cked it up--and
read it.

"The plan you suggest is worthy of you, Madame. The
Englishman is fair game, being a common enemy. Let
us gain our ends through the heart, since his purse
is impregnable to assaults. But the countess? Why not
the pantry maid, since the other is an American? They
lack discrimination. The king grows weaker every
day. Nothing was found in the Englishman's rooms. I
fear that the consols are in the safe at the British
legation. As usual, a courier will arrive each night.
B."

"Why--not--the--pantry maid?" Maurice drawled. "That is flippant." He
read the message again. "What plan?" Suddenly he struck his thigh. "By
George, so that is it, eh, Madame? So that is why we are so comfortably
lodged here? I am in the way, and you bait the hook with a countess!
Since the purse will not lead the way, the heart, eh? Certainly I shall
tell my lord the Englishman all about his hostess when I return from the
ride. Decidedly you are clever. O, how careless! Not even in cipher, so
that he who reads may run. And who is B.?--Beauvais! Something told me
that this man had a hand in the affair. I remember the look he gave me.
A traitor, too.

"Hang my memory, which seems always to forget what I wish to remember
and remember what I wish to forget! Where have I met this man Beauvais
before? Ah, the countess!" He thrust the message into his breast.
"Evidently Madame thinks I am worth consideration; uncommonly pretty
bait. Shall I let the play run on, or shall I tell her? Ah! you have
two minutes to spare," he said, as she approached. "But you do not need
them," throwing a deal of admiration into his glance.

"It does not take me long to dress--on occasions."

"A compliment to me?" he said.

"If you will accept it."

It was an exhilarating morning, full of forest perfumes. Through the
haze the mountains glittered like huge emeralds and amethysts.

"What a day!" said the countess, as they galloped away.

"Aye, for plots and war and love!"

"For plots and war?" demurely. Her cheeks were rosy and her hair as
yellow as the silk of corn.

"Well, then, for love." He shortened his rein. "A propos, have you ever
been in love, countess?"

"I? What a question!"

"Have you?"

"N--no! Let us talk of plots and war," gazing across the valley.

"No; let us talk of love. I am in love, and one afflicted that way
wishes a confidant. I appoint yo