to the prince.

"How dare you do such a thing?" she demanded fiercely. "It is murder."

"This is not a time, Miss Thorne, for your interference," replied the
prince coldly. "It has all passed beyond the point where the feelings
of any one person, even the feelings of the woman who has engineered the
compact, can be considered. A single life can not be permitted to stand
in the way of the consummation of this world project. Mr. Grimm alive
means the compact would be useless, if not impossible; Mr. Grimm dead
means the fruition of all our plans and hopes. You have done your duty
and you have done it well; but now your authority ends, and I, the
special envoy of--"

"Just a moment, please," Mr. Grimm interrupted courteously. "As I
understand it, your Highness, the mine there in the corner is charged?"

"Yes. It just happened to be here for purposes of experiment."

"The cap is attached?"

"Quite right." The prince laughed.

"And at three o'clock, by your watch, the mine will be fired by a
wireless operator fifteen miles from here?"

"Something like that; yes, very much like that," assented the prince.

"Thank you. I merely wanted to understand it." Mr. Grimm pulled a chair
up against the door and sat down, crossing his legs. On his knees rested
the barrel of a revolver, glittering, fascinating, in the semi-darkness.
"Now, gentlemen," and he glanced at his watch, "it's twenty-one minutes
of three o'clock. At three that mine will explode. We will all be in the
room when it happens, unless his Highness sees fit to destroy the
compact."

Eyes sought eyes, and the prince removed his mask with a sudden gesture.
His face was bloodless.

"If any man," and Mr. Grimm gave Miss Thorne a quick glance, "I should
say, _any person_, attempts to leave this room I _know_ he will die; and
there's a bare chance that the percussion cap will fail to work. I can
account for six of you, if there is a rush."

"But, man, if that mine explodes we shall all be killed--blown to
pieces!" burst from one of the cowled figures.

"If the percussion cap works," supplemented Mr. Grimm.

Mingled emotions struggled in the flushed face of Isabel as she studied
Mr. Grimm's impassive countenance.

"I have never disappointed you yet, Miss Thorne," he remarked as if it
were an explanation. "I shall not now."

She turned to the prince.

"Your Highness, I think it needless to argue further," she said. "We
have no choice in the matter; there is