d tickets for himself and
his faithful attendant, and then made his way to the box of the
marchioness.

Rozina received him with apparent cordiality and listened to his
whispered account of what had befallen him.

"Have you talked this over with Prince Cagliari?" she asked.

"No, and I shall not," replied Vajdar, with significant emphasis. "This
is his doing."

"What makes you think so, pray?" asked the marchioness, with an air of
surprise. "Why should he plot the ruin of his own secretary and
confidant?"

"You yourself are the cause," was the retort.

The beautiful woman bent her head still nearer to him. Even her cruel
heart felt the compliment conveyed in this acknowledgment of her power.
"And what do you wish of me, my poor boy?" she murmured softly in his
ear.

"I wish an interview with you after the opera--a strictly confidential
interview."

"Very well. Come to me as soon as I get home, and I will admit you."

"No; you shall not turn me away so easily, with an empty promise."

"What, must I swear to you, then?"

"No, give me the little key, and I shall be sure of gaining admittance."

"I am almost afraid to trust you with it," objected the marchioness,
with an arch look; "but still you shall have it--there! And now guard it
well, and be discreet."

Vajdar kissed the hand extended to him and retired. The fair Cyrene
turned again toward the stage and joined in the applause. One might have
thought she was applauding the prima-donna; but no, she was applauding
herself.

Benjamin Vajdar returned home, left the police officer quartered in his
antechamber, and, with his servant's aid, began packing his trunks.
After that task was accomplished he waited impatiently for the close of
the opera and Rozina's return. When his watch told him that he must
have waited long enough, he passed noiselessly through the secret
passage and opened the mysterious door in the tall clock at its farther
end. The marchioness was not there. One hour, two hours, he waited in
her boudoir, and still she failed to appear.

"Very well; so be it," said Vajdar to himself. "You thought to outwit
me; we shall see which will outwit the other."

With that he opened the little writing-desk and took out the
morocco-bound pocketbook which he seemed to know so well where to find.
A single glance at its contents satisfied him that the papers he desired
were still there. He quickly pocketed his prize and then paused to look
around for th