or this, sir," De Lamborne cried. "It is the
honor of my wife which you assail."

"I maintain only," the Baron answered, "that your safe was entered from
that room. A search will prove it."

"There will be no search there," De Lamborne declared, fiercely. "I am
the Ambassador of France, and my power under this roof is absolute. I
say that you shall not cross that threshold."

De Grost's expression did not change. Only his hands were suddenly
outstretched with a curious gesture--the four fingers were raised, the
thumbs depressed. Monsieur De Lamborne collapsed.

"I submit," he muttered. "It is you who are the master. Search where you
will."

"Monsieur has arrived?" the woman demanded, breathlessly.

The proprietor of the restaurant himself bowed a reply. His client was
evidently well-known to him. He answered her in French--French, with a
very guttural accent.

"Monsieur has ascended some few minutes ago. Myself, I have not had the
pleasure of wishing him bon aperitif, but Fritz announced his coming."

The woman drew a little sigh of relief. A vague misgiving had troubled
her during the last few hours. She raised her veil as she mounted the
narrow staircase which led to the one private room at the Hotel de
Lorraine. She entered, without tapping, the room at the head of the
stairs, pushing open the ill-varnished door with its white-curtained
top. At first she thought that the little apartment was empty.

"Are you there?" she exclaimed, advancing a few steps.

The figure of a man glided from behind the worn screen close by her
side, and stood between her and the door.

"Madame!" De Grost said, bowing low.

Even then she scarcely realized that she was trapped. "You?" she cried.
"You, Baron? But I do not understand. You have followed me here?"

"On the contrary, Madame," he answered. "I have preceded you."

Her colossal vanity triumphed over her natural astuteness. The man had
employed spies to watch her! He had lost his head. It was an awkward
matter, this, but it was to be arranged. She held out her hands.

"Monsieur," she said, "let me beg you now to go away. If you care to,
come and see me this evening. I will explain everything. It is a little
family affair which brings me here."

"A family affair, Madame, with Bernadine, the enemy of France," De Grost
declared, gravely.

She collapsed miserably, her fingers grasping at the air, the cry which
broke from her lips harsh and unnatural. Before he could