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High above the night-shrouded street, whose silence was only broken bythe occasional tramp of the military patrol or the gruff challenges ofthe sentries on the fortifications, a man was walking, with jerky,uneven strides, up and down a vast attic in an ancient houseoverlooking the old Fisher's Gate, close by where the River Ill leavesthe famous city of Strassburg.

The room, practically destitute of ordinary furniture, was fitted upas a chemical and physical laboratory, and the man was Doctor EmilFargeau, the most distinguished scientific investigator that the lostprovince of Alsace had produced—a tall, spare man of about sixty,with sloping, stooping shoulders and forward-thrown head, thinlycovered with straggling iron-grey hair. It was plain that he was inthe habit of shaving clean, but just now there was a short whitestubble both on his upper lip and on the lean wrinkled cheeks whichshowed the nervous workings of the muscles so plainly. In fact, hiswhole appearance was that of a man too completely absorbed by anover-mastering idea to pay any attention to the small details of life.

And such was the exact truth—for these few mid-night minutes whichwere being ticked off by an ancient wooden clock in the corner werethe most anxious of his life. In fact, a few more of them would decidewhether the Great Experiment, for which he had sacrificed everything,even to his home and his great professional position, was to be asuccess or a failure.

On the long, bare, pine table, beside which he was pacing up and down,stood a strange fabric about three feet high. It was round, and aboutthe size of a four-gallon ale jar. It was covered completely by aclosed glass cylinder, and rested on four strong glass supports.From the floor on either side of the table a number of twisted,silk-covered wires rose from two sets of storage batteries. Within thefour supports was a wooden dish, and on this lay a piece of brightsteel some four inches square and about an inch thick, just under acircle of needles which hung down in a circle from the bottom of themachine.

A very faint humming sound filled the room, and made a somewhatuncanny accompaniment to the leisurely tick of the clock and theirregular shuffling of the doctor's slippered feet.

Every now and then he stopped, and put his ear near to the machine,and then looked at the piece of steel with a gleam of longinganticipation in his keen, deep-set, grey eyes. Then he began his walkagain, and his lips went on working, as though he were holding aninaudible conversation with himself. At last there came a faint whirrfrom the clock, a little window opened, and a wooden bird bobbed outand said "Cuckoo" once. The doctor stopped instantly, took out hiswatch and compared it with the clock.

"Now, let us see!" he said, quietly, in his somewhat guttural AlsatianFrench, for in this supreme moment of his life he had gone back to thepatois of his boyhood, which he had spoken in the days before theTeuton's iron hand had snatched his well-loved native land from Franceand begun to rule it according to the pitiless doctrine of Blood andIron.

He pulled the platter out from under the machine, picked up a littlewooden mallet from the table, and, with a trembling hand, struck thesteel plate in the centre. It splintered instantly to fragments, asthough it had only been a thin sheet of glass. The doctor dropped themallet, lifted his hand to the window that looked out over the rivertowards the citadel, and said:

"It is done! And so, Germany, stealer of our land and oppressor of mypeople, will I break the great fabric of your power with one touch ofthis weak old hand of mine!"

Then he threw open one of the old-fashioned dormer windows that lookedout over the northern part of the city towards France, and began tospeak again in a low, intense tone which rose and fell slightly as hisdeep breaths came and went.

"But France, my beautiful mother France, thou shalt know soon that Ihave done more than given thee the power to turn on thy conqueror andcrush him. I can make thee queen and mistress of the world, and I willdo it. The other nations shall live and prosper only at thy bidding,and they shall pay thee tribute for the privilege of being somethingmore than the savages from which they came.

"Those who will not pay thee tribute shall go back to the Stone Age,for I will show thee how to make their metals useless. Only with thypermission shall their steam-engines work for them, or theirtelegraphs record their words; for I have found the Soul of the World,the Living Principle of Material Things, and I will draw it out of thefabric of Nature as I have done out of that block of steel. And I willgive it into thy hands, and the nations shall live or die according tothy pleasure.

"And you, Adelaide, daughter of our ancient line of kings, descendantof the Grand Monarch, you shall join hands with my Victor after he hasflung off the livery of his servitude, and together you shall raise upthe throne of Saint Louis in the place where these usurpers andRepublican canaille have reigned over ruined France. The Prince ofCondé shall sit in the seat of his ancestors, and after him Adelaidede Montpensier—and Victor, my son, shall stand beside her, ruler ofthe world!

"A miracle, and yet 'tis true! Possible, for I have made it possible.It is only for France to believe me and spend her millions—millionsthat will buy her the Empire of the Earth, and it is done—done aseasily as I worked that seeming miracle just now. I have riskedmuch—all—for I have hazarded even honour itself; but my faith isjustified, and I have won—and now, let me see how I stand before theworld for the present."

He went and sat down before the only piece of ordinary furniture thatthe laboratory contained, an old oak bureau, on which stood a littleshaded reading-lamp. He unlocked a drawer, and took out a littlewash-leather bag. He undid it and emptied it into his hand. There wereten twenty-mark pieces—just ten pounds and a few pence in Englishmoney. In his pocket he had perhaps twenty-five marks more.

"It is not much," he whispered, as he looked at the gold in his hand;"not much at the end of a life's work, as the world would call it. Butthe world knows nothing of that!" he went on, half-turning his headtowards the machine on the table. "As the world takes wealth, this isall that is left of fortune, lands, and savings. Everything is gonebut this, and that—ay, and more also. Yes, it was a hard fate thatforced me to do that. Still, science showed me how to alter thefigures so that not even the filthy Jew Weinthal himself could tell ifhe had the draft in his hand. That he will never have; for it has amonth to run, and before that France will have made me rich. It wasnot right, but the scoundrel only gave me half what the last farm wasworth, and I had to have more to finish my work. Yet, is it nothonourable even to sin in such a cause! Well, well, it is over now. Ihave triumphed, and that atones for all; and so to bed and gooddreams, and to-morrow to Paris!"

It was the 27th of January, the Kaiser's birthday, and thereception-rooms of the German Embassy, on the Nevski Prospekt,overlooking the snow-covered quays and ice-bound waters of the Neva,were filled with as brilliant a throng as could have been foundbetween the Ourals and the English Channel.

It has been said that Petersburg in the winter season contains morebeautiful women than any other capital in Europe; and certainly thefair guests of His Excellency the German Ambassador to the Court ofthe White Czar went far towards proving the truth of the saying. Thedresses were as ideal as they were indescribable, and the jewels whichblazed round the softly moulded throats and on the fair white breasts,and gleamed on dainty coiffures of every hue, from ebony black to thepurest flaxen, would have been bad to match even among the treasuresof Oriental princes.

The men, too, were splendid in every variety of uniform, from thegold-laced broadcloth of Diplomacy to the white and gold of theImperial Guard. Not a man was present whose left breast was notglittering with stars and medals, and, in most cases, crossed with theribbon of some distinguished Order.

The windless, frosty air outside was still vocal with the jingling ofthe sleigh-bells as the vehicles sped swiftly and noiselessly up tothe open doors, for it was only a little after ten, and all the guestshad not yet arrived. Precisely at half-past a sleigh drawn by threeperfectly black Orloff horses swept into the courtyard, and a fewminutes later the major-domo passed through the open folding-doors andsaid, in loud but well-trained tones:

"His Highness the Prince de Condé, Duc de Montpensier! Mademoiselle laMarquise de Montpensier!"

At the same moment two lacqueys held aside the heavy curtains whichhung on the inside of the doorway, and the latest arrivals entered.

The announcement of the once most noble names in Europe instantlyhushed the hum of conversation, and all eyes were turned towards thedoorway.

They saw a tall, straight, well-set-up man of about fifty, with darkmoustache and imperial, and iron-grey hair still thick and strong. Asingle glance at his features showed that they bore the indeliblestamp of the old Bourbon race. The high, somewhat narrow, forehead wascontinued in a straight line to the end of the long thin nose. Thesomewhat high cheek-bones, the delicate ears, the thin, sensitivenostrils, and the strong, slightly protruding chin, might havebelonged to the Grande Monarque himself.

He was in ordinary court dress, the broad red ribbon of the Order ofSt Vladimir crossed his breast, the collar and jewel of the GoldenFleece hung from his neck, and the stars of half-a-dozen other Ordersglittered on the left breast of his coat; but, though he bore thegreatest name in France, there was not a French order among them, forLouis Xavier de Condé was a voluntary exile from the land over whichhis ancestors had once ruled so splendidly and so ruinously.

For three generations his branch of the great family had refused torecognise any ruler in France, from the First Consul to the Presidentof the Third Republic. In his eyes they were one and all usurpers andplebeian upstarts, who ruled only by the suffrages of an ignorant anddeluded mob. In short, his creed and the rule of his daily life werehatred and contempt of the French democracy. On this subject he wasalmost a fanatic, and in days soon to come this fanaticism of his wasdestined to influence events, of which only three people in all thatcrowded assembly were even dreaming.

The girl at his side—for she was not yet twenty-one—might well havebeen taken for a twentieth-century replica of Marie Antoinette, and tosay that, is to say that among all the beautiful and stately women inthat brilliant concourse, none were quite so beautiful and stately asAdelaide de Condé, Marquise de Montpensier.

Of all the hundred eyes which were turned upon this peerless daughterof the line of St Louis, the most eager were those of asplendidly-built young fellow of about twenty-eight, dressed in theblue and white uniform of the Uhlan regiment of the German army.Captain Victor Fargeau, military attaché to the German Embassy inPetersburg, was perhaps the handsomest, and, at the same time,manliest-looking man in all that company of soldiers and diplomats. Atleast, so certainly thought Adelaide de Condé, as she saw his darkblue eyes light up with a swift gleam of admiration, and the bronze onhis cheeks grow deeper as the quick blood flushed beneath it.

It was a strange bond that united the daughter of the Bourbons withthe soldier and subject of the German Kaiser, and yet it must havebeen a close one. For, after the first formal presentations were over,her eyes sent a quick signal to his, which brought him instantly toher side, and when their hands met the clasp was closer, and lastedjust a moment longer than mere acquaintance or even friendship wouldhave warranted.

"Can you tell me, Captain, whether the gentleman who calls himself theFrench Ambassador has honoured us with his presence to-night?" saidthe Prince, as he shook hands with the young soldier.

"No, Prince, he has not," he replied. "I hear that, almost at the lastmoment, he sent an attaché with his regrets and excuses. Of course, asyou know, there is a little friction between the Governments just now,and naturally, too, he would know that Your Highness and Mam'selle laMarquise would honour us with your presence—so, on the whole, Isuppose he thought it more convenient to discover some importantdiplomatic matter which would deprive him of the pleasure of joiningus."

"Ah," said the Marquise, looking up at him with a glance and a smilethat set his pulses jumping, "then perhaps Sophie Valdemar was rightwhen she told me this afternoon that His Excellency had really a goodexcuse for not coming—an interview with Count Lansdorf, andafterwards with no less a personage than the Little Father himself!And, you know, Sophie knows everything."

"Ah yes," said the Prince; "I had forgotten that. You told me of it. Ishould not wonder if the subject of their conversation were notunconnected with an increase of the French fleet in Chinese waters.And then Morocco is——"

"Chut, papa!" said the Marquise, in a low tone, "we must not talkpolitics here. In Petersburg ceilings have eyes and walls have ears."

"Pardon me a moment," he said to his companions; "I am wanted forsomething, and I can see a good many envious eyes looking this way.Ah, there goes the music! They will be dancing presently, and therewill be many candidates for Mam'selle's hand. But you will keep me awaltz or two, won't you? and may I hope also for supper?"

"My dear Victor," she replied, with a bewildering smile, "have I notalready told you that you may hope for everything? Meanwhile,aurevoir! When you have done your business you will find us in thesalon."

As he moved away, the curtains were again drawn aside, and themajor-domo announced:

The Count was a big, strongly-built man in diplomatic uniform. Hisface was of the higher Russian type, and heavily bearded. Hisdaughter, the Countess Sophie, was a strange contrast to him, slightand fair, with perfectly cut features, almost Grecian in theirregularity, golden-bronze hair, dark, straight eyebrows, and big,wide-set, pansy-blue eyes. The only Russian trait that she possessedwas her mouth—full-lipped and sensuous, almost sensular, in fact; andyet it was small enough, and the lips were so daintily shaped that itadded to, rather than detracted from her beauty.

They were lips whose kisses had lured more than one bearer of awell-known name to destruction. Some they had sent to the scaffold,and others were still dreaming of their fatal sweetness in prison orin hopeless exile; for Sophie Valdemar, daughter of Count LeoValdemar, Chief of the Third Section of the Ministry of the Interior,had been trained up from girlhood by her father in every art ofintrigue, until even he was fully justified in calling her the mostskilful diplomatic detective in Europe.

To her friends and acquaintances she was just a charming andbrilliantly-accomplished girl of nineteen, who had reigned asundisputed Queen of Beauty in Moscow and Petersburg until Adelaide deCondé had come from Vienna with her father, and, by some mysteriousmeans, unknown even to her, had been received into instant favour atCourt, and in the most exclusive circles in the most exclusive city inthe world. In fact, the enigma which it was the present object of herlife to solve was how this could be possible—granted the tacitalliance between the Russian Empire and the French Republic, and thePrince's openly expressed contempt for all modern things French andRepublican. There were, indeed, only three people in Europe who couldhave solved that riddle, and she was not one of them.

As she entered she saw Victor coming towards her. Instantly her eyesbrightened, and the faintest of flushes showed through the pallor ofher silken skin. He stopped for a moment to greet them, but his claspon her hand was nothing more than the formal pressure which friendshipexpects, and she looked in vain for any gleam in his eyes answeringthat in her own.

When he had passed in towards the door she flung a swift glance roundthe room, and as the soft pansy eyes rested on the exquisite shape andlovely face of Adelaide de Condé they seemed to harden and blacken forjust the fraction of a second. The next moment she and her father weregreeting the Prince and the Marquise with a cordiality that was onlytempered by the almost indefinable reserve which the place and thesituation made indispensable.

"My dear Marquise," she said, in that soft, pure French which, outsideFrance, is only heard in Russia, "if possible, you have excelledyourself to-night; you are a perfect vision——"

"My dear Sophie," laughed the Marquise, "what is the matter? You seemas formal as you wish to be flattering; but really, if it is a matterof compliments, it is not you, but I who should be paying them."

