il morning."

"There doesn't seem to be much chance for Bernadine," the Baron
remarked, thoughtfully.

"But there must be no chance--no chance at all," Monsieur de Lamborne
asserted, with a note of passion in his thin voice. "It is incredible,
preposterous, that he should even make the attempt. I want you to
come home with me and share my vigil. You shall be my witness in case
anything happens. We will watch together."

De Grost reflected for a moment.

"Bernadine makes few mistakes," he said, thoughtfully. Monsieur de
Lamborne passed his hand across his forehead.

"Do I not know it?" he muttered. "In this instance, though, it seems
impossible for him to succeed. The time is so short and the conditions
so difficult. I may count upon your assistance, Baron?"

The Baron drew from his pocket a crumpled piece of paper.

"I received a telegram from headquarters this after noon," he said,
"with instructions to place myself entirely at your disposal."

"You will return with me, then, to the Embassy?" Monsieur de Lamborne
asked, eagerly.

The Baron de Grost did not at once reply. He was standing in one of
his characteristic attitudes, his hands clasped behind him, his head
a little thrust forward, watching with every appearance of courteous
interest the roomful of guests, stationary just now, listening to the
performance of a famous violinist. It was, perhaps, by accident that
his eyes met those of Madame de Lamborne, but she smiled at him subtly,
more, perhaps, with her wonderful eyes than her lips themselves. She
was the centre of a very brilliant group, a most beautiful woman holding
court, as was only right and proper, among her admirers. The Baron
sighed.

"No," he said, "I shall not return with you, De Lamborne. I want you to
follow my suggestions, if you will."

"But, assuredly!"

"Leave here early and go to your club. Remain there until one, then come
to the Embassy. I shall be there awaiting your arrival."

"You mean that you will go there alone? I do not understand," the
ambassador protested. "Why should I go to my club? I do not at all
understand."

"Nevertheless, do as I say," De Grost insisted. "For the present, excuse
me. I must look after my guests."

The music had ceased, there was a movement toward the supper-room. The
Baron offered his arm to Madame de Lamborne, who welcomed him with a
brilliant smile. Her husband, although, for a Frenchman, he was by no
means of a jealous disposition, was