t--more to you than I."

"Who told you that he was my comrade, as you call it?" the Princess
insisted, refusing to be diverted from her point.

"No one," I said quite truthfully. "I should be glad to know that he
was only that. But it is natural for me to feel some jealousy of all
your friends."

The Princess appeared relieved by this admission. But this relief
confirmed all my suspicions. I now felt certain that the medium was
an important figure in the plot which I was trying to defeat. I saw,
moreover, that however genuine my beautiful friend might be in her
love for me and her desire to save my life, she had no intention of
betraying the secrets of her fellow conspirators.

Her character presented an enigma almost impossible to solve. Perhaps
it is not the part of a wise man ever to try to understand a woman.
Her motives must always be mysterious, even to herself. It is
sufficient if one can learn to forecast her actions, and even that is
seldom possible.

"Then you refuse my help?" I asked reproachfully.

"You cannot help me," was the answer. "At least, that is, unless you
possess some power I have no idea of at present."

It was an ingenious turning of the tables. Instead of my questioning
the Princess, she was questioning me, in effect.

I made what was perhaps a rash admission.

"I am not wholly powerless, at all events. There are few sovereigns
in Europe whom I have not obliged at some time or other. Even the
German Emperor, though I have more than once crossed his path in
public matters, is my personal friend. In spite of his occasional
political errors, he is a stainless gentleman in private life, and I
am sure he would hear with horror of your position and the means by
which you had been forced into it."

Sophia looked at me with an expression of innocent bewilderment which
I could scarcely believe to be real.

"The German Emperor! But what has he to do with me?"

"He is said to have some influence with the Czar," I said drily.

My companion bit her lip.

"Oh, the Czar!" Her tone was scathing in its mixture of pity and
indifference. "Every one has some influence with the Czar. But is
there any one with whom Nicholas has influence?"

It was the severest thing I had ever heard said of the man whom an
ironical fate has made master of the Old World.

Suddenly the manner of the Princess underwent a sudden change.

She rose to her feet and gave me a penetrating glance, a glance which
revealed