o cut off his breath.

But he was convinced once more that it was only chance, as the
Secretary's face bore no look of malice, no thought of suspicion, being,
on the contrary, mild and smiling. As before, he took Prescott's
unresisting arm and pointed up at the bright stars in their sea of blue.

"They are laughing at our passions, Mr. Prescott, perhaps smiling is the
word," he said. "Such a peace as that appeals to me. I am not fond of
war and I know that you are not. I feel it particularly to-night. There
is poetry in the heavens so calm and so cold."

Prescott said nothing; the old sense of oppression, of one caught in a
trap, was in full force, and he merely waited.

"I wish to speak frankly to-night," continued the Secretary. "There was
at first a feeling of coldness, even hostility, between us, but in my
case, and I think in yours too, it has passed. It is because we now
recognize facts and understand that we are in a sense rivals--friendly
rivals in a matter of which we know well."

The hand upon Prescott's arm did not tremble a particle as the Secretary
thus spoke so clearly. But Prescott did not answer, and they went on in
silence to the end of the square, where a man, a stranger to Prescott,
was waiting.

Mr. Sefton beckoned to the stranger and, politely asking Prescott to
excuse him a moment, talked with him a little while in low tones. Then
he dismissed him and rejoined Prescott.

"A secret service agent," he said. "Unfortunately, I have to do with
these people, though I am sure it could not be more repugnant to any one
than it is to me; but we are forced to it. We must keep a watch even
here in Richmond among our own people."

Prescott felt cold to the spine when the Secretary, with a courteous
good-night, released him a few moments later. Then he hurried home and
slept uneasily.

He was in dread at the breakfast table the next morning lest his mother
should hand him a tiny package, left at the door, as she had done once
before, but it did not happen, nor did it come the next day or the next.

The gold double eagle had been kept.

CHAPTER IX

ROBERT AND LUCIA

Two days passed, and neither any word nor his gold having come from the
Grayson cottage, Prescott began to feel bold again and decided that he
would call there openly and talk once more with Miss Grayson. He waited
until the night was dusky, skies and stars alike obscured by clouds, and
then knocked boldly at the door, which wa