nd upon the outside of
which was written in a bold, clerkish hand, "_Re_ Richard Harborne,
deceased."

Richard Harborne! Sight of that name caused her to hold her breath.

She took out the file of papers with trembling hand and bent to examine
them in the light.

She saw there were newspaper cuttings, and long reports both in writing
and typed--reports signed by persons of whom she had no knowledge.

In one paper at which she glanced Dick was referred to as "The
Honourable Richard Davies Harborne, late of His Britannic Majesty's
Secret Service."

She read eagerly, hoping to discover something to throw light upon the
poor fellow's sad end, but the writing was small, cramped, and difficult
for her to decipher.

Yet, so deeply interested did she become that she did not hear the door
open.

Suddenly she heard a footstep behind her, and, starting quickly, turned
to find his lordship's mysterious visitor standing facing her with a
look of severe inquiry upon his grey, furrowed countenance.

"Oh! I--I--I'm so very sorry!" was all she could say, as she quickly
replaced the file of papers in the despatch-box. "I--I----"

But further words failed her, and she stood abashed, confused, and
ashamed.

CHAPTER XVII.

THE DARKENING HORIZON.

"Well, nurse, I hardly expected that," he said, reprovingly, his serious
eyes fixed upon hers.

Jean turned scarlet, and then admitted, as she stood with her back to
the writing table:

"I saw the photograph in your despatch-box, and it attracted me. Then I
saw those papers."

"And they seem to have greatly interested you, nurse--eh?" Darnborough
remarked.

"A woman is always interested in what does not concern her," she replied
with a forced smile.

"Well, forgive me for saying so, but I consider it gross impertinence on
your part to have pried into my papers, young lady," exclaimed the chief
of the Secret Service, with some asperity.

"I trust you will forgive me, Mr. Darnborough, but, truth to tell, I
could not resist the temptation."

"Just as many other people could not resist--if they knew what secrets
this despatch-box of mine sometimes contains," he laughed. "Well, nurse,
I forgive you," he added cheerfully, his manner changing. "Go back to
Lord Bracondale, and make haste and get him well again. England is
sorely in need of him to-day--I can assure you."

"Does he wish for me?"

"Yes, he gave me a message asking you to return to him at once."

"I'll g