face became grave.

"Poor fellow!" she murmured.

"He simply sat still and asked for it," Bellamy declared, still
speaking in a cautious undertone. "He would not be warned. I could
have saved him, if any one could, but he would not hear reason."

"He was what you call pig-headed," she remarked.

"He has paid the penalty," Bellamy continued. "Now listen to me,
Louise. I got into that small coupe next to Von Behrling's, and I
feel sure, from what I overheard, that they will go on to London,
all three of them."

"Who is there on the train?" she demanded.

"Baron Streuss, who is head of the Secret Police, Von Behrling and
Adolf Kahn," Bellamy answered. "Then there are four or five Secret
Service men of the rank and file, but they are all traveling
separately. Von Behrling has the packet. The others form a sort
of cordon around him."

"But why," she asked, "does he go on to London? Why not return to
Vienna?"

"For one thing," Bellamy replied, with a grim smile, "they are
afraid of me. Then you must remember that this affair of Dorward
will be talked about. They do not want to seem in any way
implicated. To return from any one of these stations down the line
would create suspicion."

She nodded.

"Well?"

"I am going to leave the train at the next stop," he continued. "I
find that I shall just catch the Northern Express to Berlin. From
there I shall come on to London as quickly as I can. You know the
address of my rooms?"

She nodded.

"15, Fitzroy Street."

"When I get there, let me have a line waiting to tell me where I
can see you. While I am on the train you will find Von Behrling
almost inaccessible. Directly I have gone it will be different.
Play with him carefully. He should not be difficult. To tell you
the truth, I am rather surprised that he has been trusted upon a
mission like this. He was in disgrace with the Chancellor a short
while ago, and I know that he was hurt at not being allowed to
attend the conference. The others will watch him closely, but
they cannot overhear everything that passes between you two. Von
Behrling is a poor man. You will know how to make him wish he were
rich."

Very slowly her eyebrows rose up. She looked at him doubtfully.

"It is a slender chance, David," she remarked. "Von Behrling is a
little wild, I know, and he pretends to be very much in love with
me, but I do not think that he would sell his country. Then, too,
see how he will be