f detection was infinitesimal, while the stakes
were high enough to merit serious consideration.

He had refused to be a party to the transaction, whereupon Du Cane had
revived a subject which he had fondly believed to be buried for
ever--that terrible affair which had startled and mystified the whole
world, and which had had such an important political bearing that, by
it, the destinies of a great nation had actually been changed.

A certain man--a great man--had died, but until that hour Phil
Poland's connection with the tragedy had never been suspected.

Yet, from what Arnold Du Cane had just said, he saw that the truth was
actually known, and he realized that his own position was now one of
distinct insecurity.

He was silent, full of wonder. How could Arnold have gained his
knowledge? What did he know? How much did he know? The strength of his
defiance must be gauged upon the extent of Arnold's knowledge.

He set his teeth hard. The scandal was one which must never see the
light of day, he told himself. Upon the suppression of the true facts
depended the honour and welfare of a nation.

Arnold Du Cane knew the truth. Of that, there could be no doubt. Did
he intend to use this knowledge in order to secure his assistance in
this latest dastardly scheme?

At last, after a long silence, Poland asked in as cool a voice as he
could--

"What causes you to suspect that Sonia knows anything?"

"Well," replied this crafty, round-faced visitor, "considering how
that young Russian let out at you when you were walking with her that
moonlight night out in the garden, I don't think there can be much
doubt that she is fully aware of the mysterious source of her father's
income."

"Sonia doesn't know Russian. The fellow spoke in that language, I
remember," was his reply. "Yet I was a fool, I know, to have taken her
over that accursed place--that hell in paradise. She is always
perfectly happy at the Hotel de Luxembourg at Nice, where each season
she makes some pleasant friends, and never suspects the reason of my
absences."

"All of us are fools at times, Phil," was his visitor's response, as
he selected a fresh cigar from the silver box upon the table and
slowly lit it. "But," he went on, "I do really think you are going too
far in expecting that you can conceal the truth from the girl much
longer. She isn't a child, you must recollect."

"She must never know!" cried the unhappy man in a hoarse voice. "By
Gad! she