"In other words," Dominey said, "you propose that we shall drink the
Dominey cabinet hock and the Dominey port to the glory of our country."

"To the glory of our country," Seaman echoed. "So be it, my
friend.--Listen."

A car had passed along the avenue in front of the house. There was
the sound of voices in the hall, a knock at the door, the rustle of a
woman's clothes. Parkins, a little disturbed, announced the arrivals.

"The Princess of Eiderstrom and--a gentleman. The Princess said that
her errand with you was urgent, sir," he added, turning apologetically
towards his master.

The Princess was already in the room, and following her a short man in
a suit of sombre black, wearing a white tie, and carrying a black bowler
hat. He blinked across the room through his thick glasses, and Dominey
knew that the end had come. The door was closed behind them. The
Princess came a little further into the room. Her hand was extended
towards Dominey, but not in greeting. Her white finger pointed straight
at him. She turned to her companion.

"Which is that, Doctor Schmidt?" she demanded.

"The Englishman, by God!" Schmidt answered.

The silence which reigned for several seconds was intense and profound.
The coolest of all four was perhaps Dominey. The Princess was pale with
a passion which seemed to sob behind her words.

"Everard Dominey," she cried, "what have you done with my lover? What
have you done with Leopold Von Ragastein?"

"He met with the fate," Dominey replied, "which he had prepared for me.
We fought and I conquered."

"You killed him?"

"I killed him," Dominey echoed. "It was a matter of necessity. His body
sleeps on the bed of the Blue River."

"And your life here has been a lie!"

"On the contrary, it has been the truth," Dominey objected. "I assured
you at the Carlton, when you first spoke to me, and I have assured you a
dozen times since, that I was Everard Dominey. That is my name. That is
who I am."

Seaman's voice seemed to come from a long way off. For the moment the
man had neither courage nor initiative. He seemed as though he had
received some sort of stroke. His mind was travelling backwards.

"You came to me at Cape Town," he muttered; "you had all Von Ragastein's
letters, you knew his history, you had the Imperial mandate."

"Von Ragastein and I exchanged the most intimate confidences in his
camp," Dominey said, "as Doctor Schmidt there knows. I told him my
history, and he told me