"Quite a waste of time, my dear children," laughed the Count, gruffly."Imagine you two paying each other compliments when there are a coupleof hundred men here with thousands of them crowding up to their lips.Still, Prince," he went on, "it is better so than rivalry, for rivalbeauty has always worked more harm in the world than rival ambitions."

"There can be no question of rivalry, my dear Count," replied thePrince. "Why should the Evening envy the Morning, or the Lily bejealous of the Rose?"

"Put like a Frenchman and a statesman, Prince: that was said as onlyone of the old regime could say it," said Sophie, with a littlebackward movement of her head. "How is it that the men of thisgeneration never say things like that—or, if they try to, bungle overit."

"Perhaps they are too busy to revive the lost art of politeness,"laughed Adelaide. "But come, papa; they are playing a lovely waltz,and I am dying for a dance, and so is Sophie, I daresay."

"And, by their looks, many of these young men are dying of the samecomplaint; so suppose we go into the salon," said the Prince, offeringhis arm to Sophie.

It was nearly half-an-hour before Victor found Adelaide disengaged inthe ball-room. The first waltz that she had saved for him was justbeginning, and, as he slipped his arm round her waist, he whisperedunder cover of the music:

"If you please, we will just take a couple of turns, and then you willgive me a few precious minutes of your company in the winter garden."

She glanced up swiftly at him with a look of keen inquiry, andwhispered in reply:

"Of course, my Victor, if you wish it; especially as it is getting alittle warm here—and no doubt you have something more interesting forme than dancing."

"I think you will find it so," he said, as they glided away into theshining, smoothly-swirling throng which filled the great salon.

After two or three turns they stopped at the curtained entrance of thevast conservatory, whose tropical trees and flowers and warm scentedair formed a delicious contrast to the cold, black, Russian winter'snight. Almost at the same moment Sophie Valdemar said to her partner,a smart young officer of the Imperial Guard:

"I think that will do for the present, if you don't mind; I don't feelvery vigorous to-night, somehow: suppose you find me a seat in thegarden, and then go and tell one of the men to bring me an ice."

They stopped just as Victor and Adelaide passed through the curtains.They followed a couple of yards behind them, and Sophie quickened herstep a little, her teeth came together with a little snap, and hereyes darkened again as she saw Adelaide look up at her companion andheard her say softly:

"Ah," said Adelaide, with a little catch in her voice, "from him; andhas he——"

"Succeeded? Yes; and to the fullest of his expectations. He goes toParis to-morrow, and then——"

Her companion found her a seat under a tree-fern, and left her leaningback in her long-cushioned chair of Russian wicker, looking across thewinter garden, through the palms and ferns, at Victor and Adelaide, asthey moved along, obviously looking for a secluded corner. Duringthose few moments her whole nature had, for the time being, completelychanged. The jealous, passionate woman had vanished, and in her placeremained the cold, clear-headed, highly-trained intriguer, withincarnate and unemotional intellect, thinking swiftly and logically,trying to find some meaning in the words that she had just heard,words which, if she had only known their import, she would have foundpregnant with the fate of Europe.

"I wonder who has succeeded beyond his best expectations? Someoneclosely connected with both of them, of course! And Paris—why shouldhis success take him to Paris? Victor Fargeau, Alsatian though he is,is one of the most brilliant of the younger generation of Germanofficers, a favourite of the Emperor, a member of the Staff, andattaché here in Petersburg. And she, my dear friend and enemy, is aBourbon, an aristocrat of the first water, the daughter of an openenemy of our very good and convenient ally the French Republic.Paris—he who has succeeded is going to Paris. Well, I would give agood deal to know who he is and why he is going to Paris."

"And so, Monsieur le Ministre, I am to take that as your final word? Ihave given you every proof that I can—saving the impossible—thebringing of my apparatus from Strassburg to Paris, which, of course,you know is an impossibility, since it would have to cross thefrontier, which was once a French high road. I have shown you thefacts, the figures, the drawings—everything. Can you not see that Iam honest, that I love my country, from which I have been torn away—Iwho come from a family that has lived in Alsace since it was firstFrench territory—I who am a Frenchman through five generations—I whohave sold my son to the Prussians—I who have masqueraded for years inthe Prussian University of Strassburg, once the Queen of the RhineProvince—I who have discovered a secret which has lain buried sincethe days of the great Faraday—I who have discovered, or I should sayre-discovered, after him the true theory, and, what is more, theactual working of the magnetic tides which flow north and souththrough the two hemispheres to the pole—I who can give you, Monsieurle Ministre, and through you France, the control of those tides, sothat you may make them ebb and flow as the tides of the seado—prosperity with the flow, adversity with the ebb, that is what itcomes to—ah, it is incredible!

"Once more, not as a scientist, not as an inventor, but only as aloyal son of France, let me implore you, Monsieur le Ministre, not toregard what I have told you as the dream of an enthusiast who has onlydreamt and not done."

"If you have done as much as you say, Monsieur," replied the FrenchMinister of War, leaning back in his chair and twisting up the leftpoint of his moustache as he looked coldly and incredulously acrosshis desk at Doctor Emil Fargeau, late Professor of Physical Science atthe University of Strassburg, "how comes it that you have not beenable to bring actual, tangible proofs to me here in Paris? Why, forinstance, could you not have performed the miracle that you have justbeen telling me about in one of our laboratories in Paris? If you haddone that—well, we might have investigated the miracle, and, afterinvestigation, might have some conviction—a conviction, if you willpardon me saying so, which might have enabled us to overcome the verynatural prejudice that the Government of the Republic may be expectedto have against a man of ancient family, whose ancestors had beenFrench subjects for, as you say, five generations, but who has becomehimself a German subject, and has permitted his son, his only son, toenter the Prussian service, and has endured the shame of seeing himrise year after year, rank upon rank, in the favour of the man who isdestined to be to Germany what the Great Napoleon was to France.

"No, sir, I cannot believe you; I can understand what you have told meabout what you call your invention, but understanding withoutconviction is like hunger without a good dinner. I am not satisfied.Bring your apparatus here; let me see it work. Convince me that youcan do what you say, and all that you ask for is yours; but withoutconviction I can guarantee you nothing.

"With every consideration that is due to the position that you haveoccupied in what may be called the enemy's country, the stolenprovinces, I must take leave to say that very few days pass without aninterview of this kind. I assure you, my dear sir, that saviours ofour country and regainers of the Lost Provinces are to be counted byhundreds, but we have not yet found one whose scheme is capable ofsustaining a practical test."

"But, Monsieur le Ministre, I can assure you with equal faith thatthis is not a scheme, a theory, a something in the air. On thecontrary, it is a theory reduced to fact—solid fact; what I have saidto you I can do before you. I can convince you——"

"Exactly, my dear sir, exactly," said the Minister; "you will notthink me discourteous if I say that within the last six months I havehad visits from inventors of air-ships who could create aerial navieswhich would assume the dominion of the air, annihilate armies andfleets, and make fortifications useless because impotent. Others havecome to me with plans which, if the theory could only have beentranslated into practice, would have given us a submarine navy whichin six months would have sunk every cruiser and battleship on theocean. In fact, in one of the drawers of this very bureau I have amost exactly detailed scheme for diverting the Gulf Stream through themuch-lamented Panama Canal into the Pacific, and so reducing theBritish Islands, the home of our ancient enemies, to the conditions—Imean, of course, the climatic conditions, of Labrador. That is to say,that nine months in the year London, Southampton, Plymouth, Liverpool,Glasgow, to say nothing of the ports on the east and the south, wouldbe frozen up. The British Navy—that curse of the world—could notoperate; Britain's shipping trade would be paralysed, and after thather industries. They are free-traders, and so they don't believe it;but it would be if it could be done. But it could not be done,Monsieur; and that is the objection which I have to this mostsplendidly promising scheme of yours."

"But, Monsieur le Ministre, I assure that it is only a questionof—well, I will say a few thousand francs to convince you that I amnot one of those scientific adventurers who have perhaps imposed onthe credulity of the Government before. What I have described to youis the truth—the truth as I have wrought it by my own labour, as Ihave seen it with my own eyes, as I have finished it with my ownhand."

"Tres bien, Monsieur! Then all you have to do is, as I said before, tobring your apparatus here, perform the same experiment before acommittee of experts, and if you break the piece of steel as you woulda piece of glass—voila, c'est fini! We are convinced, and what youask for will be granted."

"But, Monsieur le Ministre, nothing could be fairer than that; onlyyou have not remembered what I told you during our last interview. Ihave spent hundreds of thousands of francs to bring this idea of mineto perfection. I have spent every centime——"

"Pfennige I think you should call them, Professor," interrupted theMinister, with a perceptible sneer. "I am afraid you are forgettingyour new nationality; and, since you are a German subject, living inGerman territory, as it now is, it is permissible for me to ask whythis wonderful invention of yours was not offered first toGermany—that is to say, if it has not already been offered andrefused."

As the Minister of War spoke these few momentous words, accentuatingthem with his pen on the blotting-pad in front of him, Doctor Fargeauarose from his seat on the other side of the desk, and said, in avoice which would have been stronger had it not been broken by anuncontrollable emotion:

"Monsieur le Ministre, you have spoken, and, officially, the matter isfinished. Through you I have offered France the Empire of the World.Through you France has refused it. You ask me to bring my apparatushere to Paris, to prove that it is a question of practice, not oftheory. I cannot do it, and why?—because, as I told you, I have spentevery centime, or pfennige, if you like, in making this thingpossible.

"Everything is gone: the farms and vineyards that have been ours sincethe days of St Louis are mortgaged. We are homeless. I have no home togo back to. I have borrowed more than I can pay; I trusted everythingto you, to the intelligence and patriotism of France. I have not evenenough money to take me back to the home that I have ruined for thesake of France and her lost provinces. It was impossible to think thatyou would disbelieve me. A thousand francs, Monsieur le Ministre,would be enough—enough to save me from ruin, and to make France themistress of the world. Even out of your own pocket, it would not bevery much. Think, I implore you, of all that I have suffered andsacrificed; of all the hours that I have spent in making this greatideal a reality——"

"And which, if you will excuse me saying so, monsieur," replied theMinister, rising rather sharply from his seat, "has yet to be provedto our satisfaction, to be a concrete reality instead of a dream—thedream of an enthusiast who does not even possess the credit of havingremained a Frenchman. If, indeed, your personal necessities are sopressing, and a fifty-franc note would be of any use to you—well,seeing that you were once a Frenchman——"

As he said this the Minister took his pocket-book out, and, as he didso, Doctor Fargeau sprang from his seat, and said, in quick, huskytones:

"Mais, non, Monsieur le Ministre! I came here not to ask for charity,but to give France the dominion of the world. Those whom she haschosen as her advisers have treated me either as a lunatic or a quack.Very well, let it be so. Through you I have offered to France apriceless gift; you have refused it for the sake of a paltry thousandfrancs or so. Very well, you will see the end of this, though I shallnot. I have devoted my life to this ideal. I have dreamt the dream ofFrance the Mistress of the World, as she was in the days of la GrandeMonarque. I have found the means of realising the ideal. You and thosewho with you rule the destinies of France have refused to accept mystatements as true. On your heads be it, as the Moslems say. I havedone. If this dream of mine should ever be heard of again, if itshould ever be realised, France may some day learn how much she haslost through her official incredulity."

Emil Fargeau left the Minister of War a broken man—broken in mind andheart as well as in means. In youth it is easy, in early manhood it ispossible, to survive the sudden destruction of a life's ideal; butwhen the threescore years have been counted, and the dream and thelabours of half a lifetime are suddenly brought to nought, it isanother matter. It is ruin—utter and hopeless; and so it was withEmil Fargeau.

He had risked everything on what he had honestly believed to be thecertainty of his marvellous discovery being taken up and developed bythe French Government. In fact, he was so certain of it, that, beforeleaving his laboratory at Strassburg, he had taken the precaution todestroy the essential parts of his accumulator, lest, during hisabsence, his sanctum might be invaded and some one stumble by accidenton his discovery. In a word, he had staked everything and losteverything. To go back was impossible. Everything he had was sold ormortgaged. He had been kept by official delays more than a fortnightin Paris, and he had barely a hundred francs left, and even of thismore than half would be necessary to pay his modest hotel bill for theweek.

And then, worse than all, there was that fatal indiscretion into whichhe had permitted his enthusiasm to betray him—an indiscretion whichplaced him absolutely at the mercy of a German Jew money-lender, who,under the rigid laws of Germany, could send him to penal servitude forthe rest of his life.

No, there was no help for it; there was only one way out of theterrible impasse into which his enthusiasm, and that moral weaknesswhich is so often associated with great intellectual power, had ledhim, and that way he took.

He went back to his hotel, and spent about an hour in writing letters.One of these was directed to Captain Victor Fargeau, German Embassy,Petersburg. Another was directed to Reuss Weinthal, Judenstrasse,Strassburg. The third, without date or signature, he placed in alittle air-tight tin case, with the complete specifications of hisdiscovery.

He took off his coat and waistcoat, and fastened this to his body sothat it just came in the small of his back. Then, when he had dressedhimself and put on a light overcoat, he took a small handbag, forappearance's sake, walked to the Nord Station, and took a second-classticket to Southampton,via le Havre.

At midnight the steamer was in mid-channel, and Emil Fargeau wastaking his last look on sea and sky from the fore-deck. For a momenthe looked back eastward over the dark waters towards the land of hisruined hopes, and murmured brokenly:

"My beautiful France, I have offered you the Empire of the World, butthe dolts and idiots you have chosen to govern you have refused it.'Tant pis pour toi'! Now I will give the secret to the Fates—toreveal it or to keep it hidden for ever, as they please. For me it isthe end!"

As the last words left his lips he took a rapid glance round thedeserted deck, and slipped over the rail into the creaming water thatwas swirling past the vessel's side. In another moment one of thewhirling screws had caught him and smashed him out of human shape, andwhat was left of him, with the little tin box containing the secretsof a world-empire lashed to it, went floating away in the broad wakethat the steamer left behind it.

