paper-knife which lay near by. When the Minister again spoke, he did
so slowly, carefully, weighing each word.

"Have you seen him--the Englishman--since?"

"No, Excellency--"

"No?" The word came with cold emphasis.

"The hotel clerk, who is friendly--for a consideration--telephoned me
that the Englishman was out at the time of the accident, and that his
hand was burned slightly, and showed powder marks."

"So! He has said nothing to the authorities?"

"Not a word, so far as I have heard."

"Strange. Why should he conceal the matter?"

"He might think that he would be suspected."

"True, true. That is well spoken, Wratslav. But yet he knows a little
too much, does he not?"

"A great deal too much, Excellency."

"There is no certainty that he does not know also who the lady is."

"He goes to see her, Excellency."

The ivory knife swayed delicately, rhythmically, in the mobile fingers,
then was still. The Minister spoke deliberately.

"It would be well if he did not go again--did not speak to her again
for that matter--" The heavy lids flickered for an instant as His
Excellency flashed one look of keen intent towards his hearer as though
to emphasize the portent of his words. Then the smooth voice
continued, "if it could be arranged."

"It can be arranged, Excellency."

"I thought so." Again the keen look. Then the Minister leaned back in
his chair, revolving it slightly that his arm might rest more
comfortably on the desk.

"Excellency?" Wratslav spoke with some anxiety.

"Yes?"

"Unfortunately, the Englishman is a person of some consequence in his
own country."

"Indeed? One Griffin, is he not?"

"His brother is dead. He died last week. The Englishman is now Baron
Griffin."

The fingers tightened around the ivory knife.

"That," the Minister's voice became softer and even more velvety,
"_that_ is unfortunate." There was silence again. The knife was laid
down, and the fingers moved slowly, heavily, on the desk. "Still, I
think, Wratslav, that Ivan should continue to work on the railroad--and
you also--while the excellent shooting continues near--ah--the camp.
It seems best."

The telephone on the desk tinkled. His Excellency picked up the
receiver.

"Yes, someone will come down."

He hung up the receiver and turned to Wratslav.

"There is a telegram downstairs. Go down and get it and bring it here.
Hurry."

The secretary was back in a few moments with the envelo