "Correct, isn't +it?" as he ended. + +"Yes!" said Marston returning the original to Carpenter. He wanted in +every way to disarm suspicion; moreover, a copy could be made more +readily from a large typewritten edition than from the small, written +original. "Now for the code-book and the last key-word--_à l'aube du +jour_, I think it is ... yes, _à l'aube du jour_, it is," and he handed +the 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 that +he 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 the +word, and the slip that Harleston had taken from Crenshaw's pocket-book +confirmed it. _À l'aube du jour_ was not the key-word but the key-word +was constructed from it by some arbitrary rule; and that rule was +susceptible of solution. After he was free of this fellow Marston, he +would solve the problem quickly enough. It was as sure as tomorrow. The +prescience 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, scarcely +without 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 of +AGELUMTONZN, and so forth." + +"I can't!" Carpenter smiled--and waited. Would Marston suggest the +transposed or elided word? + +"I'm disappointed," Marston confessed, "I thought sure we had it. Let's +try the next key-word in the book." + +They tried it, and the next, and all the rest. None of them translated +the letter. + +It took more than an hour; at the end, as a full measure of good faith +and because it was of no further use to him--he having preserved a +copy--Marston insisted that Carpenter retain the original of the French +code-book and have a copy made, after which the book could be returned +to him at the Chateau. During this hour and more his hand was in and out +in his side coat-pocket. When he left the room there went with him, in +that pocket, a copy of the original letter--roughly made by the sense of +touch alone, yet none the less a copy and sufficiently distinct to be +decipherable. For years Marston had practised writing in the dark and +under all sorts of handicaps. In his pocket, a number of small slips of +paper and a pencil were concealed. He would write a line, then take his +hand 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 not +the slightest intent to obtaining a copy--even tearing up the paper on +which were the various trial translations--that he completely deceived +Carpenter. When he left, the latter went with him to the elevator and +bowed him down. + +"I don't quite understand their game," Carpenter chuckled, as he turned +away, "but it's no matter. I took all the tricks this morning and still +have a few trumps left. I thought he certainly would try for a copy of +the letter, but he didn't even attempt it. He may have committed it to +memory, but I'll chance it." + +Returning to his office he gave the code-book another careful inspection +and confirmed his impression as to its being authentic. Then he laid it +aside, and took up the letter and _à l'aube du jour_! + +First he tried it in reverse position: _ruoj ud ebua'l à_. The +translation was gibberish. Then he wrote the first and last letters, the +second 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' and +tried the rest--still gibberish. He dropped also the 'l'--still +gibberish. Then, in turn, the 'a' of the third word the 'd' of the +fourth, the 'j' of the last word--all gibberish. Next he wrote the +key-word entire but transposed the 'a' from the first letter to the +last--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; the +code-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 the +printed 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 C +yielded E; the O and the D yielded R; the U and the E yielded T; the R +and the F yielded I. + +"_Averti!_" + +Carpenter gave a soft whistle of satisfaction. French, it was--his hunch +had not deceived him. The key-word was found! + +Swiftly he worked out the rest of the cipher, setting down the letters +of the translation without regard to words. "_Averti_" was evident +because 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 three +words, as well as the first, proved it; also that he had the correct +key-word. It only remained now to separate the result into words. And +this puzzle presented no difficulties to Carpenter; he quickly +marshalled it into form: + +"_Averti que l'Allemagne a engagé un officier à déceler la formule +sécrète des États-Unis employée à collodonnier la fulmi-coton pour la +poudre sans fumeée à l'artillerie de gros calibre; et que Madeline +Spencer, émissaire de l'Allemagne à Paris,--photographiè ci, incluse--a +été de chargée la recevoir. Ne se peut découvrir le nom du traître. +Spencer est partie pour New York sur la Lusitania qui doit arriver le +quatorze. À toute force interceptez la formule; ou empêchez à moins que +l'Allemagne ne l'obtienne. Spencer pas importante à la France._" + +And under it he wrote the English translation: "Informed Germany has +induced an officer to betray United States secret formula for colloding +process of treating gun-cotton for smokeless powder for high power guns, +and that Madeline Spencer, a German Secret agent in Paris, photograph +enclosed herein, is delegated to receive same. Cannot ascertain name of +traitor. Spencer sailed Lusitania, due New York, fourteenth. Take any +means 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 was +reluctant 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 whether +it was to be thumbs up or thumbs down for her Alluringness. Furthermore, +the meeting with Snodgrass now assumed much significance. Snodgrass was +an ex-army officer. Harleston must be warned at once. + +He tried for him at the Collingwood, the Cosmopolitan, the Rataplan, and +finally 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 the +translation. 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; he +would 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 of +the F Street elevator, was met by Snodgrass who had been walking up and +down the lobby. They took a taxi and sped away; followed closely by +another taxi, which their driver was most careful not to distance. A +second later Harleston entered the corridor. As he was about to greet +Mrs. Clephane, a man approached him and said: + +"They have started, sir; Burke's just behind in a taxi--and both drivers +are wise. They're bound for the Rataplan." + +"Follow them and wait just outside," Harleston ordered--and turned to +Mrs. Clephane. "I must go to the Rataplan at once," said he. "Let us +lunch there. The end of the affair of the cab of the sleeping horse is +in sight; I thought you might like to see it." + +"I want to see it!" Mrs. Clephane exclaimed. "Have you found the +key-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 Harleston +had 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 actually +delivers," he explained; "he has a confederate. Snodgrass is the +confederate, we think." + +"Is this secret colloding process of gun-cotton so tremendously +valuable?" she asked. + +"It's a secret for which any nation would give millions of dollars. It's +admittedly the most powerful explosive ever discovered, as well as the +easiest handled. Temperature, weather, ordinary shock have absolutely no +effect on it; in fire it simply chars and doesn't explode. Yet when it +is exploded by the proper method, lyddite, dynamite, and all the other +ites, are as a gentle zephyr in comparison. Now tell me about last +night; where were you?" + +"After you left," she explained, "I wrote some letters, and then went +into the corridor to drop them in the chute beside the elevator shaft; +as I approached, the car came down with Mrs. Spencer in it. Something +impelled me to follow her; and running back I grabbed a cloak, and +dashed for the elevator, catching it on the fly. She wasn't in the main +corridor; on a chance, I hurried to the F Street entrance; I got there +just as she stepped into a taxi and shot away. Instantly I called +another taxi and told the driver to follow the car that had just +departed. He did for a little way; but in a sudden halt of traffic at +Vermont Avenue and H Street, where, you may remember, the street is torn +up, we lost the other taxi; and though we drove around the north-west +section for more than an hour on the chance that we'd come up with +it--my driver knew the other driver--we never did come up with it. But +as we rolled up to the Chateau, Mrs. Spencer was alighting from a +limousine with a tall, fine-looking, fair-haired chap who had the walk +of a military man." + +"Snodgrass," Harleston observed. + +"She saw me; and, with a maliciously charming smile, nodded and went +on. In the corridor I came on some friends and we talked awhile. Then I +went 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 the +Club-House. + +He inquired of the doorman whether Mr. Carpenter was in, and another +servant, who overheard the question, added that Mr. Carpenter was in the +dining-room. Harleston and Mrs. Clephane went directly in and to a table +next to Carpenter's. Three tables away were Madeline Spencer and +Snodgrass. + +Harleston nodded to Mrs. Spencer and to Snodgrass, then spoke to +Carpenter 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 same +manner--and went back to his table. + +"Who is the woman with Harleston?" Snodgrass asked Mrs. Spencer. "I've +never 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," he +smiled. "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 quiet +earnestness, leaning toward her across the table. + +She shot him a knowing glance. Last night she had held him to strict +propriety. Today in the taxi she had deliberately set herself to +fascinate him, and had succeeded well. She had been demurely +tantalizing--holding him at a distance, letting him come a little +nearer, bringing him up sharply; all the tricks of the trade executed +with a perfection of technic and a mastery of effect. Snodgrass, with +all his experience, was but a novice in her hands; she always struck +directly at the affections--got them: and then the rest was easy. She +never lost her head, nor allowed her own affections to become involved; +save only twice--and both those times she had failed. Snodgrass, she had +learned through inquiries, had quite sufficient money to make him worth +her while; moreover, he was such a big, good-natured, dependable +chap--and a gentleman. If he had not been a gentleman he would not have +attracted Madeline Spencer for an instant. She dealt only in gentlemen. + +She had not told Snodgrass of the Clephane letter, nor anything as to +Harleston except to refer casually to him as the confidential emissary +in delicate matters of the State Department. She had found that +Snodgrass was not the actual man in the case; that he was simply a +friendly confederate, or rather, to use his own words, "a friend of +Davidson." She had expected that the package or letter would be +delivered to her in the taxi; but Snodgrass had told her as soon as they +were started that Davidson would forward it to him at the Rataplan by +mail, not later than the two o'clock delivery. He would get it as they +were leaving and transfer it to her, accepting the consideration as +specified by Davidson, and receipting for it. He said flatly that he did +not want to know the contents of the letter; he was doing this favour +for Davidson. He understood that it was to be entirely _sub rosa_ and +that nothing must ever transpire as to it. Therefore he was prepared to +forget the entire episode the moment it was over; the epochal meetings +with her he would not forget, nor would he permit her to forget him if +constant devotion and assiduous attention were of avail. To which she +had made a most demurely fitting answer, and the conversation thereafter +grew exceedingly confidential. Oh, they were getting on very well indeed +when the Rataplan was reached. And they were still progressing very +well--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 of +him; 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 Snodgrass +told her his name and position in the Diplomatic Service and that it +was reputed there was no cipher too difficult for him to solve. + +"We would better be very circumspect," she said low. "I think that these +two 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 was +sitting in the lobby. However, if you prefer, I'll let my mail go until +evening." + +"We can decide when we're through luncheon," she replied. "Haste is of +vital importance, my instructions say. I had hoped to get away on the +midnight 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 you +on 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 anything +near it. And even though I were, I'd not permit the wasteful +extravagance." + +She might have added that she had no objection whatever to his wasteful +extravagance, in fact, she would rather encourage it, if she were its +object. Only that must come later--after the present business was +finished, and they had sailed from New York. How long the extravagance +would continue was dependent on the depth of his purse and his +disposition. + +"Wasteful extravagance does not apply where you are concerned," he +replied. "However, we'll let Germany pay the consideration, and I'll +have that much more to spend on you." + +She rewarded him with one of her alluringly ravishing smiles and a touch +of her slender foot. She had him--and she knew she had him. She would +be Madeline Spencer once again--always having a victim, and always ready +for a fresh one. Since she had failed with Harleston, what mattered it +how many the victims, or what the price they paid. + + + + +XXIII + +CAUGHT + + +"Mrs. Spencer and her friend have reached some sort of an +understanding," Mrs. Clephane remarked. "She just smiled at him +significantly 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 has +been arranged, maybe even effected." + +Harleston nodded. With Madeline Spencer it was, he knew, business first +and personal matters afterward. + +"I think we shall see the end of the affair of your cipher letter and +its 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 keep +his hands off, you may believe." + +"You think either that Captain Snodgrass has the document in his +possession, or that he has given it to Mrs. Spencer?" + +"Or that it will come into his possession before they leave the +Rataplan, and be transferred to her here or in the taxi on their way +back 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't +part with it, even in her sleep, until she places it in the hands of the +official 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 the +time she and Snodgrass met at the Chateau this morning, they have not +been out of espionage and close espionage. So long as they are in a +taxi, or at the Rataplan, there is no danger of the document getting +away if either of them has it; but until we are certain that they have +it, we won't detain them; we want the document to aid us in running down +the traitor. I'm not at all sure that Snodgrass is aware of the +character of the document. He probably stipulated not to know; he will +be content with a division of the money--and with a chance to spend some +of it on Spencer; which spending she is quite ready to facilitate, as +witness the pleasant understanding they seem to have arrived at during +luncheon." + +"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!" he +smiled. "Moreover, it depends on circumstances just how it's to be gone +about--except that it ends in the office of the Secretary of +State.--Hush!" + +"The Secretary of State!" she exclaimed low. + +"I've an appointment to take Mrs. Spencer to meet his Excellency at four +o'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 anywhere +with 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 to +you because it's you, Mr. Harleston." + +"Permanently, my lady?" + +"Certainly not, sir. I refer only to this afternoon; I want to be in at +the 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, nodded +pleasantly 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 intimate +little look at Harleston, said confidentially: + +"I'll be ready at half-past three, Guy." + +"Very good!" Harleston answered promptly--when she was past, he looked +at Mrs. Clephane. + +"The cat!" she muttered; then smiled quizzically. "Such a pleasant air +of proprietorship," she observed. + +"Too pleasant," he returned. "I've something to tell you as to it and +her, when the present matter is ended." + +"Will it keep?" + +He nodded. "I can tell it better then--and have more time for the +telling." + +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 man +replied. "He received a small letter, which he opened; it enclosed only +another envelope, which he put in his pocket without opening. He +returned 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 you +shortly. 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 your +care. _À bientôt._" + +He hurried out. A taxi, waiting with power on, sped up; he sprang +aboard and it raced away. + +As it neared the Connecticut Avenue bridge, the taxi slowed down a +trifle 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 and +around Dupont Circle to Massachusetts Avenue, thence by it and Sixteenth +Street to H. The one in the lead continued on toward Fourteenth. +Harleston's shot down Fifteenth, flashed over the tracks at Pennsylvania +Avenue, swung into F Street, and drew in at the Chateau just as the +other came around the Fourteenth Street corner, and rolled slowly up to +the curb. + +As Snodgrass was assisting Madeline Spencer to alight--and taking his +time about it--Harleston glanced at his watch, sprang from his car, and +hastened over. + +"This is fortunate, Mrs. Spencer!" he exclaimed. "Just after you left +the Rataplan the Secretary of State telephoned that he was summoned to +the White House at four, and I should bring you an hour earlier. On the +chance of overtaking you, I beat it after you. Now if Captain Snodgrass +will permit you, we have just time to get over to the Department." + +"Will you excuse me, Captain Snodgrass?" she asked, with her compelling +smile. + +"A Secretary of State may not be denied," Snodgrass replied. "In this +instance 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 is +correct." + +"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 very +winning 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 ever +registered." + +"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," she +retorted. + +"We are fellow diplomats," he countered. "You did me a good turn in the +Du Plesis affair; I'm trying now to show my appreciation. Moreover, it +will give Snodgrass an opportunity to reflect on your beauty and +fascinating ways--and to look forward to eight o'clock." + +"It is pleasant to have something agreeable to look forward to," she +replied, ironically suggestive. + +"Isn't it?" he approved. "I don't know anything more pleasant--unless it +is 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 inward +chuckle. + +There was no occasion to explain that, by the latter premises, he meant +herself. His whole scheme was dependent on her having the traitorous +letter in her possession. He was quite sure Snodgrass had received it by +mail at the Rataplan; and why had he put the unopened envelope in his +pocket 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 had +hurried her off to the State Department, she must still have it. Of +course, there was the possibility that Snodgrass had not yet delivered +it; so Snodgrass was being looked after by others. + +"Won't you give me a line on his Excellency, Guy?" she asked. "Is he +easy, 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 Seventeenth +Street side of an atrociously ugly, and miserably inadequate building +that partially houses three Departments of the great American +Government. + +"Am I to be left alone with the great one?" she asked, as they went up +the 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 negro +messenger was waiting at the door of the reception room and he bowed to +the floor--a portion of the bow was for Harleston, but by far the +larger portion was for Madeline Spencer. + +"De Sec'eta'y, seh, am waiting for you all at onct, Mars Ha'lison," he +said; and ushering them across the big room to the Secretary's private +office he swung back the heavy door and bowed them into the Presence. + +As she passed the threshold, Mrs. Spencer caught her breath sharply, and +straightened her shoulders just a trifle. She saw where she stood, and +what was coming. Very well--she would defeat them yet. + + + + +XXIV + +THE CANDLE FLAME + + +The Secretary was standing by the window; with him were Mrs. Clephane +and Carpenter. + +"How do you do, Mrs. Spencer!" he said, without waiting for the formal +presentation. + +She dropped him--Continental fashion--a bit of curtsy and offered him +her slender fingers; which, as well as the rest of her hand, he took and +held. Its shapeliness together with her beauty of face and figure were +instantly swept up by his appraising glance. + +"Your Excellency is very gracious!" she murmured bestowing on him a look +that fairly dizzied him. + +Small wonder, he thought, that she was reputed the most fascinating and +loveliest secret agent in Europe--and the most dangerous to the other +party involved; it would be a rare man, indeed, who could withstand such +charms, to say nothing of the alluring and appealing ways that must go +with them. If he only might try them--just to test his own fine power +of resistance and adamantine will! He shot a quick glance of suppressed +irritation at Harleston--and Madeline Spencer saw it and smiled, turning +the smile toward Harleston. + +"I know what you are about to do," the smile said. "Now do it if you +can. You were afraid to trust me alone with this man; you knew how easy +he would be for me. Proceed with your game, Mr. Harleston--and play it +out." + +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 dazzling +than 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 without +so 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 days +ago, I thought that it was merely to enable an insignificant woman to +say that she had met a great dignitary and famous man. I think so no +longer. It has assumed an international significance. I am here not as +plain Madeline Spencer but as Madeline Spencer of the German Secret +Service. It seems that a certain letter intended for the French +Ambassador has gone astray, and has come into your possession; therefore +I am to be asked to explain the matter, though I've never seen the +letter nor know the cipher in which, I am told by Mr. Harleston, it is +written. So what is it you would of me, your Excellency?" + +"My dear Madame Spencer," said the Secretary, "what you say as to the +original reason for this little meeting, arranged by our mutual friend, +Mr. Harleston, is absolutely correct--except that it was a mere man who +was desirous of being presented to a beautiful and a famous woman. It +seems, however, that certain circumstances have suddenly arisen that +made 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 rather +America, would of me?" + +"The letter you have in your possession," said Harleston. + +"The letter!" she marvelled. "Why, Mr. Harleston, you know quite well +that I never had the Clephane letter." + +"Very true; we have the Clephane letter, as you style it; and we have +also a _translation_. What we want from you is the letter that Captain +Snodgrass took from his mail box at the Rataplan this afternoon, and +gave 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 the +table and play them open." + +"Double dummy, by all means!" she laughed, perching her lithe length on +the 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 at +one o'clock at the Rataplan. Your man Marston, when he visited Mr. +Carpenter this morning, managed inadvertently to furnish the key-word of +the Clephane letter. Do you see whither your meeting with Snodgrass, an +ex-officer of the Army, in view of the translation of the letter leads, +Madeline? Marston, I might remark, was quickly apprehended; if he made a +copy of the letter, he had no opportunity to use it. Well, you went to +the Rataplan with Snodgrass--every movement you two made, from the time +you joined Snodgrass at the Chateau until I myself put you in my cab +when you returned to the hotel, was observed by numerous and competent +shadows. We were convinced that you were to receive the formula--" + +"What formula, Guy?" + +"The formula mentioned in the Clephane letter," he explained; "which +formula you received from Snodgrass during the ride back from the +Rataplan to the Chateau. He received it there by post, and got it from +his box as you were leaving. He even was foolish enough to open the +original envelope, and to put the one enclosed, unopened in his pocket. +You immediately took a taxi for the Chateau. My taxi was close behind +yours; and I caught you as you were alighting and hurried you off to--" + +"This pleasant appointment!" she laughed. "I suppose, Guy, you want the +envelope and contents--which you assume Captain Snodgrass transferred to +me in the taxi; _n'est-ce pas?_" + +"Exactly, Madeline." + +"And it's three strong men and one woman against poor me," she +shrugged--"unless Mrs. Clephane is merely a disinterested spectator." + +"I am always interested in what Mr. Harleston does," Edith replied +sweetly. + +"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 this +formulaic letter, that you think I have, will end it, I am sorry indeed +to disappoint you. I haven't that letter, nor do I know anything as to +it." + +"In that event you have the consideration which you were to pay for the +letter," Harleston returned. + +"My dear Guy, where would I carry this consideration?" she laughed, with +a sweeping motion to her narrow lingerie gown that could not so much as +conceal a pocket. + +"I don't imagine that you are carrying gold or even Bank of England +notes. You're not so crude. The consideration is, most likely, a note to +the German Ambassador, on the presentation of which the money will be +paid in good American gold. And I'm so sure of the facts that it is +either the formula or the consideration. The latter we shall not +appropriate; 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 would +have answered he cut her short, courteously but with finality. "You've +lost, Madeline; now be a good loser. You've won from me, and made me pay +stakes 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 the +instrument over. + +"This is Ranleigh," came the voice. "We've searched the man, also the +cab, 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 the +receiver, "was to say that Mr. Snodgrass and the cab have been +thoroughly searched and nothing suspicious found." + +"Your intuition is marvellous," Harleston answered. "Major Ranleigh's +report was that exactly. Consequently, Madeline, the letter must be with +you." + +"How about the consideration that Captain Snodgrass received from me in +return for the formulaic letter?" she asked. "He doesn't seem to have +had it." + +"Maybe you managed both to get the letter from him and to keep the +consideration. It would not be the first time I have known you to +accomplish 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 pad +before him and looking calmly at her--as impersonal as though she were a +door-jamb; and she understood; however much he might be inclined to aid +her, this was not the time for him even to appear interested. On another +occasion, _à deux_, he would display sufficient ardour and admiration. +At present it must be the impassive face and the judicial manner. The +business of the great Government he had the honour to represent was at +issue! + +There being no help from that high and mighty quarter, she turned to +Harleston. + +"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 the +Secretary's heart. + +He gave a shout--and sat perfectly still. Mrs. Clephane, with an +exclamation of fear, laid her hand on Harleston's arm. Carpenter was +impassive. 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. Speak +your 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 Secretary +remarked 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 all +fearful for your Excellency. Mrs. Spencer won't shoot; she's only +bluffing. 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 levelled +revolver. + +"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 to +be the one to call it; the result was quite too uncertain. He had never +looked into the muzzle of a revolver, and he found the experience +distinctly unpleasant--she held the barrel so steady and pointed +straight at his heart. Diplomatic secrets were wanted of course, but +they 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," she +replied, "I prefer to shoot you, if necessary--though I trust it won't +be necessary. What's a mere scrap of paper, without value save as a +means to detect its author, compared to the life of the greatest +American diplomat? Moreover, the letter would yield you nothing as to +its meaning nor its author. The meaning you already know, since you have +found the key-word to the cipher; so only the author remains; and as it +is typewritten you will have small, very small, prospect from it." She +had 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 and +quite ready to give our lives for our country, if the sacrifice will +benefit it in the very least; yet I can't see the obligation in this +instance, can you Harleston?" + +"None in the least, sir, provided your life were at issue," Harleston +answered. "For my part, I think it isn't even seriously threatened. If +Mrs. Spencer will shift her aim to me, I'll take a chance." + +Mrs. Clephane gave a suppressed exclamation and an involuntary motion of +protest--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 matter +aside, she turned to the Secretary. "Since we two are of one mind in the +affair before us, your Excellency," she observed, "I fancy I may take it +as settled. Nevertheless you will pardon me if I don't depress my aim +until we have attended to a little matter; it will occupy us but a +moment," making a step nearer the desk and away from the others, yet +still 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 the +situation. + +"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 your +Excellency to light the aforesaid candle?" + +The Secretary promptly struck a match, and managed with a most unsteady +hand to touch it to the wick. + +As the flame flared up, she drew a narrow envelope from her bag and +tossed 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 a +single sheet of the thinnest texture used for foreign correspondence. He +looked 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, your +Excellency, will you place the envelope in the candle's flame?" + +The Secretary took the envelope by the tip of one corner and held it in +the blaze until it was burned to his fingers--no writing was disclosed. + +"Now the letter, please?" she directed. And when Carpenter would have +protested, she cut him short with a peremptory gesture. "Don't +interrupt, sir!" she exclaimed. + +And Carpenter laughed softly and did nothing more--being, with +Harleston, in enjoyment of their chief's discomfiture. + +"The letter--see--your Excellency," she repeated with a bewildering +smile. + +And as the flame crept down the thin sheet, just ahead of it, apparent +to them all, crept also the writing, brought out by the heat. In a +moment it was over; the last bit of the corner burning in a brass tray +where the Secretary had dropped it. + +"Now, Mr. Harleston," said Madeline Spencer, lowering her revolver as +the final flicker of the flame expired, "I am ready to submit to a +search." + +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 the +waiting-room, she will officiate in the matter. We're not likely to find +anything, but it's to provide against the chance."--And turning to +Madeline Spencer: "Whatever the outcome, madame, you will leave +Washington tonight and sail from New York on the morrow; and I should +advise you to remain abroad so long as you are in the Diplomatic +Service." + +And she--knowing very well that the search was necessary, and aware that +while there was nothing incriminating upon her yet from that moment, +until the ship that carried her passed out to sea, she would be under +close espionage--answered, pleasantly as though accepting a courtesy +tendered, and with a winning smile: + +"I had arranged to sail tomorrow, Mr. Harleston so it will be just as +intended. Meanwhile, I'm at the service of your female assistant. She +will find nothing, I assure you." + +"Give me the pleasure of conducting you to her," Harleston replied, and +swung open the door. + +"If Mrs. Clephane will trust you with me," she inflected, flouting the +other with a meaning look; which look flitted across the room to the +Secretary and changed to one of interrogation as it met his eyes--calm +eyes and steady, and with never a trace of the interest that she knew +was behind them, yet dared not show--yet awhile. + +And Mrs. Clephane answered her look by a shrug; and Harleston answered +that to the Secretary by a soft chuckle. As the door closed behind +them, 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 other +opponents." + +"And we'll call this--" + +"A stale-mate! I didn't win everything, yet what I lost was of no +moment--" + +"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 one +of 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, as +she and Harleston came down the steps into the Avenue. + +Harleston leaned over. "I'll confide to you that he is an egotistical +and insufferable old ass," he whispered. + +"And yet he thinks he is a perfect fascinator with the ladies!" she +laughed. "Even now he is contemplating what a conquest he made of Mrs. +Spencer. It was great fun to watch her playing him; and then how +suddenly he pulled himself up and assumed a judicial manner--which +deceived no one. Certainly it didn't deceive her, for the flying look +she gave him, as she went out, was the cleverest thing she did. It told +him everything he wanted to know, and simply gorged his vanity. She may +be, doubtless is, a bad, bad lot; yet nevertheless I can't help liking +her--and for finesse and skill she is a wonder." Then she looked at him +demurely. "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 to +dinner this evening." + +"I wasn't aware that we were to dine together In fact, I was thinking of +doing 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 her +cheek; she understood that he asked of her something more than a mere +dinner. And, after a pause, she answered softly, yet not so softly but +that he heard: + +"If you wish it, Monsieur Harleston." + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CAB OF THE SLEEPING HORSE*** + + +******* This file should be named 15094-8.txt or 15094-8.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/5/0/9/15094 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + diff --git a/old/15094.txt b/old/15094.