me and have tea with me to-day or to-morrow, it would give
me the utmost pleasure."

She took the card, and crumpled it in her hand. All the time, though,
she shook her head.

"Monsieur is very kind," she answered. "I am afraid--I do not think that
it would be possible. And now, if you please, you must go away. I am
terrified lest my husband should return."

Bernadine bent low in a parting salute.

"Madame," he pleaded, "you will come?"

Bernadine was a handsome man, and he knew well enough how to use
his soft and extraordinarily musical voice. He knew very well, as he
retired, that somehow or other she would accept his invitation. Even
then, he felt dissatisfied and ill at ease, as he left the place. He had
made a little progress, but, after all, was it worth while? Supposing
that the man with whom her husband was even at this moment closeted, was
the Baron de Grost! He called a taxicab and drove at once to the Embassy
of his country.

Even at that moment, De Grost and the Russian--Paul Hagon he called
himself--were standing face to face in the latter's sitting-room. No
conventional greetings of any sort had been exchanged. De Grost
had scarcely closed the door behind him before Hagon addressed him
breathlessly, almost fiercely.

"Who are you, sir," he demanded, "and what do you want with me?"

"You had my letter?" De Grost inquired.

"I had your letter," the other admitted. "It told me nothing. You speak
of business. What business have I with any here?"

"My business is soon told," De Grost replied, "but in the first place,
I beg that you will not unnecessarily alarm yourself. There is,
believe me, no need for it, no need whatever, although, to prevent
misunderstandings, I may as well tell you at once that I am perfectly
well aware who it is that I am addressing."

Hagon collapsed into a chair. He buried his face in his hands and
groaned.

"I am not here necessarily as an enemy," De Grost continued. "You have
very excellent reasons, I make no doubt, for remaining unknown in
this city, or wherever you may be. As yet, let me assure you that your
identity is not even suspected, except by myself and one other. Those
few who believe you alive, believe that you are in America. There is no
need for any one to know that Father--"

"Stop!" the man begged, piteously. "Stop!"

De Grost bowed.

"I beg your pardon," he said.

"Now tell me," the man demanded, "what is your price? I have had money.
There is not