ntly--in a day, two days, a week--I can not tell. The fact is that
I think a crisis is approaching. I am sure that very soon a favorable
opportunity will present itself to make use of the treaty. Some little
time ago I determined to hide this document: it was no longer safe to
keep it in my own hands."

"Why not a bank----" he began.

"My friend, you have no _idea_ of the importance of the affair. Probably
the bank would have been safe, but governments do not stick at trifles
when the destinies of nations are at stake. Almost certainly a colossal
bribe would have been offered, and even bank officials are human. So I
resolved to be simple, original and daring. I hid the treaty in a house
not far from here. How it was done I will tell you another time. What I
want you to do is to help me regain it. I would go alone, but now I have
begun to think it better to have an aide, in case I fail. You realize
what it may mean if we are caught? A prison--for you must not explain.
Can you do that?"

"I am ready," he said with a laugh. When she looked at him like that he
felt that nothing mattered. Besides, it would be a thrill.

"Good," she said with enormous appreciation. "And now I am going to bed.
I am very sleepy."

He rose, gloomily wondering when he should see her again. "Well," he
said, with an attempt at cheerfulness, "good night."

"You are going?" she asked in surprise. "But why? I want you to stop
here."

Lionel's heart bounded, and then he looked at her. He was tempted to
stay, for she was unlike any other girl he had ever met. But that very
reason made him pause. He knew he wanted to kiss her and that he must
not. He thought he was not in love with her, because he ought not to be.
He knew that he would be in love with her if Lukos were dead. And
because he felt that she mattered, he was resolved not to hurt her.

"I am sorry," he said, dropping his light tone. "I should like to,
but--no!"

"Why not?" she asked, looking steadily at him. He looked as steadily at
her.

"Convention," he said frankly. "If I stop here and people get to know,
you will be slandered. That is why."

She was silent for a moment and then said softly: "You are better than I
thought.... You must certainly stop. As for 'people'--well, I know the
world and its miry ways. I know and I do not care."

"Your friends?" he suggested, rejoicing in her.

"I have only acquaintances, and they do not matter. Will that satisfy
you?"

He fought ag