that she was very tired, but the incentive that, had spurred
her last night and all day still gave her strength to cope with whatever
was to come.

"To the Embassy," Goritz whispered, "and fast!"

He had mounted again into the seat beside the chauffeur, and so Marishka
did not question him, but his back was eloquent of determination. They
drove boldly into the Ringstrasse and turned rapidly into a side street.
Here the machine stopped again and Captain Goritz stood at the door of
the tonneau waiting for her to descend. He led the way, walking rapidly,
while Marishka struggled beside him as fast as her stiffened limbs
permitted.

"The Ambassador can succeed where we should fail. He must procure an
interview for you. I think it may be managed unless----" He paused. "But
we shall see."

Silently Marishka followed into the Metternichgasse and up the steps of
the Embassy and into a lofty salon where Captain Goritz bade her wait,
and disappeared. A gloomy room with dingy frescoes of impossible cupids
and still more impossible roses. Roses--the _leit motif_ of her tragedy!
There were mirrors--many mirrors, all of which seemed to be reflecting
her pallid face. She was weary and covered with dust, but not so weary
as she was desperate. Why should she wait again, while Sophie Chotek was
here--here in Vienna. Unable to remain seated, she rose and walked about
the room, the eternal feminine impelling a rearrangement of her hat and
veil at the long mirror near the upper end of the room. Beside her was a
window which opened upon a small court. Opposite this window was another
window from which came sound of voices. She listened. It was her
privilege, for they were speaking of her.

"...I acted upon my own judgment, Excellency. There seemed nothing else
to do. The Countess Strahni has given me her word of honor. She will
keep it."

"But the telegraph----"

"Sealed----"

"Impossible!"

"I beg you to try it--at once."

"Ah--the telephone!"

Marishka heard the clicking of the instrument and the voice again asking
for a number. Silence. And then,--"I do not understand...." A pause.
"_Ach--so!_" Another click and tinkle of the bell. "_Donnerwetter_, Herr
Hauptmann! You are right. They say there is a temporary derangement of
the system."

Another bell sounded. A door opened and shut. Then a question in the
same voice.

"Graf von Mendel, the Archduke Franz reached Vienna this afternoon with
the Duchess on the way to Saraje