It was a lovely May morning on the English Channel, and the steamyachtNadine was travelling under easy steam at about eightknots an hour midway between Guernsey and Southampton. Her owner,Ernest Shafto Hardress, Viscount Branston, eldest son of the Earl ofOrrel, was taking his early coffee on the bridge with his college chumand guest, Frank Lamson, M.A. of Cambridge, and Doctor of Science ofLondon, the youngest man save one who had won the gold medal in theexamination for that distinguished degree. In fact, he was onlythirty-two, and the medal had already been in his possession nearly ayear.

The morning was so exquisitely mild, that sea and sky looked rather asthough they were in the Mediterranean instead of the Channel. Theywere sitting in their pyjamas, with their bare feet in grass slippers.

"Well, I suppose it's time to go below and shave and dress; MissChrysie and Lady Olive will be up soon, and we'll have to makeourselves presentable," said Lamson, getting out of his deck-chair andthrowing the end of his cigarette overboard. "Hello, what's that?Here, Hardress, get up! There's a body there in the water, horriblymangled."

"What!" exclaimed Hardress, springing from his seat and going to theend of the bridge where Lamson was standing. "So it is! Poor chap,what can have made such a mess of him as that?"

"Fallen overboard from a steamer, I should say, and got mopped by thescrew," said Lamson, in his cold, bloodless voice. "It's a way screwshave, you know, especially twin screws."

"That's just like you, Lamson," said Hardress; "you talk about thepoor chap just as if he was an empty barrel. Still, he's been a manonce, and it's only fair that he should have Christian burial,anyhow."

As he said this he caught the handle of the engine telegraph andpulled it over. "Stop." The yacht slowed down immediately, and he wenton:

"Lamson, you might go and send the stewardess to tell the ladies notto get up for half-an-hour or so. This isn't exactly the sort of job awoman wants to see. Mr Jackson, will you kindly lower away thequarter-boat?"

The young Viscount was right—for the object that was hauled in fromthe sea could hardly even be called a human corpse, so frightfully wasit mangled out of all mortal shape. When it was brought on board, acareful search was made through the tattered remnants of clothing thatwere still attached to it for some marks of identification; butnothing was found. A couple of pockets, one in the waistcoat and onein the trousers which were left intact, contained nothing. There wasno mark on what was left of the linen. The upper half of the head wasgone, and so there was no use in photographing the remains. In short,the ghastly spectacle was the only revelation of a secret of the seawhich might never be further revealed.

"I'm afraid it's no good," said Lamson; "there's nothing that anybodycould recognise the poor chap by. In fact, it looks to me like a caseof deliberate suicide by someone who didn't want to be identified.He's evidently fallen overboard from a steamer, and people don't dothat by accident with empty pockets. For instance, that inside coatpocket was made to button, and would probably have had a pocket-bookand tickets in it. From what's left of them I should say the clotheswere French, and, judging by the locality, I should say he might havebeen a French passenger from le Havre—perhaps to Southampton on oneof the South-Western boats. Hello, what's this? Perhaps this is a clueto the mystery."

As he spoke he put his hand on the back of the body, where the soddenclothes outlined an oblong shape, a few moments after it had beenturned over.

"It feels like a box, or something of that sort. At any rate, we'dbetter see what it is," he went on, taking a sheath-knife from one ofthe sailors and ripping the cloth open. "Tied to the body. By Jove!Why, this is mystery on mystery! Nothing in his pockets, no mark onhis linen or clothes, and this thing tied to his body! Well, I supposewe may as well see what there is in it; and as you're the owner of theyacht and Deputy-Lieutenant of your county, I suppose I'd better handit over to you."

As he said this he cut the cords and handed the tin box to ViscountBranston, who said as he took it:

"Of course, we shall have to open it, and we'll do it together afterbreakfast. Now, Mr Jackson, oblige me by having the body sewn up in abit of canvas. I don't want the ladies to see it in that horriblestate. And you may as well put on full speed; we don't want it onboard any longer than we can help. Now, Lamson, come along and dress."

When they came out of their state-rooms they found the ladies alreadyon deck, taking an ante-prandial stroll arm-in-arm. Lady Olive was atall, perfectly-proportioned young woman of about twenty-five, notexactly pretty, but with a dark, strong, aristocratic face, whichshowed breeding in every line, and which was lighted up and relievedmost pleasantly by a pair of soft, and yet brilliant, Irish eyes. Whenher features were in repose, some people would have called herhandsome; when she smiled, others would have called her, not pretty,but charming—and they would have been about right.

Her companion, Miss Chrysie Vandel, daughter of Clifford K. Vandel,President of the American Electrical Storage Trust of Buffalo, N.Y.,was an absolute contrast to her. She was about an inch shorter,exquisitely fair, and yet possessed of a pair of deep blue eyes, whichin some lights looked almost black. Her brows were several shadesdarker than her hair, which was golden in the sun and brown in theshade. She was not what a connoisseur would call beautiful, for herfeatures were just a trifle irregular, and her mouth was just ever solittle too large. Still, taken as a whole, her face had thatdistracting and indescribable piquancy which seems to be the peculiarproperty of the well-bred American girl at her best.

Both were dressed in grey serge, short-skirted yachting suits, andeach had a white duck yachting cap pinned to her hair.

"Well, Shafto," said Lady Olive, as the two men took their caps off,"and what is all this mystery about? Chrysie and I have beenspeculating all sorts of things."

"Why, yes, Lord Branston," chimed in Miss Chrysie. "I got out of mybath and fixed myself double quick, half expecting to come on deck andfind ourselves held up by a French torpedo-boat, after all that talkwe heard in Jersey about the trouble between you and France and Russiaover China."

"I am happy to say it is not quite so serious as that, Miss Vandel,"said Hardress, "and I hope we shall be able to get you safe toSouthampton before the war starts. The fact is, about an hour ago,while Lamson and I were having our coffee on the bridge, he saw—well,the body of a man, terribly mangled, floating in the water. So westopped to pick it up. It was frightfully mutilated, and, of course,it was nothing for eyes like yours to look upon, so we've had it sewnup in canvas, and we're taking it to Southampton to give it a decentburial."

"Now, I call that real good of you, Viscount. I guess you British havefiner feelings in that way than we have. I don't believe Poppa wouldhave stopped his yacht if he'd struck a whole burying lot afloat."

"Well," laughed Hardress; "that is what a busy man like your fathermight be expected to do. In fact, I suppose most Englishmen would havedone so; but, as it happens, in this case virtue was rewarded—for wehave discovered what may be a mystery."

"A mystery! Oh, do say, Viscount. That's just too lovely for words—ayacht, dead body at sea, and a mystery——"

"Yes," said Lamson; "and in a tin box, attached firmly by cords tocorpse aforesaid."

"Don't, Mr Lamson; please don't," interrupted Lady Olive, somewhatseverely. Then she went on, with a little shiver, "I hope, Shafto, youwill get us to Southampton as quickly as you can. I don't want to beshipmates any longer than I can help with—with—ah—remains. It isn'tlucky at sea, you know."

"My dear Olive," replied her brother, "about the first thing I thoughtof was that very idea; that is why we are now steaming fullspeed—twenty knots instead of eight—so that you and Miss Vandel maybe relieved of this disquieting presence on board as soon as possible.And now, by way of passing the inconvenient hours that our newpassenger will be with us, suppose we go to breakfast."

"A nice appetising sort of remark that, I must say, Viscount," saidMiss Chrysie; "still I suppose we may as well go. This morning air atsea does make living people feel alive; I guess that's why I'm sohungry."

"And after breakfast, Shafto," said Lady Olive, "I presume that youwill tell us all about the mystery of the tin box."

"My dear Olive," replied her brother, "it may be anything or nothing;and, as Lamson found it and gave it to me, instead of having it buriedwith the unknown deceased, I've agreed with him that we shall gothrough the contents, whatever they are, together; and, of course, ifthere's anything really interesting in them, then we shall tell youall about it."

"Now, that's real kind," said Miss Chrysie. "I guess if we don't havequite an interesting conversation over lunch it'll be the fault of ournew passenger."

"My dear Chrysie," said Lady Olive, frigidly, "how can you! Really,you remind me rather strongly of what Kipling says about theAmericans."

"And what might that be, Lady Olive?" she replied, looking up, withthe flicker of a smile round her lips, and the twinkle of a challengein her eyes.

"I don't think I remember the exact words just now, but I've got the'Seven Seas' downstairs," replied Lady Olive; "but I think it'ssomething about the cynic devil in his blood that bids him mock hishurrying soul."

"Thanks!" replied Miss Chrysie, with a toss of her shapely head, andan unmistakable sniff; "I think I've read that poem, too. Isn't therea verse in it that runs something this way?—

She repeated the lines with such an exquisite exaggeration of the"shrill accent" that the two men burst out laughing, and Lady Olivefirst flushed up to her brows, and then also broke into a saving fitof laughter.

"That's a distinct score for Miss Vandel, Olive," said Hardress. "Ifyou knew the whole poem a bit better, I don't think you'd have madethat last remark of yours. But, of course, Miss Vandel will begenerous and allow you to take the only way there is out of thedifficulty—the way to breakfast."

"Why, certainly," said Miss Chrysie, who was trying hard not to laughat her little triumph. "Kipling's good, but breakfast's better, in anair like this."

And so, as she would have put it, they "let it go at that," and wentdown into the saloon to breakfast.

During breakfast it had been agreed that Lamson, as the discoverer ofthe mysterious tin box, should open it by himself, and, afterexamining its contents, report on them to Hardress.

This was a speculative suggestion, made by Lady Olive, seconded byMiss Chrysie, and so, perforce, agreed to. And thus it came about thatall the essentials of Doctor Emil Fargeau's great discovery fell intothe hands of a man who, by virtue of imagination, intellect, andscientific training, was the one man in Europe, perhaps in the world,who could either use it or abuse it to the best or worst advantage.

He took the box into his cabin, and opened it as carelessly as thoughit might have contained a few old love letters, or the story of someobsolete Anarchist conspiracy. But as soon as he had read the firstpage of the closely-written manuscript, he got up from his chair andlocked the cabin door. As he went back to his seat, he caught aglimpse of his face in the mirror. It looked almost strange to him; sohe stopped and looked at it again.

"Good Lord!" he muttered, "is that me?" And then he said aloud: "Youinfernal scoundrel!"

He didn't go back to the little table on which the manuscript waslying. He looked at the pages as a man might look at a cheque that hehas just forged. His hand, which had never trembled before, trembledas he took his cigar-case out of his pocket; and as he lit the cigarhe could hardly hold the match steadily. He dropped full length on thesofa, looked sideways at the fatal sheets of paper on the table, blewa long stream of smoke up towards the port-hole, and began to talkwith his own soul.

"The Empire of the World. I've read enough to see that it comes tothat. Yes, Faraday was right; and so was this poor wretch that wefished out of the water this morning. A Frenchman, an Alsatian, whohas made the biggest discovery that ever was made, who has practicallyachieved a miracle, offers the result to his country and gets refused,and then, for some reason or other, commits it and his body to thedeep!

"Curious, very curious, from anything like a scientific point of view.What an infinite mercy it is for us, who have reason to believe thatwe possess a little brains, that the majority of men are fools, andthat the official person is usually a bigger fool than the man in thestreet. Now, suppose our unknown and deceased genius had put even thatfirst page that I have read before our good friend Clifford K. Vandelinstead of, I suppose, the French Minister of War. Jump—why, he'dhave got into it with both feet, as they say in the States. A manworth millions. Oh, millions be hanged! How many millions could buythat? Of course, that's one way of looking at it—but Frank Lamson, asI said before, you're in the way of becoming an infernal scoundrel.Perhaps I'd better interrupt this little monologue, and read the restof what our deceased genius has to say."

He reached out and took the papers off the table, and for an hourthere was silence in the cabin. He read the sheets over and overagain, making rapid mental calculations all the time. Then, after along look at the open port-hole over the sofa, he folded the sheetsup, and stuffed them into the hip-pocket of his trousers. Then he gotup, and looked at himself in the glass again.

"You scoundrel!" he whispered at the ghastly image of himself. "Youthief—you utter sweep—who would accept the hospitality of an oldcollege chum, and then, when the possibility of illimitable millions,when the empire of the earth, the means of enslaving the whole humanrace, the absolute control of every civilised Power on earth, getsfished up by accident out of the waters of the English Channel, youthink about robbing him of it. You are not fit to live, much lessto——"

He flung himself down on the sofa again, with his hands clasped hardover his brow, and there he remained, without moving a limb, until hewas called out of his waking dream by a rap on the cabin door and thesound of Hardress's voice saying:

"Come now, Lamson, buck up! Are you going to be all the morninggetting through that tin box? The women folk are on the point ofmutiny with curiosity to know what there is in it. Hurry up!" Andthen, with a sudden drop in the tone, "You're not ill, old man, areyou?"

"All right, Hardress," he replied, in a voice which, by a supremeeffort of will, he managed to keep steady. "I have had a bit of ashock—heart, I think. I wish you'd tell Evans to bring me abrandy-and-soda, will you?"

As he said this, he unlocked the cabin door, and as his host saw himhe exclaimed:

"My dear fellow, you do look bad; sit down, and I'll get you theB.-and-S. myself in a moment."

He disappeared, and Lamson sat down again on the sofa. Again he lookedup at the open port-hole. There were only a few moments left him nowto decide what might really be the fate of the human race. No man hadever been face to face with such a tremendous responsibility before.No mortal had ever passed through such a terrible temptation as he haddone during the last hour. Should he fling the priceless papers, thewarrant for the mastery of the world, into the sea and be done withit? Should he keep them in his pocket and make untold millions out ofthe power that they placed in his hands? After all, he had discoveredthis priceless treasure-trove. But for him it would have been buriedwith the hideous relics of humanity lying in the forward hold sewn upin a canvas sack. Was it not his by right? Did any human law compelhim to share it with anyone?

But, again, ought he or anyone else to be entrusted with such atremendous power for good or evil as this?—the power, literally, toreduce mankind to slavery. He was a man of average morals himself; hehad lived a clean, hard, studious life, and no man could say that hehad done him a mean action. Hardress, too, was well up to the highstandard of the British aristocracy—but his partner had married anAmerican girl—the daughter of a man who had made millions out ofrailway developments after the Civil War. He was either in love orfalling in love with the daughter of another American millionaire whohad made his millions out of electrical storage. The first thingHardress would do would be to take the papers over to America and putthem before him. Clifford Vandel would grasp their giganticpossibilities instantly, a trust, commanding millions of capital,would be formed, and the world would become an American dependency.

