tfully added, "to shave your
mustache, but even so Von Ritz will know you. You cannot be too
guarded."

For an instant Benton stood with his hands braced on the coping
regarding her curiously. Evidently he stood on the verge of some
revelation, but the role in which her palpable mistake cast him was one
he must play all in the dark.

"You can trust me," she said with an impassioned note but without
elevating her voice. "I am the Countess--"

"Astaride," finished Benton.

Then he cautiously added the inquiry: "Have you heard the plans that
were discussed by the Duke, and Jusseret and Borttorff?"

"And yourself and Lieutenant Lapas," she augmented.

"And Lapas and myself," admitted Benton, lying fluently.

"I know only that Louis is to wait at his lodge to hear by wireless
whether France and Italy will recognize his government," she hastily
recited; "and that on that signal you and Lapas wait to strike the
blow."

"Do you know when?" inquired the American, fencing warily in the effort
to lead her into betrayal of more definite information.

"It must be soon--or never! But tell me, has Louis come? Has he reached
his hunting lodge? Does he know that guards are at the rock? Do you, or
Lapas, wait to flash the signal from the look-out? Ah, how my gaze shall
be bent toward the flag-staff." Then, as her eyes wandered out to sea,
her voice became soft with dreams. She laughed low and shook her head.
"Louis, Louis!" she murmured. "When you are King! But tell me--" again
she was anxious, executive, imperious--"tell me everything!"

Obviously he was mistaken for the English Jackal!

Benton countered anxiously. "Yet, Your Majesty,"--he bent low as he
anticipated her ambition in bestowing the title--"Your Majesty asks so
many questions all at once, and we may be interrupted."

Once more she was in a realm of air castles as she leaned on the stone
coping and gazed off into the moonlight. "It is but the touching of a
button," she murmured, "and _allons_! In the space of an explosion,
dynasties change places." Suddenly she stood up. "You are right. We
cannot talk here. I shall be missed. Take this"--she slipped a seal ring
from her finger. "Come to me to-morrow morning. I am at the Hotel de
France. I shall be ostensibly out, but show the ring and you will be
admitted. When I am Queen, you shall not go undecorated." She gave his
hand a warm momentary pressure and was gone.

CHAPTER XII

BENTON MUST DECIDE

On