a spotless cover.

"Ah," he murmured, and by the sight was mentally translated to that
celebrated apartment of the palace at Versailles, where Louis XIV
and his notorious favourite once were accustomed to dine, alone, and
unsuitably dressed, the courses being served in just this fashion.

Harley held his pipe in his hand, and contemplated the repast. It was
only logical to suppose it to be innocuous, and a keen appetite
hastened the issue. He sidetracked his suspicion, and made an excellent
breakfast. So the first day of his captivity began.

Growing used to the stillness about him, he presently began to detect,
as the hours wore on, distant familiar sounds. Automobiles on the
highroad, trains leaving and entering a tunnel which he judged to be
from two to three miles distant; even human voices at long intervals.

The noises of an English countryside crept through the barred windows.
Beyond a doubt he was in the house known as Hillside. Probably at
night the lights of London could be seen from the garden. He was within
ordinary telephone call of Chancery Lane. Yet he resumed his pipe and
smiled philosophically. He had hoped to see the table disappear beneath
the floor. As evidence that he was constantly watched, this had occurred
during a brief visit which he had made to the bedroom in quest of
matches.

When he returned the table was in its former place, but the cover had
been removed. He carefully examined the floor beneath it, and realized
that there was no hope of depressing the trap from above. Then, at an
hour which he judged to be that of noon, the same voice addressed him
from beyond the gilded screen.

"Mr. Paul Harley?"

"Yes, what have you to say?"

"By this time, Mr. Harley, you must have recognized that opposition
is futile. At any moment we could visit death upon you. Escape, on
the other hand, is out of the question. We desire you no harm. For
diplomatic reasons, we should prefer you to live. Our cause is a sacred
one. Do not misjudge it by minor incidents. A short statement and a copy
of your English testament shall be placed upon the table, if you wish."

"I do not wish," Paul Harley returned.

"Is that your last word, Mr. Harley? We warn you that the third time of
asking will be the last time."

"This is my last word."

"Your own life is not the only stake at issue."

"What do you mean?"

"You will learn what we mean, if you insist upon withholding your
consent until we next invite it