"Here you are, old man," said Hardress, coming into the cabin with along glass in his hand, "I've made it pretty stiff, because you lookas if you wanted it. Why, what's the matter?"

Lamson took the glass, and as he put it to his lips Hardress saw hishand tremble and heard the glass rattle against his teeth. He drainedit in two gulps, put it down on the table beside the sofa, threwhimself back on the cushions at the end, looked once more at the openport-hole with the fate of a world on his soul, and said in a shakingvoice:

"Why, my dear chap, what's up? You look positively ghastly," said theViscount, as he closed the door and locked it.

"I don't suppose you'd look much better if you'd spent an hour inhell, as I have."

"An hour in—Oh, come now, old fellow," Hardress interrupted, with alook which Lamson instantly interpreted as a query as to his sanity."Don't you think you'd better turn in for a bit? You really do lookill; just as if something had shaken you up very badly. Is it anythingto do with that infernal tin box?" he went on, pointing to it on thetable.

"Yes," said Lamson, pulling himself together with a struggle, andsitting up on the sofa. "I wish to heaven I hadn't got up just at thatmoment on the bridge and we'd left our unknown deceased to the mercyof the waves. But, even then, somebody else might have discovered it."

"Yes; and——Look here, Hardress, I've been horribly tempted—tempted,perhaps, as no other man ever was; but my father was a gentleman, andI'll do the straight thing. How would you like to be master of theworld?"

"Master of the—Oh, look here, Lamson, this won't do at all, you know.You're as pale as a ghost; your eyes are burning, and your hands areshaking. You must have got a touch of fever, or something of thatsort. Take a dose of quinine and turn in. We'll be at Southampton intwo or three hours, and then you can see a doctor."

Lamson laughed. It was a laugh that wouldn't have done anybody muchgood to hear, and Hardress shivered a little as he heard it.

"I see what you mean. You think I'm a bit off my head. To tell you thetruth, I almost wish I were, or that this infernal thing were only adream—nightmare, I should say."

"This," replied Lamson, putting his hand into his hip-pocket andpulling out some crumpled sheets of paper. "You thought I was mad whenI asked you if you'd like to be master of the world. When you've readthat you'll see that you can be. They're what I found in that tin box.There's no name or address or any mark of identification on them, butthey were written by a man, a Frenchman, who has discovered a means,as one might say, of soaking up all the electricity of the earth inone huge storage system, and then doling it out to the peoples of theearth like gas or water or electric light."

"Great Scott, what a gorgeous idea!" exclaimed Hardress, jumping fromhis seat and holding out his hand for the papers. "Why do you want toget ill over a thing like that, man? Don't you see there are millionsin it if it's true, and of course you'll come in on the ground-floor?Great Caesar's ghost! It'll be the very thing for old Vandel. TheMorgan Steel Trust won't be in it with this."

"I thought you'd say that," said Lamson. "That's the American bloodtalking in you. Now, I'll tell you candidly that I've only given youthose papers from a sense of honour and friendship. I admit that myfirst impulse was to throw them out of the port-hole; and my second,"he went on, after a little pause, "was to keep them to myself, andtell you some lie about the box being empty."

"You might have done the first, old man, but you couldn't have donethe second," replied Hardress, putting the papers into his hand."There, take them back; I don't suppose I should understand them.Anyhow, you can make a better use of them than I can; and if there'sanything in it we'll share alike. In fact, after all, the whole thingreally belongs to you, for if you hadn't discovered the body, it mighthave drifted around till it went down to feed the fishes. Really, Idon't see what there is to be so upset about in it."

"My dear fellow, hasn't it struck you yet," said Lamson, "that if thisdiscovery works out all right, as I'm certain it will, it will reallymean, as I said just now, the mastery of the world? For instance, toput the thing into a nut-shell: Here we are, on this seven-hundred-tonyacht of yours, steaming at a speed of eighteen or twenty knots,engines working smoothly, and so on. Now, if this man's scheme wereput into practice, theNadine would be, as I might say, forwant of a better word, electrolised. That is to say, every atom ofmetal in her would lose its tone; the boilers would burst, the enginesfly to pieces, and even the hull would splinter up into a thousandfragments, just as though she were made of glass, and she got hit witha hundred sledge-hammers at the same minute."

"Is that really so, Lamson? Are you quite serious?" said Hardress,gravely, for he was just beginning to grasp the enormous possibilitiesof the discovery. "Do you really mean to say that that is actuallyfeasible? Of course, I know what a swell you are at these subjects,and I don't suppose for a moment that you would say it if you didn'tbelieve it; but are you quite sure that your—well, that thisscientific imagination that I've heard you talk about hasn't run awaywith you?"

"My dear Hardress," replied Lamson, getting up from the couch, "thereis no imagination whatever about this. I can assure you it is just amatter of hard facts and figures. Whoever that poor fellow was thatwe're going to bury at Southampton, it's quite certain that the worldhas lost one of its most brilliant physical scholars. The man whodiscovered this scheme and worked it out in these papers was a secondNewton or Faraday. In short, I can tell you in all seriousness—I willpledge my reputation, such as it is—that, granted the necessarycapital, which would certainly run to a million or two, I could workthis scheme out myself. I could construct works that would mop up theelectricity out of the earth as a sponge takes water. I could changeclimates as I pleased. I could hurl my thunders where I chose like avery Jove. I could make myself arbiter of life and death on earth. Infact, I could be everything that a mortal ought not to be."

"There; I can't say that I quite agree with you," said Hardress."Personally, I can't see why a man shouldn't be all that he can be,and there's no reason why you and I and the governor and Chrysie's dadshouldn't syndicate this business and run the earth. You say it'spossible. That's good enough for me. We'll find the millions andyou'll find the brains, so we'll consider that settled. Fancy pickinga thing like that up out of the sea on a pleasure cruise! Talk aboutluck! Well, come along; let's go and break it as gently as we can tothe girls."

TheNadine had been lying for a fortnight in Southampton Water,and all that was mortal of the man who might have been master of theworld was resting in a nameless grave in the cemetery.

In the oak-panelled dining-room of Orrel Court, an old ramblingmansion, dating partly from Reformation times, and standing on thelower slopes of the South Downs overlooking the distant Solent, therewas a little dinner-party in the process of eating, drinking, andchatting, which was a good deal more pregnant with the fate of nationsthan many a Cabinet meeting.

At the head of the long, massive table sat a man of a little overfifty, tall and rather squarely built, and still erect. A man, stillhandsome and capable of attracting the attention and even theadmiration of many fair ladies, who would have been only too glad tooccupy the place at the other end of the table which was now occupiedby the owner of theNadine, for Harry Shafto Hardress, eighthEarl of Orrel, came of one of the oldest and proudest stocks in thecountry, and, thanks to the millions which his dead American wife hadbrought him, the broad, fat acres that he owned in half-a-dozencounties were absolutely unencumbered, and he possessed a personalfortune that yielded more than twice his goodly rent-roll.

Miss Chrysie Vandel sat at his right hand, and, next to her, DoctorLamson, faced by Lady Olive and a tall, angular, square-headed,keen-featured man of about the Earl's own age, with a heavy,well-trained, iron-grey, moustache, and an equally well-ordered,little tuft of hair on the square chin. This was Clifford K. Vandel,President of the Empire State Electric Storage and Transmission Trustof New York and Buffalo. He was commonly known throughout the Statesand Europe as the Lightning King; and he controlled not only the powerdistribution, but also the whole system of Etherography or wirelesstelegraphy throughout the Continent of North America.

He had come over post-haste from New York in response to an urgentcable from Lord Orrel. He was an uncle of the late Lady Orrel, and heand the Earl had already done a good deal of business together on bothsides of the Atlantic. The cablegram had contained the words "urgentbusiness," so he had taken the first available steamer and arrived inSouthampton that afternoon.

During dinner only ordinary topics had been touched upon, but when thecloth was removed and the butler, with a ceremonious care that wasalmost reverential, had placed the ancient decanters and jugscontaining the port and claret and Madeira, for which the cellars ofOrrel Court had long been famous, his lordship told him that they werenot to be disturbed until he rang; and, when the door had closedbehind him, he said:

"Well, now, Vandel, we can talk. Miss Chrysie, a glass of port—allowme—and, if you will, pass the decanter. Mr Lamson, this is the sameseal as before. Olive, you will make the coffee later on, won't you,in that patent concern of yours? You certainly do it much better thanthey do downstairs; and I don't see why for once we shouldn't have oursmoke here, since our—what is it they say?—revolting daughters bothindulge."

"Revolted, if you don't mind, my lord," remarked Miss Chrysie acrossher wine-glass. "Though I don't see much what Olive and I want torevolt for; and I guess if two girls ever had more easily managedpoppas they'd be curiosities. What do you say poppa? You haven't triedto run me much, have you?"

The iron-faced man of millions, the commander-in-chief of armies ofhand and brain workers, the ruthless wrecker of industries which stoodin the way of the realisation of his gigantic schemes, lookedsmilingly at the living likeness of his dead wife, and said, with thatsoft intonation and hardly perceptible accent which evidenced his oldSouthern descent:

"Well, Chrysie, I don't know that either of you ever wanted very muchrunning; and as for smoking, well, your mothers and grandmothers didit down South two generations ago, and I guess what was good enoughfor the South in those days is good enough for anywhere else."

From which speech it may be gathered that Clifford Kingsley Vandel wasone of those Americans who, although he had come in with the Union,and made many millions out of it, still cherished the traditions ofthe old Southern aristocracy. In fact, in his heart of hearts, no man,saving only perhaps Louis Xavier de Condé and his present host, had agreater contempt for all democratic institutions than he had; acontempt which is amply shared by nine out of ten of the dollardespots of the great Republic.

He helped himself to a glass of the pale ruby-coloured port, andpassed the decanter to Hardress. Lady Olive was taking claret.

"And now," said Lord Orrel, raising his glass, "suppose we begin inthe good old-fashioned way. Here's success to the Storage Trust andall its future developments."

"Which, from what I've heard of them, will be big and go far," saidthe Lightning King.

"Even unto the running of the earth, and all that therein is. Is thatgood American, Chrysie?"

"Not quite," she laughed, in reply. "I must say that your ladyshipseems to have considerable difficulty in picking up the Americanlanguage. However, the sentiment's all right, so we'll let it go atthat. What do you say, Doctor? Somehow you don't seem quite asenthusiastic about this as a man who knows everything might be."

"If a man knew everything, Miss Vandel," replied Lamson, rathergravely, "he would probably be enthusiastic about nothing. Still, Iconfess that, as I said at first on board the yacht, I do look uponthis scheme, splendid and all as it is, and perfectly feasible fromthe scientific point of view, as something just a little too splendidfor human responsibility. After all, you know, to make oneself thearbiter of human destiny, supreme lord of earth and air, dispenser oflife and death, health and sickness, is what is popularly described asa somewhat large order."

"Well," chimed in Miss Chrysie, "I guess if it enables you to reformthe British climate, by way of a start, and give this unhappy countrysome weather instead of just a lot of ragged-edged samples, you'll notbegin badly."

"And if we can also do something with the furious, untamed, Americanblizzard," laughed Hardress, nodding at her over his glass, "we shallalso confer a certain amount of blessing upon a not inconsiderableproportion of the Anglo-Saxon race. What's your idea, Mr Vandel?"

"We could do about as well without them as London could do withoutfog, or the British farmer do without a week of January shifted oninto May," replied the Lightning King. "I've often thought that asyndicate which could control the British climate, and educate yourfarmers and railroads into something like commonsense, would makequite big money. Maybe that's what we'll do later on."

"An excellent idea," laughed Lord Orrel. "I have suffered from both ofthem—as well as from our free-trading amateur politicians who make itas expensive for me to bring a ton of my own wheat from Yorkshire toLondon as to import a ton of yours from Chicago. However, we shall beable to alter that later on. And now, suppose Olive brews the coffee,and we have a cigar, and then, perhaps, Mr Lamson will oblige us byshedding the light of his knowledge on the subject before the meeting.I suppose, Mr Lamson, you have not found, on more mature study of thequestion, that there are any serious objections to the scheme, saving,of course, the one which your modesty has created?"

"No, Lord Orrel," he replied, with one of his grave smiles. "Duringthe last week or so I have worked out, I think, every possibledevelopment of the scheme, and I am bound to say that the unknowngenius whom we buried the other day has left nothing to chance. Thereis not even a speculation. Everything is fact, figure, anddemonstration. Given the capital, and the concessions from theCanadian Government, there does not appear to me the remotest chanceof failure. The ultimate consequences of putting the scheme intopractice are, of course, quite another affair—but on that subject youalready have my opinion."

"My dear Lamson," said Hardress, "that, if you will pardon me sayingso, is merely one of the characteristic failings of the scientificintellect. It has too much imagination, and therefore looks too farahead."

"I'm with you there, Viscount," said the Lightning King. "This is justa question of dollars first, last, and all the time. Of course, we'vegot to see the other side of it; but we're not concerned much withwhat there is beyond—or back of beyond, for that matter. So, aspractical men, we'll just respect the doctor's scruples all theydeserve, and take all the help he can give us."

"Exactly," said Lord Orrel; "you put the case with your usualterseness, Vandel. And now, if you won't have any more wine, Olivewill give us some coffee, and we may light up and get to business."

"And, Lamson, you will consider yourself on deck for the present,"added Hardress. "I can see that Mr Vandel is just dying to know thedetails, in spite of that cast-iron self-control of his."

"My dear Viscount," laughed the multi-millionaire, "I'm among friends,and I'm not controlling any just now. Still, I'll admit that I'm justabout as anxious to know the details of this scheme as Chrysie was totry on her first ball-dress, and that was no small circumstance, Itell you."

"I should think not," laughed Lady Olive. "There's only one thing moreimportant in life than that, and that's a wedding-dress. But if thesepeople are going to immerse themselves in facts and figures, Chrysie,suppose we have our coffee up in my room. I want to have a good talkwith you about the presentation dresses."