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..35c5456 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/15094.txt @@ -0,0 +1,9235 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Cab of the Sleeping Horse, by John Reed +Scott, Illustrated by William van Dresser + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: The Cab of the Sleeping Horse + +Author: John Reed Scott + +Release Date: February 18, 2005 [eBook #15094] +[Date last updated: March 5, 2005] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CAB OF THE SLEEPING HORSE*** + + +E-text prepared by Juliet Sutherland, Josephine Paolucci, Joshua +Hutchinson, and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team + + + +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 Company +Publishers New York +Published by arrangement with G.P. Putnam's Sons + +1916 + + + + + + + +[Illustration: SHE THREW UP HER HAND, AND A NASTY LITTLE AUTOMATIC +WAS 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 and +watched 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 occasion +demands, 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 introducing +her to this company. Moreover," as he drew out his watch, "it is +half-after-twelve of a fine spring night, and, unless we wish to be +turned 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 lies +athwart your path." + +"I don't think you make good company, anyway, with your questions and +your 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 as +expediency or her notion suits her. Her maiden name was Madeline +Cuthbert. She married a Colonel Spencer of Ours; he divorced her, after +she had eloped with a rich young lieutenant of his regiment. She didn't +marry 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 the +pavement with his stick. "Afterward she had various adventures with +various wealthy men, and always won. Her particularly spectacular +adventure was posing, at the instigation of the Duke of Lotzen, as the +wife of the Archduke Armand of Valeria; and she stirred up a mess of +turmoil 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 years +later. Which death, despite the authorized report, was not natural: the +King of Valeria killed him in a sword duel in Ferida Palace on the +principal street of Dornlitz. The lady then betook herself to Paris and +took up her present life of extreme respectability--and political +usefulness to our friends of Wilhelm-strasse. In fact, I understand that +she has more than made good professionally, as well as fascinated at +least 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 far +as I know, she has never been false to the hand that paid her." + +"Which, in her position, is the cleverest thing of all!" Clarke +remarked. + +They passed the English Legation, a bulging, three-storied, red brick, +dormer-roofed atrocity, standing a few feet in from the sidewalk; ugly +as original sin, externally as repellent as the sidewalk and the narrow +little drive under the _porte-cochere_ are dirty. + +"It's a pity," said Clarke, "that the British Legation cannot afford a +man-servant to clean its front." + +"No one is presumed to arrive or leave except in carriages or motor +cars," Harleston explained. "_They_ can push through the dirt to the +entrance." + +"Why, would you believe it," Clarke added, "the deep snow of last +February lay on the walks untouched until well into the following day. +The blooming Englishmen just then began to appreciate that it had snowed +the previous night. Are they so slow on the secret-service end?" + +"They have quite enough speed on that end," Harleston responded. "They +are 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 her +family before her, I've been interested to watch her travelling--her +remarkable career. And it has been a career, Clarke; believe me, it's +been a career. For pure cleverness, and the appreciation of +opportunities with the ability to grasp them, the devil himself can't +show 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 to +present you to her." + +"Doesn't she ever come to America?" + +"I think not. She says the Continent, and Paris in particular, is good +enough for her." + +Harleston left Clarke at Dupont Circle and turned down Massachusetts +Avenue. + +The broad thoroughfare was deserted, yet at the intersection of +Eighteenth Street he came upon a most singular sight. + +A cab was by the curb, its horse lying prostrate on the asphalt, its box +vacant of driver. + +Harleston stopped. What had he here! Then he looked about for a +policeman. Of course, none was in sight. Policemen never are in sight on +Massachusetts Avenue. + +As a general rule, Harleston was not inquisitive as to things that did +not concern him--especially at one o'clock in the morning; but the +waiting cab, the deserted box, the recumbent horse in the shafts excited +his curiosity. + +The cab, probably, was from the stand in Dupont Circle; and the cabby +likely was asleep inside the cab, with a bit too much rum aboard. +Nevertheless, the matter was worth a step into Eighteenth Street and a +few seconds' time. It might yield only a drunken driver's mutterings at +being disturbed; it might yield much of profit. And the longer Harleston +looked the more he was impelled to investigate. Finally curiosity +prevailed. + +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 a +snort it struggled to its feet, then looked around apologetically at +Harleston, as though begging to be excused for having been caught in a +most reprehensible act for a cab horse. + +"That's all right, old boy," Harleston smiled. "You doubtless are in +need of all the sleep you can get. Now, if you'll be good enough to +stand 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 at +the 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 equipment +of the cab. The pockets on the doors yielded nothing. He turned up the +cushion and felt under it: nothing. On the floor, however, was a woman's +handkerchief, filmy and small, and without the least odour clinging to +it. + +"Strange!" Harleston muttered. "They are always covered with perfume." + +Moreover, while a very expensive handkerchief, it was without +initial--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 the +far corner. From certain abrasions in the stems, he concluded that they +had been torn, or loosed, from a woman's corsage. + +He felt again--then he struck a match, leaning well inside the cab so +as to hide the light as much as possible. + +The momentary flare disclosed a square envelope standing on edge and +close in against the seat. Extinguishing the match, he caught it up. + +It was of white linen of superior quality, without superscription, and +sealed; the contents were very light--a single sheet of paper, likely. + +The handkerchief, the crushed roses, the unaddressed, sealed +envelope--the horse, the empty and deserted cab, standing before a +vacant lot, at one o'clock in the morning! Surely any one of them was +enough to stir the imagination; together they were a tantalizing +mystery, calling for solution and beckoning one on. + +Harleston took another look around, saw no one, and calmly pocketed the +envelope. Then, after noting the number of the cab, No. 333, he gathered +up the lines, whipped the ends about the box, and chirped to the horse +to proceed. + +The horse promptly obeyed; turned west on Massachusetts Avenue, and +backed up to his accustomed stand in Dupont Circle as neatly as though +his 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 he +had some trouble in convincing the lad that the sixth was his floor. In +fact, Harleston's mind being occupied with the recent affair, he would +have let himself be put off at the fourth floor, if he had not happened +to notice the large gilt numbers on the glass panel of the door opposite +the elevator. The bright light shining through this panel caught his +eye, and he wondered indifferently that it should be burning at such an +hour. + +Subsequently he understood the light in No. 401; but then it was too +late. Had he been delayed ten seconds, or had he gotten off at the +fourth floor, he would have--. However, I anticipate; or rather I +speculate on what would have happened under hypothetical +conditions--which is fatuous in the extreme; hypothetical conditions +never are existent facts. + +Harleston, having gained his apartment, leisurely removed from his +pockets the handkerchief, the roses, and the envelope, and placed them +on the library table. With the same leisureliness, he removed his light +top-coat and his hat and hung them in the closet. Returning to the +library, he chose a cigarette, tapped it on the back of his hand, struck +a match, and carefully passed the flame across the tip. After several +puffs, taken with conscious deliberation, he sat down and took up the +handkerchief. + +This was Harleston's way: to delay deliberately the gratification of his +curiosity, so as to keep it always under control. An important +letter--where haste was not an essential--was unopened for a while; his +morning newspaper he would let lie untouched beside his plate for +sufficiently long to check his natural inclination to glance hastily +over the headlines of the first page. In everything he tried by +self-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 he +had broken over and lost his poise only that afternoon. He wanted to +know what was inside that blank envelope. He was persuaded it contained +that which would either solve the mystery of the cab, or would in itself +lead on to a greater mystery. In either event, a most interesting +document 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 the +drop-light and with the aid of a microscope. Not a mark to indicate who +carried it nor whence it came.--Yet stay; in the closed room he detected +what had been lost in the open: a faint, a very faint, odour as of +azurea sachet. It was only a suggestion; vague and uncertain, and +entirely absent at times. And Harleston shook his head. The very fact +that there was nothing about it by which it might be identified +indicated the deliberate purpose to avoid identification. He put it +aside, and, taking up the roses, laid them under the light. + +They were the usual American Beauties; only larger and more gorgeous +than the general run--which might be taken as an indication of the +wealth of the giver, or of the male desire to please the female; or of +both. Of course, there was the possibility that the roses were of the +woman's own buying; but women rarely waste their own money on American +Beauties--and Harleston knew it. A minute examination convinced him that +they 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 were +scarred as by a heel; the rest of the blooms were crushed but not +scarred. Which indicated violence--first gentle, then somewhat drastic. + +He put the flowers aside and picked up the envelope, looked it over +carefully, then, with a peculiarly thin and very sharp knife, he cut the +sealing of the flap so neatly that it could be resealed and no one +suspect it had been opened. As he turned back the flap, a small +unmounted 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. "This +is quite a surprise. You're taken very recently, and you're worth +looking at for divers aesthetic reasons--none of which, however, is the +reason 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 it +out without the key-word; and the key-word--" he gave a shrug. "I'll let +Carpenter try his hand on it; it's too much for me." + +He knew from experience the futility of attempting the solution of a +cipher by any but an expert; and even with an expert it was rarely +successful. + +As a general rule, the key to a secret cipher is discovered only by +accident or by betrayal. There are hundreds of secret ciphers--any +person can devise one--in everyday use by the various departments of the +various governments; but, in the main, they are amplifications or +variations of some half-dozen that have become generally accepted as +susceptible of the quickest and simplest translation with the key, and +the most puzzling without the key. Of these, the Blocked-Out Square, +first used by Blaise de Vigenerie in 1589, is probably still the most +generally employed, and, because of its very simplicity, the most +impossible 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 any +reasonable number. Simply apply it to the alphabetic Blocked-Out Square +and the message is evident; no books whatever are required. A slip of +paper and a pencil are all that are necessary; any one can write the +square; 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 that +the key-word is: "In the inn." Write the key-word and under it the +message: + + 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 two +lines 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 yield +V, and so on, until the completed message is: + + BBFVVZBJAHKL + +The translator of the cipher message simply reverses this proceeding. He +knows 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 that +line, T, is the first letter of the message--and so on. + +Simple! Yes, childishly simple with the key-word; and the key-word can +be carried in one's mind. Without the key-word, translation is +impossible. + +Harleston put down the paper and leaned back. + +Altogether it was a most interesting collection, these four articles on +the table. It was a pity that the cab and the sleeping horse were not +among the exhibits. Number one: a lady's lace handkerchief. Number two: +three American Beauty roses, somewhat the worse for wear and violent +usage. Number three: a cipher message. Number four: photograph of +Madame--or Mademoiselle--de Cuthbert, de Spencer, de Lotzen. There was a +pretty plot behind these exhibits; a pretty plot, or he missed his +guess. It might concern the United States--and it might not. It would be +his duty to find out. Meanwhile, the picture stirred memories that he +had thought long dead. Also it suggested possibilities. It was some +years since they had matched their wits against each other, and the last +time she rather won out--because all the cards were hers, as well as the +_mise en scene_. 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; and +presently 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 could +almost wish that they might be again; with a different _mise en scene_, +and a different ending--and a different client for his. He was becoming +almost sentimental--and he was too old a bird for sentiment, and quite +too old at this game; which had not any sentiment about it that was not +pretence and sham. Yet it was a good game--a mighty entertaining game; +where one measured wits with the best, and took long chances, and played +for 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 another +deal 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; and +I take it you are, else why this picture. Yet to induce you to break +your rule and cross the Atlantic, the moving consideration must be of +the utmost weight, or else it's purely a personal matter. H-u-m! Under +all the circumstances, I should say the latter is the more likely. In +which event, I may not be concerned further than to return these--" with +a wave of his hand toward the exhibits. + +For a while longer he sat in silence, eyes half closed, lips a bit +compressed; a certain sternness, that was always in his countenance, +showing plainest when in reflective thought. At last, he smiled. Then he +lit another cigarette, took up the letter and the photograph, and put +them in the small safe standing behind an ornate screen in the +corner--not, however, without another look at the calmly beautiful face. + +The roses he left lie on the table; the steel safe would not preserve +them in _statu quo_; moreover, he knew, or thought he knew, all that +they could convey. He swung the door shut; then swung it open, and +looked again at the picture--and for sometime--before he put it up and +gave the knob a twirl. + +"I'm sure bewitched!" he remarked, going on to his bedroom. "It's not +difficult for me to understand the Duke of Lotzen. He was simply a +man--and men, at the best, are queer beggars. No woman ever understands +us--and no more do we understand women. So we're both quits on that +score, if we're not quite on some others." Then he raised his hands +helplessly, "Oh, Lord, the petticoats, the petticoats!" + +Just then the telephone rang--noisily as befits two o'clock in the +morning. + +"Who the devil wants me at such an hour?" he muttered. + +The clang was repeated almost instantly and continued until he unhooked +the receiver. + +"Well!" he said sharply. + +"Is that Mr. Harleston?" asked a woman's voice. A particularly soft and +sweet 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 you +are 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't +like sarcasm when I'm the cause of it." + +"You're the cause of it but not the object of it," he assured her. "I'm +quite sure I've never met you, and just as sure that I hope to meet you +today." + +"Your hope, Mr. Harleston, is also mine. But why, may I ask, do you call +me 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 divorcee." + +"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 divorcee." + +"All of which is charming of you, Mr. Harleston but it's not exactly the +business 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 becoming +convinced 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 and +forget 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 in +hand." + +"And the business in hand depends primarily on whether you are +interested in the subject matter of the business, _n'est-ce pas_?" + +"I am profoundly interested, mademoiselle, in any matter that concerns +you--as well as in yourself. Who would not be interested in one so +impulsive--and anything so important--as to call him on the telephone at +two 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 the +talk. Maybe there was not any idea in it, just a feminine notion; yet +something in the very alluring softness of her voice told him otherwise. + +"You guessed it," he replied. "I was not asleep. Also I might guess +something in regard to your business." + +"What?" + +"No, no, mademoiselle! It's impertinent to guess about what does not +concern me--yet." + +"Delete the word 'yet,' Mr. Harleston, and substitute the idea that it +was--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 to +be specific, you would say; though I might respond that you've known all +along what my business is with you." + +"The name of an individual is a prerequisite to the transaction of +business," 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 not +met, and you desire to talk business." + +"And I'm going to talk business!" she laughed. "And I shall not give +you 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, "I +haven't a word to say. Pray begin." + +"Being assured now that you have never before heard my voice, and that +you have it fixed sufficiently in your memory--all of which, Mr. +Harleston, wasn't in the least necessary, for we shall meet today--we +will proceed. Ready?" + +"Ready, mademoiselle--I mean Madame X." + +"What do you intend to do, sir, in regard to the incident of the +deserted 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 my +question." + +"For a moment, a mere man may have had a clever woman's intuition," he +replied. + +"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 as +you are concerned, and to have matters take their intended course. It's +to 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, as +you desire to be told, I'll tell you. I wish you to forget that you saw +anything unusual on your way home this morning, and to return the +articles 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!" she +laughed. + +She had not missed the handkerchief, or else she thought it of no +consequence. + +"Assuming, for the moment, that I have the articles in question, how are +they 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 momentary +pause. "And the place?" + +"Where you will," he answered. He wanted her to fix it so that he could +judge of her good faith. + +And she understood. + +"I'm not arranging to have you throttled!" she laughed. "Let us say the +corridor of the Chateau--that is safe enough, isn't it?" + +"Don't you know, Madame X, that Peacock Alley is one of the most +dangerous 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 your +adorable 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 wear +three 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 the +paper-knife, with which he was spearing tiny holes in the blotter of the +pad. "Peacock Alley at five--but there are a few matters that come +first." + +He went straight to the safe, unlocked it, took out the photograph, the +cipher message, and the handkerchief, carried these to the table and +placed them in a large envelope, which he sealed and addressed to +himself. Then with it, and the three American Beauties, he passed +quickly into the corridor and to an adjoining apartment. There he rang +the bell vigorously and long. + +He was still ringing when a dishevelled figure, in blue pajamas and a +scowl, 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 me +until 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 turned +and flung them into a corner of the living-room. + +"Hell!" he said in disgust. "Harleston's either crazy or in love: it's +the same thing anyway." + +He slammed the door and went back to bed. + +Harleston, chuckling, returned to his quarters; retrieved from the floor +a leaf and a petal and tossed them out of the window. Then, being +assured by a careful inspection of the room that there were no further +traces 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 at +the 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 sill +was wide and offered an easy footing. If the window were up, one could +easily step inside; or, even if it were not, the catch could be slipped +in a moment. + +Harleston's window, however, was up--invitingly up; also the window on +the passage; it was a warm night and any air was grateful. + +He lay quite still and waited developments. They came from another +quarter: the corridor on which his apartment opened. Someone was there. + +Then the knob of his door turned; he could not distinguish it in the +uncertain light, yet he knew it was turning by a peculiarly faint +screech--almost so faint as to be indistinguishable. One would not +notice it except at the dead of night. + +The door hung a moment; then cautiously it swung back a little way, and +two men entered. The moon, though now low, was sufficient to light the +place faintly and to enable them to see and be seen. + +For a brief interval they stood motionless. They came to life when +Harleston, reaching up, pushed the electric button. + +"What can I do for you, gentlemen?" he asked, blinking into their +levelled revolvers. + +They were medium-sized men and wore evening clothes; one was about +forty-five and rather inclined to stoutness, the other was under forty +and rather slender. They were not masked, and their faces, which were +strange to Harleston, were the faces of men of breeding, accustomed to +affairs. + +"You startled us, Mr. Harleston," the elder replied; "and you blinded us +momentarily by the rush of light." + +"It was thoughtless of me," Harleston returned. He waved his hand toward +the 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 to +mention the hazard from drafts. You're much more comfortable in bed--and +we can transact our business with you quite as well so; moreover if you +will give us your word to lie quiet and not call or shoot, we shall not +offer you the slightest violence." + +"I'll do anything," Harleston smiled, "to be relieved of looking down +those unattractive muzzles. Ah! thank you!--The chairs, gentlemen!" with +a fine gesture of welcome. + +"We haven't time to sit down, thank you," said Sparrow. "Time presses +and 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 to +do until nine o'clock--except to sleep; and sleep is a mere incidental +to me. I would much rather chat with visitors, especially those who pay +me 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 ever +having met either of you. However--you'll find cigars and cigarettes on +the table in the other room. I'll be greatly obliged, if one of you will +pass 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 and +carefully passed the flame across the tip. "Now, sirs, I'm at your +service. To what, or to whom, do I owe the honour of this visit?" + +"We have ventured to intrude on you, Mr. Harleston," said Marston, "in +regard to a little matter that happened on Eighteenth Street near +Massachusetts 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 me +to 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 the +cab, 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 Massachusetts +Avenue several hours ago?" + +"They are the crux of the matter," Marston said shortly. "And you will +confer a great favour upon persons high in authority of a friendly power +if you will return the articles in question." + +"My dear sir," Harleston exclaimed, "I haven't the articles, whatever +they may be; and pardon me, even if I had, I should not deliver them to +you; I've never, to the best of my recollection, seen either of you +gentlemen before this pleasant occasion." + +"My dear Mr. Harleston," remarked Sparrow, "all your actions at the cab +of the sleeping horse were observed and noted, so why protest?" + +"I'm not protesting; I'm simply stating two pertinent facts!" Harleston +laughed. + +"We will grant the fact that you've never seen us," said Marston, "but +that you have not got the articles in question, we," with apologizing +gesture, "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 is +an _impasse_ without your assistance." + +"The safe is not locked," Harleston remarked. "I think I neglected to +turn the knob. If you will--" + +"Don't disturb yourself, I pray," was the quick reply, the revolver +glinting 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. The +key 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 it +didn't strike my funny-bone--I should probably put up some sort of a +fight; as it is, you see I'm entirely acquiescent. Your tiny automatics +didn't in the least intimidate me. I could have landed you both as you +entered. 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 at +such an hour, they deserve to be received with every attention and +courtesy--particularly when they come on a mistaken impression and a +fruitless 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--the +open door, the open safe, the unemployed revolver, were not in +accordance 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," Harleston +interjected. "I'll trust you not to pry into matters other than the +letter. 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 not +find 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 bit +wearily, "nor are they in my apartment. You have been misinformed. I +find I am getting drowsy--this thing is not as absorbing as I had +thought it would be. With your permission I'll drop off to sleep; you're +welcome to continue the search. Make yourselves perfectly at home, +sirs." He lay back and drew up the sheet. "Just pull the door shut when +you depart, please," he said, and closed his eyes. + +"You're a queer chap," remarked Sparrow, pausing in his search and +surveying Harleston with a puzzled smile. "One would suppose you're used +to receiving interruptions at such hours for such purposes." + +"I try never to be surprised at anything however _outre_," Harleston +explained. "Good-night." + +The two men looked at the recumbent figure and then at each other and +laughed. + +"He acts the part," said the elder. "Have you found anything?" + +"Nothing! It's not in the safe nor the writing-table--nor anywhere else +that is reasonable. I've been through everything and there's nothing +doing." + +"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 but +to overturn everything in the place--and so on; and that will require a +day." + +"So that you replace things, I've not the slightest objection," +Harleston interjected. "Bang away, sirs, bang away! Anything to relieve +me 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 the +people too are up betimes. You risk interruption, I fear, from my +solicitous 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, sitting +up. + +Instantly the new-comer covered him with his revolver. + +"What did you say?" Sparrow inquired from the sitting-room, just as the +stranger 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 but +sufficiently in view to enable the stranger to see that he himself was +covered by an automatic. + +"For heaven's sake, Crenshaw," said Sparrow, "don't let us get to +shooting here! If you wing me, Marston will wing you, and we'll only +stir 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 goods +for the very good reason that the goods are not here. Plunge in and aid +in the search; I wish you would; it will relieve me of your triple +intrusion in one third less time. I'm becoming very tired of it all; it +has 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 my +apartment. But you'll facilitate the search if you'll depress your +respective cannon from the angle of each other's anatomy and get to +work. As I remarked before, I'm anxious to compose myself for sleep. You +can hold your little dispute later on the sidewalk, or in jail, or +wherever is most convenient." + +"Mr. Harleston," said Marston, "do you give us your word that the letter +is 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 tomorrow +will be too late." + +"And all because of you two meddlers." + +"Three meddlers, Crenshaw!" Marston laughed. "You must not forget your +sweet self. We've bungled the affair, I admit. We can't improve it now +by murdering each other--" + +"We can make it very uncomfortable for the fourth meddler," Crenshaw +threatened, 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's +ceased 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 can +return your call. Once more, good-night!" + +"I'm off," said Marston. "Come along, Crenshaw, you can't do anything +more here, and we'll all forget and forgive and start fresh in the +morning." + +"Start?" cried Crenshaw? "what for--home? I tell you the letter is +here--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 the +cab?" Crenshaw demanded, turning upon Harleston. + +"I'll give you nothing since you've asked me in that manner," Harleston +replied sharply; "unless you want this." His hand came from under the +sheet, and Crenshaw was looking into a levelled 38. Harleston had a pair +of them. + +"Beat it, my man!" Harleston snapped. "None of you are of much success +as burglars; you're not familiar with the trade. You're novices, rank +novices. Also myself. I'll give you until I count five, Crenshaw, to +make your adieux. One ... two ... No need for you two to hurry away--the +time 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 a +thing 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 can +pick up chunks of it and carry off." + +"Been asleep?" + +"I don't think!" she laughed. "I'm not minded to lose my job. Suppose +some peevish woman wanted a doctor and she couldn't raise me; do you +think 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's +one 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 deliberately +careful 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 to +be 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 her +age--being indifferent and strictly truthful?" + +"Not over twenty-eight--probably less!" she laughed. "And I've a notion +she'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 are +strangers 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 his +return, the men must have been in the building--unless they had come by +another way than the main entrance; which was the only entrance open +after midnight. If the former was the case, then someone on the outside +must 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 the +building since two A.M., and I should like to know confidentially +whether any one has communicated with an apartment since one thirty." + +The girl knew that Harleston was on intimate terms with the State +Department, and with the police, and she answered at once. + +"Save only yours, not a single in or out call has been registered since +twelve fifty-two when apartment No. 401 was connected for a short +while." + +"Who has No. 401?" + +"A Mr. and Mrs. Chartrand. It's one of the transient apartments; and +they 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 in +the time during the night. It was very brief, however; something about +him 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; it +was 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 that +time of night. In the daytime, I would not have even listened." + +"I understand," said Harleston. "Call me up, will you, if there are any +developments 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 an +automaton or a bit of dirt. You're different; most of the men are not so +bad; it's the women, Mr. Harleston, the women! Good-night, sir. I'll +call you if anything turns up." + +"All of which shows," reflected Harleston, as he returned to bed, "that +the 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 come +in or gone out, and no one had telephoned. Moreover, they also knew of +Harleston'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 telephone +message to No. 401 had to do with the occupant of the deserted cab and +the lost letter. Yet how to connect things? And why bother to connect +them? + +He did not care for the vanished lady of the cab--he had the letter and +the photograph; and because of them he was to have a talk with an +interesting young woman at five o'clock that afternoon. The cipher +letter, which was the much desired quantity, was safely across the hall, +waiting to be turned over to Carpenter, the expert of the State +Department, for translation. Meanwhile, what concerned Harleston was the +photograph of Madeline Spencer and her connection with the case--and to +know if the United States was concerned in the affair. + +At this point he turned over and calmly went to sleep. Tomorrow was +another day. + +He was aroused by a vigorous pounding on the corridor door. It was +seven-thirty o'clock. He yawned and responded to the summons--which grew +more 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 you +knock like a man?" + +"Here's your damn bouquet, also your envelope," said Stuart, "You +probably 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 a +great 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 more +seasonable hour. So long!" + +Harleston closed the door, and was half-way across the living-room when +there came another knock. + +Tossing the envelope and the faded roses on a nearby table, he stepped +back and swung open the door. + +Instantly, a revolver was shoved into his face, and Crenshaw sprang into +the 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 notice +the menacing automatic. + +"Come, no trifling!" Crenshaw snapped. "The envelope that the man from +the apartment across the corridor just handed you." + +Harleston laughed. "You are obsessed with the notion that I have +something of yours, Mr. Crenshaw." + +"_The letter!_" exclaimed Crenshaw. + +"That envelope is addressed to me, sir; it's not the one you seem to +want." + +"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 door +of the living-room, "I'll let you see the envelope; I've not the +slightest objection. Put up your gun, man; I'm not dangerous." + +"You're not so long as I've got the drop on you!" Crenshaw laughed +sneeringly. "Get back, man, get back; to the far side of the table--the +far side, do you hear--while I examine the envelope yonder beside the +roses. The roses are very familiar, Mr. Harleston. I've seen them +before." + +Harleston, retreating hastily, backed into a chair and fell over it. + +"All right, stay there, then!" said Crenshaw, and reached for the +letter. + +As he did so, Harleston's slippered foot shot out and drove hard into +the other's stomach. With a grunt Crenshaw doubled up from pain. The +next 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 the +fingers sent the automatic flying. + +"If it were not for spoiling the devil's handiwork, my fine friend, I'd +smash your face," Harleston remarked. + +"Smash it!" the other panted. "I'll promise--to smash yours--at the +first opportunity." + +"Which latter smashing won't be until some years later," Harleston +retorted, as he turned Crenshaw over. Bearing on him with all his +weight, he loosed his own pajama-cord and tied the man's hands behind +him. Next he kicked off his pajama trousers, and with them bound +Crenshaw's ankles. Then he dragged him to a chair and plunked him into +it, securing him there by a strap. + +"It's scarcely necessary to gag you," he remarked pleasantly. "In your +case, 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 I +find." + +"Find?" + +Harleston nodded. "In your pockets." + +"You dog!" Crenshaw burst out, straining at his bonds. "You miserable +whelp! What do you think to find?" + +"I'm not thinking," Harleston smiled; "it isn't necessary to speculate +when one has all the stock, you know." Then his face hardened. + +"One who comes into another's residence in the dead of night, revolver +in hand and violence in his intention, can expect no mercy and should +receive none. You're an ordinary burglar, Crenshaw and as such the law +will view you if I turn you over to the police. You think I found a +letter in an abandoned cab at 18th and Massachusetts Avenue early this +morning, and instead of coming like a respectable man and asking if I +have it and proving your property--do you hear, proving _your_ +property--you play the burglar and highwayman. Evidently the letter +isn't yours, and you haven't any right or claim to it. I have been +injected into this matter; and having been injected I intend to +ascertain what can be found from your papers. Who you are; what your +object; who are concerned beside yourself; and anything else I can +discover. 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, nor +what this all means; though I might guess some things. It's to obviate +guessing, as far as possible, that I am about to examine such evidence +as you may have with you." + +Crenshaw was so choked with his anger that for a moment he merely +sputtered--then he relapsed into furious silence, his dark eyes glowing +with 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 or +croquet. 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," gritted +Crenshaw. "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 your +pockets. 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 every +article." + +Crenshaw's only answer was a contemptuous shrug. + +A goodly wad of yellow backs of large denominations, and some visiting +cards, no two of which bore the same name, were the contents of the +pocketbook. + +"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 in +Crenshaw's pocket. + +"It's unwise to carry so much money about you," he remarked; "it induces +spending, 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 need +it. Now for the other pockets." + +The coat yielded nothing additional; the waist-coat, only a few matches +and an open-faced gold watch, which Harleston inspected rather carefully +both inside and out; the trousers, a couple of handkerchiefs with the +initial C in the corner, some silver, and a small bunch of keys--and in +the fob pocket a crumpled note, with the odour of carnations clinging to +it. + +Harleston glanced at Crenshaw as he opened the note--and caught a sly +look in his eyes. + +"Something doing, Crenshaw?" he queried. + +Another shrug was Crenshaw's answer--and the sly look grew into a sly +smile. + +The note, apparently in a woman's handwriting, was in French, and +contained five words and an initial: + + _A l'aube du jour. + M._ + +Harleston looked at it long enough to fix in his mind the penmanship and +to mark the little eccentricities of style. Then he folded it and put it +in 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?" Crenshaw +exclaimed. + +"Why not?" And when Crenshaw did not reply: "Wherein are you different +from any other felon taken red-handed--except that you were taken twice +in 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 it +will!" + +"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. He +himself answered. + +"Major Ranleigh, this is Harleston. I'd like to have a man report to me +at the Collingwood at once.