successor to the throne--"

"Is Madame the duchess," Fitzgerald completed. "I haven't the slightest
doubt of that. One way or the other, it does not concern me. I came here
simply to fulfill the wishes of my father; and my word, Madame, fulfill
them I shall. You are holding me a prisoner, but uselessly. On the
twentieth the certificates fall due against the government. If they are
not presented either for renewal or collection, the bankruptcy scheme of
your duchess will fall through just the same. I will tell you the
truth, Madame. My father never expected to collect the moneys so long as
Leopold sat on the throne."

The whistle grew shrill.

"This officer here," continued Fitzgerald, while the Colonel made a
comical grimace, "suggests violence. I shall save him the trouble. I
have seen much of the world, Madame--the hard side of it--and, knowing
it as I do, it is scarcely probable that I should carry about my person
the equivalent of four millions of crowns."

"Well, Madame," said the Colonel, pushing his belt closer about his
hips, as a soldier always does when he is on the point of departure,
"what he says is true, every word of it. I see nothing more to do at
present."

Mademoiselle of the Veil was paying not so much attention to the
Colonel's words as she was to Maurice's whistle.

"Monsieur," she said, coldly, "have you no other tune in your
repertory?"

"Pardon me!" exclaimed Maurice. "I did not intend to annoy you." He
stepped down out of the window.

"You do not annoy me; only the tune grows rather monotonous."

"I will whistle anything you may suggest," he volunteered.

She did not respond to this flippancy, though the pupils of her gray
eyes grew large with anger. She walked the length of the room and back.

"Count, what do you think would be most satisfactory to her Highness,
under the circumstances?"

"I have yet to hear of her Highness' disapproval of anything you
undertake."

"Messieurs, your parole d'honneur, and the freedom of the chateau is
yours--within the sentry lines. I wish to make your recollections of the
Red Chateau rather pleasant than otherwise. I shall be most happy if you
will honor my table with your presence."

The Colonel coughed, Maurice smoothed the back of his head, and
Fitzgerald caught up his monocle.

"My word, Madame," said Maurice, "is not worth much, being that of
a diplomat, but such as it is it is yours. However, my clothes are
scarcely presentable," which