"An even more weighty subject," laughed Hardress, "than thewedding-dress—which may never be worn. I mean, of course——"

"I guess I wouldn't try and explain, Viscount," said Miss Chrysie, asshe got up and went towards the door. "Wasn't it your LordBeaconsfield who said that the most dreary duty of humanity wasexplanation? Reckon you'll find it pretty dreary work explaining thatremark away."

Hardress looked distinctly uncomfortable, for there was a flush onMiss Chrysie's cheeks, and a glint in her eyes which, although theymade her look distractingly pretty, were not of great promise to him.

"My dear Shafto," laughed Lady Olive, as Lamson opened the door forthem, "don't attempt it. A man who could make a remark like that couldnot possibly improve the situation by an apology."

With that they disappeared, and Lamson shut the door. When he got backto his seat he took a lot of papers out of the breast-pocket of hiscoat, put his plate aside, laid them on the table, and said:

"Well, then, since I am in the chair, I may as well get to business.As Mr Vandel has not yet been made fully acquainted with the detailsof the scheme, perhaps it will be as well if I begin at thebeginning."

"Quite so," said Lord Orrel, with a nod; "and your kindness will havethe additional effect of refreshing my own memory, which, I mustadmit, is not a particularly good one for technicalities."

Then Doctor Lamson began, and for a couple of hours or so expoundedwith every possible exactness of detail the discovery made by the manwhose mangled remains had been picked up by theNadine inmid-Channel, and which might have made France mistress of the world.

When he had finished, they went into the library, where they werejoined by Lady Olive and Miss Chrysie, and the conversation graduallydrifted away into topics more socially interesting, but of lessimperial importance. But when Clifford Kingsley Vandel went to bedthat night he spent half-an-hour or more walking up and down his big,thickly-carpeted bedroom, with his hands clasped behind his back, hiseyes fixed on the floor, and his lips shaping inarticulate words whichwould have been worth millions to anyone who could have heard them.Then he stopped his promenade, undressed, and got into bed, and justbefore he dismissed the whole subject from his perfectly-trainedintellect and addressed himself to the necessary business of sleep, hesaid:

"Well, that's just about the biggest scheme that mortal man ever had achance of bringing to a head; and I guess we'll do it. Masters of theworld, givers of life or death, lords of the nations, makers of peaceor war as we please! That's so, and now, Clifford Vandel, I have thehonour to wish you a very good night—a very good night indeed—aboutthe best night you've ever had."

And then the masterful brain ceased working, like an engine from whichthe steam had been shut off, and he fell asleep as quickly and aspeacefully as a little child.

Miss Chrysie's European visit had come to an end, and she and herfather had accepted Hardress's invitation to take a trip home in theNadine. Doctor Lamson was also a guest on board, and during thetrip many of the details of the great scheme were exhaustivelydiscussed. Each of the three men was going on a special mission.Clifford Vandel had definitely accepted the position of president andgeneral financial and business manager of the International MagneticControl Syndicate, as the newly-formed company had been provisionallynamed. He was going to the States to do the necessary financial partof the work, buy up rights and patents which might be necessary to thefurtherance of the scheme, and to perfect the organisation of thegreat combine of which he was president—a combine whose influence wasnow to extend not only over the United States, but over the wholeworld.

Doctor Lamson was going to make a personal study of the electricalmachinery to be found in the States, so that he might be in a positionto design the great storage works to the best advantage and with thegreatest possible economy of time and money.

Hardress, armed with introductions from the highest official sourcesin England, was going northward, after leaving his guests at New York,to Montreal, to obtain a lease of a few square miles of the desolate,ice-covered wilderness of Boothia Felix, which, as a glance at the mapwill show you, is the most northerly portion of the mainland of theAmerican continent. Further, in its scanty history, you may read thatthere Sir John Ross discovered the magnetic pole of the earth, andnamed the wilderness after his friend Sir Felix Booth, who hadfurnished most of the funds for his expedition.

His ostensible object in obtaining the lease was the foundation of anobservatory for the examination of magnetic and electrical phenomena;one of which was the possible solution of the so far unsolved riddleof the Northern Lights. He also stated to the Dominion authorities, byway of giving something like a practical air to his mission, that aremoter possibility of the scheme was the establishment of a magneticcentre for a world-wide system of wireless telegraphy.

The few square miles of ice and snow and rock were absolutelyworthless, and so the Dominion Government had not the slightesthesitation in accepting his offer of a thousand a year for ten yearsfor the exclusive use and possession of the peninsula, with right toimport materials, construct works, and do whatever might be necessaryfor the development of the scheme.

If he had not been the heir to an ancient peerage and the son of oneof the wealthiest men in England, he would probably have been lookedupon as a harmless crank who was wanting to lose his money in a vainattempt to harness the electrical energy displayed in theAuroraborealis and make thunderstorms to order out of it. As it was, hewas treated indulgently as a man who had big ideas, and who wasconducting at his own expense a great scientific experiment which hecould very well afford to pay for.

Thus, after very brief negotiations, consisting of one or twointerviews, two or three dinners, and the handing over of a cheque,the Canadian Government in all innocence parted with what was soon toprove the most precious piece of land, not only on the AmericanContinent, but in the whole world.

But this was not the only concession that Shafto Hardress took back toEngland with him. For when he returned to New York and took a run upto Buffalo on the Empire State Express, with the lease of Boothia Landin his pocket, to talk matters over with President Vandel, he had abrief but momentously interesting interview with Miss Chrysie, at theclose of which she said, as her hand rested in his:

"Well, Viscount, I'm not going to say 'Yes' right away. You're agentleman, and I like you. You're going to be a peer of England someday, and, if this scheme of yours works out all right, one of themasters of the world. As my father's daughter I have no naturalobjection to being a peeress of England and mistress of the world, butI am also a natural-born woman, and I want a little more than that—Imean something that a man could not give me if he owned the SolarSystem. I want to know for certain that you love me as a man shouldlove a woman, and that I can love you as a woman should love a man ifshe is going to marry him. I like you; yes, I like you better than anyother man I've ever seen. I tell you quite honestly it hasn't been acase of love at first sight with me, and I guess I haven't known youquite long enough to give you something that I can never take back. Goto your work and do it, and while you're doing it we shall get to knoweach other better, and meanwhile you may consider that you have theoption of another piece of half-discovered territory."

Before releasing her hand he stooped and kissed it, saying, with alaugh that bespoke a certain amount of satisfaction:

"That, you know, is—well, we will call it the seal on the contract.This is my act and deed, you understand—as people say when theyconclude a contract with an option. A definition of kissing which Ionce read describes it as equivalent to syllabus."

"Syllabus!" she said, releasing her hand and raising it to her brow,pushing a fold of hair back by the motion and smiling up at him in asomewhat disconcerted fashion. "And what might that mean in yourdictionary of kisses?"

"It was defined as kissing the hand of the girl you want very badlyinstead of——"

Her red lips smiled an irresistible challenge at him, and the nextinstant his arm was round her waist, and he said:

"After all, I don't think that contract was properly signed, sealed,and delivered; at least, the seal was in the wrong place, and thedelivery was not quite complete."

"Now I call that real mean, Viscount," she said, a moment afterwards."I only gave you an option on the territory, and you're starting tooccupy it right away."

"Well, then," he said, taking her hand again, "suppose, instead of theterritory, we call it a reserve. How will that do?"

"Not quite," she said, drawing back a bit. "To some extent I've beentaken by assault, but I've not surrendered at discretion yet. Thatsounds a bit mixed, I know—but it's pretty near the truth."

"And at that," he said, gravely smiling, "I am quite content to leaveit." And so, with the magical touch of her lips still thrillingthrough his blood, he left her, more than ever determined to fulfil tothe utmost the tremendous destiny which chance had cast in his way.

To him there could have been no more delightfully satisfactory endingto his mission. In blood he was himself half-American, and in him theold-world aristocrat was strangely blended with the keen, far-seeing,quick-witted, hard-headed, and perhaps, in one sense, hard-hearted manof business. It was to this side of his nature that the physicalcharms, the keen wit, and sprightly spirit of Miss Chrysie had firstappealed; but later on the aristocrat in him had recognised that shetoo was a patrician of the New World, whose ancestry stretched backinto the history of the old, and so gradually interest and admirationhad grown into a love which completely satisfied all his instincts.

The very way in which she had received his proposal had increased bothhis love and his respect. If she had surrendered at discretion theremight have remained the possibility of a suspicion that, after all,she had been tempted to take hold of a magnificent opportunity, notonly for placing herself in the front rank of European society, butalso of wielding through her husband a power such as no woman had everexercised before. But she had given him frankly to understand thatthese things were as nothing in her eyes, great and splendid as theywere, without that certainty of mutual love which could alone induceher to give herself, body and soul, into the hands of any man, howeverpowerful or nobly born; for Chrysie Vandel was a woman in the bestsense of that much-meaning word, and she knew that for her there wasno choice, save between the complete independence of thought andaction which she had so far enjoyed, and an equally complete surrenderto the man to whom she could render, whole-hearted and unreserved, thesweet service of love.

After dinner that night he had an equally satisfactory interview withthe president, who, when he had heard his story, just got up from hischair and said:

"Viscount, we'll shake on that. My girl's free to choose where shelikes, or not to choose at all, and you are not going to have any helpfrom me in the way of persuasion; but if she does choose, why, I'dsooner she chose you than any other man I know."

"I ask for nothing better, I can assure you," said Hardress. "Thankyou a thousand times."

The next day by noon theNadine was steaming out past SandyHook. Allowing for difference in longitude, it was almost at the samemoment that the night mail pulled out of the Petersburg station. Twoof the sleeping-compartments were occupied by Prince Xavier de Condéand his daughter; and so, from the ends of the earth, both travellingtowards an obscure little watering-place hidden away in the depths ofthe German forest land, were approaching each other the man and thewoman whose destinies had been, all unknown to themselves, sostrangely linked together by the last despairing act of the man whosecountry had refused to permit him to make her the mistress of theworld.

The village of Elsenau, which has hardly yet risen to the dignity of atown, lies somewhere midway between the Hartz Mountains and theThuringia Wald, which, as everyone knows, stretches away inundulations of wooded uplands and valleys southward to the BlackForest. Its most recent possession is the fine Hôtel Wilhelmshof—anentirely admirable creation of the German instinct for catering,facing south-west, and sheltered north and east by uplands crownedwith stately pines. Southward it has smooth, new-made lawns, dottedwith clumps of firs and parterres of flowers, shielded by curves offlowering bushes. The lawns slope down to the edge of a long narrowlake, which, on the evening of the day after the prince and themarquise left Petersburg, lay smooth and blue-black beneath thecloudless azure of the summer heaven.

But the principal attraction of Elsenau, which, indeed, had given theluxurious hotel its reason for existence, and which had raised thelittle village of charcoal-burners and woodcutters to the dignity of aKur-anstalt, was a spring, accidentally discovered by an enterprisingengineer who was looking among the mountains for a water-supply forthe city of Ilmosheim, some three miles away to the south. The watershad a curious taste and a most unpleasant smell. Learned chemists anddoctors analysed them, and reported that they contained ingredientswhich formed a sovereign remedy for gout and rheumatism—especiallythe hereditary form of the first. They were bottled and sent far andwide, and soon after their qualities had been duly appreciated andcommented on by the medical press of Europe and America, the HôtelWilhelmshof rose, as it were, with the wave of the contractor's magicwand, hard by the little limestone grotto in which the spring had beendiscovered.

About eight o'clock on a lovely evening in July, Lord Orrel and LadyOlive, under the broad verandah of the Wilhelmshof, sat drinking theirafter-dinner coffee and watching the full moon sailing slowly up overthe black ridges of the pine-crowned hills which stretched away to thesouthward.

"I suppose the prince must have missed his train, or else the trainwas behind time and missed the coach," said Lord Orrel, taking out hiswatch. "It is rather curious that I should have met him regularlyevery year at Homburg or Spa or Aix, and that somehow you have nevermet him; and now it seems from his letter that we have both discoveredthis new little place of evil-smelling waters together. I am glad thathe is bringing his daughter with him."

"Ah, yes; his daughter—she is the second Marie Antoinette, isn'tshe?" said Lady Olive, putting her cup down and taking up hercigarette. "The most beautiful woman in Europe, the last daughter ofthe old House of Bourbon—I mean the elder branch, of course. And theprince?"

"The first gentleman in Europe, in my opinion," replied the earl,flicking the ash off his cigar. "A man who, granted the possibility ofcircumstances which, of course, are not now possible, might mount thethrone of Louis XIV., and receive the homage of all his courtierswithout their knowing the difference. A great man, my dear Olive, bornfour generations out of his time. If he had succeeded the GrandMonarque—there would have been no French Revolution, no Napoleon——"

"And therefore, my dear papa," laughed Lady Olive, "no Peninsular War,no Wellington, no Waterloo, no Nelson, no Nile and Trafalgar, and sonone of that expiring British supremacy which you were arguing aboutso eloquently the other day in the House of Lords."

While she was speaking, the double doors giving on to the verandahwere thrown open, a lacquey, gorgeously uniformed in blue and silver,came out, with his body inclined at an angle of thirty degrees, andhis arms hanging straight down, and said, in thick Swiss French:

"Your Excellency and Madame la Marquise will find Milord and Miladi onthe verandah here."

As Lady Olive looked round she heard a rustle of frilled skirts on theplanks of the verandah, and saw a tall, stately gentleman and the mostbeautiful woman she had ever seen coming towards her.

The gentleman's eyes brightened and his brows lifted as he raised hishat. The woman's face might have been a mask, and her eyes looked outupon nothingness.

"Ah, my dear prince," said the earl, rising and going towards him withoutstretched hands. "Delighted to renew our acquaintance in a new andyet a very charming place. I was hoping that you would get here fordinner; but, of course, once off the main line, you can never trust aGerman train to get anywhere in time. And this is Mam'selle laMarquise, I presume. This is fortunate. You see I have my daughterOlive taking care of me, so perhaps they may help to entertain eachother in this out-of-the-way place."

"Yes," replied the prince, as they shook hands, "this is my daughterof whom I have spoken to you so often; and this is yours, the LadyOlive. Mam'selle, I have the honour to salute you. Adelaide, this isthe daughter of Lord Orrel—an old friend, and one of the anciennenoblesse."