--No; one will be enough, thank you. Have him +come right up to my apartment. Good-bye!--Now if you'll excuse me for a +brief time, Mr. Crenshaw, I'll get into some clothes--while you think +over the question whether you will explain or go to prison." + +"You will not dare!" Crenshaw laughed mockingly. "Your State Department +won't stand for it a moment when they hear of it--which they'll do at +ten o'clock, if I'm missing." + +"Let me felicitate you on your forehandedness," Harleston called from +the next room. "It's admirably planned, but not effective for your +release." + +"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 did +stumble on the deserted cab this morning, wholly by accident; I was on +my way here. I did find in it a letter and these roses, and I brought +them 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 for +translation. What I want to know is: first--what is the message of the +letter, if you know; second--who was the woman in the cab, and the facts +of the episode; third--what governments, if any, are concerned." + +"You're amazingly moderate in your demands," Crenshaw sarcasmed; "so +moderate, indeed, that I would acquiesce at once but for the fact that +I'm wholly ignorant of the contents of the letter. The name of the +woman, and the episode of the cab are none of your affair; nor do the +names of parties, whether personal or government, concern you in the +least." + +"Very well. We'll close up the cards and play the game. The first thing +in the game, as I said a moment ago, Crenshaw, is not to squeal when you +are 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 at +attention and saluted. If he saw the bound man in the chair, his eyes +never 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 prevent +any attempt at escape or rescue, even though you are obliged to use the +utmost force. I'm for down-town now; and I will communicate with you at +the 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," Harleston +replied; and picking up his stick he departed, the letter and the +photograph 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, if +you have time either to say it or write it. The Secretary of State +resided on it, and, as chance had it, he was descending the front steps +as Harleston came along. + +Now the Secretary was duly impressed with all the dignity of his +official position, and he rarely failed to pull it on the ordinary +individual--cockey would be about the proper term. In Harleston, +however, he recognized an unusual personage; one to whom the Department +was wont to turn when all others had failed in its diplomatic problems; +who had some wealth and an absolutely secure social position; who +accepted no pecuniary recompense for his service, doing it all for pure +amusement, 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 and +play 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 to +consult you about a matter which arose last night, or rather early this +morning. I was bound for your office now. I can, however, give you the +main 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. If +Carpenter can translate the cipher message, it will--" + +"The Department has full faith in your diagnosis, Harleston. You're the +surgeon; 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 American +Beauty 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 early +morning, finishing his account in the Secretary's private office. + +"Most amazing!" the latter reflected, eyes half-closed as though seeing +a 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 throwing +our friend, the King of Valeria, out of his Archdukeship, and later from +his throne. I remember the matter most distinctly. I was a friend of the +Dalberg family of the Eastern Shore, and of Armand Dalberg himself." He +paused, and looked again at the picture. "H-u-m! She is a very beautiful +woman, Harleston, a very beautiful woman! I think I have never seen her +equal; certainly never her superior. These dark-haired, classic +featured ones for me, Harleston; the pale blonde type does not appeal. +The peroxides come of that class." Again the photograph did duty. "I +could almost wish that she were the lost lady of the cab of the sleeping +horse--so that I might see her in the flesh. I've never seen her, you +know." + +Harleston smoothed back a smile. The Secretary too was getting +sentimental over the lady, and he had never seen her; though he had +known of her rare doings; and those doings had, it appeared, had their +natural effect of enveloping her in a glamour of fascination because of +what she had done. + +"You've seen her?" the Secretary asked. + +"I've known her since she was Madeline Cuthbert. Since then she's had a +history. Possibly, taken altogether she's a pretty bad lot. And she is +not only beautiful; she's fascinating, simply fascinating; it's a rare +man, a very rare man, who can be with her ten minutes and not succumb to +her 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 has +occasion 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'll +acquaint her of your boasted immunity from her _beaux yeux_." + +"The latter isn't within the scope of your duty, sir," the Secretary +smiled. "Now we'll have Carpenter." + +He touched a button. + +A moment later Carpenter entered; a scholarly-looking man in the +fifties; bald as an egg, with the quiet dignity of bearing which goes +with a student, who at the same time is an expert in his particular +line--and knows it. He was the Fifth Assistant Secretary, had been the +Fifth Assistant and Chief of the Cipher Division for years. His superior +was not to be found in any capital in Europe. His business with the +secret service of the Department was to pull the strings and obtain +results; and he got results, else he would not have been continued in +office. His specialty, however, was ciphers; and his chief joy was in a +case that had a cipher at the bottom. Ciphers were his recreation, as +well as his business. + +The Secretary with a gesture turned him over to Harleston--and Harleston +handed 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 to +the light, and carefully feeling its texture. + +"Not a great deal cursorily," he answered. "It's a French paper--the +sort, I think, used at the Quay d'Orsay. Have you the envelope +accompanying it?" + +"Here it is!" said Harleston. + +"This envelope, however, is not French; it's English," Carpenter said +instantly. "See! a saltire within an orle is the private water-mark of +Sergeant & Co. I likely can tell you more after careful examination in +my workshop." + +"How about the message itself?" Harleston asked. + +"It is the Vigenerie cipher, that's reasonably certain; and, as you are +aware, Mr. Harleston, the Vigenerie is practically impossible of +solution without the key-word. It is the one cipher that needs no +code-book, nor anything else that can be lost or stolen--the code-word +can be carried in one's mind. We used it in the De la Porte affair, you +will remember. Indeed, just because of its simplicity it is used more +generally by every nation than any other cipher." + +"I thought that you might be able to work it out," said Harleston. "You +can 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 the +key-word--French, Italian, Spanish, English? The message is written on +French paper, enclosed in an English envelope.--However, the facts you +have 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 Harleston +had concluded. "Everyone concerned is English or American; the men who +descended upon you so peculiarly and foolishly, and who showed their +inexperience in every move, were Americans, I take it, as was also the +woman who telephoned you. Moreover, she is fighting them." + +"Then your idea is that the United States is not concerned in the +matter?" the Secretary asked. + +"Not directly, yet it may be very much concerned in the result. We will +know more about it after Mr. Harleston has had his interview with the +lady." + +"That's so!" the Secretary reflected. "We shall trust you, Harleston, to +find out something definite from her. Keep me advised if anything turns +up. It seems peculiar, and it may be only a personal matter and not an +_affaire d'etat_. At all events, you've a pleasant interview before +you." + +"Maybe I have--and maybe I haven't!" Harleston laughed--and he and +Carpenter went out, passing the French Ambassador in the anteroom. + +Harleston went straight to Police Headquarters. The Chief was waiting +for him. + +"I had Thompson, your cab driver, here," said Ranleigh, "and he tells a +somewhat unusual but apparently straight tale; moreover, he is a very +respectable negro, well known to the guards and the officers on duty +around Dupont Circle, and they regard him as entirely trustworthy. He +says that last evening about nine o'clock, when he was jogging down +Connecticut Avenue on his way home--he owns his rig--he was hailed by a +fare in evening dress, top coat, and hat, who directed him to drive west +on Massachusetts Avenue. In the neighbourhood of Twenty-second Street, +the fare signalled to stop and ordered him to come to the door. There he +asked him to hire the horse and cab until this morning, when they would +be returned to him at that point. Thompson naturally demurred; whereupon +the man offered to deposit with him in cash the value of the horse and +cab, to be refunded upon their return in the morning less fifty dollars +for their hire. This was too good to let slip and Thompson acquiesced, +fixing the value at three hundred and fifty dollars, which sum the man +skinned off a roll of yellow-backs. Then the fare buttoned his coat +around him, jumped on the box, and drove east on Massachusetts Avenue. +This morning the horse and cab were backed up to the curb at their +customary stand in Dupont Circle, where they were found by officer +Murphy shortly after daybreak; before he could report the absence of the +driver, Thompson came up and explained." + +"Can Thompson describe the man?" Harleston asked. + +"Merely that he was clean-shaved, medium-sized, somewhat stout, wore +evening clothes, and was, apparently, a gentleman. Thompson thinks +however, that he could readily recognize the man, so we should let him +have a look at the fellow that's under guard in your apartment." + +"It isn't he," Harleston explained. "He's slender, with a mustache and +imperial. 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's +not 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-past +one this morning, when I found the cab deserted at Eighteenth Street and +Massachusetts Avenue, with the horse lying in the roadway, asleep in the +shafts...." + +"What do you wish the police to do, Mr. Harleston?" the Superintendent +asked at the end. + +"Nothing, until I've seen the Lady of Peacock Alley. Then I'll likely +know something definite--whether to keep hands off or to get busy." + +"Shan't we even try to locate the two men, in preparation for your +getting busy?" + +"H'm!" reflected Harleston. "Do it very quietly then. You see, I don't +know 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 are +three Americans engaged in what bears every appearance of being a +diplomatic matter, and of which our State Department knows nothing?" + +"There's a woman in it, I believe; likely two, possibly three!" was the +smiling reply. + +"Hump!" said Harleston. "A woman is at the bottom of most things, that's +a fact; she's about the only thing for which a man will betray his +country. However, as they're three men there should be three women--" + +"One woman is enough--if she is sufficiently fascinating and plays the +men 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 to +meet this afternoon; the unknown who left the Collingwood so +mysteriously; and the one of the photograph. If the other two are as +lovely as she of the photograph they are some trio. I shouldn't care for +the latter lady to tempt me overlong." + +"Wise man!" Harleston remarked, as he arose to go. "I'll advise you +after the interview. Meanwhile you might have the cabby look at the +fellow 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 to +Harleston to remain. After a moment, he motioned for Harleston to come +closer 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 a +bit of a drawl. + +"Very well," Ranleigh replied. "If you will give me your name--I missed +it. Whom am I to expect at three?" + +"Mrs. Winton, of the Burlingame apartments. I'll be punctual--and thank +you so much. Good-bye!" + +"Anything familiar about the voice?" Ranleigh asked, pushing back the +instrument. + +Harleston shook his head in negation. + +"I thought it might be your Lady of Peacock Alley, for it's about the +cab matter. She says that she has something to tell me regarding a +mysterious cab on Eighteenth Street last night sometime about one +o'clock." + +"There are quite too many women in this affair," Harleston commented. +"However, the Burlingame is almost directly across the street from where +I 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 see +and 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 into +the small room at the rear, provided with every facility for seeing what +went on and overhearing and reducing what was said in the +Superintendent's private office. + +Promptly at three, Mrs. Winton was announced by appointment, and was +instantly admitted. + +She was about thirty years of age, slender, with dark hair and a face +just missing beauty. She was gowned in black, with a bunch of violets at +her waist, and she wore a large mesh veil, through which her +particularly fine dark eyes sparkled discriminatingly. + +The Superintendent arose and bowed graciously. Ranleigh was a gentleman +by birth and by breeding. + +"What can I do for you, Mrs. Winton?" he asked, placing a chair for +her--where her face would be in full view from the cabinet. + +"You can do nothing for me, sir," she replied, with a charming smile. "I +came to you as head of the Police Department for the purpose of +detailing what I saw in connection with the matter I mentioned to you +over the telephone. It may be of no value to you--I even may do wrong in +volunteering my information, but--" + +"On the contrary," the Superintendent interjected, "you confer a great +favour on this Department by reporting to it any suspicious +circumstances. It is for it to investigate and determine whether they +call 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 to +the Burlingame. My apartment is on the third floor front. Instead of +going to bed at once, I sat down at the open window to enjoy the gentle +breeze. I must have dozed, for I was aroused by a cab coming up +Eighteenth and stopping before the large, grey-stone house opposite--the +rest 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 I +notice these things--casually of course, as one does. I watched the cab +with languid interest; saw the driver descend from the box, which seemed +a bit peculiar; but when, instead of going to the door of the cab, he +went up the front steps and into the house--the door of which he opened +with a key that he took from his pocket--my curiosity was aroused. A +moment later, a man in evening dress came leisurely out and sauntered to +the 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 the +cab, 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 to +the cab that they were hidden from me; when they reappeared, they were +carrying a woman--or her body--between them. They hurriedly crossed the +sidewalk mounted the steps, and the house-door closed behind them +instantly. The noise of the door seemed to arouse the horse, doubtless +he took it for the door of the cab, and he started slowly up the street +toward Massachusetts Avenue. After walking a short distance, and in +front of a vacant lot near the corner, he halted--obviously he realized +that no one was holding the lines, and he was waiting for his driver to +return. Just then one of the men put his head out of the doorway, saw +that the horse was no longer before the house, and dodged quickly back. +I waited for further developments from the house. None came, except that +in 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, and +apparently went to sleep. Disturbed by the occurrence, and debating what +I ought to do, I sat a while longer; and I must have dozed again, for +when I awoke the house was dark, and a man, a strange man, I think, was +standing beside the cab, and the horse was up. The man was gathering the +reins; he fastened them to the driver's seat, spoke to the horse, and +the horse moved off and into Massachusetts Avenue toward Dupont Circle. +The man watched him for a moment; then turned and went down +Massachusetts Avenue. After waiting a short while, I went to bed. This +morning, I decided it was well for you to know of the episode." + +"And you have told it wonderfully well, Mrs. Winton," said the +Superintendent, "wonderfully well, indeed." + +"You don't know how often I rehearsed," she laughed, "nor how much of +the essentials I may have omitted!" + +"Not much, I fancy. However, you'll not object, I suppose, to answering +a few questions as to details." + +"I wish you to ask anything that suggests itself," she replied. "I've an +appointment at the Chateau at five; just give me time to keep it." + +"We'll get through long before five!" the Superintendent smiled, though +his shrewd grey eyes were coldly critical. It was most unlikely that she +was the Lady of Peacock Alley; yet all things are possible where a woman +is concerned, as he knew from experience. "About what time was it when +the 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 and +the 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 his +watch. + +"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 depends +much on what you're doing at the moment. Last night when you were +watching, not estimating, you probably were nearer right as to the +interval. When, may I ask, did the driver reappear?" + +"He didn't reappear--at least that I saw; he may have come out of the +house 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 the +case--her appearance--how she was dressed--anything to aid us in +identifying her?" + +"I'm afraid I can't be of much help," Mrs. Winton replied. "She was, I +think, clad in a dark street gown. In the uncertain electric light, I +could not distinguish the colour--and the men were so close to her I had +little 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 before +tonight?" + +"I saw no one but the servants--though I didn't look quite all the +time," she added with a smile. "I'm not unduly curious, I think, Major +Ranleigh, under the, to me, unusual circumstances; and in mitigation of +my curiosity, I've told no one of the matter." + +"You're a woman of rare discretion, Mrs. Winton," the Superintendent +replied. + +"I fear I'm a busy-body," she returned. + +"I wish then there were more busy-bodies of your sort. Tell me, could +you recognize the men?" + +"Not with any assurance.--Neither could I recognize the occupants of the +house," she added. "The truth is, though you may doubt, that I scarcely +notice them; but one can't see a to-let-unfurnished sign on a house +opposite for six months, without remarking its sudden disappearance from +the landscape." + +"I should say that you wouldn't be normal if you didn't notice--and +comment, too," Ranleigh declared. "And the Department is much indebted +to you for the information, and it appreciates the spirit that moves you +in the matter." + +Mrs. Winton arose to go--the Superintendent accompanied her into the +hall, rang the bell for the elevator, and bowed her into it. + +"Don't you wish to know the result?" he inquired with a quizzical +smile, as he put her in the car. + +"I'm not unduly curious!" she laughed. + +When he returned, Harleston was standing in his office lighting a +cigarette. + +"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 story +till its truth is established--and then I'm still in a receptive state +of mind. However, it does seem true, and Mrs. Winton herself supports +it; which is enough for the time." + +"At any rate, we've found the lady of the cab," Harleston remarked. "Or +rather we've located her as of one o'clock, which is shortly before I +happened on the scene." + +"Is there anything in the description that corresponds to the lady of +the photograph?" + +"It all corresponds; slight, above medium-height, dark gown--she affects +dark gowns;--but thousands of women are slight, above medium-height, and +wear 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 the +Chateau at five, and her being gowned in black?" + +"A mere coincidence, I think. What would be her object in telling this +story to you between three and four o'clock, and meeting me at five to +recover the lost document." + +"Search me! I'm sure only of this: there are too many women in this +affair, Mr. Harleston, too many women! Man is a reasoning being and +somewhat 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 five +o'clock, paused on the landing above the marble stairs inside the F +Street entrance and surveyed the motley throng--busy with looking and +being looked at, with charming and being charmed, with wondering and +being wondered at, with aping and being aped, with patronizing and being +patronized, with flattering and being flattered, with fawning and being +fawned upon, with deceiving and being deceived, with bluffing and being +bluffed, with splurging, with pretending, with every trick and artifice +and sham and chicanery that society and politics know, or can fancy. + +Harleston was familiar with it all for too many years even to accord it +a glance of contemptuous indifference--when he had anything else to +occupy his mind; and just now his mind was on a lady in black with +three American Beauties on the gown. + +He went slowly down the steps to the main corridor and joined the +buzzing, kaleidoscopic crowd. + +Somewhere on the floor above, an orchestra was playing for the +_dansant_; and the music came fitfully through the chatter and +confusion. He nodded to some acquaintances, bowed formally to others, +shook hands when it could not be avoided; all the while progressing +slowly 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 next +instant the rift closed. However, he knew now that she was here and +where to find her, and he made his way through the press toward where +she was waiting for him. + +Then the crowd suddenly opened--as crowds do--and he saw, on the same +side of the corridor and scarcely ten feet apart, two slender women in +black and wearing red roses; one was Mrs. Winton, the other he had never +seen. + +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 was +waiting for him? He knew neither, but there was the chance that the one +he was to meet knew him. + +And so he adventured it, walking slowly toward them, and taking care +that 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 his +stick, and looked at him unrecognizingly. As her eyes came down they +rested on the other woman. + +She gave a subdued exclamation, arose and threaded her way to the +opposite 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, at +least, both were good to look at; they must be good to look at in this +business, 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 hand +and 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 to +town?" + +"Only yesterday! You live in Washington, now, don't you?" + +"Yes, off and on. It's my headquarters for refitting and starting +afresh. 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 up +the 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's +prettier 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, then +stared coldly at his companion; the men too stared at her--but not +coldly--and when they thought about it, which was seldom of late, nodded +to him, and resumed their staring. + +And Harleston did not wonder--indeed, had it been otherwise, it would +have argued a sudden paucity of appreciation on the part of the smart +set there assembled. For this slender young person in black, a small hat +on her head, topping hair of flaming red, an exquisite figure and a +charming 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 know +it; which in this day of smug and blatant personal appreciation of one's +good points--feminine points--is something of a rarity in the sex. It +may be, however that Madame X was fully aware of her beauty, but she was +modest about it, or seemed to be; which amounts to the same thing. + +They sat down at a remote table and Harleston ordered two cold +drinks--an apollinaris with a dash of lemon for her, a Jerry Hill for +himself. He noticed that the men were looking and wavering and he +deliberately turned his chair around and gave them his back. He had no +objection to presenting the Lady of Peacock Alley to his men friends, +but just at this time it was not convenient. The adventure was rather +unusual, and the lady altogether attractive and somewhat fascinating; he +chose, for the present at least, to go it alone. Moreover, they were to +meet on a matter of her business and by her appointment. + +He had suggested the _dansant_ that he might study her. And the more he +saw of her, the more he was struck by her unaffected naturalness and +apparent sincerity. Not a word, not even a suggestion while they were +dancing, of the matter of the cab; it was as though she were just an old +friend. And her dancing was a delight--such a delight, indeed, that he +was reluctant to have it end. Somehow, one gets to know quickly one's +partner in the _dansant_. + +"This is perfectly entrancing, Mr. Harleston," she said presently, "but +don't you think we would better hunt a retired corner and discuss other +matters?" + +"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 the +character of the discussion." + +Her smile grew into a quiet, rippling laugh. + +"Come along," she answered. "I've found a secluded nook in the big +red-room downstairs. It's cozy and nice, and I've had the maid reserve +it for me. Afterwards," with a sharp stab of her brown eyes, "I'll +decide whether I'll dine with you." + +The place was as she had said, cozy and nice and secluded; and he put +her 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 left +off last night. Your last remark then was that I had a chance to get the +articles, 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 to +them, or the right of possession to them; whether they concern private +matters or public matters; if the latter, whether the United States is +concerned." + +"We can assume the first," said she. "I know for a fact that you took +the articles in question from the cab, which you found deserted before a +vacant lot." + +"How do you know it?" Harleston asked. + +"Because, as I told you over the telephone, you were seen--in fact, I +saw you. I saw you light a match inside the cab, come out with the +envelope, look it over quickly, and put it in your pocket. You'll admit +these 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't +that 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 its +contents were left with me for delivery to another party--which I +believe 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 title +would be no better than you've put in me; not so good, in fact, for +according to your tale I have the envelope." + +She shrugged again. + +"Now as to your third contingency," she went on, "I am not able to say +what is the nature of the document, nor whom nor what nation it +concerns." + +"You mean that you're ignorant of its contents and its nature?" he +asked. + +She met his glance frankly. "I mean that I haven't any idea of its +contents 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 the +table--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 his +own--and she let him. + +"It's mighty pretty," he said, with assumed gravity. "Am I to have it +in 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 far +as 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 the +photograph? It was a queer situation? the reasonable inferences were +against 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 an +innocent associate. And it was not difficult to do, sitting there beside +her in the subdued light, under the witching tones of her voice, and the +alluring fascination of her face. The face was not perfect; far from it, +if by perfect is meant features accordant with one another and true to +type. Her hair was flaming red; her eyes were brown, dark brown, a +certain pensiveness in them most inaccordant with the hair; her nose was +slender, with sensitive nostrils; her mouth was generous with lips a +trifle full; her teeth were exquisitely white and symmetrical--and she +showed them with due modesty, yet with proper appreciation of their +beauty. + +Altogether she was a very charming picture; and throwing away his +cigarette, he lighted a cigar and settled back to watch the play of her +features and hear the melody of her voice. He was a trifle impressed +with the lady--and he was willing that the tale require time and +attention. Furthermore, it was his business to observe her critically, +so that he might decide as to the matter in hand. In the present +instance his business was very much to his liking, but that did not make +it any the less business. + +Something of which the lady may have suspected and was prepared to +humour. A man must be humoured at times--particularly when the woman is +trying for something that can only be come at through his favour or +acquiescence. + +"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 little +enough 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 by +the middle door, and crossed to a divan in the corner farthest from Mrs. +Clephane and Harleston. The former had her back to them; Harleston was +facing their way and saw them. + +The man was middle-aged, bald, and somewhat stout--and Harleston +recognized one of his visitors of the early morning. The woman was +sinuous, with raven hair, dead white complexion, a perfectly lovely +face, and a superb figure. Harleston would have known that walk and that +figure 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 if +considering where to begin her story. + +"Do you know the two who just came in and are sitting in the far +corner," he asked; "the slender woman and the bald-headed man?" + +"No," she answered; "except that she is an exceedingly fine-looking +woman--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, which +means, to be accurate, about ten days ago, I took a steamer at +Cherbourg for New York. On the boat was a Madame Durrand, whom I had +known on the Continent and in London for a number of years. Neither was +aware of the other's sailing until we met aboard. I think that it was on +the fourth day out she asked me to come to her state-room; there she +told me that she was a secret agent of the French Government and the +bearer of a most important letter from a high official, written however +in his private capacity to their Ambassador in Washington; that she had +a presentiment ill fortune would befall her on the way; that there was +no one else on the ship in whom she trusted; and that she wanted me to +accompany her to Washington, and, if she were to meet with an accident, +to deliver the letter to the Ambassador. I consented, wishing to oblige +her, and being bound for Washington. She showed me where she carried the +letter, and gave me the verbal message that went with it, which was the +name of the Minister and that he sent it in his private capacity and not +officially. + +"I'm not in the secret service of a government, as you doubtless can +infer from my knowledge of matters and use of technical language!" she +smiled. "And the affair rather fascinated me, I admit, by its +unusualness. Moreover, I knew Madame Durrand intimately--how intimately +may be inferred from the circumstances. + +"Well, we landed, had our baggage chalked, and went to the Plaza for the +night. In the morning, we took a taxi to the Pennsylvania Station, were +held up by traffic, and were hurrying down the marble steps to catch our +train, when a man, hurrying also, jostled Madame Durrand. Her heel +caught and she plunged head first down to the landing. Of course men +sprang forward to her assistance and picked her up--with her wrist and +ankle broken. She was plucky, however, wonderfully plucky. She did not +faint, as I'm sure I should have done; she just turned ghastly pale--and +said to me, with a bit of smile, motioning for me to bend over her so +that none could hear: + +"'I told you so, Edith. Here is where you come in.' She slid her hand +under 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 hospital +and comfortable. And when she saw I meant it, she smiled--and fainted. +Well, instead of the ten o'clock train, I caught the twelve, which +should have landed me here at five, but a series of delays, due to +accidents ahead; put us at seven. It was, I thought, too late to deliver +my letter that evening, so I took a taxi here and had dinner. Then I +paid a short visit to some friends at the Shoreham and returned shortly +before midnight. I found two notices that I had been called on the +telephone at 10:15 and 11:00, by parties who declined to give their +names or leave a call. This struck me as queer since no one knew of my +being in town except my friends at the Shoreham. A moment after I +entered my room, the telephone rang. I answered. A man's voice came +back. + +"'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 to +come in fifteen minutes--we'll send a carriage for you?' + +"'How did you know'--I began, then stopped. 'Yes, I'll be ready,' said +I; '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 matter +and I would see it through. I had not changed from my travelling suit +and it hadn't a pocket in it; nor had I one such as Madame Durrand +employed, so I was carrying the letter pinned inside my waist. Now I +took it out and put it in my hand-bag, all the while thinking over the +affair and liking it less the more I thought. It was pretty late at +night, and there was something suspicious about the affair. I went to +the 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 the +Shoreham. On the envelope I had written the instruction that it was not +to be delivered until morning. + +"As I finished, the telephone rang and Mr. and Mrs. Buissard, I think +that was the name, were announced as coming by appointment. I went down +at once. Mrs. Buissard was in evening dress, a pretty, vivacious woman, +Mr. Buissard was a man of thirty, slender, with a little black +moustache and black hair. Somehow I didn't like him; and I was glad he +had brought his wife--she was charming. + +"They had a cab instead of a car or taxi. We got in and drove up +Fourteenth to H, and out H to Sixteenth. As we swung in Sixteenth, the +man 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 and +twisted it tightly about my neck. + +"I tried to cry out, but a hand closed over my mouth and only a weak +gurgle responded. + +"'Listen, Mrs. Clephane!' said the man, 'We mean you no harm. Give us +the package you have for the French Ambassador, and we will at once +return you to your hotel.' + +"I'm pretty much a coward, yet I managed to hold myself together and not +faint, and to say nothing. I didn't care a straw for the letter, but I +didn't fancy being defeated at that stage of the game. I tried to +think--but thinking is a bit difficult under such circumstances. Just as +the wrap went over my head, my hand happened to be on my hand-bag. I +quietly opened it, dropped the letter close along the seat, and closed +the bag. Here was a slight chance to balk them--at all events, it was +the 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 the +last it stopped. I'm a trifle hazy as to what they did; but finally I +was passed out of the cab like a corpse and carried into a house. There +the wrap was removed from my head; I blinked uncertainly, and looked +around in a bewildered fashion. + +"'Where am I?' I gasped. + +"The woman replied, 'You're in absolutely no danger, Mrs. Clephane. We +want the package you have for the French Ambassador; when we have it, we +will 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 you +somewhere; 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 hotel +safe.' + +"'Will you permit yourself to be searched?' she asked, with an amused +smile. I knew it was a threat. + +"'I'm perfectly willing to submit to a search by _you_,' I said. 'The +quicker you set about it, the quicker I'll be released. I don't care for +these diplomatic affairs; they may be regular but they seem +unnecessarily dangerous. I was simply a substitute anyway, and I won't +substitute again; though how you people discovered it I don't see.' + +"'Because you're new at the game,' she replied, as we passed into the +drawing-room. + +"She closed the door--and I soon satisfied her that the package was not +concealed about me. + +"'I may go now?' I inquired. + +"'I think so, but I must consult the Chief,' she replied. 