settled upon them.

Of the tragedy on the Norwich road no more had been heard. The police
had relinquished their inquiries, the affair had been placed upon the
long list of unsolved mysteries, and it had passed out of the public
mind. Only to the British Cabinet had the matter caused great suspense
and serious consideration, while it had cost the Earl of Bracondale, as
Foreign Minister, the greatest efforts of the most delicate diplomacy
to hold his own in defiance to the German intentions. For two whole
months the Foreign Office had lived in daily expectation of sudden
hostilities. In the Wilhelmstrasse the advisability of a raid upon our
shores had been seriously discussed, and the War Council were nearly
unanimous in favour of crossing swords with England.

Only by the clever and ingenious efforts of British secret agents in
Berlin, who kept Darnborough informed of all in progress, was Lord
Bracondale able to stem the tide and guide the ship of state into the
smooth waters of peace.

And of all this the British public had remained in blissful ignorance.
The reader of the morning paper was assured that never in this decade
had the European outlook been so peaceful, and that our relations with
our friends in Berlin were of the most cordial nature. Indeed, there was
some talk of an _entente_.

The reader was, however, in ignorance that for weeks on end the British
fleet had been kept in the vicinity of the North Sea, and that the
destroyer flotillas were lying in the East Coast harbours with steam up,
ready to proceed to sea at a moment's notice.

Nevertheless, the peril had passed once again, thanks to the firm,
fearless attitude adopted by Lord Bracondale, and though the secret of
England's weakness was known and freely commented upon in Government
circles in Berlin, yet the clamorous demands of the war party were not
acceded to. The British lion had shown his teeth, and Germany had again
hesitated.

Ralph Ansell and Adolphe Carlier, after the failure of their plot to rob
Matheson and Wilson's, in Bond Street, had fled next day to Belgium, and
thence had returned to France.

Ralph had seen Jean for a few moments before his flight, explaining that
his sudden departure was due to the death of his uncle, a landowner near
Valence, in whose estate he was interested, and she, of course, believed
him.

So cleverly, indeed, did he deceive her that it was not surprising that
old Libert and his daughter should meet th