Olive had risen while he was speaking; the mask melted away from themarquise's lovely face, her lips softened into a smile, and a swiftgleam of scrutiny took the place of vacancy in her eyes. Lady Olive'smet hers with a frank though involuntary look of challenge. Shecertainly was what the gossip of half-a-dozen countries calledher—the most beautiful woman in Europe. She possessed an exquisitegrace of form and face and manner which made her indescribable. Whenone woman honestly admires another it is always with a half-conceivedsense either of envy or hostility. Lady Olive was herself one of thebest types of an English patrician, and the blood in her veins hadflowed through ten generations of the proudest lineage in Britain; butin Adelaide de Condé, the daughter of the most ancient aristocraciesof France and Austria, she instinctively recognised her equal, perhapsher superior.

She put out her hand in a frank, English way, and said, in the mostperfectly accented French:

"My father has told me so much about yours, and they are such goodfriends, that I hope it isn't possible that we can be anything else."

"Quite impossible!" smiled the marquise, taking the hand of thenew-made friend who in days to come was to be an enemy. "Since ourfathers are such old and good friends, why should we not be newfriends and good ones too?" And then, turning round to her father, shesaid: "Voila, papa, since we find ourselves in such good company, andwe have missed the dinner, and cannot eat till they get somethingready, why do you not have your vermouth and a cigarette? In fact, aswe are so entirely 'chez nous' here in this delightful retreat, youmay order one for me too, I think."

The prince lifted his eyelids, and the lacquey approached and took hisorder, and then the party proceeded to make friends.

A little after tea the same evening, when Lady Olive and the marquisehad retired to Lady Olive's sitting-room for a chat on things feminineand European, Lord Orrel and the prince were strolling up and down themoonlit lawn, smoking their cigars and exchanging the experiences thatthey had had since their last meeting at Homburg the year before.

Their friendship had begun by a chance acquaintance some six yearsbefore at Aix-les-Bains. Both of them aristocrats to theirfinger-tips, it was not long before they struck a note of commonsympathy. The once splendid name which the prince bore appealedinstantly to the Englishman, who could trace his descent back to thedays of the first Plantagenet, and it was not long before they found acloser bond than that of ancient ancestry.

One night, when the beach at Trouville was lit up by just such a moonas was now floating high over the pines on the hills round Elsenau, hehad told the prince the story of his life—the story of an elder scionof an ancient line devoted rather to literature and the byways ofscience than to the political and social duties of his position, and,moreover, a man who had never found a woman whom his heart could callto his side to share it with him. He had devoted his after-collegedays to study and travel. His younger brother, a splendid specimen ofEnglish chivalry, had found his mate in the daughter of his father'soldest friend. He was a soldier, and when the Franco-German war brokeout, nothing, not even the longing, half-reproachful looks of hisbetrothed, could keep him from volunteering in the French service. Hehad fought through the war with brilliant distinction, a private atSaarbruck and a captain during the Siege of Paris. Then, captured,badly wounded, by the Germans after a brilliant sortie, he was curedand released, only to be murdered by the communards on the eve of hisreturn to England. A year or two after, the Earl abjured his vows ofcelibacy under the fascinations of a brilliant American beauty, and sohad accepted the responsibility of perpetuating his race.

So these two men had met on common ground, and nothing was morenatural than that they should have become such friends as they were.To a very great extent they stood apart from the traditions of theirtimes. They were aristocrats in an age of almost universal democracy.Both of them firmly believed that democracy spelt degeneration,national and individual. Both of them were, in fact, incarnations ofan age that was past, and which might or might not be renewed.

This was, indeed, the subject of their conversation as they strolledup and down the smoothly-shaven lawn under the sheltering pines,chatting easily and comparing in well-selected phrases the things oftheir own youth with those of the present swiftly moving and even atrifle blatant generations of to-day.

"I quite agree with you, my dear Lord Orrel," said the prince, as theyturned at the end of their walk. "Democracy is tending now, just as itdid in the days of Greece and Carthage and Rome, and to-day in my ownunhappy France, to degeneration, and the worst of it is that there isno visible possibility of salvation. Our rulers have armed the mobwith a weapon more potent than the thunders of Jove. The loafer of thecafé and the pot-house has a vote, and, therefore, the same voice inchoosing the rulers of nations as the student and the man of science,or the traveller who is familiar with many lands and many races. Ioften think that it is a pity that some means cannot be found forplacing—well, I will call it a despotic power—in the hands of a fewmen—men, for instance, if I may say so without flattery or vanity,like ourselves—men of wide experience and broad sympathies, and yetpossessing what you and I know to be the essentials of despotism—thatsomething that can only be inherited, not acquired."

"My dear prince, I agree with you entirely," replied Lord Orrel. "Ourpresent civilisation is suffering from a sort of dry-rot. Sentimenthas degenerated into sentimentalism, courage into a reckless gamblingfor honours, statesmanship into politics, oratory into verbosity. Inshort, the nineteenth century has degenerated into the twentieth.Everything seems going wrong. The world is ruled by the big man whoshots his quotations on the Stock Exchange and the little one whoserves behind his counter. It is all buying and selling. Honour andfaith, and the old social creed which we used to call noblesse oblige,are getting quite out of date."

"Not that yet, my friend, surely," the prince interrupted, quicklygripping his companion's arm; "not that, at least, for us. I confessthat we and those like us are, as one might say, derelicts on theocean of society—we, who one day were stately admirals, to use theold phrase. And yet, as you said just now, if only some power could beplaced in the hands of a few like ourselves, a power which wouldover-ride the blind, irresponsible, shifting will of the mutable mobwhich changes its vote and its opinions with the seasons, the worldmight be brought again into order, and the proletariat might be savedfrom its own suicide.

"And," he went on, turning at the other end of their promenade,"perhaps you will not believe me, but only a few weeks ago there wassuch a power in the hands of a Frenchman—of an Alsatian, perhaps Ishould say, but a man who had preserved his loyalty to France—ascientist of European reputation—a man who had discovered that thisearth had a spirit, a living soul, and who could gain control ofit—so complete a control, that he could draw it out and leave theearth dead—a man who—But there, I am wearying you; I am sure youmust think that I am telling you some fairy tale."

"By no means, my dear prince," said Lord Orrel, doing his best to keephis voice steady, and not quite succeeding. "In the first place, I amquite sure that you would not speak so seriously on a subject that wasnot serious; and, in the second place, I can assure you that I am mostdeeply interested."

"A thousand pardons, my lord," said the prince. "Of course you wouldnot think that of me. We have both of us lived too long to indulge inromance, and yet, if I could tell you the whole story, you would saythat you have never heard such a romance as this."

"And, if it is not trespassing too far upon your confidence, my dearprince, I should be only too happy to hear you tell the whole story,"said his lordship, with an unmistakable note of curiosity in his tone.

"I can tell you part of the story," replied the prince; "but not here.It is so strange, and it might have meant so much, not only to France,but to the world, that I can only tell it to you where no other earsthan ours can hear it, and even then only under your solemn pledge ofsecrecy."

"As for the first condition, my dear prince," replied Lord Orrel, "Iwill ask you to take a glass of wine with me in my sitting-room. Asfor the second, you have my word."

"And, therefore, both conditions are amply satisfied. Let us go, and Iwill tell you the strangest story you have ever heard."

By the time the prince had ceased speaking there was not the slightestdoubt in Lord Orrel's mind that, in some most mysterious manner, hewas connected with the discovery which Hardress had made when he tookthe mutilated body out of the waters of the Channel. Perhaps even theunknown dead might have been someone near and dear to him. It seemedto him utterly impossible either to doubt the prince's word or tobelieve that two such discoveries could have been made by two men atthe same time, or even that there could exist at the same time onearth two men whose genius, once put into practice, could make themrival masters of the world.

And supposing that he knew part of the story which the prince wasgoing to tell him—the sequel, and, from a practical point of view,the all-important portion—ought he to tell him what he knew too? Hewas under no actual pledge of secrecy to his associates in the greatTrust, but still he felt that he was under an honourable obligation tokeep the story of the discovery to himself. On the other hand, grantedthat the prince knew the first half, would it be right—would it behonourable, according to his own exact code of honour, to keep thesequel from him? Perhaps the prince even had a definite personalinterest in the scheme; and, in that case, to keep silence would be torob him of his prior rights. What was he to do?

He had been a Minister of the Crown for a short term of office, and bythe time they reached his sitting-room, and he had locked the door,after the wine had been placed on the table, diplomacy had come to hisaid, and he had made up his mind. When he had filled the glasses hetook out his cigar-case, selected the best it contained, and said:

"My dear Lord Orrel, there is nothing that you could do that I shouldconsider a liberty. Thank you, I will; I know that your cigars arealways most excellent, and now we will make ourselves comfortable, andyou shall take your liberty."

He took the proffered cigar as he spoke, snipped the end, and lit it.Lord Orrel did the same, and when they had saluted each other overtheir wine, in the old-fashioned, courtly style, he began:

"My dear prince, the liberty that I am going to ask your permission totake is a very great one, because it is a liberty of anticipation; andfew men, even the most chivalrous, care to be anticipated, especiallywhen they have an interesting story to tell. In other words, I, too,have a very strange story to tell you. In fact, the strangest thatever came within my experience. And there are reasons, which I willexplain to you afterwards, why I am asking the favour of yourpermission to tell it before yours."

The prince looked puzzled, and his dark brows approached each otherfor just the fraction of a second. He took a sip at his wine, leantback in his chair, and blew a long whiff of smoke up towards thegaudily-painted ceiling. Then he said, with a barely perceptible shrugof his shoulders:

"My dear Lord Orrel, you are not asking me any favour. On thecontrary, you are merely requesting that you shall entertain me beforeI try to do the same by you. Moreover, as it is quite impossible thatthere can be any connection between our stories, there can be noquestion of anticipation; so, pray, proceed. I am all attention."

"As I said," began Lord Orrel, settling himself in his chair, andtaking a long pull at his cigar, "the story is a very strange one, andit is also one which could not well be told from the housetops,because it involves—well, what may be something almost as wonderfulas what you hinted at in the garden just now."

"Ah," interrupted the prince, with a visible start and a suddenlifting of the eyebrows, "then, in truth, it must be strange indeed;and so I am more than ever anxious to hear it; and if, as I divine,you wish me to treat it in confidence, you, of course, have my word,as a gentleman of France, that no detail of it shall ever pass mylips."

His host felt not a little relieved at being released from thenecessity of binding him to secrecy, as, for the sake of hiscolleagues, he would have felt obliged to do; so he said:

"That, my dear prince, it would be quite impossible to imagine; andnow, as it is getting a little late, I will get to my story."

He began with the finding of the mutilated body by theNadine,and the discovery of the tin box containing the momentous papers, andhad just given a sketch of their contents and the use that was aboutto be made of the dead man's discovery when the prince, whose face hadbeen growing greyer and greyer during the recital, at length lost hishold upon the stern control under which he had just placed himself. Hesprang to his feet, flung his arms apart, and cried, in ahigh-pitched, half-choked voice:

"Mon Dieu! mon Dieu! It is the same!—what miracle has happened? Mylord, you have been telling me the end of the story of which I wasgoing to tell you the beginning. And so France, poor France, throughthe stupidity of the ministerial puppets that the mob has placed inthe seats of their ancient rulers, has refused the sceptre of theworld; and I—I, the heir of her ancient royal house, have lost notonly the throne of my ancestors, but the power to make her themistress of the nations. Truly, the mills of God grind slowly, butthey grind exceeding small. Her kings misruled her, and she took otherrulers, who have cheated and swindled her, and humbled her beforethose who once did her bidding; and now, when the hand of Fate holdsout the means of regaining all that she has lost, and more, infinitelymore, she puts it aside with the sneering laugh of contemptuousignorance. Truly it is a judgment that judges even unto the third andfourth generation. Ah, yes; and on me, too!—I, who am innocent! MonDieu, mon Dieu, it is cruel!"

As the last words came from his trembling lips his hands came togetheron his forehead, and he dropped back into his chair.

For a moment of speechless astonishment Lord Orrel stared across theroom at him. Then, dropping his cigar on the tray, he got up and wentand laid his hand on the prince's shoulder.

"My dear prince, my dear friend," he said, in a voice moved byemotion, "I am most deeply distressed that my story should haveaffected you so painfully. Believe me, I had no intention, no thoughteven——"

The prince dropped his hands from his head, and stood and faced him,his face white and set and his eyes burning; but with a perfectlysteady voice, he said:

"My lord, I thank you. So much emotion, though perhaps it was natural,ought not to have been shown. I should not have permitted it tomyself, save in solitude. It was impossible that I should know thatyour lordship's story was the same as mine, and so, naturally, theshock was greater. And now, may I ask your lordship one question?"

"I will answer it, prince, before you ask it," interrupted Lord Orrel."But first, let me beg of you to drink your wine; really, you do notlook well."

The prince took the glass from him and drained it in silence, his handshaking ever so little as he held it to his lips, and the other wenton:

"Knowing what I did, I felt certain that two such miracles could nothave happened at the same time; moreover, some inspiration told methat the discovery you spoke of in the garden was the same that my sonmade under such terrible circumstances in the Channel. Now, sit down,pray, do, and let us talk this matter over as men of the world."

"Men of the world!" echoed the prince, sadly, as he sat down again;"nay, of two worlds. I of the old, you and your son and your greatbusiness syndicate of the new; I of the past, you of the present andthe future; I who would have revived the glories of an ancient race,the despotism, if you will, of a bygone dynasty, you who would found anew one—despotism a thousand times harder, a dynasty of money, not ofblood, the most soulless and brutal of all dynasties. Ah, well, it isfate, and who shall question that? No; if you will pardon me, my dearOrrel, we will not talk further upon this subject, to-night, at anyrate. I confess that what you have told me has affected me deeply. Ifyou will permit me, I will go to bed. The Russians, you know, have asaying, 'Take thy thoughts to bed with thee, for the morning is wiserthan the evening.' To-morrow, perhaps, I shall be able to conversewith you on this momentous matter more calmly than I could doto-night."

"By all means, my dear prince," was the reply; "and, no doubt, such acourse would be better for me too, for I admit that this extraordinarycoincidence has upset me not a little as well. And so, good-night, andsound sleep."