'I'll be back +in a minute.' + +"They seemed high-class knaves at least; but it was quite evident that +the diplomatic game and its secret service were distinctly not in my +line. I want no more of them even to oblige a friend in distress. I hate +a mess!" + +"I'm very glad for this mess," Harleston interjected. "Otherwise I +should not have--met you." + +"And you are the only compensation for the mess, Mr. Harleston!" she +smiled. + +She said it so earnestly Harleston was almost persuaded that she meant +it--though he replied with a shrug and a sceptical laugh. + +"But the woman was long in returning," Mrs. Clephane resumed; "and after +a 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 distance +to the left, and the horse was lying down in the shafts. As I was +debating whether to risk the jump from the window, a man came down the +street and halted at the cab.--That man was you, Mr. Harleston. The rest +of the tale you know much better than I--and the material portion you +are to tell me, or rather to give me." + +"How did you know the man at the cab was I? You didn't recognize me in +the corridor, this afternoon." + +"Oh, yes I did--but I waited to see if you would follow me, or would go +up to the other woman in black and roses." + +"I never was in doubt!" Harleston laughed. "I told you, on the +telephone, 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 that +you _did_ pick me out--and that you're a gentleman. Also you forget that +your picture has been pretty prominent lately, on account of the Du +Portal affair; and besides you've been pointed out to me a number of +times during the last few years as something of a celebrity. So, you +see, it was not a great trick to recognize you under the electric +lights, even at one o'clock in the morning." + +Harleston nodded. It was plausible surely. Moreover, he was prepared to +accept her story; thus far it seemed straightforward and extremely +credible. + +"It was about three when you telephoned to me--where were you then?" he +asked. + +"At the Chateau. They were kind enough to release me about three +o'clock, and to send me back in a private car--at least, it wasn't a +taxi. 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." She +held 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 I +ascertain, that the letter does not concern directly or indirectly the +diplomatic affairs of the United States. You forget that was the +concluding stipulation, Mrs. Clephane. Meanwhile the letter will not, +you may feel assured, fall into the possession of the party who +attempted to steal it from you." + +"What does it all mean?" she asked, leaning forward. "Who beside France +are the parties concerned?" + +"It means that some nation is ready to take desperate chances to prevent +your letter from reaching the French Ambassador. What actuates it, +whether to learn its contents or to prevent its present delivery, I +naturally do not know." Then he laughed. "Would it interest you very +much to learn, Mrs. Clephane, that I was visited last night by three +men, who tried, at the point of the revolver, to force the letter from +me?" + +"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--and +having acquitted her in that respect, there was scarcely any question as +to the sincerity and truth of her tale. + +As it has been remarked previously, Mrs. Clephane was very good to look +at--and what is more to the point with Harleston, she looked back. + +"I had all sorts of adventures, beginning with the cab of the sleeping +horse, three crushed roses, a bit of lace, and a letter," he laughed; +"and the adventures haven't yet ended, and they grow more interesting as +they 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 else +did she know--or didn't she know anything? Was it only his habit in +diplomatic affairs to doubt everything that was not undoubtable. + +"The letter," he replied, "is with the expert of the State Department +for translation." + +"What language is it in?" she demanded. + +"Cipher language--and a particularly difficult cipher it is. Can you +help us out, Mrs. Clephane?" + +"I can't, Mr. Harleston; I don't know anything about ciphers. And I told +you the whole truth when I said that I neither knew what the envelope +contained nor its purpose. What disturbs me is how to explain to the +French Ambassador the loss of the letter." + +"Tell him the exact truth," said Harleston. "It would have been better +possibly 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 State +Department. Now that it has passed out of my hands, it is a matter for +the Secretary to decide." + +"But he will be advised by you!" she exclaimed. + +"Advised, yes,--dominated, no. The only chance of the letter being +returned to you, is that it does not affect this government." + +"Diplomacy then is willing to stoop to any crime or to profit by any +wrong?" she mocked. + +"I am afraid I must admit the accusation. Everything is fair in love +and 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 the +letter by reason of that outrage?" + +"I'm afraid you'll find the wheels of justice very slow-moving--when +they have to do with affairs diplomatic." + +"But the letter, sir?" + +"You must remember, Mrs. Clephane, that I found the letter in an +abandoned cab." + +"And now that you know to whom it belongs," she flashed, "you will not +return it?" + +"Because I can't! Which brings us back to where we started--and to +dinner." + +"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, and +hurried out--conscious all the while that Madeline Spencer and her +companion were watching him. + +"This is Police Headquarters, Mr. Harleston," came the voice over the +wire. "Major Ranleigh wants to know if you will meet him at his office +at ten o'clock tonight. The Major was called out suddenly or he would +have telephoned you, himself!" + +"I'll be on hand," Harleston replied, hung up the receiver, and hurried +back. + +As he entered the red-room, he shot a covert glance toward the place +where Mrs. Spencer and her companion had been sitting. + +They were gone! + +"Yes! Yes!" said he under his breath, and turned toward the corner where +he had left Mrs. Clephane. + +Mrs. Clephane was gone. + + + + +IX + +DECOYED + + +Harleston faced about and surveyed the entire room. Then not content +with surveying, he deliberately walked through it, and satisfied himself +that Mrs. Clephane was not there--nor Madeline Spencer, nor her +bald-headed companion. + +He took a turn up and down the corridor, and up and down again. They +were not there. + +He even walked through the dining-rooms. + +Nothing! + +"Hum!" said he, at length--and returned to the red-room, and to his +chair. It was quite possible that Mrs. Clephane would be back in a +moment--yet somehow he doubted. + +He waited for a quarter of an hour, and she did not come. He made +another tour of Peacock Alley, the lobby, the dining-rooms, and back to +the red-room. + +Nothing! + +He looked at his watch--it was half-after-seven o'clock. He would wait +fifteen minutes longer. Then, if she had not come, he would go about his +business--which, at present, was to dine. + +He sat with his watch in his hand, looking down the room and at those +who entered. + +The fifteen minutes passed. He put up his watch and arose; the wait was +ended. + +He crossed the corridor to the dining-room. + +"The table in yonder corner, Philippe," he said, to the bowing +head-waiter. + +"One, Monsieur Harleston?" the man replied; and himself escorted him +over and placed him, and took his order for dinner. From which facts it +can be inferred that Harleston was something of a personage at the big +caravansary. + +The clams had just been placed before him, and he was dipping the first +one in the cocktail, when Madeline Spencer and the bald-headed man +entered and passed to a table--reserved for them--at the far side of the +room. Harleston knew that she saw him, though apparently she had not +glanced 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 clear +turtle. + +As Harleston took up his spoon, a page spoke a word to Philippe, who +motioned 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 he +picked it up and turned it over. It was a hotel envelope, and addressed +simply: "Mr. Harleston," in a woman's handwriting--full and free, and, +unusual to relate, quite legible. He ran his knife under the flap and +drew 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 good +enough to dine with me in my apartment. It's No. 972, and cosy and +quiet--and please come at once. I'm waiting for you--with an explanation +for my disappearance. + +"EDITH CLEPHANE." + +"Hum!" said Harleston, and drummed thoughtfully on the table. Then he +arose, said a word to Philippe as he passed, and went out to the +elevator. + +He got off at the ninth floor and walked down the corridor to No. 972. +It was a corner and overlooked Pennsylvania Avenue and Fourteenth +Street. He tapped lightly on the door; almost immediately it was opened +by a maid--a very pretty maid, he noticed--who, without waiting for him +to speak, addressed him as Monsieur Harleston and told him that Madame +was expecting him. + +Harleston handed the maid his hat, stick, and gloves, and crossed the +private hall into the drawing-room. + +As he passed the doorway, a heavy silk handkerchief was flung around his +neck from behind, and instantly tightened over his larynx; at the same +time his arms were pinioned to his side. He could neither make a sound +nor raise a hand. He was being garroted. At his first struggle the +garrote was twisted; it was be quiet or be strangled. And, queer as it +may seem, his first thought was of the garroters of India and the +instant helplessness of their victims. In fact, so immediate was his +helplessness, that it sapped all will to be otherwise than quiescent. + +"Two can play at this game, Mr. Harleston," said a familiar voice, and +Crenshaw stepped out in front. "I'm in a better humour now, and more my +natural self; I was somewhat peeved in the Collingwood--due to late +hours, I think. By the way, it isn't an especially pleasant game for the +fellow who is it, Mr. Harleston? I'll take your answer for granted--or +we'll let my distinguished colleague answer for you--you know Mr. +Sparrow, sir?" as the man with the garrote put his head over Harleston's +shoulder. "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 your +apartment, Mr. Harleston--and so I exchanged places with your +detective," Crenshaw explained. + +"I'm quite content, Mr. Crenshaw," Sparrow replied. + +"Yes, certainly, and thank you, Mr. Harleston," Crenshaw smiled. "And +now, with your permission, sir, we shall inspect the contents of your +pockets, to the end that we may find a certain letter that you wot +of--also ourselves." + +After the first warning twist, the garrote had been relaxed just enough +to permit Harleston breath sufficient for life, yet not sufficient for +an outcry; moreover, he knew that at the first murmur of a yell the +wrist behind him would turn and he would be throttled into +unconsciousness. + +There was nothing to do but be quiet and as complaisant as his captors +wished, and await developments. And the irony of such a +situation--happening in the most crowded and most popular hotel in the +Capital, with hundreds of guests at hand, and scores of servants poised +to obey one's slightest nod--struck him with all the force of its +supreme absurdity. It was but another proof of the proposition that one +is never so alone as in the midst of a throng. + +He smiled--somewhat chillily, it must be admitted--and whispered, his +speaking voice being shut off by the garrote. + +"The quicker you look, the sooner I shall, I hope, be released from this +rather 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 you +should know. Do I look so much like a novice? Furthermore, if I am not +mistaken, I told you that I was going direct to the State Department to +deliver the letter for translation so how could I have it now?" + +"We're not debating, we're searching," Crenshaw sneered; "though it may +occur to you that a copy is as easy of translation as the original. +However, we will proceed with the inspection--the proof of the caviare +is in the roe of the sturgeon." + +"Then I pray you open the fish at once," said Harleston. "I can't assist +you 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 believe +me when I say that I'm a bit hungry." + +"With your permission," Crenshaw replied, proceeding to go through +Harleston's pockets, and finding nothing but the usual--which he +replaced. + +He came last to the breast-pocket of the coat; in it were the wallet and +one 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'll +take the liberty of destroying it," tearing it into bits and putting the +bits in his pockets, "lest one of us be liable for forgery. Now for the +pocket-book; you found something in mine, you may remember, Mr. +Harleston." + +Harleston gave a faint chuckle. They would find nothing in his +pocket-book but some visiting and membership cards, a couple of +addresses and a few yellow-backs and silver certificates. + +"The letter doesn't seem to be there--which I much regret, but these +visiting cards may be useful in our business; with your permission I'll +take 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--I +believe I even promised to smash your face when I got the +opportunity--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 bonds +if you give me your word to remain quiet in this room until tomorrow +morning at eight, and not to disclose to anyone, before that hour, what +has 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 and +gag you and leave you to be discovered by the maid--which, we shall +carefully 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, feeling +behind him for the man with the garrote. He had him located now and the +precise position where he was standing--one of his own legs was touching +Sparrow's. + +At the instant Crenshaw had finished his question, Harleston suddenly +kicked backwards, landing with all the force of his sharp heel full on +Sparrow's shin. + +Instantly the garrote loosened; and Harleston, with a wild yell, sprang +forward and swung straight at the point of Crenshaw's jaw. + +Crenshaw dodged it--and the two men grappled and went down, fighting +furiously; Harleston letting out shouts all the while, and even managing +to overturn a table, which fell with a terrific smash of broken glass +and bric-a-brac, to attract attention and lead to an investigation. + +He had not much trouble in mastering Crenshaw; but Sparrow, when he was +done spinning around on one foot from the agonizing pain of the kick on +the shin, would be another matter; the two men and the woman could +overpower him, unless assistance came quickly. And to that end he raised +all the uproar possible for the few seconds that Sparrow spun and the +woman stared. + +Just as Sparrow hobbled to Crenshaw's aid, Harleston landed a short arm +blow on the latter's ear and sprang up, avoided the former's rush and +made for the hall-way. + +At the same moment came a loud pounding on the corridor door. The noise +had been effective. + +In a bound, Harleston reached the door; it should, as he knew, open from +within by a turn of the knob. But it was double-locked on the inside and +the key was missing. + +He whirled--just in time to see the last of the mixed trio disappear +into 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 he +could attract the attention of those in the corridor and make himself +understood. Then more time was consumed in getting the floor-maid with +the 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 at +the head of the relief; and he was not in the best of temper when he +entered and saw the debris of the bric-a-brac and the table. + +"What is the meaning of--" he demanded--then he recognized Harleston and +stopped--"I beg your pardon, Mr. Harleston! I didn't know that you were +here, sir; this apartment was occupied by--" + +"Two men and a woman," Harleston supplied. "Well, it's been vacated by +them 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 to +explain as much as I know." + +"Certainly, Mr. Harleston," the man replied; and, directing the others +to examine the baggage, he closed the door of the drawing-room. + +"First tell me who occupied this suite, when it was taken, and when they +came," said Harleston. + +"One moment," said the manager, and picking up the telephone he called +the office. "It was, the office says, occupied by a Mr. and Mrs. +Davidson of New York City, who took it this afternoon about five +o'clock. They had made no reservation for it." + +"Now as to their baggage." + +The manager bowed and went out--to return almost instantly, a puzzled +expression on his face. + +"Two new and cheap suit cases, each containing a couple of bricks and +some waste paper," he reported. + +"Yes," nodded Harleston, "I thought as much. Mr. Banks, you will confer +a favour on me, and possibly on the government, if you will be good +enough to let this affair pass unnoticed, at least for the time. I'll +pay for the broken table and its contents, and a proper charge for the +rooms 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 the +occupants, and why the furniture was smashed, and why I have a slight +contusion in my cheek, and anything else occurring to the management as +requiring 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 out +since 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 the +hotel, has disappeared. I was talking to her in the red-room at about +6:30, when I was called to the telephone. On my return, after a brief +absence, she was gone, and a frequent and thorough search on the first +floor did not disclose her. She was to have dined with me at +seven-thirty. She did not keep the engagement. I dined alone, and had +just begun the meal when a letter was handed to me asking that I dine +with her in her apartment, No. 972. I came here at once--and was held up +by two men and a woman, who sought to obtain something that they +imagined was in my possession. It wasn't, however, and we fought; and I +raised sufficient disturbance to bring you. You see, I have told you +something of the affair. The note was a forgery. This isn't Mrs. +Clephane's apartment, and her maid has just told me that her mistress +has not been in her apartment since five o'clock--which was the time she +met me. I am persuaded that she is a prisoner, and likely in this +hotel--held so to prevent her disclosing a certain matter to a certain +high official. What I want is for you to make every effort to determine +whether she is in this house." + +"We'll do it, Mr. Harleston," the manager acquiesced instantly. "Come +down to the office and we'll go over the guest diagram, while I have +every unoccupied room looked into. In fact, sir, we'll do anything short +of burglaring our guests." + +"I'll be right down," Harleston said; "after I've bathed my face and +straightened up a bit." + +The contusion on his cheek was not particularly noticeable; it might be +worse in the morning; his collar was a trifle crushed and his hair was +awry; 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 far +as possible, the cheek-bone, and went down to the private office. + +There was, of course, the chance that Mrs. Clephane had lured him into +the trap, and had herself written the decoy note; but he did not +believe her guilty. Even though Crenshaw had adroitly implicated her, +he was not influenced. Indeed, he was convinced of just the +reverse:--that she was honest and sincere and inexperienced, and that +she had told him the true story of the letter and its loss. At least he +was acting on that theory, and was prepared to see it through. Maybe he +was a fool to believe those brown eyes and that soft voice and those +charming 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, encountered +many women with beautiful faces and compelling eyes and alluring voices +and 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 whether +she was married, a widow, or a divorcee. Whatever she was, he was +willing to accept her as genuine--until she was proven otherwise. + +All of which would indicate that she had made something of an impression +on Harleston--who was neither by nature nor by experience impressible +and, in the diplomatic game, had about as much sentiment as a granite +crag. In fact, with Harleston every woman who appeared in the +diplomatic 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 another +tour of the rooms and corridor on the first floor. + +It was without avail--save that he noticed Madeline Spencer and her +escort were still at dinner. They did not see him--and he was very well +content. Later he would want a word with them--particularly with her; +and he preferred to meet her alone. She was a very beautiful woman, and +very alluring, and the time was, and not so long ago, when he would have +gone far out of his way to meet her; but another face--and +business--occupied him at present. Moreover, the business had to do with +Mrs. 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. Clephane +is not to be seen." + +"We paged her, also," returned Banks; "and we've had every vacant room +in the house examined without result. Here's the diagram; let us go over +it, perhaps we can get a lead from it. About half of the guests are +personally known to the hotel; they are either permanent guests or have +been coming here for a long time. However, pick out any that you suspect +and we'll try to find a way to get into their rooms. We are always at +the 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 own +names. He found it at last--or thought he had: No. 717:--Madame Cuthbert +and maid. + +"What do you know of her?" he asked, indicating No. 717. + +"Nothing whatever, except that she seems to have plenty of money, and +looks 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-headed +man 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," Harleston +muttered--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 to +impossible to find her. There were a hundred well-dressed and +quiet-mannered guests who seemed beyond suspicion; and yet it was in the +room of one of these unobtrusive guests, who had never so much as looked +at Mrs. Spencer, that Mrs. Clephane was held prisoner. There was small +hope--none, indeed--that a search of Madeline Spencer's apartment would +yield even a clue. She was not such a bungler; though that she was the +directing spirit in the entire affair he had not the least doubt. Her +photograph fixed the matter on her; and while he was quite sure she was +not aware of the photograph, yet she was aware of the letter, had made a +desperate effort to prevent its delivery, and now was making a final +effort to prevent Mrs. Clephane from advising the French Ambassador of +its loss. + +As to him, Mrs. Spencer was not concerned. His possession of the letter, +under such circumstances, effectually closed his mouth; if he happened +to know for whom the letter was intended, his mouth was closed all the +tighter. It was a rule of the diplomatic game never to reveal, even to +an ally, what you know; tomorrow the ally may be the enemy. Harleston +might yield the letter to superior force or to trickery, but he would +never babble of it. + +The door opened to admit Banks. + +"The detective has nothing whatever as to Madame Cuthbert," he +explained. "He says she is apparently a lady, and nothing has occurred +to bring her under his notice. For the same reason, no list of her +callers has been made--though the desk thinks that they have been +comparatively 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 the +hotel--room No. 410." + +"Can you have her apartment and Martin's looked over without exciting +suspicion?" + +"I think we can manage it," Banks responded. "Indeed, I think we can +manage to have all the rooms inspected; I have already told the +detective what we suspect, and he has put on an employee's uniform and +with a basket of electric bulbs is now testing the lights in every +occupied room. The moment he finds Mrs. Clephane, or anything that +points to her, he will advise us." + +"Good!" said Harleston. "Meanwhile, I'll have another look in Peacock +Alley." + +He was aware that he was acting on a pure hunch. He realized that his +theory of Mrs. Clephane's imprisonment in the house was most +inconsistent with the facts. Why did they release her last night, if +they were fearful of her communicating to the French Ambassador the loss +of the letter? And why should they take her again this evening? It was +all unreasonable; yet reason does not prevail against a hunch--even to a +reasoning man, who is also a diplomat. + +He sauntered along the gay corridor bowing to those he knew. As he +faced about to return, he saw Madeline Spencer, alone, bearing down upon +him. + +The moment their eyes met, she signalled a glad smile and advanced with +hands extended. + +"Why, Guy!" she exclaimed. "What a surprise this is!" + +"And what a charming pleasure to me, Madeline," he added, taking both +her hands and holding them. "I thought you were in Paris; indeed, I +thought 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 those +who have knowledge of the comparatively recent past, Madeline Spencer +may be a _persona non_. However--" with a shrug of her shapely shoulders +and 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 assume +that here you have a reputation to protect." + +"I'm quite sure that my reputation, whatever it be, won't suffer by +what 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 we +met." + +"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 and +instantly. + +"Wireless," she laughed, "or community of interests?" + +"I don't know--the impression was vivid enough, while it lasted, for you +to 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 went +on. 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 to +declare?" + +"Both!" she laughed. "Now quit talking nonsense and tell me about +yourself. What have you been doing, and what are you doing?" + +"At the very profitable and busy occupation of killing time," he +replied. + +"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 a +seemly 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 should +think the episode of the cab, with what followed at your apartment, was +very 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 roses +and the cab?" + +"You know that I wasn't!" she replied. + +"Then how do you know of the cab of the sleeping horse, and what +followed?" he inquired blandly. + +"I dreamed it." + +"Wonderful! Simply wonderful!" + +She nodded tolerantly. "Why keep up the fiction?" she asked. "You know +that 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 you +please; it's all one, since you know. Moreover you have seen me with one +of your early morning callers, as I meant you to do." She leaned forward +and looked at him with half-closed eyes. "Will you believe me, Guy, when +I say that the United States is not concerned in the matter--and that it +should keep its hands off. You stumbled by accident on the deserted cab. +A subordinate blundered, or you would not have found it ready for your +investigation--and you've been unduly and unnecessarily inquisitive. We +have 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 in +this matter have such--" + +"I used regain advisedly," she broke in. + +"Because of your possession of the lady, or because of your independent +possession of the letter?" + +"You're pleased to be technical," she shrugged. + +"Not at all!" he replied. "I'm simply after the facts: whether the +letter 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 is +pretence." + +"You're pleased to be enigmatic!" Harleston laughed. + +"Oh, no I'm not," she smiled, flashing her rings and watching the +flashes--and him. "You saw me, and you know that I saw you; and I saw +you and know that you saw me. Now, as I've said it in words of one +syllable, I trust you will understand." + +"I understand," said he; "but you have side-stepped the point:--To whom +does 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 a +trustee 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 in +mild 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 losing +your cleverness. Mrs. Clephane is very charming and alluring, but +remember, Guy, that a charming woman has no place in the diplomatic +game--save to delude the enemy. She seems to be winning with you--who, I +thought, was above all our wiles and blandishments. Oh, do not smile, +sir--I recognize the symptoms; I've played the innocent and the beauty +in distress once or twice myself. It's all in our game--but I'm +shockingly amazed to see it catch so experienced a bird as Guy +Harleston." + +"I'm greatly obliged, Madeline, for your shocking amazement," Harleston +chuckled. "Meanwhile, and returning to the letter; who has the better +title to possession, Mrs. Clephane or yourself?" + +"As I remarked before, either of us has a better title to the letter +than yourself. Also--I have heard you say it many times, and it is an +accepted rule in the diplomatic game--never meddle in what does not +concern you; never help to pull another's chestnuts out of the fire." + +"My dear lady, you are perfectly right! I subscribe unreservedly to the +rule, and try to follow it; but you have overlooked another rule--the +most vital of the code." + +"What is it, pray!" + +"The old rule:--Never believe your adversary. Never tell the +truth--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 to +tell me truthfully why you are here, and what you aim to accomplish, I +couldn't accept your story; I should have to substantiate it by other +means." + +"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 were +seeking to establish an _entente cordiale_, or to gain time. The latter +was the likelier--yet time for what? They both were aware that all this +discussion was twaddle--like much that is done in diplomacy; that they +were merely skirmishing to determine something as to each other's +position. + +"I had hoped that for once you would forget business and trust me," she +said softly; "in memory of old times when we worked together, as well as +when we were against each other. We played the game then for all that +was in it, and neither of us asked nor gave quarter. But this isn't +business Guy,--" she had gradually bent closer until her hair brushed +his 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'll +tell you." Her voice dropped to a mere whisper. "It has to do with +England, Germany, and France: at least, I so assume. It has to do with +Germany 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 between +England and Germany, which France suspects and would give much to block +or to be advised of. As to what the agreement embodies, I am in the +dark--though I fancy it has to do with some phase of the Balkan +question." + +"Why would England and Germany conclude an agreement as to the Balkan +question--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, Baron +Kurtz, and didn't care to order him to Europe. Possibly, too, they chose +Washington in order to avoid the spying eyes of the secret service of +the 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 to +speak. I'm not quite in your class, Guy. I've never operated quite +alone." She looked at him thoughtfully. "We two together would make a +great 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 not +involved." + +"Join with Germany--and me--for this once." + +He shook his head. "I serve my country for my pleasure. Germany is +another matter. If, sometime, in an affair entirely personal to you, +Madeline, I should be able to assist you, I shall be only too glad for +the 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 trusted +your every word. You want the letter--the Clephane letter. I haven't +it--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 the +letter, 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 and +held it. "Where is Mrs. Clephane now?" he demanded. + +For just an instant her eyes narrowed and grew very dark. Then suddenly +she 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 of +derision 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, I +must grant you that. Also--" and she laughed lightly. + +"One moment," said he tranquilly, and turned toward Mrs. Clephane--who +had 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 her +hand he whispered: "Not a word of explanation _now_; and play ignorance +of _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 the +enemy--and particularly dangerous." + +"Everyone seems to be dangerous except myself," she replied. "I'm an +imbecile, 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," he +whispered. + +Her reply was a reproving glance from her brown eyes and a shake of the +head. + +"I'm delighted to meet you, Mrs. Clephane," Mrs. Spencer greeted, before +Harleston 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. Clephane +responded. "De Forrest Clephane was my husband. Did you know him, Mrs. +Spencer?" + +"I did not. _Robert_--" with the faintest stress on the name--"was the +only Clephane I knew. A nice chap, Mrs. Clephane; though, since you're +not his widow, I must admit that he was a bit gay--a very considerable +bit indeed." + +"We heard tales of it," Mrs. Clephane replied imperturbably. "It is an +ungracious thing, Mrs. Spencer, to scandalize the dead, but do you know +anything of his gayness from your own experience?" + +Harleston suppressed a chuckle. Mrs. Clephane would take care of +herself, he imagined. + +Mrs. Spencer's foot paused in its swinging, and for an instant her eyes +narrowed; then she smiled engagingly, the smile growing quickly into a +laugh. + +"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 and +travelled the limit with his fair companions. It was sad, too--he was a +most charming fellow. Rumour also had it that he was none too happy in +his marriage, and that _his_ Mrs. Clephane was something of the same +sort. I've seen _her_ several times; she was of the type to make men's +hearts 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 method +for 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 without +charge; which is something unusual in these days of tips and gratuities +and subsidized graft and things equally predatory." + +Mrs. Spencer arose. "The mere mention of graft puts me to instant +flight," she remarked. + +"And naturally even the suggestion of a crime is equally repugnant to +you," Mrs. Clephane observed. + +"'As a general proposition,'" Mrs. Spencer quoted. + +"And general propositions are best proved by exceptions, _n'est-ce +pas_?" was the quick yet drawling answer. + +The two women's eyes met. + +"I trust, Mrs. Clephane, we shall meet again and soon," Mrs. Spencer +replied, 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 to +my 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 brave +alone this Peacock Alley and its heedless crowd." + +And putting her arm intimately through Mrs. Spencer's she went on: with +Harleston trailing in the rear and chuckling with suppressed glee. It +was not often that Madeline Spencer met her match! + +When the car shot upward with Mrs. Spencer, Harleston gave a quiet laugh +of 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's +as 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, "also +something to explain." + +"Your explanation is not in the least necessary if it has to do with +anything 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 dropped +it--and half a lie is always more insidious than the full truth." + +"My dear Mrs. Clephane," he protested, "I assure you it is not +necessary--" + +"Not necessary, if one is in the diplomatic profession," she cut in. +"Murder and assassination both of men and of reputation, seem to be a +portion of this horrible business, and perfectly well recognized as a +legitimate means to effect the end desired. I'm not in it--diplomacy, I +mean,--and I'm mighty thankful I'm not. Mrs. Spencer cold as ice, crafty +as the devil, beautiful as sin, and hard as adamant, knowing her Paris +and London and its scandals--I suppose she must know them in her +profession--instantly recognized me and placed me as Robert Clephane's +wife. For I am his wife--or rather his widow. I lied to her because I +didn't intend that she should have the gratification of seeing her play +win. She sought to distress and disconcert me, and to raise in your mind +a 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 too +happy in his marriage, and that his Mrs. Clephane was something of the +same sort--she was of the type to make men's hearts flutter.' You see, I +recall 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 any +other man than you. She plays for time; a very little time, possibly. I +don'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 this +mess 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 fighting +blood. I never realized I had fighting blood in me until tonight. Mrs. +Spencer's ugly insinuation, topping their attempted abduction of the +evening, 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 being +so," Harleston replied. "Only you don't look it now." + +"You're a sad flatterer, sir!" she smiled. "Believe me, had you seen me +in the room to which they decoyed me with a false message from you, you +would 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 ninth +floor and garroted. I escaped. However, that is another story; yours +first, my lady." + +"You too!" she marvelled. + +He nodded. "And now we are sitting together at dinner, looking at the +crowd, and you're about to tell me your story." + +"Thanks to you for having escaped and rescued me!" Mrs. Clephane +exclaimed. + +"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 I +can 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 of +the game; even the rescue may be a part of the game. You may be playing +me against Mrs. Spencer, and taking advantage of my inexperience to +accomplish 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 of +a clever woman; or was it the evidence of sincerity and innocence? It +had the ring of candour and the appearance of truth. No one could look +into those alluring eyes and that fascinatingly beautiful face and +harbour a doubt of her absolute guilelessness. Yet was it guilelessness? +He had never met guilelessness in the diplomatic game, save as a mask +for treachery and deceit. And yet this seemed the real thing. He wanted +to believe it. In fact, he did believe it; it was simply the habit of +his experience warning him to beware--and because it was a woman it +warned him all the more.... Yet he cast experience aside--and also the +fact that she was a woman--and accepted her story as truth. Maybe he +would regret it; maybe she was playing him; maybe she was laughing +behind her mask; maybe he was all kinds of a fool--nevertheless, he +would trust her. It was-- + +"I'm glad you have decided that I'm not a diplomat--and that you will +trust me," she broke in. "I'm just an ordinary woman, Mr. Harleston, just +a very ordinary woman." + +He held out his hand. She took it instantly. + +"A very extraordinary woman, you mean, dear lady," he said gravely. "In +some 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 an +instant, to look deep into her brown eyes. "Now, since you trust me, I +want to refer briefly to Mrs. Spencer's insinuation." + +"Robert Clephane was all that she said--and more. Middle-aged when he +married me, before a year was passed I had found that I was only another +experience for him; and that after a short time he had resumed his ways +of--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 gay +life of Paris with reckless fervour. I know I was indiscreet. I know I +fractured conventionality and was dreadfully compromised--but I never +violated the Seventh Commandment. Robert Clephane and I were not +separated--except by a locked door. + +"Then one day some two years back, dreadfully mangled, they brought him +home. An aeroplane had fallen with him--with the usual result. That +moment saw the end of my gay life. I passed it up as completely as +though it had never been. The reason for it was gone. After a very +short period of mourning, I took up the quietness of a respectable +widow, who wished only to forget that she ever was married." + +"I can understand exactly," said Harleston. "You shall never hear a word +from me to remind you." + +"I've never heard anything to remind me of the past until this alluring +beauty'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's +something 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 of +Madeline 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 my +helplessness 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," he +returned. "Her purpose was to put you in the same class as herself, so +that I should trust you no more than I do her; to make you appear an +emissary of France, in its secret service, playing the game of ignorance +and inexperience for its present purpose. For you, as a personality she +does not care a fig. To her you are but one of the pieces, to be moved +or threatened as her purpose dictates. In the diplomatic game, my lady, +we know only one side--all other sides are the enemy; and nothing, not +even a woman's reputation, is permitted to stand for an instant in the +way of attaining our end." + +"Therefore a good woman--or one who would forget the past--has no +earthly business to become involved in the game," Mrs. Clephane +returned. "I shall get out of it the instant this matter of the letter +is completed--and stay out thereafter. Even friendship won't lure me to +it. 