Tassen shook with laughter.

"Say," he exclaimed, "this is a great story! If you're ready, Baron de
Grost, lead the way to where we can get a whiskey and soda and a chat."

Mademoiselle Celaire came gliding out to them.

"I am not going to be left here," she whispered, taking Peter's arm.

Peter looked back from the door.

"At any rate, Mr. Andrea Korust," he said, "your first supper was a
success. Colonel Mayson was genuine. Our real English military aeronaut
was here, and he has disclosed to you, Maurice Korust, all that he ever
knew. Henceforth, I presume your great country will dispute with us for
the mastery of the air.

"Queer country, this!" Mr. Von Tassen remarked, pausing on the step to
light a cigar. "Seems kind of humdrum after New York, but there's no use
talking. Things do happen over here, anyway!"

CHAPTER VII. MAJOR KOSUTH'S MISSION

His host, very fussy as he always was on the morning of his big shoot,
came bustling towards Peter, Baron de Grost, with a piece of paper in
his hand. The party of men had just descended from a large brake and
were standing about on the edge of the common, examining cartridges,
smoking a last cigarette before the business of the morning, and
chatting together over the prospects of the day's sport. In the
distance, a cloud of dust indicated the approach of a fast traveling
motor-car.

"My dear Baron," Sir William Bounderby said, "I want you to change your
stand to-day. I must have a good man at the far corner as the birds
go off my hand from there, and Addington was missing them shockingly
yesterday. Besides, there is a new man coming on your left and I know
nothing of his shooting--nothing at all!"

Peter smiled.

"Anywhere you choose to put me, Sir William," he assented. "They came
badly for Addington yesterday, and well for me. However, I'll do my
best."

"I wish people wouldn't bring strangers, especially to the one
shoot where I'm keen about the bag. I told Portal he could bring his
brother-in-law, and he's bringing this foreign fellow instead. Don't
suppose he can shoot for nuts! Did you ever hear of him, I wonder? The
Count von Hern, he calls himself."

The motor-car had come to a standstill by this time. From it descended
Mr. Portal himself, a large neighboring land owner, a man of culture
and travel. With him was Bernadine, in a very correct shooting suit and
Tyrolese hat. On the other side of Mr. Portal was a short, thick
set man, with olive