"Ah, yes," replied the prince, as they shook hands at the door; "soundsleep. I hope so. Good-night, my lord, and pleasant dreams of theworld-empire."

He turned away to his bedroom, which was the next but two to hisdaughter's. The intervening rooms were occupied by his valet and hermaid. The valet's door was ajar, and there was a light in the room. Hestopped, and said:

"I shall not want anything to-night, Felix, so you may go to bed. If Irequire you in the night I will knock on the wall, as usual."

"Bien, monseigneur," replied the valet, opening the door and bowing."J'ai l'honneur de vous sous haiter le bon soir, monseigneur."

"Bon soir," replied the prince, as he passed on to his room. "Lechocolat a huit heures."

But Xavier de Condé, Prince of Bourbon, would never drink another cupof chocolate. As soon as his door closed behind him, asternly-repressed flood of passion broke out, and he spent half theremainder of the night walking, in his stockinged feet, up and downhis big bedchamber, with clenched teeth and tight-gripped hands, hisbrain seething with a thousand thoughts of passion, and his white,twitching lips shaping unspoken words of rage, bitterness, anddespair. It was a cruel irony that Fate had wrought on him and hisancient house. The possible sceptre of the world had been offered tohis hereditary enemies, the Republicans of France, and, if Fargeau hadheld to his compact, the compact for which he had given his daughterto his son, he would have been master of France; and Fargeau wouldhave kept it, for he was a loyal Frenchman; and his son would havemarried a future Queen of France! And now not only had France refusedthe sceptre and snatched the crown from him, but the sceptre hadpassed by some bitter caprice of Fate into the hands of France'shereditary enemies. What could he say or do? Nothing. It wasmaddening—worse than maddening. He had pledged his honour, and couldtell no one—but even if he could, what then? The secret wasout—worse—it was in the hands of men who could make the ideal areality. They could not even give him back the power if they would,for the knowledge was theirs already, and they could act on it whilehe could not.

The more he thought the faster the fever that was burning in his bloodincreased. His lips and tongue grew parched. His steps grew irregularand faltering. The veins in his head were beating on his brain likesledge-hammers. The lights began to waver before his eyes. He feltinstinctively that madness—that long-inherited curse of his race—wascoming. What if he should really go mad and babble not only of thisgreat secret, but also of all the plots and intrigues of which he hadbeen the centre! How many devoted friends and adherents would beconsigned to prison and exile—perhaps even to the scaffold! The verythought chilled him back into sanity for the time being. He rappedsharply at the wall, and presently Felix appeared, half-dressed, anddoing his best to stifle a yawn.

"Felix," said the prince, who was now sitting in his arm-chair withhis head between his hands, "bid Marie arouse mam'selle immediately,and request her to dress and come to me. I am unwell—another of myattacks, I fear—and she only knows what to do for me. Quick—I needher at once."

Felix vanished, and within ten minutes the marquise was in herfather's room; but by this time the blood was beating on his brainagain, and the fierce light of insanity was beginning to dawn in hiseyes.

With the valet's help she partly undressed him and got him to bed.Then she locked the door and braced herself for what she instinctivelyknew must be a terrible ordeal.

She saw at a glance that some terrible shock had thrown his brain offits balance. She had plotted with him and for him, and she knew why itwas her duty to lock the door. But what was this? Whence had come thisblow which had struck him down so swiftly? She soon learnt, as thedisjointed words and fragmentary sentences were shaped in the strugglebetween sanity and delirium for the command of his brain. Hour afterhour it went on, a piteous jumble of the memories of a long, busylife; but in the end, out of the mental tangle she was able to unravelone clear thread of thought. Emil Fargeau had given his secret to thesea, and the sea had given it into the hands of the English, theancient enemies of her country and her race; and it was the son ofthis Lord Orrel, the brother of the haughty English beauty sleepinghere, under the same roof, who had re-discovered it, and they wereeven worse than English, they were half-American; and England andAmerica would between them share that empire of the world, thatmastery of the human race, which should have been her father's andhers. She had even permitted her troth to be sold to a simple officerin the German army, a spy in the enemy's camp, in order to purchasethis new sovereignty for her house.

The prince was rapidly sinking; she could see that, and yet she washelpless to save him, for she had promised that no one, not even adoctor, should be admitted into the room. She gave him a dose of anopiate which he always carried with him, and about dawn he wassleeping, but every now and then talking in his sleep more coherently.At sunrise the effect of the drug wore off, and delirium resumed itssway for a few moments. His eyes opened, and with a sudden jerk he satup in bed, his eyes glaring at the opposite wall, and his fingersclutching and tearing at the bedclothes. His lips worked convulsivelyfor a while, then, with a hoarse, croaking scream he died.

"France! O ma belle France, maitresse du monde—et moi ton roi,ton—ah——!"

His voice dropped suddenly in a low, soft sigh, his eyelids fell, andhis arms shrank to his sides, and he rolled back into his daughter'sarms. The fresh rush of blood to his head had broken a vessel on thebrain.

Adelaide knew instinctively that the dead weight in her arms was notthat of a living man. She laid him back on the pillows, called upFelix and sent him for the resident physician. When he had made hisexamination, he said, in his guttural French:

"Mam'selle la Marquise, there is no hope. The prince is dead. If I hadbeen called earlier I might have done something. I will make anexamination afterwards and certify the cause of death, according tolaw. Accept my most respectful condolences."

In the midst of the desolation which had so swiftly and unexpectedlyfallen upon her, the help and solace even of those whom she now knewto be her enemies—enemies perhaps to the death—were very welcome toAdelaide de Montpensier. Every sort of trouble that could be taken offher hands they relieved her of. Hardress travelled to Vienna, whichthe prince had made his headquarters, to interview his man of businessand to escort back the prince's sister, Madame de Condé, Princess ofBourbon, who was now, save Adelaide, the only representative of theolder branch of the ancient line. The younger had bowed the knee tothe Republican Baal in France, and they were not even notified of theprince's death.

Lord Orrel undertook the arrangement of the funeral and all the legalformalities connected with it, and Lady Olive was so sweet and tenderin her help and sympathy that, in the midst of her grief, Adelaidebegan to love her in spite of herself.

The funeral was without any display that might have signalised therank of the dead man, and Louis Xavier de Condé, Prince of Bourbon,was laid to rest in an ordinary brick grave on the hillside under thepines of Elsenau. Both Adelaide and her aunt would have applied to theFrench authorities to permit his interment in the resting-place of hisancestors, but the old prince had given special instructions thatwhile the Republican banner waved over France not even his dead bodyshould rest in her soil, and so his wishes were, perforce, respected.

The night after the funeral the marquise was sitting at herwriting-table before the window of her private sitting-room. Thewindow looked put over a vast expanse of undulating forest land,broken here and there by broad grassy valleys through which ran littletributaries of the Weser, shining like tiny threads of silver underthe full moon riding high in the heavens.

She had drawn the blind up, and for nearly half-an-hour she had beengazing dreamily out over the sombre, almost ghostly landscape. Thedeep gloom of the far-spreading pine forest harmonised exactly withher own mood, and yet the twinkle of the streams amidst the glades,and the glitter of the stars on the far-off horizon, were to her assymbols of a light shining over and beyond the present darkness of hersoul.

The night had fallen swiftly and darkly upon her. First the vanishinginto impenetrable mystery of the man upon whom rested her hopes anddreams of one day queening it over France as her ancestress MarieAntoinette had done, and not only over France as a kingdom, but asmistress of the world. And now the veil of mystery had been rudelytorn aside, and showed her these English and Americans, the hatedhereditary enemies of her house and country, in possession of thepower which should have been hers. Then, last and worst of all, herfather and her friend, the only real friend she had ever had, the onlyhuman being she had ever really loved—for she barely remembered themother who had died when she was scarcely out of her cradle—had beenstricken down by the same blow that had fallen upon her, and layyonder on the hillside under the pines, all his high hopes andsplendid ambitions brought to nothing by the swift agony of a singlenight.

There was an open book on the table before her—a square volume,daintily bound in padded Russia-leather, and closed with a silverspring lock. A gold-mounted stylographic pen lay beside it, and sheheld between her fingers a little cunningly contrived silver key whichshe had just detached from her watch-chain.

"Shall I write it," she murmured, in a soft, low tone, "or shall Ikeep it hidden where no human eyes can read it? But who can ever readthis?" she went on after a little pause, letting her hand fall on thesquare volume. "After all, are not all my secrets here? and is notthis the only friend and confidant that I have now left to me? Yes, Iam a woman, when all is said; and I must open my heart to someone, ifonly to myself."

She turned the little shaded lamp by her side so that the light fellon the volume, and she put the key in the lock and opened it. Abouthalf the pages were filled with writing—not in words, but in a kindof shorthand which could only be read by her father, herself, andthree of the most trusted adherents of their lost cause. Her eyes ranrapidly over the last few pages. They contained the last chapters inthe book of her life which was now closed. Before she reached the enda mist of tears was gathering in her long, dark lashes. She wiped itaway with a little lace-edged handkerchief, and took up her pen. Shescored two heavy lines across the bottom of the last written page,turned over a fresh one, and began to write.

"My father is dead, and with him the dreams which for years we have dreamt together. Was there ever a more cruel irony of Fate than this? Was Fate itself ever more unkind to man or woman? Only a few weeks ago, and I had sold myself, with his consent, so far did our devotion go to serve the sacred cause of our house, to this big, handsome Alsatian—a servant of the German Emperor, the arch-enemy of our country, the owner of the two provinces which my ancestor Louis tore from Germany. I did it because in high politics it is necessary sometimes to sacrifice oneself, partly too because no other man had appealed to me as he did. I knew that he was running tremendous risks; I believed—yes, and I still believe, that he was risking everything—rank, honour, liberty, even life itself, by wearing the uniform of his country's enemy so that he might learn his enemy's secrets.

"He loves me—yes, if ever man loved woman, he loves me—me, Adelaide de Condé, Marquise de Montpensier; and I—ah, mon Dieu, is it possible that the daughter of Marie Antoinette has sunk so low?—I allowed him to believe that I loved him too. He believes it now. I suppose he would still believe it, even if he knew what I know now—that his father is dead, that the secret of the world-empire which he could have given us, that power for which I promised myself to him, so that I might share it with him, has gone, that it is worse than lost, since the Fates have given it into the hands of the enemies of our house.

"And so it is gone—worse than gone—and so, my friend Victor, I am afraid you will have to find out in the course of circumstances that a woman's smiles do not always mean a reflection of the light in her lover's eyes, and that her kisses do not always mean love. It is a pity, because, after all, I believe you are a true Frenchman, even if you wear a German uniform; and if that dream had become a reality, and you and I had shared the throne of France, perhaps I should have loved you as well and as truly as most queens have loved their consorts.

"But, alas, my poor Victor, the sceptre has passed away—for the time being, at least—from the House of Bourbon. It is given into the hands of our enemies, and so you, by force of fate, must stand aside. I shall not tell you this yet, because afterwards, perhaps, you may be useful. I wonder what you would think of me—even you, a man who in the old days would only have been a sort of slave, living or dying socially as the great Louis smiled or frowned upon you—I wonder what you would think if you could look over my shoulder and read this writing and see a woman's soul laid naked on this page. Perhaps you might think me utterly mean and contemptible—you would if you didn't understand; but if you did, if you could see all and understand all—well, then, you might hate me, but I think you would be man enough to respect me.

"At least you are diplomatist enough to know, after all, in the great game of politics, a game that is played for the mastery of kingdoms and peoples, to say nothing of the empire of the world, women have to count themselves as pawns. Even the cleverest, the most brilliant, the most beautiful of us—that is all we are. Sometimes our beauty or the charm of our subtle wit may win the outer senses of the rulers of the world; they may admire us physically or mentally, or both, but even at the best, it is only the man that we enslave. The man goes to sleep for a night, he dreams perhaps of our beauty and the delight of our society, but in the morning it is the statesman that wakes, and he looks back on the little weakness of the night before, and thinks of us as an ordinary man might think of the one extra liqueur which he ought not to have taken after a good dinner.

"And now these English—these people into whose hands Fate has given my heritage! Ah, cruel Fate; why did you not make them hateful, vulgar, common—something that I could hate and tread under foot—something that I could think as far beneath me as the bourgeois canaille of Republican France? But you have made them aristocratic! Lord Orrel's lineage goes back past the days of St Louis. His ancestors fought side by side with mine in the first Crusade. True, they have mixed their blood with that American froth, the skimming of the pot-bouillé of the nations, but still, after all, the old blood tells.

"Lady Olive—how I wish that she were either vulgar or ugly, so that I could hate her!—is a daughter of the Plantagenets fit to mate with a Prince of Bourbon, if there were one worthy of her. Lord Orrel might have been one of those who went with the Eighth Henry to meet Francis on the Field of the Cloth of Gold, patrician in every turn of voice and manner and movement. And Shafto Hardress, who will be Earl of Orrel some day, and master of the world: yes, he is a patrician too; but with him there is something a little different—the American blood perhaps—keen, quick, alert, one moment indolently smoking his cigar and sipping his coffee, the next on his feet, ready to assume the destinies of nations. A man, too, strong and kindly—a man who would risk his life to save a drowning dog, and yet strike down an enemy in his path, so that he might rise a foot or so on the ladder of fame or power. But he is more than that, he wants far more than the empty fame of applause. The fame he wants is that which comes from acknowledged power. You can see the dreamer in his eyes and on his forehead, and you can see the doer on that beautiful, pitiless mouth of his and the square, strong jaw which is under it.

"What a man to love and to be loved by! What would he think, I wonder, if he could read what I am writing here! And yet, are not all things possible? Is it not the unexpected that comes to pass? Why not? Behold, I am left desolate, the garden that I called my heart is a wilderness—a wilderness ploughed up by the ploughshare of sorrow and bitterness, and so it lies fallow. Would it be possible for him to sow the seed for which it is waiting?—and then the harvest would be the empire of the world shared between us! Well, after all, I am not only Adelaide de Condé, daughter of a lost dynasty. I am a woman, with all the passions and ambitions of our race burning hot within me. If I cannot sit on the throne of the Bourbons, why should I not be empress-consort on the throne of a world-wide empire?—why not? It would be a magnificent destiny!"