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 to +Madame Durrand. She trusts me." + +"Then inform the French Ambassador of all the facts and circumstances +and 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 were +known to some one of the staff who could vouch for you." + +"I don't know anyone on the staff, but Mrs. Durrand has likely +communicated with the Embassy." + +"If she has, she had given them a minute description of you, yet that +can 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 in +the game would have lost no time in informing the Embassy of the loss +of 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, it +was 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's +the 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?" she +asked. + +"You should have gone this morning--the instant you were returned to the +hotel! Now, unless Madame Durrand had written about you, it's a pretty +good 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 from +communicating with the Ambassador until they had obtained the letter or +defeated 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 with +her plans and gain time for her." + +"Impersonating me!" Mrs. Clephane exclaimed incredulously. + +"Yes. She knows all the material circumstance--witness the telephone +call that inveigled you into the drive up the Avenue, _et cetera_--and +she'll take the chance that you are not known to the Marquis nor any of +the staff, or even the chance that Madame Durrand has not yet informed +them. Indeed she may have taken precautions against her informing them. +A few bribes to the hospital attendants, carefully distributed, would be +sufficient. It's not everyone who could, or would venture to, pull off +the coup, but with Spencer the very daring of a thing adds to its +pleasure and its zest." + +"You amaze me!" Mrs. Clephane replied. "I thought also that diplomacy +was the gentlest-mannered profession in the world--and the most +dignified." + +"It is--on the surface. Fine residences, splendid establishments, +brilliant uniforms, much bowing and many genuflections, plenty of parade +and glitter--everything for show. Under the surface: a supreme contempt +for any code of honour, and a ruthlessness of purpose simply +appalling--yet, withal, dignity, strained at times, but dignity +none-the-less." + +"Then it isn't even a respectable calling!" she exclaimed. + +"It's eminently respectable to intimidate and to lie for one's +country--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 all +know what to expect and what to guard against. No one believes or trusts +the enemy; and, as I said, everyone is the enemy but those who are +arrayed with us." + +"So instead of being the finest profession in the world--and the most +aristocratic," Mrs. Clephane reflected, "a diplomat is, in truth, simply +a false-pretence artist of an especially refined and dangerous type, +who deals with the affairs of nations instead of the affairs of an +individual." + +"Pretty much," he admitted. "Diplomacy is all bluff, bluster, buncombe, +and bullying; the degrees of refinement of the aforesaid bluff, _et +cetera_, depending on the occasions, and the particular parties involved +in the particular business." + +"Again I'm well content to be simply an ordinary woman, whose chief +delight 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, we +are straying from the question before us, which is: what shall I do +about informing the Marquis d'Hausonville? Will you go with me?" + +"My going with you would only complicate matters for you. The Marquis +would instantly want to know what such a move on my part meant. I'm +known to be in the secret service of the United States, you must +remember. Furthermore your tale will accuse me of the taking of the +letter--and you see the merry mess which follows. I cannot return the +letter--it's in possession of the State Department. I'm far +transgressing my duty by disclosing anything as to the letter. Indeed, +I'm liable to be disciplined most drastically, even imprisoned, should +it chance that the United States was involved." + +"You've told me nothing more than you've already told the Spencer +crowd," she objected. + +"The difference is that the Spencer crowd are trying to obtain something +to which they haven't the least right--and I'm playing the game against +them. You see my peculiar position, Mrs. Clephane. I've told you what I +shouldn't, because--well, because I'm sure that you will not use it to +my disadvantage." + +She traced the figures on her gown with the tips of her fingers, and for +awhile was silent-- + +"It's all so involved," she reflected; "such wheels within wheels, I am +completely mystified. I'm lost in the maze. I don't know whom to believe +nor 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 and +answered very quietly: + +"I shall try, dear lady, to be worthy." + +"And now," she laughed, "may I tell you what happened to me when you +were 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 were +scarcely out of the room, a page brought a verbal message from the +telephone operator that my maid had been found unconscious in the +corridor of the eighth floor, and carried into 821. I hurried to the +elevator. As I entered the door of 821, I was seized from behind and a +handkerchief 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 I +remained 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 be +imagined. It seemed days and days--and was somewhat uncomfortable while +it lasted. When released I hurried down to look for you--or to write you +a note of explanation if I couldn't find you. I'm sort of becoming +accustomed to being abducted and kindred innocent amusements. I suppose +the only reason they didn't kill me is that they can't kill me more than +once; and to kill me now would be too early in the game." + +"Killing is rarely done in diplomacy," observed Harleston, "except in +large numbers; when it ceases to be diplomacy and becomes war. In fact, +only bunglers resort to killing; and if the killing be known it ends +one's career in the service. To have to kill to gain an end is +conclusive evidence of incompetency. I mean, of course, among reputable +nations. There are some thugs among the lesser Powers, just as there are +thugs among the _'oi polloi_." + +"Then Mrs. Spencer is an accomplished--diplomat," Mrs. Clephane +remarked. + +"She is at the top of the profession,--and as a directing force she is +without a superior." + +"You are very generous, Mr. Harleston!" + +"I believe in giving the devil his dues. Indeed, in handling some +affairs, she is in a class by herself. Her beauty and finesse and +alluringness make her simply irresistible. It's a cold and stony heart +that 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 is +of 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 its +delivery to the French Ambassador will embarrass or complicate that +business. The latter is likely the fact." + +"It grows more involved every minute," Mrs. Clephane sighed. "It's +useless to try to make me comprehend. I want to hear what happened to +you; such simple concrete doings are more adapted to my unsophisticated +mind." + +"When I returned to the telephone, you were gone," he said; "I waited +awhile, then cruised through the rooms, then went back to our place and +waited again. Finally I went in to dinner, leaving word to be notified +the moment you returned. I was at my soup when a note was brought to me +saying that you had just seen someone whom you wished to avoid, and +asking me to dine with you in your apartment--and that you would explain +your disappearance. I went up at once to No. 972; and there encountered +pretty 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 said +simply: + +"I've absolutely no business in this affair, Mr. Harleston. When such +things can happen in this hotel, in the very centre of the National +Capital and among the throngs of diners and guests, it behooves an +ordinary woman to seek safety in a hospital or a prison. It seems that +the greater the prominence of the place, the greater the danger and the +less 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 the +corridor, "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 thank +you for a delicious dinner and a charming evening--and don't forget +you'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 the +car. "Good-night, Mr. Harleston!" she smiled--and the car shot upward. + +"Hum!" muttered Harleston as he turned for his coat and hat. "I may be +a 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 outer +office. + +"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 in +the private office." + +"Hello! Is that you, Ranleigh? Yes, I recognized the voice. Did you +telephone me at the Chateau about six-thirty?... You didn't?... You were +on your way home at that hour.... Yes, exactly; it was a plant.... Do +you know Crenshaw escaped from my apartment.... Yes, I saw him in the +Chateau this evening.... What?... Yes, better look up Whiteside at +once.... 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 came +up, and the two men went in together. + +Whiteside was there; gagged and bound to the same chair that had held +Crenshaw. + +The rooms were in confusion. Everything had been gone through; clothes +were scattered over the floor, papers were strewn about, drawers stood +open. + +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 most +apologetic tone. He knew there was no sympathy and no excuse for the +detective who let his prisoner escape. "The bell rang. I went to the +door--and was shot senseless by a chemical revolver. When I came to, I +had exchanged places with the prisoner, and he and another man were +just departing. 'My compliments to Mr. Harleston when he returns,' said +Crenshaw, as he went out." + +"Describe the other man!" said Ranleigh. + +"Medium sized, slender, dark hair and eyes, good features, looked like a +gentleman, 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 from +Crenshaw's garrote in the Chateau," Harleston remarked. "The simple fact +is, I clean forgot him until I was talking with you on the telephone." + +"It's just as well, Mr. Harleston," Ranleigh replied. "It served him +right. He will be fortunate if his want of precaution doesn't cost him +his job." + +"No, no!" Harleston objected. "Whiteside has been punished. I intercede +for him. Let him continue in his job, please." + +"Very good, sir," Ranleigh acquiesced. "But he'll be informed that he +owes his retention entirely to you." + +When Ranleigh departed, after hearing a detailed account of the +evening's doings at the hotel, Harleston sat for a little while +thinking; finally he drew over a pad and made a list of things that +required explanation, or seemed to require explanation, at the present +stage of the matter: + +"(1) The translation of the cipher letter. This should explain Madeline +Spencer's connection with the affair. + +"(2) Did the following persons, incidents, or circumstances have any +bearing on the affair. + +"(a) The lone and handsome woman, who left the Collingwood at three that +morning. + +"(b) The note 'a l'aube du jour' (signed) 'M,' found in Crenshaw's +pocket. + +"(c) The telephone call of the Chartrand apartment at 12:52 A.M., by a +man 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, and +no one telephoned; how, therefore, did anyone in the Collingwood know of +the 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 five +o'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 the +affair of the cab of the sleeping horse, but nothing more for the +Spencer gang to inspect in his apartment. Crenshaw had made a thorough +job of his investigation. + +In the morning he took out the list and went over it again. They all +were dependent on the translation of the letter; if it did not show that +the United States was concerned in the matter, the rest became merely of +academic interest--and Harleston had little inclination and no time for +things academic. The difficulty was, that until the key to the cipher +was found nothing was academic which appeared to have any bearing on the +affair. + +So he sent for the manager of the Collingwood, and asked as to the +Chartrands. The manager's information, which was definite if not +extensive, was to the effect that the Chartrands were people of means +from Denver, with excellent social position there, and with connections +in Washington. They had been tenants of the Collingwood less than a +week, having sublet the Dryand apartment. It was a large apartment. Mr. +Chartrand was possibly forty-five, his wife thirty-eight or forty and +exceedingly good-looking. There was, of course, no record kept of their +visitors, nor did the house know who they were entertaining the previous +evening. He was entirely sure, however, that the Chartrands were above +suspicion. Mrs. Chartrand was a blonde, petite and slender; Chartrand +was tall and rather stout, with red hair, and a scar across his +forehead. As for the tall, slender woman who left the Collingwood at +three in the morning, he did not recognize her from the description; he +would, however, investigate at once. + +That it might be Madeline Spencer, now that her presence in Washington +was declared, Harleston thought possible. "Slender, twenty-eight, walks +as though the ground were hers," the telephone operator had said. He +would get the photograph from Carpenter and let Miss Williams see it. If +she 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, the +Secretary 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 in +that 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 not +dangerous to me, be she ever so beautiful, and fascinating, and +sinuous, 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 seeing +moonshine. I'll try to make the appointment for tomorrow at four." + +"Self-opinionated old mountebank," Harleston thought, as he went down +the corridor to Carpenter's office. "I shall enjoy watching Spencer make +all kinds of an ass of him. 'You impressible chaps!--not dangerous to +me!' Oh, Lord, the patronizing bumptiousness of the man!... Have you +anything for me, Carpenter?" he asked, as he entered the latter's +office. + +The Fifth Assistant was sitting with his feet on his desk, a cigar in +his mouth, his gaze fixed on vacancy. + +"Damn your old cipher, Harleston!" he remarked, coming out of his +abstraction. "It's bothered me more than anything I've tackled for +years. I can't make head nor tail of it. Its very simplicity--or seeming +simplicity--is what's tantalizing. It's in French. Of so much I feel +sure, though I've little more than intuition to back it. As you know, +this Vigenerie, or Blocked-Out Square, cipher is particularly difficult. +I've tried every word and phrase that's ever been used or discovered. We +have a complete record of them. None fit this case. Can you give me +anything additional that will be suggestive?" + +"Here's what I've brought," Harleston replied--and related, so far as +they seemed pertinent, the incidents of the previous afternoon and +evening. + +"A French message in an English envelope, inclosing an unmounted +photograph of Madeline Spencer, a well-known German Secret Agent in +Paris," Carpenter remarked slowly; "and the letter is borne by Madame +Durrand to the French Ambassador. You see, my intuition was right? the +letter is in French; and as it is of French authorship the key-word is +French. That narrows very materially our search. Find the key-word to +the Vigenerie cipher of the French Diplomatic Service and we shall have +the translation." + +"You haven't that word?" Harleston asked. + +"We've got quantities of keys to French ciphers, and numerous ones to +the Blocked-Out Square, but they won't translate this letter." He took +up a small book and opened it at a mark. "Here are samples of the +latter: _ecclesiastiques, coeur de roche, a deau eaux, fourreau, chateau +d'eau_, and so on. But, alas, none of them fits; the French Government +has a new key. Indeed, she changes it every month or oftener; sometimes +she 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 brisk +attempt. I will give orders at once. In the meantime, if you'll keep me +advised of what happens, we may be able to piece your and my information +together and make a word." + +"I'll do it!" Harleston replied and started toward the door. Half-way +across the room he suddenly whirled around. "Lord, Carpenter. what an +imbecile I am!" he exclaimed. "I fancy I've had the key-word all the +while and never realized it." + +"There are too many petticoats in this case," Carpenter shrugged. + +"Never mind the petticoats!" Harleston laughed. "Get out the letter and +try this phrase on it: _a l'aube du jour_." + +Without a word of comment, Carpenter set down the cipher message, letter +by letter, and wrote over it _a l'aube du jour_. Then he took up a +printed Blocked-Out Square and with incredible swiftness began to write +the translation. + +"Where did you get this 'at the break of day,' Harleston?" he asked as +he 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. If +you can supply a key to this key we may arrive. Such an array of +unpronounceables 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 many +consonants. I reckon my key-word isn't the key." + +"Try being held up again," Carpenter advised; "you may succeed the +second time. If Madeline Spencer is the holdee, no telling what you'd +find." + +"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 tons +of words. I'm a reader of secret ciphers; you don't imagine a mere +individual presents much of a problem. I tell you there are too many +petticoats mixed up in this affair of the cab of the sleeping horse," +Carpenter repeated. "Be careful, Harleston. Women are a menace--they +spoil 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't +spoil it now, Harleston, don't spoil it now. Millionaires and +day-labourers are the only classes that have any business to marry; the +rest of us chaps either can't afford the luxury, or are not quite poor +enough 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 it +warns." + +"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 leap +in--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 I +neglected to include a description of Mrs. Clephane." + +"Neglected with deliberation. And with you that is more significant than +if 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 you +permit, I'll tell you something about a Mrs. Clephane--queer name +Clephane, and rather unusual--whom I used to see in Paris," glancing +languidly at Harleston, "several years ago. Want to hear it?" + +"Sure!" said Harleston. "Drive on and keep driving. You won't drive over +me." + +"It isn't a great deal," Carpenter went on, slowly tearing the consonant +collection into bits, "and perchance it wasn't your Mrs. Clephane; but +her name, and her beauty and charm, and Paris, and some other inferences +I drew, led me to suspect that--" He completed the sentence by a wave of +his hand. "She was Robert Clephane's wife--yes, I see in your face that +she is your Mrs. Clephane--and he led her a merry life, though if rumour +lied not she kept up with the pace he set. I saw her frequently and she +was as--well you have not overdrawn the 'reticence picture.' Shall I +continue?" + +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 carefully +along the edge. + +"I seem to be in wrong, old man," he said. "Please forget that I ever +said it or anything--you understand." + +"My dear fellow, don't be an ass!" Harleston laughed. "I'm not sensitive +about the lady; I never saw her until last night." + +"Quite long enough for a man disposed to make a fool of himself--if the +lady is a beauty." + +"I'm disposed to hear more from you, if you care to tell me," Harleston +replied. "However, jesting aside, Carpenter, what do you know? Mrs. +Clephane is something of a puzzle to me, but I have concluded to accept +her story; yet I'm always open to conviction, and if I'm wrong now's the +time to enlighten me--the State comes first, you know." + +"Are you viewing Mrs. Clephane simply as a circumstance in the affair of +the 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 a +notoriously fast set in Paris, and her reputation was somewhat cloudy." + +"I know of that," returned Harleston, "also that Clephane was a roue, +and generally an exceedingly rotten lot." + +"Precisely--and her conduct as to him may be quite justifiable; yet +nevertheless it weakens her credibility; puts her story as to the letter +under suspicion. And there is one thing more: Clephane, you know, was +killed in an aeroplane smash. Did Mrs. Clephane tell you anything as to +it?" + +"Merely referred to it." + +"Well, at a dinner the night before, he effervesced that his wife had +repeatedly tried to poison him, and had told him only that evening that +she hoped the flight of the morrow would be his last, and that he would +fall so far it would be useless to dig for his remains. At the aviation +field the following day he appeared queer, and his friends urged him not +to try the flight; but he waved them aside, with the remark that maybe +Mrs. Clephane had drugged him and at last would win out. His fall came +a 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 from +having 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 accuse +anyone of anything at certain times. As a matter of fact, I wouldn't +blame Mrs. Clephane, nor any other woman, for chucking such a husband +out of the boat. It's contrary to the Acts of Assembly in such cases +made 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 and +disappear 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 trust +her, until I've seen something to warrant distrust--bearing in mind, +however, what you have just told me, and the possibility of my being +mistaken. 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." He +pushed back the instrument. "Mrs. Clephane has telephoned that she must +see me at once. Meanwhile--the key-word, my friend." + +Carpenter drummed on the table, and frowned at the door that had closed +behind Harleston. + +"The man's bewitched," he muttered. "However I threw a slight scare into +him, 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 telephone +operator. + +A moment later the elevator flashed into sight, and Mrs. Clephane +stepped out and came forward with the languorously lithe step, perfectly +in keeping with her slender figure. She wore a dark blue street suit, +and under her small hat her glorious hair flamed like an incandescent +aureole. 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 to +be 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're +the 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 anything +of diplomacy we would better cut them out--until we have finished with +diplomacy. Then you may offer as many as you like, and I'll believe them +or not as I'm minded." + +"Have it as you wish!" he smiled, looking into the brown eyes with frank +admiration. + +"Compliments may be conveyed by looks as well as by words," she +reproved. + +"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'm +prepared 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 help +me 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 France +are not working together in this matter, and for me to accompany you +would result simply in your being obliged to explain _me_ as well as the +letter, besides leading to endless complications and countless +suspicions. Didn't I expound this last evening?" + +"You did--also much more; but I've thought over it almost the whole +night, and I simply must get this miserable letter off my mind. Perhaps +Mrs. Spencer has forestalled me with the Ambassador and has given him +such a tale as will insure my being shown the door; nevertheless I'll +risk 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 pitiably +foolish, but I don't want Mrs. Durrand to know how I've bungled her +matter 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 for +your identity." + +"I know no one in Washington except the friends at the Shoreham, and +they 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 there +women from Washington it's been only casually. They won't recollect me, +any more than I would them, for purposes of vouchment or +identification." + +"Then go alone." + +"I will. It is the right thing to do. Yesterday I was thinking that you +had the letter and could return it to me. I waited. Today I can +appreciate your reason for withholding it--likewise the necessity for me +to 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 volunteer +in this affair, and I've decided that for me the course of discretion +and 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 the +Ambassador, 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 to +the entrance. + +"Every action is suspected and distrusted in diplomacy," he said, +"therefore I may not accompany you. Someone would be sure to see us and +report to the Embassy that I had brought you--the natural effect of +which would be to make the Marquis disbelieve your tale. For you see, +until we have translated the letter, we cannot assume that America is +not concerned." + +"And you will not think ill of me for disclosing your part in the +affair?" she asked. + +"Quite the contrary," he smiled. "Moreover, it is the course for you to +pursue; to hold back a single thing as to me will result only in +distrust. Indeed, implicating me will help substantiate your story." + +"You're very good and very thoughtful," she murmured--and once more +suffered him to look deep into her eyes. + +"I am very willing for you to think me both," he replied. "Now I'm going +to call a taxi at the Fourteenth Street exit, and follow yours up +Sixteenth Street until I see you at the French Embassy. Tell your +chauffeur to drive down to Twelfth Street, up to H and then out to +Sixteenth. My taxi will be loitering on Sixteenth and will pick up yours +as it passes and follow it to the Embassy. Once there you're out of +danger of the Spencer gang. And let me impress you with this fact: tell +the story to someone of the staff. If you fail to get to the Ambassador, +get a Secretary or an Attache." + +"I'll try to find someone who will listen!" she laughed. + +"And I rather fancy you will be successful," he smiled. "It would be a +most 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--wondering +why he had ever fancied Madeline Spencer. + +Mrs. Clephane gave her orders to the chauffeur, ending with the +injunction to drive slowly. + +As they swung into Sixteenth Street, a taxi standing before St. John's +Episcopal Church followed them; and Mrs. Clephane recognized Harleston +as its occupant. + +At the French Embassy she descended and rang the bell, and was instantly +admitted by a liveried footman. + +"I wish to see his Excellency the Ambassador!" she said, speaking in +French. + +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 his +fingers. + +"Messes Cleephane?" he inquired. + +"I am Mrs. Clephane," she replied in French. "I wish to see his +Excellency the Ambassador on a most important matter." + +"You have an appointment with his Excellency?" he asked, this time in +French. + +"You are--" she inflected. + +"His secretary, madame," the young man bowed. + +"No, I have not an appointment," she replied, "but I come from Madame +Durrand 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 the +Ambassador that I am here." + +"His Excellency is exceedingly busy--will you not relate the +circumstances to me?" + +"My instructions from Madame Durrand are most specific that I am to deal +only with his Excellency," Mrs. Clephane explained--with such a dazzling +smile that the secretary's eyes fairly popped. "Won't you please tell +him 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--and +he hesitated no longer. + +"Come with me, Madame Clephane," he replied "His Excellency is occupied +at present, but I'll deliver your message." + +Once more the smile--as opening the door for her he bowed her into an +inner office, and carefully placed a chair for her. + +"A moment, madame," he whispered, disappearing through an adjoining +doorway. + +Whereat Mrs. Clephane sighed with amused complacency, and waited. + +Presently the door opened and the secretary appeared. "His Excellency +will receive you, Madame Clephane," he said. + +"I thank you--oh, so much!" she whispered as she passed him--and the +look that went with the words cleared all her scores--and almost +finished him. + +So much for a smile--when a beautiful woman smiles, and smiles in just +the right way, and especially when the man smiled on is a Frenchman. + +The Ambassador was standing by a large, flat-topped desk in the centre +of the room, his back was to the light, which was generously given in +all its effulgence to his visitors. He was a small man and slight of +build, intensely nervous, with well-cut features, gray hair--what there +was of it--and a tiny black moustache curled up at the ends but not +waxed. + +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 my +misfortune 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 in +comparison the secretary's smile was simply as nothing. + +"Your Excellency overwhelms me," she replied. "I'm positively trembling +with apprehension lest I fail to--" she dropped into English--"make +good." + +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 Madame +Durrand on the steamer to the present moment--omitting only the +immaterial personal portions occurring between Harleston and herself, +and the fact that his taxi had escorted hers until she was at the +Embassy. + +Her narrative was punctuated throughout by the Marquis's constant +exclamations of wonder or interest; but further than exclaiming, in the +nervous French way, he made no interruption. + +And on the whole, she told her story well; at first she was a little +nervous, which made her somewhat at a loss for words; yet that soon +passed, 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; I +shall be only too glad to answer if I am able." + +"Madame's narrative has been most detailed and most satisfactory," the +Marquis answered. "But let me ask you to explain, if you can, why Madame +Durrand 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, a +letter." + +"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," she +replied. "The station officials selected it. I was thinking of +her--Madame Durrand, I mean--more than the name of the hospital. I don't +even know the street; though it's somewhere in the locality of the +station. It is dreadfully stupid of me, your Excellency, not to +know--but I don't." + +"We can remedy that very readily," he said, and pressed a button. His +secretary responded. "Telephone our Consul-General in New York to +ascertain immediately from the railroad officials the hospital to which +Madame Durrand, who broke her ankle and wrist in the Pennsylvania +Station, at ten o'clock on Monday, was taken." + +The secretary saluted and withdrew. + +"Might not our friends the enemy have bribed someone to suppress Madame +Durrand's letter or wire?" Mrs. Clephane asked. + +"Very possibly. It is entirely likely that they wouldn't be apt to stop +with the accident." + +"You think they were responsible for Madame Durrand's fall?" she +exclaimed. + +"Have you forgotten the man who jostled Madame Durrand?" the Marquis +reminded. + +"To be sure! How stupid not to think of it. You see, your Excellency, I +am not accustomed to the ways of diplomacy and to assuming every one's a +rogue 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 have +the same ways, it's fair, I suppose, among one another." + +"Did you tell Monsieur Harleston your opinion of our vocation?" he +asked. + +"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 is +a man of rare discrimination and admirable taste." + +"Now won't you please tell me, your Excellency, if you credit, no, if +you _believe_, my story--and don't be a diplomat for the telling." + +"My dear Madame Clephane, I do believe your tale--it bears the impress +of truth in what you've not done, as well as in what you've done. Had +you ever been in the service you would recognize my meaning. That the +abductors did not triumph was due first to their carelessness, and +second to chance, in the person of Monsieur Harleston. He plays the +game; 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 do +otherwise. And France would infinitely prefer the United States to have +the letter rather than Germany. It's unfortunate, but it's not as +unfortunate as it might be." + +"You make me feel much, oh, so much better!" Mrs. Clephane replied. "I +feared lest my blunder could never be forgiven nor forgotten; and that +Madame Durrand would be held responsible and would never again be +trusted." + +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 is +neither 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?" he +interjected. "Alas, no! Monsieur Harleston would only assume the +translation to be false and given for the sole purpose of deception. I +should assume exactly the same, were our positions reversed." + +"Couldn't you prove your translation by giving him the key to the +cipher?" she asked. + +"My dear madame," the Marquis smiled, "such a thing would be +unprecedented--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 letter +repeated by cable." + +"Also we can cable the government to dispatch another letter," the +Ambassador soothed. "There are plenty of ways out of the difficulty, so +don't give yourself any concern--and the United States is welcome to the +letter. It will be a far day, I assure you, ere its cipher bureau +translates 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 will +be where?" + +"I will be at the Chateau until this matter is straightened out--and +subject 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, and +bowed 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 is +about. Let him report as quickly as he has anything definite. I'll cable +Paris at once as to the letter." + + + + +XIV + +THE SLIP OF PAPER + + +Madeline Spencer, leaning languidly against the mahogany table in the +corner of the drawing-room, drummed softly with her finger tips as she +listened. + +"What is the use of it all?" Marston was asking. "We can't get the +letter. Harleston evidently told the truth; he has turned it over to the +State Department, so why not be content that it's there, and let well +enough alone?" + +"I've been letting well enough alone by occupying them with the notion +that the letter is the thing most desired," Mrs. Spencer returned. +"Muddying the water, as it were, so as to obscure the main issue and get +away 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 she +didn't beat it there direct from the train I can't imagine. Such +ignorance is a large asset for those of us who know. I had thought of +impersonating her and amusing myself with d'Hausonville, but I concluded +it wasn't worth while. It _riles_ me, however, that the affair was so +atrociously bungled by Crenshaw and the others. What possessed them to +release Mrs. Clephane once they had her?