e asked.

"I can no more tell you that," Seaman replied, "than why Johann Wolff
was sent over here to spy upon our perfect work. I am most unhappy, my
friend. The things which I understand, however threatening they are, I
do not fear. Things which I do not understand oppress me."

Dominey laughed quietly.

"Come," he said, "there is nothing here which seriously threatens our
position. The Princess is angry, but she is not likely to give us away.
This man Wolff could make no adverse report about either of us. We are
doing our job and doing it well. Let our clear consciences console us."

"That is well," Seaman replied, "but I feel uneasy. I must not stay here
longer. Too intimate an association between you and me is unwise."

"Well, I think I can be trusted," Dominey observed, "even if I am to be
left alone."

"In every respect except as regards the Princess," Seaman admitted,
"your deportment has been most discreet."

"Except as regards the Princess," Dominey repeated irritably. "Really,
my friend, I cannot understand your point of view in this matter.
You could not expect me to mix up a secret honeymoon with my present
commitments!"

"There might surely have been some middle way?" Seaman persisted. "You
show so much tact in other matters."

"You do not know the Princess," Dominey muttered.

Rosamund joined them for luncheon, bringing news of Stephanie's sudden
departure, with notes and messages for everybody. Caroline made a little
grimace at her host.

"You're in trouble!" she whispered in his ear. "All the same, I approve.
I like Stephanie, but she is an exceedingly dangerous person."

"I wonder whether she is," Dominey mused.

"I think men have generally found her so," Caroline replied. "She had
one wonderful love affair, which ended, as you know, in her husband
being killed in a duel and her lover being banished from the country.
Still, she's not quite the sort of woman to be content with a banished
lover. I fancied I noticed distinct signs of her being willing to
replace him whilst she has been down here!"

"I feel as though a blight had settled upon my house party," Dominey
remarked with bland irrelevancy. "First Eddy, then Mr. Ludwig Miller,
and now Stephanie."

"And who on earth was Mr. Ludwig Miller, after all?" Caroline enquired.

"He was a fat, flaxen-haired German who brought me messages from old
friends in Africa. He had no luggage but a walking stick, and he seems
to have upset the