pression came into his eyes.

"Do you mean, sir, that you don't know her?" he asked, almost harshly.

"I don't know her name."

"And you had the effrontery to--My excellent friend, you amaze me. I
can't believe it of you. Why, sir, how dare you say this to me? I know
that Americans are bold, but, by gad, sir, I've always looked upon them
as gentlemen. You--"

"Hold on, Baron Dangloss," interrupted Truxton, very red in the face.
"Don't say it, please. You'd better hear my side of the story first. She
went to school with my sister. She knows me, but, confound it, sir, she
refuses to tell me who she is. Do you think that is fair? Now, I'll
tell you how it came about." He related the story of the goldfish and
the pinhook. The Baron smiled comfortably to himself, a sphinx-like
expression coming into his beady eyes as he stared steadily on ahead;
her trim grey back seemed to encourage his admiring smile.

"Well, my boy, if she elects to keep you in the dark concerning her
name, it is not for me to betray her," he said at the end of the
recital. "Ladies in her position, I dare say, enjoy these little
mysteries. If she wants you to know, she'll tell you. Perhaps it would
be well for you to be properly, officially presented to her hi--to the
young lady. Your countryman, Mr. Tullis, will be glad to do so, I fancy.
But let me suggest: don't permit your ingenuousness to get the better of
you again. She's having sport with you on account of it. We all know her
propensities."

It was dusk when they entered the northern gates. Above the Castle, King
said good-bye to Tullis and the Countess, gravely saluted the sleepy
Prince, and followed Mr. Hobbs off to the heart of the city. He was hot
with resentment. Either she had forgotten to say good-bye to him or had
wilfully decided to ignore him altogether; at any rate, she entered the
gates to the Castle grounds without so much as an indifferent glance in
his direction.

Truxton knew in advance that he was to have a sleepless, unhappy night.

In his room at the hotel he found the second anonymous letter,
unquestionably from the same source, but this time printed in crude,
stilted letters. It had been stuck under the door, together with some
letters that had been forwarded from Teheran.

"_Leave the city at once. You are in great danger. Save yourself_!"

This time he did not laugh. That it was from Olga Platanova he made no
doubt. But why she should interest herself so persistent