--and what in Heaven's name made +them overlook the letter in the cab?" + +"Search me!" Marston replied. + +"There is no occasion to search you, Marston," she smiled, "I shouldn't +find 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 in +your choice of assistants, Marston. They are a stupid lot. You may send +them 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 that +chap Harleston's butting into the affair. Who would have foreseen that +he would happen along just at that particular moment and scoop the +letter without turning a hair. It was rotten luck sure." + +"It was all easy enough if the blundering fools had only exercised an +atom of sense," Mrs. Spencer retorted. "Mrs. Clephane couldn't deceive a +normal 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 give +them the plausible story that it was locked in the hotel safe. And the +hotel safe was the reasonable place for her to leave the letter until +she had seen the Ambassador, and someone from the Embassy could return +with her and get the letter." + +"Granted--if Mrs. Clephane were a wise woman and in the service. She +isn't wise and she isn't in the service; and both these facts are so +apparent that he who runs may read. She played the Buissards for fools +and won. If they had exercised the intelligence of an infant, they'd +have known that she had the letter with her when she left the hotel. You +got a glimmer of light when you thought of the cab--and Mrs. Clephane +told you that Mr. Harleston had stopped and looked at the sleeping +horse and then started him toward Dupont Circle. You came to me to +report--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 his +apartment didn't succeed; though somewhat later Crenshaw did act as a +semi-reasonable man, and secured the letter--only to foozle again like +an imbecile. The play in the hotel last night, as schemed by us, should +have gone through and eliminated Clephane and Harleston for a time; but +Harleston upset things by his quick action and sense of +danger--moreover, he guessed as to Clephane, for the management got wise +and made a search, and the dear lady found Harleston and me in Peacock +Alley--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 French +Ambassador knows that a cipher letter to him from his Foreign Minister +has been intercepted and is in the hands of the American State +Department. Second--as it is in letter cipher, there isn't much +likelihood of it being translated. Third--the matter covered by the +letter must be something that they are reluctant to send by cable; for +you know, Marston, that the United States, in common with European +nations, requires all telegraph and cable companies to forward +immediately to the State Department a copy of every cipher message +addressed to a foreign official. Maybe they are not able to translate +it, but of that the sending nation cannot be sure and it makes it very +careful, particularly when the local government is affected. +Fourth--France will have to choose between consuming a week in getting +another letter from Paris to Washington, or she will have to chance the +cable 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 United +States, than to let Germany succeed." + +"May she not be content now to warn the United States?" suggested +Marston. + +"It's quite possible. All depends whether the letter concerns my +mission. We have been informed by the Wilhelm-strasse that it probably +does, and directed to prevent its delivery to the French Ambassador. +We've succeeded in preventing, but bungled it over to the United +States--the one country that we shouldn't have aroused. What in the +devil's name ails your assistants, Marston--particularly Crenshaw?" + +"To be quite candid," Marston replied, "he had a grouch; he thought that +Sparrow and I flub-dubbed the matter of the cab, and deliberately tried +to lose him when we went to the Collingwood. And when he did come, he +drew 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 my +beautiful eyes, to do with Crenshaw and Sparrow?" + +"What usually happens to the men who are associated with you in any +enterprise: they get daffy over you." + +"Because they get daffy over me is no excuse for stupid execution of the +business in hand," she shrugged. "_You_ never have been guilty of +stupidity, Marston." + +"Because I've managed never to be a fool about you--however much I have +been tempted to become one." + +"Have been, Marston?" she inflected. + +"Have been--and _am_," he bowed. "I'm not different from the +rest--only--" + +She curled herself on a divan, and languidly stretched her slender +rounded 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 keep +my head." + +"And your heart, too, _mon ami_?" + +"My heart is the servant of my head. When it ceases so to be, I shall +ask 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 tied +Marston 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--and +that she knew that he knew it. It was Madeline Spencer's experience with +men that such as she tried for she usually got. There were exceptions, +but them she could count on the fingers of one hand. Harleston--though +for a time he was on the verge of submission--was an exception. And for +that she was ready to rend him at the fitting opportunity; the more so +because her own feelings had been aroused. As they were once before with +Armand Dalberg--who had calmly put her in her place, and tumbled her +schemes 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 that +fed itself on his scorn of her. + +She had dared much with Dalberg--and often; and always she had lost. The +Duke 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 be +in affairs, had mixed in diplomacy, and had quickly become an expert in +tortuous moves of the tortuous game. + +Then one day she encountered Harleston, and bested him. With a rare good +nature for a diplomat, he had taken his defeat with a smile, at the same +time observing her manifold attractions with a careful eye and an +indulgent mind for the past. Which caused her to look at him again, and +to think of him frequently; and at last to want him for her own--after a +little while. And he had appeared not averse to the wanting--after a +little while. Now, just as he was about to succumb, he was suddenly +whisked away by another woman--that woman simply a later edition of +herself: the same figure, the same poise, the same methods, the same +allurements; but younger in years, fresher, and, she admitted it to +herself, less acquainted with the ways of men. And now she had lost +him; and never would she be able to get him back. Another woman had +filched 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 back +to 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 to +remain 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 corps +of assistants." + +"The longer the delay the more chance France has to repeat the letter by +cable," Marston remarked. + +"Certainly--but I shan't be fool enough to tell him so, or anything as +to 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 is +a serious business." + +"Particularly since Harleston is on the trail?" Marston added. + +Mrs. Spencer nodded again. "We'll pray that he does not uncover the +matter 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's +really up to the--man in the case. If he can get away with it, we can +manage the rest." + +"And if he can't?" + +"Then there will be nothing on us, unless the Clephane letter is +translated and implicates me by name--or Paris resorts to cable. If it +were not for France's meddling, it would be ridiculously simple so far +as 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'm +a woman. I haven't even so much as tried to guess. I was ordered here +under express instructions; which are to meet someone who will +communicate with me by letter in which a certain phrase will occur. +Thereafter I am to be guided by him and the circumstances until I +receive from him a certain package, when I am instantly to depart the +country and hurry straight to Berlin. Whether I am to receive a copy of +a secret treaty between our friends or our enemies, a diplomatic secret +of high importance, a report on the fortifications or forces of another +nation, or what it is, I haven't the slightest idea. It's all in the +game--and the game fascinates me; its dangers and its uncertainty. Some +other nation wants what Germany is about to get; some other nation seeks +to prevent its betrayal; some other nation seeks to block us; someone +else would even murder us to gain a point--and our own employer would +not raise a hand to seek retribution, or even to acknowledge that we +had died in her cause. They laud the soldier who dies for his flag, but +he who dies in the secret service of a government is never heard of. He +disappears; for the peace or the reputation of nations his name is not +upon 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, the +remuneration is the best." + +"You're quite right as to those high up in the service," Marston +remarked, "the remuneration, I mean, but not as to us poor devils who +are only the pawns. We not only have no glory nor honour, but +considering 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 of +working 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 of +fine courtesy and absolute devotion. + +"And we shall win this time, Marston," she went on, "we shall sail for +Europe 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 she +wished, could smile a man into fire--and out again. It was too soon for +the "out again" with Marston. He was very useful--he was not restless, +nor demanding, nor sensitive, nor impatient of others, nor jealous. He +was like a faithful dog, who adores and adores, and pleads only to be +allowed to adore. Moreover, he was a capable man and trustworthy; +dependable and far above his class. Therefore she took care that his +chains should be silken, yet at the same time that he be not permitted +to 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 be +purchasable--if we made him a good stiff bid?" + +"I don't know," she answered. "It isn't likely, however; he is too old +and tried an official to be venal. Furthermore we haven't any money at +hand, and my instructions are to act independently of the German +Embassy, and under no circumstances whatever to communicate with it. In +such business as we are engaged, the Embassy never knows us nor of our +plans. They don't dare to know; and they will calmly deny us if we +appeal to them." + +"The money might be arranged," Marston suggested. "You could cable to +Berlin for it--and have it cabled back." + +"It might be done," said she thoughtfully. "You mean to try Carpenter +for a copy of the cipher letter?" + +"It won't do any particular harm, as I see it; it can't make us any +worse off and it may give us the letter. It's worth the trial, it seems +to me." + +"But if Carpenter has not succeeded in finding the key-word, how will +the letter help? Do you expect to bribe the French Embassy also?" + +"It may not be necessary," he replied. "I know a number of keys of +French ciphers; one of them may fit." + +"Very well," said she quietly; "you are empowered to have a try at +Carpenter." + +"Good--I'll start after it at once. Any further orders, madame?" + +"None till evening," again holding out her hand--and again smiling him +into 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 keeps +him devoted to me. Yes, a very useful and satisfactory man. His idea of +corrupting Carpenter may be rather futile; and he may get into a snarl +by trying it, but," with a shrug of her shapely shoulders, "that is his +affair and won't involve me. And if he should prove successful, the new +French key-word which the Count, the dear Count, gave me just before I +left 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 a +ball, two evenings before she sailed on her present mission. He was not +aware that she was sailing, nor was she; the order came so suddenly that +she and her maid had barely time to fling a few things in a couple of +steamer 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 to +hold him. + +Languidly she reached for her little gold mesh bag--the one thing that +never 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 the +rule that he whispered to her--also the squeeze he gave her hand, and +the kiss with the eyes. The Count had fine eyes--he could look much, +very much.... She smiled in retrospection.... Yet how did she drop that +bit of paper--and where?... Or did she drop it?... All the rest were +there. It was very peculiar.... She had referred to the De Neviers slip +on last Saturday--and she distinctly remembered that the Count's was +there at that time. Consequently she must have dropped it on Sunday when +she was studying the Rosny matter, and then she was in this room--and +Marston 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 anything +out of the words: + +_A l'aube du jour_. + + + + +XV + +IDENTIFIED + + +So it happened, that on the same day and practically at the same hour +Carpenter gave instructions looking to the pilfering of the French +private diplomatic cipher, Marston began to lay plans to test +Carpenter's venality, and Madeline Spencer betook herself to Union +Station to meet the man-in-the-case, whose face she had never seen, and +whose name she did not know. + +She went a roundabout way, walking down F Street and stopping to make +some trifling purchases in two or three shops. She could not detect that +she was being followed, but she went into a large department store, and +spent considerable time in matching some half-dozen shades of ribbon. On +the way out she stepped into a telephone booth, and directed the +dispatcher at the Chateau to send a taxi to Brentano's for Mrs. +Williams. By the time she had leisurely crossed the street the taxi was +there; getting in, she gave the order to drive to Union Station by way +of Sixteenth Street and Massachusetts Avenue. As she passed the Chateau, +she saw Mrs. Clephane and Harleston coming out; a bit farther on they +shot by in a spanking car. + +She drew back to avoid recognition; but they were too much occupied with +each other, she observed, even to notice the occupant of the humble but +high-priced taxi. At Scott Circle their car swung westward and +disappeared down Massachusetts Avenue; she turned eastward, toward +tomorrow's rising sun, Union Station, and the rendezvous--with hate in +her heart for the woman who had displaced her, and a firm resolve to +square accounts at the first opportunity. Mrs. Clephane might be +innocent, likely was innocent of any intention to come between Harleston +and her, but that did not relieve Mrs. Clephane from punishment, nor +herself from the chagrin of defeat and the sorrow of blasted hopes. The +balance was against her; and, be it man or woman, she always tried to +balance up promptly and a little more--when the balancing did not +interfere with the business on which she was employed. Madeline +Spencer, for one of her sort, was exceptional in this: she always kept +faith with the hand that paid her. + +At Union Station she dismissed the taxi and walked briskly to the huge +waiting-room. There she dropped the briskness, and went leisurely down +its long length to the drug stand, where she bought a few stamps and +then passed out through the middle aisle to the train shed, inquiring on +the way of an attendant the time of the next express from Baltimore. To +his answer she didn't attend, nevertheless she thanked him graciously, +and seeing the passengers were beginning to crowd through the gates from +an incoming train she turned toward them, as if she were expecting +someone. 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 the +gates, and there was no excuse for remaining, another five had gone. The +appointment was for three exactly. She had not been concerned to keep it +to the minute, but the man should have been; as a woman, it was her +prerogative to be careless as to such matters; moreover she had found +it an advantage, as a rule, to be a trifle late, except with her +superiors or those to whom either by position or expediency it was well +to 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 off +his hat and greeted her with the glad smile of an old acquaintance. + +"Why, how do you do, Mrs. Cuthbert!" he exclaimed. "This is an +unexpected pleasure, and _most opportune_." + +There was a slight stress on the last two words:--the words of +recognition. + +"Delightful, Mr. _Davidson_!" she returned--which continued the +recognition--taking his extended hand and holding it. + +"Can't I see you to your car, or carriage, or whatever you're using?" he +asked. + +"You may call a taxi," she replied; "and you may also come with me, if +you'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._" Which +completed 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 take +you 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 we +shall go and what we shall have." + +"You're always considerate and kind," he averred. "If nothing untoward +occurs, it will be a fine chance to talk over old times, to explain +everything, and to arrange for the future." + +"That will be charming!" + +"And unless I am disappointed in a _certain matter_, I shall have a +surprise for you." + +"I shall welcome the surprise." + +"We both shall welcome it, I think!" he laughed. "It seems a long time +since I've seen you, Madeline," he added. + +"It seems a long time to me, too, Billy. We must do better now, old +friend. Come to Paris and we'll make such a celebration of it that the +Boulevards will run with--gaiety." + +"I shall come. Meanwhile--tomorrow." He raised his stick to the taxi +dispatcher. "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 you +will and how." + +"I like you, Billy!" she exclaimed. + +"And I've something more to tell you," he whispered, as he put her in +and closed the door. "The Chateau!" he said to the driver then stepping +back, he doffed his hat and waved his hand. + +"Yes, I like you, Mr. Davidson," she smiled, as the taxi sped away, "but +I'll like you better when the present business is completed and I'm in +Paris--without you." + +He was a handsome chap enough, and he would have considerable money when +the 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 with +plucking for plucking's sake. She plucked still, but neither so +ruthlessly nor so omnivorously as of yore. She did not need; nor was she +so gregarious in her tastes. She could pick and choose, and wait--and +have some joy of _Him_ and take her time; be content not to pluck him +clean, 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 she +aimed--and her aim was usually true. Neither with one of her tastes and +tendencies was monogamy apt to be attractive nor practiced--though at +times it subserved her expediency. At present, it was the Count de +M----, 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, she +dwelt in the odor of eminent respectability and sedate gaiety. + +"Drive slowly through Rock Creek Park until I tell you to return," she +ordered the man when they had passed beyond the station; then withdrew +into a corner of the taxi, and busied herself with her thoughts. + +It was almost two hours later that she gave him the Collingwood as a +destination. + +At the Collingwood she dismissed the taxi, and without sending up her +name passed directly up to Mrs. Chartrand's apartment. + +Miss Williams, who was on duty at the telephone desk, saw her--and +whistled softly. The instant the elevator door clanged shut, she rang +Harleston. + +"If you can come down a moment, Mr. Harleston," she said softly, "I have +some 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 going +out. + +"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 on +up. 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 the +photograph of Madeline Spencer. + +"Sure thing!" she exclaimed. "That's she, all right. How in the world +did 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 to +detail now. Some day soon I'll confide in you, for you've helped me very +much in this matter and deserve to know. In fact, you've helped me more +than you can imagine. Meanwhile mum's the word, remember." + +"Mum, it is, Mr. Harleston," she replied, "For once a telephone girl +won'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. The +happenings of the recent evening were quite intelligible to him now: + +When the episode of the cab of the sleeping horse occurred, Mrs. Spencer +was in the Chartrand apartment. Marston, in some way, had learned of +Harleston's participation in the cab matter, and with Sparrow had +followed him to the Collingwood, entering by the fire-escape--with the +results already seen. The noise on the fire-escape was undoubtedly made +by them, and the long interval that elapsed before they entered his +apartment was consumed in reporting to her, or in locating his number. + +One thing, however, was not clear: how they had learned so promptly of +Harleston's part in the affair, and that it was he who had taken the +letter from the cab. Either someone had seen him at the cab and had +babbled to the Marston crowd, or else Mrs. Winton or Mrs. Clephane had +not been quite frank in her story. He instantly relieved Mrs. Clephane +of culpability; Mrs. Winton did not count with him. Moreover, it was no +longer of any moment--since Spencer's people knew and had acted on their +knowledge, and were still acting on it--and were still without the +letter. The important thing to Harleston was that it had served to +disclose what promised to be a most serious matter to this country, and +which, but for the trifling incident of the cab, would likely have gone +through successfully--and America been irretrievably injured. + +Madeline Spencer had assured him that the United States was not +concerned; that the matter had to do only with a phase of the Balkan +question. But such assurances were worthless and given only to deceive, +and, further, were so understood by both of them. Maybe her story was +true--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 such +a course was unthinkable; it would violate every rule of the game; it +would complicate relations with Germany, and afford her adequate ground +for reprisals on our secret agents. A certain code of honour obtained +with 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. I +have something important to discuss." + +"So have I," he replied. "I'll be along in an hour, or sooner if you +want me." + +"I want you, Mr. Harleston," she laughed, "but I can wait an hour, I +suppose." + +"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 with +me, 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. +_A bientot_, Monsieur Harleston." + +He telephoned to the Club for a taxi to be at the door at a quarter to +seven; 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 on +toward the door--just as the elevator shot down and Madeline Spencer +stepped 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're +bound 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 and +gave 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 the +non-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 precise +character of the business that brings me here. I've told you all I +know--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 do +less under all the--admitted circumstances; inferentially and directly +admitted." + +"Why did you--butt in?" she asked. "Why didn't you let the cab, and the +letter, and well enough alone?" + +"It was so mysterious; and so full of possibilities," he smiled. "And +when 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," she +retorted. + +"Possibly! I've never yet heard that personal feelings entered into the +diplomatic secret service--and no more have you, my lady." + +"Personal feelings!" she smiled, and shrugged his answer aside. "When +did you first know that I was concerned in this affair?" + +"When I saw you in the Chateau," he replied--there was no obligation on +him to mention the photograph. + +"Which was?" she asked. + +"The evening I met you in Peacock Alley. How long then had you been +here?" + +"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 well +understood what it imported and what prompted it. For the first time +the tigress had disclosed her claws. Hitherto it was always the soft +caress and the soothing purr--and when she wished, her caress could be +very soft and her purr very soothing. He had assumed that there were +claws, but she had hidden them from him; and what is ever hidden one +after a time forgets. And she had some justification for her resentment. +He admitted to himself that his attitude and manner had been such as +might cause her to believe that she was more to him than an opponent in +a game, that he was about to forgive her past, and to ask her to warrant +only for the future. And he had a notion that she was prepared to +warrant and to keep the warrant--even as she had done with the Duke of +Lotzen. Now it was ended. He knew it. + +And she knew it, too. One sight of Mrs. Clephane with him and she +realized that he was lost to her: Mrs. Clephane had all her outward +grace and beauty, but not her past. Her woman's intuition had told her +in the red-room of the Chateau; she knew absolutely when she saw his +greeting to Mrs. Clephane in the corridor after her escape. She must go +back to her Count de M----, her Cabinet Minister, and her Russian Grand +Duke. 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, when +another--outwardly her _alter ego_, save only in the colour of her +hair--appeared and filched him from her. And whether Dalberg's scorn or +Harleston'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 Dalberg +loved, so with an even more bitter hatred she hated Mrs. Clephane who +had won Harleston from her. For while with Dalberg she never had the +slightest chance, and knew it perfectly, with Harleston there was the +bitterness of blasted hopes as well as of defeat. + +And Harleston, sitting there beside her, the perfume of her hair and +garments heavy about him, read much that was in her thoughts; and some +remorse smote him--a little of remorse, that is--and he would have said +something in mitigation of her judgment. But a look at her--and the +excuse 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 best +to let the matter rest. Meanwhile, Mrs. Clephane must be warned of the +danger confronting her. + +He glanced again at her--and met her subtle smile. + +"This Mrs. Clephane," she remarked with quiet derision, "wherein is she +different 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 answered +my question. Wherein is Mrs. Clephane different from the rest of us?" + +"At the risk of being personal," he replied, "I should say that she is +very like you in face and figure and manner. If her hair were black, the +resemblance 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, an +answer 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, what +it 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 she +cleverer 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 as +intellectual." + +"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; but +Harleston was aware that underneath there was bitterness of spirit, and +cold 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 be +sure to catch the recoil, and because he himself was very fond of +her--despite all and Mrs. Clephane. He had seen his mistake in time, if +it was a mistake, but that did not blind him to Madeline Spencer's +fascinating manner and beautiful person, and to the fact that she cared +for him. However, neither might he let pass the charge she had just made +against 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 case +under such circumstances he played for time--the hotel was but a block +away--and made a mess of it, so far as the woman beside him was +concerned. + +"Who are a trifle tinctured--and with what?" he asked. + +She smiled languidly. + +"That is scarcely worthy of you, Guy," she remarked. "You are aiming +at--windmills; at least, I think you are not suddenly gone stupid. +However, you do not need to answer. Mrs. Clephane, you think, is not +tinctured, and you know that I have been--several shades deep. In other +words, she surpasses me in your estimation in the petty matter of +morals. So be it; you're no fool, and a pretty woman cannot blind you to +the facts for long. Then we shall see which you prefer. The woman who +is honest about the tincture, or the woman who is not. Now let us drop +the matter, and attend strictly to business until such time as the +present 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 drew +in to the curb. + +"So well, indeed," he continued, as he gave her his hand to the +sidewalk, "that I have to arrange for you to meet the Secretary of State +at 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--and +take my chances. From all I can learn, the gentleman isn't much but +bumptiousness and wind. To either you or me, Guy, he should be easy." + +"The play," Harleston explained, "is that the Secretary has heard of you +and wishes to see the remarkable woman who--almost upset a throne." + +"His wish shall be gratified," she shrugged. "Will you come for me, or +am I to go to him--a rendezvous _a 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 of +advantage to your--" + +"--beautiful and fascinating self," he interjected. + +She raised her eyebrows and laughed scornfully, as the lift bore her +upwards. + + + + +XVI + +ANOTHER LETTER + + +Harleston sauntered through Peacock Alley; not finding Mrs. Clephane, he +had himself announced and went up to her apartment. + +Outwardly he was impassive; inwardly there was the liveliest sensation +of eagerness and anticipation. He could not recall a time when he had so +much joy in living, and in the expectation of the woman. And when he +felt 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 dine +with 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, this +afternoon--in the Chartrands' apartment. And the telephone girl +recognized her as the woman who left the building on the night of +the--cab." + +"That explains a lot to you!" Mrs. Clephane exclaimed. + +"The explanation isn't necessary, except to complete the chain of +events," he replied. "We know the later and essential facts as to the +letter. 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 the +Spencer 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 at +the cab. Well, when they released me, I concluded I'd give them +something to think about, and I remarked that Mr. Harleston, of the +United States Diplomatic Service, had stopped at the cab, looked inside, +and then started the horse out Massachusetts Avenue. I thought I had +told you." + +"You didn't tell me, but it's very plain now. Madeline Spencer inferred +the rest and instructed them how to act. And they came very close to +turning the trick." + +"You mean to getting the letter?" she cried. + +He nodded. "I had gone to bed, when something told me to take +precautions; I carried the letter across the corridor and gave it to a +friend to keep for me until morning. A short time after, the three men +called." + +"Good Heavens!" she breathed. "What if they had gotten the letter." + +"Unless they knew the key-word, they wouldn't have been any better off +than 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 be +out of it and back to my normal ways that I gladly promise never to try +it again. I'm committed to seeing this affair through and to aiding the +French Embassy in whatever way I can, both because I must keep faith +with Madame Durrand, and because my inexperience and credulity lost it +the 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 do +or have done," he replied. + +For just an instant she gave him her eyes; then the colour flamed up and +she turned hastily away. + +"Sit down, sir," she commanded--most adorably he thought; "I had almost +forgotten 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 him +to a chair. + +"Madame Durrand has been located," she began. "The Embassy telephoned +me that she is in Passavant Hospital, getting along splendidly; and that +she duly wired them of her accident and of my having the letter, with an +identifying description of me. The wire was never received." + +"It was blocked by a _present_," he remarked. "The wire never left the +hospital." + +"So the Marquis d'Hausonville said. He also assured me that the letter +was of no immediate importance, and that steps were being taken to have +it repeated." + +"Which may be true," Harleston smiled, "but it is entirely safe to +assume that he is acting precisely as though the letter was of the most +immediate importance. You may be sure that the moment you left him he +dispatched a cable to Paris reciting the facts, so that the Foreign +Office could judge whether to cable the letter or to dispatch it by +messenger. And he has the reply hours ago."--("Also," he might have +added, "our State Department--only it may not be able to translate it.") +"I should say, Mrs. Clephane, that your duty is done now, unless the +Marquis calls on you for assistance. You have performed your part--" + +"Very poorly," she interjected. + +"On the contrary, you have performed it exceptionally well. You, a +novice at this business, prevented the letter from falling into +Spencer'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 said +slowly. + +Again the flush came--and her glance wavered, and fled away. + +"Meanwhile," he went on, "I am quite content to know that you think me +nice to you." + +She sprang up and moved out of distance, saying as she did so, with a +ravishing 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 the +particular 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 of +us--and the business in hand. Diplomats, you are well aware, are given +to very disingenuous ways and methods." + +"In diplomacy," he appended. "A diplomat, as a rule, is merely a man of +a little wider experience and more mature judgment--the American +diplomat alone excepted, save in the secret service. Therefore he knows +his mind, and what he wants; and he usually can be depended upon to keep +after 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 the +world." + +"You have succeeded!" he exclaimed. + +"I've about-faced," she went on. "Now I presume everybody trustworthy +until it's proven otherwise. Time was, and not so long ago, when I was +more than cynical; and I found it didn't pay in a woman. A man may be +cynical and get away with it; a woman only injures her complexion, and +makes trouble for herself. Me for the happy spirit, and side-stepping +the bumps." + +"Good girl!" Harleston applauded--thinking of her unhappy spirit, and +the hard bumps she must have endured during the time that the late +deceased 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 much +too 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 means +mysterious, which means diplomatic, which means deception--which warns +us 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 replied +tantalizingly and adorably. + +"I'm perfectly aware of it," he responded, leaning forward over the +back 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 am +ready too. Until then I'm your good friend--and dinner companion." + +He had spoken jestingly--yet the jest was mainly pretence; the real +passion was there and ready the instant he let it control. As for Mrs. +Clephane, Harleston did not know. Nor did she herself know--more than +that 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 took +it, 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; yet +it'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 not +paying a social visit." + +"You fancy correctly," Mrs. Clephane replied. "She came to the apartment +unannounced; and when I, chancing to be passing the door when she +knocked, opened it, and saw who was without, I almost cried out with +surprise. I didn't cry out, however. On the contrary, remembering +diplomatic ways, I most cordially invited her in. To do her justice, +Mrs. Buissard, beyond expressing hope that I had experienced no ill +effect from the occurrence of the other night, wasted no time in coming +to business." + +"'Mrs. Clephane,' she said, sitting on the corner of the table just +where you are sitting now, 'I have a proposition to make to you--may I +make it?' + +"I could see no reason to forbid, so I acquiesced. + +"'And if you cannot accept straightway, will you promise to forget that +it was made?' she asked. + +"Again I acquiesced. I admit, I was curious. + +"'We assume,' said she, 'that between France and Germany you are +indifferent.' + +"'Paris and Berlin have each their good points,' I replied. + +"'Quite so,' she acquiesced; 'just now, however, we ask you to favour +Berlin and for a consideration.' + +"'I don't want a consideration,' I smiled; 'tell me what's the favour +you seek?' + +"'We ask you,' she replied instantly, 'to take a letter to the French +Ambassador and tell him that it is the letter Madame Durrand gave you in +New York, and that it has just been returned to you by the American +State Department.' + +"'Have you the letter with you?' I asked. + +"'I have,' she replied, producing it from her bag. 'It may not exactly +resemble the original.' + +"'It doesn't,' said I. + +"'But the French Ambassador won't know it,' she smiled. 'Further, so as +to make the matter entirely regular with you, you will receive an +appointment in the German Secret Service and five thousand dollars in +advance.' + +"'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 to +take such a course as is proposed; there is nothing unusual about it. +And, my dear Mrs. Clephane, a position in the German Foreign Secret +Service is a rare plum, I can assure you, even though you may not care +to be--active in it.' + +"Naturally, I understood. Mrs. Spencer thinking me the same type as +herself, without conscience, character, or morals, had evolved this plan +either to test me or to ensnare me. To test me, because she is jealous +of you; or to ensnare me because she wants to win out diplomatically--or +both, it may be. I am a poor hand at pretence; but I played the game, as +you would say, to the best of my ability. So I seemed to fall in with +her scheme; France was nothing to me; I had been given no option in the +matter of accepting the letter and attempting its delivery; I had done +all and more than could be expected of a disinterested person; I had +lost the letter but through no fault of mine. I was acquitted of further +responsibility; was at liberty to choose. And Mrs. Buissard agreed with +me in everything. In the end, I accepted the spurious letter for +delivery to the French Ambassador." + +"Good!" Harleston applauded. "You're learning the method of diplomacy +very rapidly; fire with fire, ruse with ruse, deceit with +deceit--anything for the object in hand." + +"It went against me to do it," she admitted, "but I'll pay them in their +own coin--or something to that effect. Of course, I've no intention of +delivering the letter to the French Embassy. I'll deliver it to you +instead." + +"Delightful!" Harleston exclaimed. "You're a bully diplomat. However, +I'm not so sure that Spencer ever imagined her letter would reach the +Marquis. She's playing for something else, though what is by no means +clear. 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 single +sheet of paper--on which was an assortment of letters, set down +separately 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 the +Blocked-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 there +were. This letter is spurious; there is nothing to find from it, even if +we could translate it. It's intended as a plant; either for us or for +the Marquis; but I fancy, for us--so with your permission we will waste +no time on it further than to keep alert for its purpose. When were you +to 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 occupied +with meeting her on her own ground and playing the game. I was crazy to +get the letter so I could show it to you." + +"Which doubtless was what she too wanted; I can't see through her +scheme--unless it is to muddy the water while the main play is being +pulled off. And our men haven't discovered a single material thing, +though they have had Spencer and all the rest of the gang under shadow +since 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 man +who 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 independent +means, who lives at the Boulogne." + +"I'm acquainted with him," returned Harleston. "I can't think that he's +crooked. I reckon Spencer's figure and face attracted him--or probably +he has known her in Europe." + +"I'm only giving you the facts: he's the first man, other than those of +her entourage, that she has met since we've had her under surveillance. +It was at Union Station, this afternoon. She went there alone, after +loitering for an hour through the shops of F Street. In the train-shed +she chanced, seemingly by the veriest accident, upon Snodgrass. He +almost bumped into her as they rounded the news-stand. From their gaiety +they are old acquaintances; and after a word he turned and accompanied +her 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 he +managed 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. They +are 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 has +walked up Sixteenth Street frequently since four o'clock, and never once +glanced 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 with +Jimmy-the-Snake--a professional burglar of the best class. We are +watching The Snake, of course. Something will be done at the French +Embassy tonight, I imagine. Finally, at nine o'clock, Marston went to +Carpenter's residence and was admitted. He came out fifteen minutes +later, and returned to the Chateau. I assume that Carpenter will tell +you of this errand." + +Harleston nodded. + +"What shall be done as to Snodgrass--also as to Mrs. Spencer and one +o'clock tomorrow?" Ranleigh asked. "Do you wish me to prevent the +meeting?" + +"No," said Harleston, after a little consideration; "simply keep them in +view and follow them. I can't imagine Snodgrass being concerned in this +affair. It's the lady he's after, not her mission. It's likely he +doesn't even know she's in the Secret Service. However, keep an eye on +them; I may be mistaken." + +The telephone buzzed. Ranleigh answered, then passed the instrument +across to Harleston. + +"Is that you, Harleston?... This is Carpenter. I've just had a most +amazing proposition made to me. It will keep until morning, but drop +around 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--and +presto! There's small trick about that, old fox--except in knowing your +quarry. So long--and don't!" + +"If you don't mind, Carpenter, I'll stop on my way home. I'm just +beginning 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 I +imagine they are about to make a get-away with the goods." + +"Try to, Ranleigh, try to," Harleston amended. "They won't make a +get-away so long as we have Madame Spencer in our midst. Keep your eye +on the dark-haired loveliness; with her in the landscape the goods are +still here. Now for Carpenter." + +"Permit me to suggest a taxi!" Ranleigh observed. "It's just as well +that you shouldn't wander about alone on the well-lighted streets of the +National Capital--" + +"You think I might be suspended by the Interstate Commerce Commission, +or enjoined by the Federal Trades Commission, or be violating the +Clayton Anti-Trust Act?" + +"You might be any and all of them, God knows--as well as contrary to +some paternal act of a non-thinking, theoretical, and subservient +Congress. 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'd +better have this with you also," taking a small automatic from a drawer +of 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 on +the front piazza. + +"Your friend Marston is a very pleasant chap," he remarked; "also he has +a most astonishing nerve. He actually tried to bribe me for a copy of +the Clephane letter." + +"How did you meet it?" Harleston asked. + +"I was at a loss how to meet it--whether to be indignant and order him +out, or to be acquiescently non-committal. I chose the latter course; +and after a few preliminary feelers he came out with his offer: five +thousand dollars for liberty to make a copy of the original letter. I +thought a moment, then came back at him with the counter proposition: if +he would secure the key-word from the French Embassy, I would obtain the +letter; 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 offer +by a solemn assurance that the United States was not involved!" + +"Delightful!" said Harleston again. "I reckon you've seen the last of +Marston." + +"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 strictly +professional. 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 he +will submit it for a test with the letter. He knows his attempt to bribe +me failed, and that the only way he can have access to the letter is to +come with the key-word. And you need not fear that I shall let him copy +the 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, an +ex-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 Second +Secretary--if that's any indication." + +"Rather the reverse, I should say. However, he met Madeline Spencer +yesterday in Union Station. The meeting was apparently accidental, and +so far as his shadow could see or hear was entirely innocent." + +"I distrust the apparently accidental and the entirely innocent--in +diplomacy," Carpenter remarked. "We should keep an eye on Snodgrass." + +"Meanwhile what are _you_ doing as to the French key-word--trying for +it?" Harleston asked, going toward the door. + +Carpenter nodded. "I've got my lines out. I hope to land it in a few +days. 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 obligated +to Ranleigh to go in a taxi. The one in which he had come from +Headquarters he had dismissed, not knowing how long he would be at +Carpenter's, and he had neglected to telephone for another. He would not +go back to Carpenter's; and, anyway, it was nonsense always to be +guarding himself from the enemy. + +He had not a thing they wanted, nor did he know aught that would be of +use to them; and his directorship of the affair was not of great +importance; another, if he knew the facts, could take his place and see +the matter through. That was the important point, however. Time was +exceedingly material; and if the Spencer gang caused him to disappear +for a few days, they would have a free hand until Ranleigh or Carpenter +awoke to the situation. It was not exactly just to the cause for him to +take unnecessary chances. A drug store was but a short distance up the +street, 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 the +corner and bore his way. + +He raised his stick to the driver, in event of him being free--and +stepped out from the sidewalk. + +The man shook his head in negation and the machine flashed by--leaving +Harleston staring after it with a somewhat surprised and very much +puzzled frown. + +Madeline Spencer was in the taxi--alone. Furthermore, she had not seen +him. + + + + +XVIII + +DOUBT + + +At N, the next cross-street, the taxi turned west. Instantly Harleston +made for the corner. When he got there, the machine was swinging north +into 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 any +one on the street as far as Dupont Circle; and as thoroughfares radiate +from the Circle as the spokes of a wheel from the hub, the taxi could +have gone in practically any direction. + +So he gave over running--running after a taxi-cab was not in his +line--and resumed his walk northward. At Dupont Circle he found a lone +cab 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 you +see a taxi, get close to it." + +"I'll do hit, seh, yass seh!" said the negro, as he climbed on the box +and jerked the lines. + +But though they went out the avenue to beyond Sheridan Circle, and back +again, and along the streets north of P and west of Twentieth, no taxi +was seen--nor any trace of Madeline Spencer. They drove over the route +for more than an hour--and never raised a yellow taxi nor a skirt. +Finally Harleston abandoned the search and headed the cab for the +Collingwood. + +Miss Williams was on duty when he entered, and she signalled him to the +desk. + +"The Chateau has been trying to get you for the last half-hour," said +she. "Shall I call them?" + +"If you please," he replied, "I'll wait here." + +Presently she nodded to Harleston; he stepped into the booth and closed +the door. + +"This is Mr. Harleston," said he. + +"I recognize your voice, Guy, dear," came Madeline Spencer's soft +tones. "I'd know it _anywhere_, indeed." + +"The same to you, my lady," Harleston returned. "Was that what you were +calling me for?" + +"No, no!" she laughed. "I just wanted to tell you that I'm back at the +Chateau. I thought you might be interested, you know; you sprinted so +rapidly up N Street, and spent so much time driving around in a cab +searching for me, that I assume it will be a very great relief to you to +know that I am returned. It was such a satisfaction, Guy, to feel that +you were so solicitous for my safety, and I appreciate it, my dear, I +appreciate it. Meanwhile, you might wish to get busy as to my _alter +ego_. I saw her going up Sixteenth Street, as I was returning--a little +after eleven o'clock. Maybe _she_ needs assistance, Guy; you never can +tell. See you tomorrow, old enemy. Good-bye for tonight." + +"I say--are you there, Madeline?" Harleston ejaculated; then asked +again. When no one answered he hung up the receiver and came from the +booth. Spencer, that time, had put one over him; two, maybe, for he +_was_ concerned about Mrs. Clephane. Spencer had gone without her +shadow, been free to transact her business, and returned--and all the +time she knew of passing him and his pursuit of her, and was enjoying +his discomfiture. To add a trifle more uneasiness, she had thrown in the +matter of Mrs. Clephane. Probably it was false; yet he could not be sure +and it troubled him. All of which, he was aware, Mrs. Spencer +intended--and took a devilish joy in doing. + +Harleston made a couple of turns up and down the room; then he sat down +and drummed a bit on the table; finally he reached for the telephone. It +was very late, but he would call her--she would understand. + +He got the Chateau and, giving his name, asked whether Mrs. Clephane was +on the first floor of the hotel. In a few minutes the answer came: she +was not; should they give him her apartment? He said yes. Presently a +sleepy voice answered. He recognized it as Marie--the maid--and had some +difficulty in convincing her of his identity. He did it at last only by +speaking French to her--which, as he had hitherto addressed her only in +French, was not extraordinary. + +And, being convinced, she answered promptly enough that Mrs. Clephane +was not in--she had gone down-stairs about two hours ago telling her not +to wait up. She had no idea where Mrs. Clephane went; she had said +nothing about leaving the hotel. + +"Ask her to call me at the Collingwood the moment she comes in," said +Harleston. + +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 stay +with her and keep her from rash adventures," Ranleigh commented. + +"I quite agree with you," said Harleston. "Meanwhile I might inquire +where 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," Ranleigh +replied. "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. "She +hasn't a thing they want." + +"Granted; yet where is she? moreover, she promised me to do nothing +unusual 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't +appeared by nine o'clock, I'll telephone you." + +Harleston leaned back in his chair frowning. Washington was not a large +city, yet under certain circumstances she could be lost in it--and stay +lost, 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 plans +nor hinder them; she was purely a negative quantity. Spencer might be +striking at him through Mrs. Clephane, intending to hold her surety for +his 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 one +to waste time in methods, petty or inefficient. Of course, it might be +that she had merely twitted him about the episode, as a jealous woman +would do. + +And yet what could have taken Mrs. Clephane from the hotel at such an +hour, and without apprising her maid; and why was she driving up +Sixteenth Street? Or was Spencer's talk just a lie; intended to throw a +scare into him and give him a bad quarter of an hour--until he would +venture 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 and +whatever her idea Madeline Spencer had succeeded in disturbing him to an +unusual degree--and all because of Mrs. Clephane. + +At last he sprang up, threw on a light top-coat, grabbed a hat, and made +for the door. He would go down to the Chateau and investigate. Anything +was preferable to this miserable waiting. + +The corridor door was swinging shut behind him, when his telephone +buzzed. 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, "that +I'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's +rather interesting as to details. By the way, you must be sitting beside +the receiver expecting a call; you answered with such amazing +promptness!" and she laughed softly. "Shall I expect you at eleven, or +will 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 the +Chateau for you at half-after-three; you can give me the details then. I +shall 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 a 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--and +Harleston's grin almost flowed into the transmitter. + +"It is indeed!" he responded--then severely: "Where have you been, my +lady? 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 sure +will 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 you +are 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 the +morning--and Madame Brunette's doings. Good-night, _Mon camarade_." + + + + +XIX + +MARSTON + + +At nine o'clock the next morning, Marston tapped gently on the door of +Madeline Spencer's apartment, and was immediately admitted by the demure +maid; who greeted him with a smile, which he repaid with a kiss--several +of them, indeed--and an affectionate and pressing arm to her shapely and +slender waist. + +"I suppose monsieur wants to see my mistress," said she. + +"Now that I've seen you, yes, little one," Marston returned, with +another kiss. + +"Have you seen me, monsieur?" + +"Not half long enough, my love; but business before pleasure. There's +another now, so run along and do your devoir." + +She fetched him a tiny slap across his cheek, for which she was caught +and made to suffer again; then she wriggled loose, and, with a flirty +backward kick at him, disappeared through the inner doorway. + +In a moment she returned, dropped him a bit of curtsy, and informed him +that her mistress would receive him. + +He rewarded her with another caress, which she accepted with assumed +shyness--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 he +entered the boudoir. She was sitting up in bed, eating her rolls and +coffee--a bewildering negligee of cerise and cream heightening the +effect 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 the +effect of your wonderful personality." + +"My good Marston!" she smiled. "What a faithful friend you are; always +seeing my few good points and being blind to my many bad." + +"And being always," he added, bowing low, "your most humble and loving +servant." + +"I know it--and I am very, very grateful." She put aside the tray and +languidly stretched her lithe length under the sheet. "What have you to +report, Marston?" she asked. + +"I have to report, madame," said Marston, with strict formality of a +subordinate to his chief, "that I have procured the French code-book." + +"Good work!" she exclaimed, sitting up sharply. "However did you manage +it?" + +"By the assistance of one Jimmy-the-Snake. He visited the French Embassy +last night, and persuaded the safe to yield up the code. It would have +been better, I admit, to copy the code and then replace it, but it +wasn't possible. He had just sufficient time to grab the book and make a +get-away. Someone was coming." + +"You've accomplished enough even though we don't obtain the letter" she +approved. "I shall recommend you for promotion, Marston." + +She took the thin book and glanced through it until she came to the +key-words of the Blocked-Out Square--the last key-word was the one the +Count de M---- had given her. After all, the Count was not so bad; and +he was handsome; thus far dependable; and he was, seemingly at least, in +love with her. She might do worse.... Yet he was not Harleston; there +never was but one equal to Harleston, and that one was lost to her. She +shut her lips tightly and a far-away look came into her eyes. And now +Harleston, too, was lost to her; and--she lifted her hands resignedly, +and laughed a mirthless laugh. As she came back to reality, she met +Marston's curiously courteous glance with a bit of a shrug. + +"Pardon my momentary abstraction," she said softly; "I was pursuing a +train of thought--" + +"And you didn't overtake it," he remarked. + +"I can never overtake it. I haven't the requisite speed. Did you ever +miss your two greatest opportunities, Marston?" + +"I've missed my greatest," Marston replied instantly. "Oh--it was out of +my class, so I never started." + +"It may have been a mistake, my friend," she observed; "one never can +tell until he's tried it--and failed. I mightn't have missed had I gone +on another schedule. However, the past is to profit by, and to forget +if we can't remember it pleasantly. So let us return to the business in +hand, Marston; it's a rattling business and a fascinating, and at it you +and I are not to be altogether despised," throwing him a bewitching +smile. + +"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, and +bowed again. "By all means let us to the business in hand." + +He understood her nature better than she thought. The sympathy in her +was, for the moment, real enough, but it was only for the moment; the +love of admiration was the controlling note--what she sought and what +she played for. She felt the sympathy while it lasted, but it was the +effect as to herself, the selfish effect, that inspired the sensation. +When a beautiful woman stoops to sympathy, it is rare indeed that she +does not thereby arouse admiration for herself. Madeline Spencer may +have been cold and shrewd and selfish and calculating, yet with it all +she was warm-hearted; but the warm heart never got away with the cool +head--unless it was with that head's permission and for its benefit. She +played men--and men played her--but the man that had won was not yet to +be found. Two only of those whom she tried had failed to succumb to her +fascinating alluringness--and these two she had loved, and still did +both love and hate. + +"Returning then to the code-book and the letter," said she. "How about +the latter; have you found Carpenter susceptible to persuasion?" + +"To persuasion, no; to exchange, yes. Our agreement is that if I provide +the key-word, he will provide the letter in question. At ten o'clock +this morning the trick is to be turned." + +"And if the translation concerns the United States, he simply would turn +the 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: _a 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 replied +slowly, "but it does not, however, reach quite to the last conclusion. I +may not explain now, Marston. Do you go to the meeting, with the +code-book as your only exhibit. It should be indisputable proof of your +good faith, and our honest belief that the letter does not concern the +United States. Moreover, you run no danger of imprisonment, for you'll +not effect a translation. But you must obtain a copy of the letter; it's +but a fair exchange for the French code, you know; and you're +permitted--nay you're authorized, in the interest of the service--to +allow Carpenter to copy the book if he will give you the letter to copy. +Furthermore, you may proceed leisurely in the process; there is no +particular haste; while they are occupied with the letter matter, there +is apt to be less activity along other lines. Only get a _copy of the +letter_; 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 is +up to you to procure the letter; I'll do the rest, if any rest is +necessary. We may be headed for Europe by evening, Marston; in which +event, 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," he +answered. It was much as a faithful dog would wag his tail and snuggle +up for a pat of the hand. + +She smiled straight into his eyes--a frank, appreciative smile, as +though an intimate camaraderie existed between them, and would never be +violated by either. She would have been in danger had she smiled that +way at some men; they would not have remained quiescent. And a little +more aggression by Marston might have been more conducive for +success--less of the faithful dog and more of the independent +subordinate 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 must +dress, and you're rather _de trop_ at such a time, however much you may +be 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, you +know. I've an appointment at one, and another at four, but I'll be here +at seven. If I'm detained, wait." + +When Marston had gone she turned over and composed herself for sleep--it +was two hours until she had need to array herself for luncheon and +Snodgrass.... Yes, Snodgrass was a very good-looking chap; her drive +with him last night had been very satisfactory; he had the requisite +wealth, so it might be just as well to let him become fascinated. It +would be at least a momentary diversion; something to occupy her for the +loss 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 she +would try it. If it failed, she would not lose more than she had already +lost. 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 the +Collingwood, the Cosmopolitan Club, or the State Department." + +"I'll call you," said the operator--and Madeline Spencer leaned back in +her chair and waited. + +Presently the call came. + +"I have Mr. Harleston for you," said the operator and switched on the +trunk. + +"Where are you, Guy?--this is Madeline Spencer," said she. + +"I'm at the Collingwood, Madeline. Anything I can do for you?" was the +answer. + +"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 to +effects. Her gown was a lustreless black silk, trimmed with gold and +made as plain as her modiste would--and the styles permitted. Her hair +was piled high, with an elongated twist; her dead-white complexion was +unmarred by powder or rouge, and beneath the transparent skin the blood +pulsed softly pink. + +Her toilet finished, and passed upon in the mirror, she sent her maid on +a shopping expedition which would occupy her until noon, and even +hurried her off. She wanted no one about, not even Elise, when she made +her last play at Harleston. + +Elise gone five minutes before the hour, she compelled herself to +outward tranquillity--while she strove for inward calm. And succeeding +wonderfully well--so well, indeed, that none would ever have suspected +the agitation seething under the cold placidity. Its only evidence was +in the gentle swing of her narrow foot, and the nervous play of her +slender fingers. And even these indications disappeared at the knock on +the corridor door; and she went almost blithely and flung it back--to +Harleston bowing on the threshold. + +"Punctual as usual!" she greeted. + +"Because I came to one who is always punctual," he replied, taking her +hand, nor dropping it until they were well inside the reception room. + +"Sit down, old enemy," said she, sinking into a chair and pointing to +another--which she had been careful to place just within reach. "You've +nothing much to do for a short while, have you?" + +"I've nothing much to do any time except to keep an eye on you!" he +laughed. + +"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 on +her hand, her eyes on him. + +"The only difficulty is that you are too alluring," he returned. "One is +prone to forget that his business is not to admire but to observe +dispassionately and to block your plans. You're much too beautiful, +Madeline; you usually make monkeys of all of us, and while we're held +fascinated by your loveliness you scoop the prize. It's not fair, my +lady; you play with--loaded dice." + +"Flatterer!" she said, melting into another pose. + +"Flatterer!" he exclaimed. "If you could but see yourself now, you would +confess the truth of the indictment. You're the loveliest thing, and you +grow 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, even +more alluring. + +"You know I mean it," he declared. "Haven't we agreed to be honest with +each 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 blew +the smoke sharply against the incandescent coal. + +"Guy," said she, "I'm about to speak plainly; please don't +misunderstand; I'm simply a woman, now--a weak woman, perhaps; it will +be for you to judge me at the end." She smiled faintly. + +"Not a weak woman, Madeline," he replied. "Your worst enemy would not +venture to call you that." + +He wondered what more was coming, and at what directed. Her tone and +attitude and deprecation of self were new to him. He had never seen her +so; always she was the embodification of calm, self-reliance, poise, +never flustered, never disturbed. A weak woman! It was so absurd as to +be ridiculous, and she was aware of it. So what was the play with so +bald a notice to beware? + +"No, no, Guy," said she. "You think it's a play, but it isn't. It's the +simple 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 ever +mystified. + +She carefully laid her cigarette on the receiver, then arose and leaned +against the table, her hands behind her. He arose also, but she +declined the courtesy. + +"Keep your seat," she said, "and don't be alarmed, I'm not preparing to +have you daggered or garroted. Entirely the reverse, Guy. I've decided +to offer terms: to capitulate; to throw the whole thing over; to betray +my mission and get out of the service forever. No, don't smile +incredulously, 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? Madeline +Spencer, the very Queen of the Service, betray her trust? Impossible!" + +"Thank you, Guy," said she. "I've never yet been false to the hand that +paid me--and sometimes _I've_ paid dearly for keeping faith. Now for the +first time,--and the last time, too, for if successful the service will +know me no longer--I am ready and willing deliberately to make a failure +of my mission, if you will take that failure as conclusive evidence of +my good faith." She bent a bit forward and threw into her words and +tones and attitude every grace that she possessed. "Will you do it, +Guy?" + +"When you ask that way," said Harleston, "who of mankind would refuse +you anything on earth." + +She was alluring, wonderfully alluring. Time was, and that lately, when +he would have succumbed. But that time was no longer; beside the +raven-hair and dead-white cheek was now another face, with peach-blow +cheek and the ruddy tresses--and the peach-blow cheek and ruddy tresses +prevailed. And so he had responded, sincere enough, in tribute to her +loveliness and in memory of what had been. + +And Madeline Spencer detected the absent note; but she ignored it. She +would go through with it--make her bid: + +"Almost you say that as though you meant it!" she smiled, and forced his +hand. Now he must either deny or affirm. + +"I do mean it," he replied. It was all in the game, and he was obligated +to 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 afford +him an inkling of her aim. Assuredly she had him guessing. + +For a moment she looked him straight in the eyes; then suddenly her +glance wavered, a faint flush crept from neck to cheek, and she smiled +almost bashfully. + +"Guy," said she, "I ask you to forget our profession if you can, and +take what I am about to say as free from guile or expediency--and of +supreme importance to me. I'm just a simple woman now, with a woman's +desires 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're +willing. 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 in +the future." + +"Upon what condition, Madeline?" he smiled, more puzzled than ever. He +was almost ready to believe she meant it. + +She caught her breath, hesitated, blushed furiously--and answered +softly: + +"Upon the condition that you marry me." + +For the instant Harleston was too amazed for words; and, despite all his +training in dissimulation, his surprise was evidenced in his face. Small +wonder he had been unable to make out the play--it was not a play; she +meant it. She was ready to throw her mission overboard to attain her +personal end. + +"Will you marry me, old enemy?" she whispered, putting out her hand to +him and smiting him with a ravishing smile--a smile such as she had had +for but one other man. It had been utterly lost on that other, but it +had almost won with Harleston; and it might have won now with him but +for another's smile, she of the ruddy tresses and peach-blow cheek. + +"My dear Madeline," said he slowly, holding her hand with intimate +pressure, "I cannot permit you to betray yourself for me. You are--" + +"Quite old enough in the ways of the world," she interjected, "to know +my 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 anything +be permitted to intervene?" Her hand still lay in his; her eyes held +his; her personality fairly enveloped them. With lips a little parted, +she bent toward him. "It's a bit unusual, dear, for the woman to +propose, to the man, but we are an unusual two, and the business of life +has shaken us free from the conventions of the drawing-room and frothy +society. 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 to +sacrifice yourself," he opposed. "There is a standard which neither cant +nor pretence nor false modesty can affect--the standard of honour." + +"Honour!" she inflected. "What is honour, such honour, when a woman +loves." + +"Nothing--and therefore must the love abide; honour can't abide once it +is lost." + +She shook her head sadly. "I'm afraid it's not so much my honour as your +love," she said. "A week ago, and I would have had a different +answer--in fact, I would have been the one to answer and _you_ the one +to ask. You know it quite as well as I; for when you left me that +afternoon in Paris, expecting to return in the evening, you were ready +to speak and I was ready with the answer. Then fate, in the person of an +unsympathetic Foreign Office intervened, and sent you on the instant to +St. Petersburg. We never met again until in this hotel. I have not +changed, but you have. I fear your answer does not ring quite true; it +isn'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 her +presence. + +"Madeline," said he, lingeringly freeing her hand, "I hardly know what +to say nor how to say it. I'm embarrassed, frightfully embarrassed; yet +you have been frank with me so I must be frank with you--even though it +hurts. I'm distressed to have been such a bungler, such a miserable +bungler, such a blind fool, indeed. The false impression must be due to +me; assuredly, without the most justifiable cause you would not have +drawn the erroneous inference. And a man who is responsible for that +inference with a woman of your experience and ability, Madeline, must +be more or less a fool, even though his intentions have been absolutely +correct." + +"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 us +forget this little talk, and go on as though it hadn't occurred--playing +our parts in the present game and besting the other by every means in +our power. I can't accept your offer, because I cannot pay the +consideration. It still must be _a outrance_ with us, Madeline; no +quarter 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 asked +mockingly; "or is Mrs. Clephane's character whiter than mine?" + +"That is not worthy of you, Madeline," Harleston reproved. "You're a +good sport; hitherto you've taken the count, as well as given it, +without the flutter of an eyelash--and over far more serious matters +than your humble servant, who hasn't anything to give him value." + +Again the sarcastic laugh. She knew he was playing the game, two games +indeed, the diplomatic and his own. He had never forgot himself nor +regarded 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 convincing +yourself. And when you--a man--do that, what is to be expected of a +woman--who is alone in the world? So I must accept your argument, and +your conclusions, and be content with my duty--and"--with a sudden +ravishing smile--"if I best you, Guy, you will have only yourself to +blame. I won't send Mrs. Clephane a present, nor will I wish you joy of +her, nor her of you; but _you_ won't look for it, and _she_ would think +it somewhat presumptuous in me to assume to know you. These red-headed +women are the very devil, Guy, after they've got you landed--also +before, but in a different way." + +"What's your game, Madeline?" he smiled. It had pleased her suddenly to +veer 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 fine +acting 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 the +extremely 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 an +intelligible 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 door +closed behind him. "I've no chance, it seems, against a red-haired +woman. The other one also had red hair." She seized a vase from the +table at her hand, and hurled it across the room. It crushed in +fragments 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 sent +in his card. + +It found Carpenter pacing up and down, and frowning at a paper spread +open on his desk. At the messenger's apologetically discreet cough, he +glanced around and took the extended card. + +"Show him in!" he snapped, and swept the paper from the desk and into a +drawer.... "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, I +believe," he remarked. + +"H-u-m!" said Carpenter thoughtfully, retrieving the paper he had just +swept into the drawer. "How are we to work it, Mr. Marston?" + +"As allies," Marston replied. "I'm perfectly willing to let you have the +book 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 the +letter does not involve, either directly or indirectly, the United +States. I understand that the letter is in the cipher of the Blocked-Out +Square; in this book there are two pages and more of key-words to this +Square, the last dozen or so of which are added in writing. If the +letter is in that cipher, we should have no particular difficulty in +finding the key-word. I would suggest, however, that we first try the +last 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 a +line and that he could remember the letters used, he was in for a shock. +No man living could remember twenty spilled alphabets; and if he +attempted to make a copy it could easily be prevented. The Fifth +Secretary spread the paper on the table. + +"Here is a copy of the cipher letter in question--we had it made large +for convenience," he explained. "The original is in the safe; you'll wish +to compare it with the copy, so we'll have it here." + +He gave the necessary order; when the letter was brought he passed it to +Marston. + +"I'll read the copy, if you'll hold the original," he said; and +proceeded to call off the letters with amazing rapidity. "Correct, isn't +it?" as he ended. + +"Yes!" said Marston returning the original to Carpenter. He wanted in +every way to disarm suspicion; moreover, a copy could be made more +readily from a large typewritten edition than from the small, written +original. "Now for the code-book and the last key-word--_a l'aube du +jour_, I think it is ... yes, _a l'aube du jour_, it is," and he handed +the 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 that +he had already tried _a 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 the +word, and the slip that Harleston had taken from Crenshaw's pocket-book +confirmed it. _A l'aube du jour_ was not the key-word but the key-word +was constructed from it by some arbitrary rule; and that rule was +susceptible of solution. After he was free of this fellow Marston, he +would solve the problem quickly enough. It was as sure as tomorrow. The +prescience 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, scarcely +without 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 of +AGELUMTONZN, and so forth." + +"I can't!" Carpenter smiled--and waited. Would Marston suggest the +transposed or elided word? + +"I'm disappointed," Marston confessed, "I thought sure we had it. Let's +try the next key-word in the book." + +They tried it, and the next, and all the rest. None of them translated +the letter. + +It took more than an hour; at the end, as a full measure of good faith +and because it was of no further use to him--he having preserved a +copy--Marston insisted that Carpenter retain the original of the French +code-book and have a copy made, after which the book could be returned +to him at the Chateau. During this hour and more his hand was in and out +in his side coat-pocket. When he left the room there went with him, in +that pocket, a copy of the original letter--roughly made by the sense of +touch alone, yet none the less a copy and sufficiently distinct to be +decipherable. For years Marston had practised writing in the dark and +under all sorts of handicaps. In his pocket, a number of small slips of +paper and a pencil were concealed. He would write a line, then take his +hand 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 not +the slightest intent to obtaining a copy--even tearing up the paper on +which were the various trial translations--that he completely deceived +Carpenter. When he left, the latter went with him to the elevator and +bowed him down. + +"I don't quite understand their game," Carpenter chuckled, as he turned +away, "but it's no matter. I took all the tricks this morning and still +have a few trumps left. I thought he certainly would try for a copy of +the letter, but he didn't even attempt it. He may have committed it to +memory, but I'll chance it." + +Returning to his office he gave the code-book another careful inspection +and confirmed his impression as to its being authentic. Then he laid it +aside, and took up the letter and _a l'aube du jour_! + +First he tried it in reverse position: _ruoj ud ebua'l a_. The +translation was gibberish. Then he wrote the first and last letters, the +second 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, 'a' and +tried the rest--still gibberish. He dropped also the 'l'--still +gibberish. Then, in turn, the 'a' of the third word the 'd' of the +fourth, the 'j' of the last word--all gibberish. Next he wrote the +key-word entire but transposed the 'a' from the first letter to the +last--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; the +code-book, Crenshaw's slip of paper, and his own hunch were convincing, +yet the combination was slow in coming. + +_Du jour a l'aube_ was the next arrangement. He wrote it under the +printed 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 C +yielded E; the O and the D yielded R; the U and the E yielded T; the R +and the F yielded I. + +"_Averti!_" + +Carpenter gave a soft whistle of satisfaction. French, it was--his hunch +had not deceived him. The key-word was found! + +Swiftly he worked out the rest of the cipher, setting down the letters +of the translation without regard to words. "_Averti_" was evident +because 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 three +words, as well as the first, proved it; also that he had the correct +key-word. It only remained now to separate the result into words. And +this puzzle presented no difficulties to Carpenter; he quickly +marshalled it into form: + +"_Averti que l'Allemagne a engage un officier a deceler la formule +secrete des Etats-Unis employee a collodonnier la fulmi-coton pour la +poudre sans fumeee a l'artillerie de gros calibre; et que Madeline +Spencer, emissaire de l'Allemagne a Paris,--photographie ci, incluse--a +ete de chargee la recevoir. Ne se peut decouvrir le nom du traitre. +Spencer est partie pour New York sur la Lusitania qui doit arriver le +quatorze. A toute force interceptez la formule; ou empechez a moins que +l'Allemagne ne l'obtienne. Spencer pas importante a la France._" + +And under it he wrote the English translation: "Informed Germany has +induced an officer to betray United States secret formula for colloding +process of treating gun-cotton for smokeless powder for high power guns, +and that Madeline Spencer, a German Secret agent in Paris, photograph +enclosed herein, is delegated to receive same. Cannot ascertain name of +traitor. Spencer sailed Lusitania, due New York, fourteenth. Take any +means 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 was +reluctant 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 whether +it was to be thumbs up or thumbs down for her Alluringness. Furthermore, +the meeting with Snodgrass now assumed much significance. Snodgrass was +an ex-army officer. Harleston must be warned at once. + +He tried for him at the Collingwood, the Cosmopolitan, the Rataplan, and +finally 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 the +translation. 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; he +would 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 of +the F Street elevator, was met by Snodgrass who had been walking up and +down the lobby. They took a taxi and sped away; followed closely by +another taxi, which their driver was most careful not to distance. A +second later Harleston entered the corridor. As he was about to greet +Mrs. Clephane, a man approached him and said: + +"They have started, sir; Burke's just behind in a taxi--and both drivers +are wise. They're bound for the Rataplan." + +"Follow them and wait just outside," Harleston ordered--and turned to +Mrs. Clephane. "I must go to the Rataplan at once," said he. "Let us +lunch there. The end of the affair of the cab of the sleeping horse is +in sight; I thought you might like to see it." + +"I want to see it!" Mrs. Clephane exclaimed. "Have you found the +key-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 Harleston +had 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 actually +delivers," he explained; "he has a confederate. Snodgrass is the +confederate, we think." + +"Is this secret colloding process of gun-cotton so tremendously +valuable?" she asked. + +"It's a secret for which any nation would give millions of dollars. It's +admittedly the most powerful explosive ever discovered, as well as the +easiest handled. Temperature, weather, ordinary shock have absolutely no +effect on it; in fire it simply chars and doesn't explode. Yet when it +is exploded by the proper method, lyddite, dynamite, and all the other +ites, are as a gentle zephyr in comparison. Now tell me about last +night; where were you?" + +"After you left," she explained, "I wrote some letters, and then went +into the corridor to drop them in the chute beside the elevator shaft; +as I approached, the car came down with Mrs. Spencer in it. Something +impelled me to follow her; and running back I grabbed a cloak, and +dashed for the elevator, catching it on the fly. She wasn't in the main +corridor; on a chance, I hurried to the F Street entrance; I got there +just as she stepped into a taxi and shot away. Instantly I called +another taxi and told the driver to follow the car that had just +departed. He did for a little way; but in a sudden halt of traffic at +Vermont Avenue and H Street, where, you may remember, the street is torn +up, we lost the other taxi; and though we drove around the north-west +section for more than an hour on the chance that we'd come up with +it--my driver knew the other driver--we never did come up with it. But +as we rolled up to the Chateau, Mrs. Spencer was alighting from a +limousine with a tall, fine-looking, fair-haired chap who had the walk +of a military man." + +"Snodgrass," Harleston observed. + +"She saw me; and, with a maliciously charming smile, nodded and went +on. In the corridor I came on some friends and we talked awhile. Then I +went 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 the +Club-House. + +He inquired of the doorman whether Mr. Carpenter was in, and another +servant, who overheard the question, added that Mr. Carpenter was in the +dining-room. Harleston and Mrs. Clephane went directly in and to a table +next to Carpenter's. Three tables away were Madeline Spencer and +Snodgrass. + +Harleston nodded to Mrs. Spencer and to Snodgrass, then spoke to +Carpenter 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 same +manner--and went back to his table. + +"Who is the woman with Harleston?" Snodgrass asked Mrs. Spencer. "I've +never 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," he +smiled. "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 quiet +earnestness, leaning toward her across the table. + +She shot him a knowing glance. Last night she had held him to strict +propriety. Today in the taxi she had deliberately set herself to +fascinate him, and had succeeded well. She had been demurely +tantalizing--holding him at a distance, letting him come a little +nearer, bringing him up sharply; all the tricks of the trade executed +with a perfection of technic and a mastery of effect. Snodgrass, with +all his experience, was but a novice in her hands; she always struck +directly at the affections--got them: and then the rest was easy. She +never lost her head, nor allowed her own affections to become involved; +save only twice--and both those times she had failed. Snodgrass, she had +learned through inquiries, had quite sufficient money to make him worth +her while; moreover, he was such a big, good-natured, dependable +chap--and a gentleman. If he had not been a gentleman he would not have +attracted Madeline Spencer for an instant. She dealt only in gentlemen. + +She had not told Snodgrass of the Clephane letter, nor anything as to +Harleston except to refer casually to him as the confidential emissary +in delicate matters of the State Department. She had found that +Snodgrass was not the actual man in the case; that he was simply a +friendly confederate, or rather, to use his own words, "a friend of +Davidson." She had expected that the package or letter would be +delivered to her in the taxi; but Snodgrass had told her as soon as they +were started that Davidson would forward it to him at the Rataplan by +mail, not later than the two o'clock delivery. He would get it as they +were leaving and transfer it to her, accepting the consideration as +specified by Davidson, and receipting for it. He said flatly that he did +not want to know the contents of the letter; he was doing this favour +for Davidson. He understood that it was to be entirely _sub rosa_ and +that nothing must ever transpire as to it. Therefore he was prepared to +forget the entire episode the moment it was over; the epochal meetings +with her he would not forget, nor would he permit her to forget him if +constant devotion and assiduous attention were of avail. To which she +had made a most demurely fitting answer, and the conversation thereafter +grew exceedingly confidential. Oh, they were getting on very well indeed +when the Rataplan was reached. And they were still progressing very +well--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 of +him; 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 Snodgrass +told her his name and position in the Diplomatic Service and that it +was reputed there was no cipher too difficult for him to solve. + +"We would better be very circumspect," she said low. "I think that these +two 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 was +sitting in the lobby. However, if you prefer, I'll let my mail go until +evening." + +"We can decide when we're through luncheon," she replied. "Haste is of +vital importance, my instructions say. I had hoped to get away on the +midnight 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 you +on 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 anything +near it. And even though I were, I'd not permit the wasteful +extravagance." + +She might have added that she had no objection whatever to his wasteful +extravagance, in fact, she would rather encourage it, if she were its +object. Only that must come later--after the present business was +finished, and they had sailed from New York. How long the extravagance +would continue was dependent on the depth of his purse and his +disposition. + +"Wasteful extravagance does not apply where you are concerned," he +replied. "However, we'll let Germany pay the consideration, and I'll +have that much more to spend on you." + +She rewarded him with one of her alluringly ravishing smiles and a touch +of her slender foot. She had him--and she knew she had him. She would +be Madeline Spencer once again--always having a victim, and always ready +for a fresh one. Since she had failed with Harleston, what mattered it +how many the victims, or what the price they paid. + + + + +XXIII + +CAUGHT + + +"Mrs. Spencer and her friend have reached some sort of an +understanding," Mrs. Clephane remarked. "She just smiled at him +significantly 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 has +been arranged, maybe even effected." + +Harleston nodded. With Madeline Spencer it was, he knew, business first +and personal matters afterward. + +"I think we shall see the end of the affair of your cipher letter and +its 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 keep +his hands off, you may believe." + +"You think either that Captain Snodgrass has the document in his +possession, or that he has given it to Mrs. Spencer?" + +"Or that it will come into his possession before they leave the +Rataplan, and be transferred to her here or in the taxi on their way +back 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't +part with it, even in her sleep, until she places it in the hands of the +official 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 the +time she and Snodgrass met at the Chateau this morning, they have not +been out of espionage and close espionage. So long as they are in a +taxi, or at the Rataplan, there is no danger of the document getting +away if either of them has it; but until we are certain that they have +it, we won't detain them; we want the document to aid us in running down +the traitor. I'm not at all sure that Snodgrass is aware of the +character of the document. He probably stipulated not to know; he will +be content with a division of the money--and with a chance to spend some +of it on Spencer; which spending she is quite ready to facilitate, as +witness the pleasant understanding they seem to have arrived at during +luncheon." + +"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!" he +smiled. "Moreover, it depends on circumstances just how it's to be gone +about--except that it ends in the office of the Secretary of +State.--Hush!" + +"The Secretary of State!" she exclaimed low. + +"I've an appointment to take Mrs. Spencer to meet his Excellency at four +o'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 anywhere +with 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 to +you because it's you, Mr. Harleston." + +"Permanently, my lady?" + +"Certainly not, sir. I refer only to this afternoon; I want to be in at +the 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, nodded +pleasantly 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 intimate +little look at Harleston, said confidentially: + +"I'll be ready at half-past three, Guy." + +"Very good!" Harleston answered promptly--when she was past, he looked +at Mrs. Clephane. + +"The cat!" she muttered; then smiled quizzically. "Such a pleasant air +of proprietorship," she observed. + +"Too pleasant," he returned. "I've something to tell you as to it and +her, when the present matter is ended." + +"Will it keep?" + +He nodded. "I can tell it better then--and have more time for the +telling." + +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 man +replied. "He received a small letter, which he opened; it enclosed only +another envelope, which he put in his pocket without opening. He +returned 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 you +shortly. 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 your +care. _A bientot._" + +He hurried out. A taxi, waiting with power on, sped up; he sprang +aboard and it raced away. + +As it neared the Connecticut Avenue bridge, the taxi slowed down a +trifle 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 and +around Dupont Circle to Massachusetts Avenue, thence by it and Sixteenth +Street to H. The one in the lead continued on toward Fourteenth. +Harleston's shot down Fifteenth, flashed over the tracks at Pennsylvania +Avenue, swung into F Street, and drew in at the Chateau just as the +other came around the Fourteenth Street corner, and rolled slowly up to +the curb. + +As Snodgrass was assisting Madeline Spencer to alight--and taking his +time about it--Harleston glanced at his watch, sprang from his car, and +hastened over. + +"This is fortunate, Mrs. Spencer!" he exclaimed. "Just after you left +the Rataplan the Secretary of State telephoned that he was summoned to +the White House at four, and I should bring you an hour earlier. On the +chance of overtaking you, I beat it after you. Now if Captain Snodgrass +will permit you, we have just time to get over to the Department." + +"Will you excuse me, Captain Snodgrass?" she asked, with her compelling +smile. + +"A Secretary of State may not be denied," Snodgrass replied. "In this +instance 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 is +correct." + +"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 very +winning 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 ever +registered." + +"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," she +retorted. + +"We are fellow diplomats," he countered. "You did me a good turn in the +Du Plesis affair; I'm trying now to show my appreciation. Moreover, it +will give Snodgrass an opportunity to reflect on your beauty and +fascinating ways--and to look forward to eight o'clock." + +"It is pleasant to have something agreeable to look forward to," she +replied, ironically suggestive. + +"Isn't it?" he approved. "I don't know anything more pleasant--unless it +is 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 inward +chuckle. + +There was no occasion to explain that, by the latter premises, he meant +herself. His whole scheme was dependent on her having the traitorous +letter in her possession. He was quite sure Snodgrass had received it by +mail at the Rataplan; and why had he put the unopened envelope in his +pocket 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 had +hurried her off to the State Department, she must still have it. Of +course, there was the possibility that Snodgrass had not yet delivered +it; so Snodgrass was being looked after by others. + +"Won't you give me a line on his Excellency, Guy?" she asked. "Is he +easy, 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 Seventeenth +Street side of an atrociously ugly, and miserably inadequate building +that partially houses three Departments of the great American +Government. + +"Am I to be left alone with the great one?" she asked, as they went up +the 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 negro +messenger was waiting at the door of the reception room and he bowed to +the floor--a portion of the bow was for Harleston, but by far the +larger portion was for Madeline Spencer. + +"De Sec'eta'y, seh, am waiting for you all at onct, Mars Ha'lison," he +said; and ushering them across the big room to the Secretary's private +office he swung back the heavy door and bowed them into the Presence. + +As she passed the threshold, Mrs. Spencer caught her breath sharply, and +straightened her shoulders just a trifle. She saw where she stood, and +what was coming. Very well--she would defeat them yet. + + + + +XXIV + +THE CANDLE FLAME + + +The Secretary was standing by the window; with him were Mrs. Clephane +and Carpenter. + +"How do you do, Mrs. Spencer!" he said, without waiting for the formal +presentation. + +She dropped him--Continental fashion--a bit of curtsy and offered him +her slender fingers; which, as well as the rest of her hand, he took and +held. Its shapeliness together with her beauty of face and figure were +instantly swept up by his appraising glance. + +"Your Excellency is very gracious!" she murmured bestowing on him a look +that fairly dizzied him. + +Small wonder, he thought, that she was reputed the most fascinating and +loveliest secret agent in Europe--and the most dangerous to the other +party involved; it would be a rare man, indeed, who could withstand such +charms, to say nothing of the alluring and appealing ways that must go +with them. If he only might try them--just to test his own fine power +of resistance and adamantine will! He shot a quick glance of suppressed +irritation at Harleston--and Madeline Spencer saw it and smiled, turning +the smile toward Harleston. + +"I know what you are about to do," the smile said. "Now do it if you +can. You were afraid to trust me alone with this man; you knew how easy +he would be for me. Proceed with your game, Mr. Harleston--and play it +out." + +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 dazzling +than 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 without +so 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 days +ago, I thought that it was merely to enable an insignificant woman to +say that she had met a great dignitary and famous man. I think so no +longer. It has assumed an international significance. I am here not as +plain Madeline Spencer but as Madeline Spencer of the German Secret +Service. It seems that a certain letter intended for the French +Ambassador has gone astray, and has come into your possession; therefore +I am to be asked to explain the matter, though I've never seen the +letter nor know the cipher in which, I am told by Mr. Harleston, it is +written. So what is it you would of me, your Excellency?" + +"My dear Madame Spencer," said the Secretary, "what you say as to the +original reason for this little meeting, arranged by our mutual friend, +Mr. Harleston, is absolutely correct--except that it was a mere man who +was desirous of being presented to a beautiful and a famous woman. It +seems, however, that certain circumstances have suddenly arisen that +made 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 rather +America, would of me?" + +"The letter you have in your possession," said Harleston. + +"The letter!" she marvelled. "Why, Mr. Harleston, you know quite well +that I never had the Clephane letter." + +"Very true; we have the Clephane letter, as you style it; and we have +also a _translation_. What we want from you is the letter that Captain +Snodgrass took from his mail box at the Rataplan this afternoon, and +gave 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 the +table and play them open." + +"Double dummy, by all means!" she laughed, perching her lithe length on +the 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 at +one o'clock at the Rataplan. Your man Marston, when he visited Mr. +Carpenter this morning, managed inadvertently to furnish the key-word of +the Clephane letter. Do you see whither your meeting with Snodgrass, an +ex-officer of the Army, in view of the translation of the letter leads, +Madeline? Marston, I might remark, was quickly apprehended; if he made a +copy of the letter, he had no opportunity to use it. Well, you went to +the Rataplan with Snodgrass--every movement you two made, from the time +you joined Snodgrass at the Chateau until I myself put you in my cab +when you returned to the hotel, was observed by numerous and competent +shadows. We were convinced that you were to receive the formula--" + +"What formula, Guy?" + +"The formula mentioned in the Clephane letter," he explained; "which +formula you received from Snodgrass during the ride back from the +Rataplan to the Chateau. He received it there by post, and got it from +his box as you were leaving. He even was foolish enough to open the +original envelope, and to put the one enclosed, unopened in his pocket. +You immediately took a taxi for the Chateau. My taxi was close behind +yours; and I caught you as you were alighting and hurried you off to--" + +"This pleasant appointment!" she laughed. "I suppose, Guy, you want the +envelope and contents--which you assume Captain Snodgrass transferred to +me in the taxi; _n'est-ce pas?_" + +"Exactly, Madeline." + +"And it's three strong men and one woman against poor me," she +shrugged--"unless Mrs. Clephane is merely a disinterested spectator." + +"I am always interested in what Mr. Harleston does," Edith replied +sweetly. + +"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 this +formulaic letter, that you think I have, will end it, I am sorry indeed +to disappoint you. I haven't that letter, nor do I know anything as to +it." + +"In that event you have the consideration which you were to pay for the +letter," Harleston returned. + +"My dear Guy, where would I carry this consideration?" she laughed, with +a sweeping motion to her narrow lingerie gown that could not so much as +conceal a pocket. + +"I don't imagine that you are carrying gold or even Bank of England +notes. You're not so crude. The consideration is, most likely, a note to +the German Ambassador, on the presentation of which the money will be +paid in good American gold. And I'm so sure of the facts that it is +either the formula or the consideration. The latter we shall not +appropriate; 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 would +have answered he cut her short, courteously but with finality. "You've +lost, Madeline; now be a good loser. You've won from me, and made me pay +stakes 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 the +instrument over. + +"This is Ranleigh," came the voice. "We've searched the man, also the +cab, 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 the +receiver, "was to say that Mr. Snodgrass and the cab have been +thoroughly searched and nothing suspicious found." + +"Your intuition is marvellous," Harleston answered. "Major Ranleigh's +report was that exactly. Consequently, Madeline, the letter must be with +you." + +"How about the consideration that Captain Snodgrass received from me in +return for the formulaic letter?" she asked. "He doesn't seem to have +had it." + +"Maybe you managed both to get the letter from him and to keep the +consideration. It would not be the first time I have known you to +accomplish 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 pad +before him and looking calmly at her--as impersonal as though she were a +door-jamb; and she understood; however much he might be inclined to aid +her, this was not the time for him even to appear interested. On another +occasion, _a deux_, he would display sufficient ardour and admiration. +At present it must be the impassive face and the judicial manner. The +business of the great Government he had the honour to represent was at +issue! + +There being no help from that high and mighty quarter, she turned to +Harleston. + +"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 the +Secretary's heart. + +He gave a shout--and sat perfectly still. Mrs. Clephane, with an +exclamation of fear, laid her hand on Harleston's arm. Carpenter was +impassive. 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. Speak +your 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 Secretary +remarked 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 all +fearful for your Excellency. Mrs. Spencer won't shoot; she's only +bluffing. 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 levelled +revolver. + +"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 to +be the one to call it; the result was quite too uncertain. He had never +looked into the muzzle of a revolver, and he found the experience +distinctly unpleasant--she held the barrel so steady and pointed +straight at his heart. Diplomatic secrets were wanted of course, but +they 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," she +replied, "I prefer to shoot you, if necessary--though I trust it won't +be necessary. What's a mere scrap of paper, without value save as a +means to detect its author, compared to the life of the greatest +American diplomat? Moreover, the letter would yield you nothing as to +its meaning nor its author. The meaning you already know, since you have +found the key-word to the cipher; so only the author remains; and as it +is typewritten you will have small, very small, prospect from it." She +had 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 and +quite ready to give our lives for our country, if the sacrifice will +benefit it in the very least; yet I can't see the obligation in this +instance, can you Harleston?" + +"None in the least, sir, provided your life were at issue," Harleston +answered. "For my part, I think it isn't even seriously threatened. If +Mrs. Spencer will shift her aim to me, I'll take a chance." + +Mrs. Clephane gave a suppressed exclamation and an involuntary motion of +protest--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 matter +aside, she turned to the Secretary. "Since we two are of one mind in the +affair before us, your Excellency," she observed, "I fancy I may take it +as settled. Nevertheless you will pardon me if I don't depress my aim +until we have attended to a little matter; it will occupy us but a +moment," making a step nearer the desk and away from the others, yet +still 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 the +situation. + +"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 your +Excellency to light the aforesaid candle?" + +The Secretary promptly struck a match, and managed with a most unsteady +hand to touch it to the wick. + +As the flame flared up, she drew a narrow envelope from her bag and +tossed 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 a +single sheet of the thinnest texture used for foreign correspondence. He +looked 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, your +Excellency, will you place the envelope in the candle's flame?" + +The Secretary took the envelope by the tip of one corner and held it in +the blaze until it was burned to his fingers--no writing was disclosed. + +"Now the letter, please?" she directed. And when Carpenter would have +protested, she cut him short with a peremptory gesture. "Don't +interrupt, sir!" she exclaimed. + +And Carpenter laughed softly and did nothing more--being, with +Harleston, in enjoyment of their chief's discomfiture. + +"The letter--see--your Excellency," she repeated with a bewildering +smile. + +And as the flame crept down the thin sheet, just ahead of it, apparent +to them all, crept also the writing, brought out by the heat. In a +moment it was over; the last bit of the corner burning in a brass tray +where the Secretary had dropped it. + +"Now, Mr. Harleston," said Madeline Spencer, lowering her revolver as +the final flicker of the flame expired, "I am ready to submit to a +search." + +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 the +waiting-room, she will officiate in the matter. We're not likely to find +anything, but it's to provide against the chance."--And turning to +Madeline Spencer: "Whatever the outcome, madame, you will leave +Washington tonight and sail from New York on the morrow; and I should +advise you to remain abroad so long as you are in the Diplomatic +Service." + +And she--knowing very well that the search was necessary, and aware that +while there was nothing incriminating upon her yet from that moment, +until the ship that carried her passed out to sea, she would be under +close espionage--answered, pleasantly as though accepting a courtesy +tendered, and with a winning smile: + +"I had arranged to sail tomorrow, Mr. Harleston so it will be just as +intended. Meanwhile, I'm at the service of your female assistant. She +will find nothing, I assure you." + +"Give me the pleasure of conducting you to her," Harleston replied, and +swung open the door. + +"If Mrs. Clephane will trust you with me," she inflected, flouting the +other with a meaning look; which look flitted across the room to the +Secretary and changed to one of interrogation as it met his eyes--calm +eyes and steady, and with never a trace of the interest that she knew +was behind them, yet dared not show--yet awhile. + +And Mrs. Clephane answered her look by a shrug; and Harleston answered +that to the Secretary by a soft chuckle. As the door closed behind +them, 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 other +opponents." + +"And we'll call this--" + +"A stale-mate! I didn't win everything, yet what I lost was of no +moment--" + +"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 one +of 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, as +she and Harleston came down the steps into the Avenue. + +Harleston leaned over. "I'll confide to you that he is an egotistical +and insufferable old ass," he whispered. + +"And yet he thinks he is a perfect fascinator with the ladies!" she +laughed. "Even now he is contemplating what a conquest he made of Mrs. +Spencer. It was great fun to watch her playing him; and then how +suddenly he pulled himself up and assumed a judicial manner--which +deceived no one. Certainly it didn't deceive her, for the flying look +she gave him, as she went out, was the cleverest thing she did. It told +him everything he wanted to know, and simply gorged his vanity. She may +be, doubtless is, a bad, bad lot; yet nevertheless I can't help liking +her--and for finesse and skill she is a wonder." Then she looked at him +demurely. "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 to +dinner this evening." + +"I wasn't aware that we were to dine together In fact, I was thinking of +doing 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 her +cheek; she understood that he asked of her something more than a mere +dinner. And, after a pause, she answered softly, yet not so softly but +that he heard: + +"If you wish it, Monsieur Harleston." + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CAB OF THE SLEEPING HORSE*** + + +******* This file should be named 15094.txt or 15094.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/5/0/9/15094 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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