When she had written this she laid her pen down, put her elbows on thetable, and, with her chin between her hands, looked up in silence forsome minutes at the moon sailing through rank after rank of fleecyclouds. Then she took up her pen again, and wrote:

She looked at the last words for a moment or two, then put down herpen, closed the book and locked it, and, as she put it away into adrawer of her writing-table, she murmured:

"Ah, well, if there is—if there is——" She caught a sight of herselfin the long glass of one of the wardrobes, and she saw a tall,exquisitely-shaped figure of a beautiful woman clad in the plainest ofmourning. She looked at herself with eyes of unsparing criticism, andfound no fault, and she turned away from the glass, saying:

"Ah, well, if there is—we shall see—and, if there really is, Iwonder what she's like."

Within a week after the funeral Adelaide and Madame de Condé returnedto the late prince's hotel on the Ringstrasse in Vienna. They hadtaken most cordial leave of Lord Orrel and his son and daughter, and,in spite of all their prejudices of race and nation, Adelaide de Condéhad brought something more away with her than the memory of a greatsorrow tempered by the kindness of those whom a strange freak offortune had made friends as well as enemies.

Even the two or three days that she had spent in his society hadsufficed to show her that Shafto Hardress possessed in an infinitelygreater degree those qualities which go to make the rulers of humanitythan her big handsome Alsatian, whose utmost ambition was the commandof an army corps. He had the hard, keen, unemotional common-sensewhich enabled him to see even the tremendous possibilities of EmilFargeau's discovery in a purely practical and even commercial light,but at the same time he possessed sufficient imagination to enable himto see how far-reaching the moral and social effects of theworking-out of the scheme would be on the peoples of the world.

She had herself said nothing of what had passed during that terriblenight. For all they knew, the prince had taken the secret with him tothe grave. Once Lord Orrel had very delicately led the conversation upas near to the edge of this supremely important subject as hisinstincts would let him go, but he had learnt nothing, and an hour orso later he said to his son:

"My dear Shafto, it is perfectly certain that my dear old friend theprince died without giving her any inkling of the great secret whichhe took to the grave with him."

"Either that, dad," he replied, "or she is the most perfectdiplomatist in Europe. I think I have heard you say that the firstessential of diplomacy is the ability to assume a perfect counterfeitof innocence and ignorance—in other words, to convey the impressionthat you know nothing when you know everything."

"Well, if that is so in this case," replied his father, "the maskwhich mam'selle wears is as impenetrable as it is beautiful. Really,Shafto, I think that rumour did not exaggerate when it called her themost beautiful woman in Europe."

"Yes," said Hardress, slowly; "she certainly is very lovely, and, fromthe little I've seen of her, she seems as gifted as she is beautiful."

"Then, my dear boy, if you really think that," said Lord Orrel, "howwould it be if you were to repair this involuntary injustice which theFates have wrought upon her? The most beautiful woman in Europe, andperhaps the most nobly born, and you one of the masters of the world!Why not? There is the realisation of a dream even greater than theprince's; and if I have any skill in reading a woman's face or woman'seyes, it is a dream not very difficult for you to realise."

"Oh, then, of course, there is someone else in the case; and that canhardly be anyone but——"

"You're quite right, dad; it's Chrysie Vandel. I meant to tell youbefore, but such a lot of things have happened since I got here, andI didn't really think it was of very much consequence for thepresent—because, after all, she's only accepted me conditionally—but,lovely and all as the marquise is, I think I would rather rule overthe Orrel estates with Chrysie than over the world with her."

"Then that, of course, settles it," said the earl, with a certain noteof displeasure in his voice. "Miss Vandel is a most charming andfascinating girl, but you will perhaps pardon me, Shafto, if I saythat she no more compares with the daughter of the royal line ofFrance than——"

"You needn't go on, dad," said Hardress, interrupting him with alaugh; "comparisons are always more or less unpleasant; and then, yousee, you're not in love with either of them, and I'm pretty badly inlove with one."

"Well, well," said his father, "of course, if that's the case, there'san end of it, and there's nothing more to be said. Still, for morereasons than one, I must say that I wish you had met the marquisefirst. The Plantagenets and the Bourbons would have made a splendidstock."

On the same day that this conversation took place in the gardens ofthe Hôtel Wilhelmshof in Elsenau, a very different one was takingplace in the prince's hotel at Vienna between Adelaide de Condé andVictor Fargeau, who, on receipt of the news of the prince's death, hadobtained a few days' leave, and travelled post-haste from Petersburgto Vienna.

It was after dinner, and Madame de Condé had retired to her own roomwith a slight attack of nerves. The marquise and Victor Fargeau weresitting on either side of the open fireplace, with a little table,holding coffee and liqueurs, between them. Adelaide had accepted acigarette from his case, and he had lit one too. For several minutesafter her aunt had left the room she puffed daintily at her cigarette,and looked across at him with intricately-mingled feelings. At lengthVictor broke the silence by saying, with a note of impatience in histone:

"And now, Mam'selle la Marquise, or, if you like it better, my mostbeautiful Adelaide, I have possessed my soul in patience for nearlytwo hours. When are you going to tell me this wonderful news ofyours?"

"Wonderful, my dear Victor? Alas, it is not only that; it is mostsorrowful as well." Then, bracing herself with a visible effort, shethrew her half-smoked cigarette into the fireplace, and, gripping thearms of the big chair in which she was sitting, she went on, staringstraight into his eyes: "It is nothing less than the story of how yourfather met his end, and what became of his great secret."

"From these English and Americans—or Anglo-Americans, as I suppose Iought to call them," she replied; "the people to whom the Fates gavethe secret with your father's dead and mutilated body; the people whoburied him—the man who might have been the saviour of France—in anameless English grave."

She kept her voice as steady as she could while she was saying this;she even tried to speak coldly and pitilessly, for she had made up hermind that the reasons of state for her betrothal to this man no longerexisted. She had an even higher stake to play for now, and, in spiteof all her pride of blood and racial prejudice, this would not be asacrifice; on the contrary, it would be rather a victory—and so shehardened her voice, as she had done her heart.

"Dead! mutilated!" he exclaimed again. "Yes; I knew he was dead, forhe told me in his letter from Paris that he would not, and could not,survive the failure of all his hopes. There were reasons why he shouldnot, but they are of no consequence now. He staked everything, andlost everything, and that is enough. It is not for me to be his judge,now that he has gone to the presence of the highest Judge of all."

"That was said like a good son and a true man, Victor," replied themarquise, with a swift glance of something like admiration at hisflushed and handsome face. "But there is something more serious thaneven the death of one whom you have loved and I have most deeplyrespected. I heard enough from my own father, during the night hedied, to convince me that these people have not only got the secret,but that they are already devoting millions to convert your father'stheory into a terrible reality.

"This Viscount Branston, Lord Orrel's son, has already been across toAmerica, and has leased the land about the Magnetic Pole from theCanadian Government. A syndicate has been formed, and even at thisvery moment the preliminaries of the work are being pushed forward asrapidly as possible. Within a few months they will have begun thestorage station itself, and then nothing can save the world from theirresistible power which will be theirs."

While she was speaking, Victor was striding up and down thedining-room, his hands clasped behind his back, and his frowning eyesbent on the thick carpet. Suddenly he stopped and faced her, and said,in sharp, almost passionate accents:

"Perhaps it is not too late after all. My father left me those papersin duplicate. I am weary—sick to death of playing this double game.In a few months war between France and Germany will be inevitable.Russia will side with us, and the prize of the victors will be—forFrance, the restoration of the Lost Provinces, and a good fat slice ofChina, and for Russia the whole of Northern China and Korea. Germanyhasn't a friend on earth. The English hate her because she is beatingthem in trade rivalry; Austria has no more forgotten Sadowa than wehave forgotten Sedan. Italy is crippled for lack of money, and so isSpain. The rest don't matter; and England and America will be only tooglad to stand aside and see Europe tear itself to pieces. So Franceand Russia will win, and we shall crush our conqueror into the dust."

"But how can that be?" she interrupted, "if your father's calculationswere correct—as these people have evidently found them to be—for ifthey had not done so they would not have risked their millions onthem. From what you and he have told me of his discovery, once theseworks are set in operation round the Magnetic Pole, fighting will beimpossible, save with the permission of those who own them. Metals, ashe proved in his last experiment, will become brittle as glass,cannons and rifles will burst at the first shot, even swords andbayonets will be no more use than icicles; steam-engines will cease towork, and the world will go back to the age of wood and stone.

"Picture to yourself, my dear Victor, the armed millions of Europefacing each other, unable to fire a shot, or even to make a bayonetcharge. Fancy the fleets of Russia and France and Germany laid up likeso many worn-out hulks. No, no, my friend; there can be no talk ofserious war while these people possess the power of preventing it attheir will."

"But war there must and shall be!" he exclaimed. "I have not been atraitor to my country even in appearance, I have not worn this Germanuniform—this livery of slavery—for nothing. I have not wormed my wayinto the confidence of my superiors, I have not risked something worsethan death to discover the details of Germany's next campaign againstFrance, to have all my work brought to nothing at the eleventh hour bythese English-Americans. No, there may be time even yet; I have riskedmuch, and I will risk more; and you, Adelaide, will you help me? Willyou keep the compact which your father made with mine?"

She had been growing paler all the time he had been speaking, knowinginstinctively what was coming. She rose slowly from her chair, andsaid, almost falteringly:

"What do you mean, Victor? How can I help you, when these peoplealready have the secret in their hands, and have been spending theirmillions for weeks? What can we do against them?"

"We can do this," he replied, stopping again in his walk; "my fatherpledged his honour as well as everything else he had in the world toinsure the success of this scheme. I, his son, can do no less; I willpledge mine in the same cause. I am on leave, and I can wear plainclothes. To-morrow I will start for Paris and see if I cannot bringthat pig-headed Minister of War to something like reason. I think Ihave a suggestion which he will find worth working out, and certainlyhe will be interested in other things that I shall put before him.Germany I have done with. I have worn the livery of shame too long.Henceforth I am what I was born—a Frenchman. I will resign mycommission to-morrow, even if France lets me starve for it. I caneasily do that, for the son of a disgraced man cannot remain in theGerman army, and my poor father disgraced himself to make France themistress of the world. A miserable Jew in Strassburg holds the honourof our family in his hand. I have no money to redeem it, and so itmust go."

She had almost said, "Victor, I am rich; let me redeem it," when sheremembered that she was no longer more loyal to him than he was toGermany. All the while that he had been talking she had been thinking,almost against her will, of Shafto Hardress, and comparing him onlytoo favourably with this man, who, however honourable his motivesmight seem to himself, was still a traitor and a spy. Instead of this,she said, rising and holding out her hand, "Well, Victor, so far as Ican help you I will. We are going to Paris ourselves in a few days,and, by the way, that reminds me I had a letter from Sophie Valdemaronly this morning, telling me that she and the count are going theretoo."

"Ah yes," replied Victor; "a mixture of diplomacy and pleasure, I'veno doubt. I wonder what the fair Sophie would give to know what youand I know, Adelaide?"

"A good deal, no doubt," smiled Adelaide, as they shook hands. "Of onething I'm quite certain; if Russia had the knowledge that you aregoing to give to France, Russia would find some means of making thosestorage works an impossibility."

"And that is exactly what I propose to persuade France to do, ifpossible; but we can talk that over better when we meet in Paris. Andnow, my Adelaide, good-night."

He clasped her hand and drew her towards him; for the fraction of asecond she drew back, and then she yielded and submitted to his kiss;but when the door had closed behind him, she drew the palm of her handacross her lips with a gesture almost of disgust, and said:

"No, my Victor; that must be the last. You cannot afford a Princess ofBourbon now. I sold myself for statecraft which is craft no longer;and, besides, there is another now. Ah, well, I wonder what willhappen in Paris? And Sophie Valdemar, too, and the count! Altogether,I think we shall make quite an interesting little party when we meetin la Ville Lumière."

Ten days had passed since Victor Fargeau's conversation with Adelaidede Condé in Vienna. He had adhered to the decision that he had come toso suddenly under the spell of her wonderful eyes.

He had no family ties now. His mother had died several years before.His two sisters had married Frenchmen, and migrated with theirhusbands into Normandy. The estate in Alsace, which should have beenhis own patrimony, was lost, and the German Jew, Weinthal, held notonly that but the honour of his family, the good name of his deadfather, in his hands. So he had decided to cut himself adrift from hisnative land until it had become once more a part of France.

He had written to Petersburg and resigned his position on theDiplomatic Staff, and he had also written to headquarters resigninghis commission, and telling enough of his father's story to show that,since it was impossible for him now, as a man with a tarnished name,to hold his head up amongst his brother officers, there was nothingleft for him but retirement into civil life.

A reply had come back, to the effect that the circumstances of hisvery painful case were under consideration, and that he need notreport himself for duty until the general of the division to which hewas attached had given his decision.

He knew that this was equivalent to an acceptance of his resignation.Even though he had asked for it, his dismissal galled him. He knewperfectly well that he had only entered the German army for thepurposes of revenge, that in honest language he could only bedescribed as a traitor and a spy—a man who had deliberately abusedhis position and the confidence of his superiors to get possession ofplans of fortresses, details of manœuvres, lines of communication,available rolling-stock, and points of entry which had been selectedfor possible invasion.

He had, in fact, done more than even Dreyfus was ever accused of, andnow, since everything else was lost, he was determined to take thelast step. He would throw off his enforced allegiance to Germany; hewould take the wreck of his fortunes with him to France, and he wouldoffer her his services and his information. He knew well enough thatthey would not be rejected, as his father's priceless discovery hadbeen. What he possessed would be bought eagerly by any of thechancelleries of Europe. The French Ministry of War would not refusehis services as it had refused his father's.

Even now some means might be found to checkmate theseEnglish-Americans. Already a scheme, daring and yet practicable, wasshaping itself in his mind, and if that succeeded he might stillachieve the one desire of his life and call Adelaide de Condé his own.For the present, although she had said nothing at that last interview,he felt that a change had come into their relationship. Her words hadbeen more formal and more measured, and her last kiss colder thanbefore. He felt that he was on his trial; that if he did not achievesomething great she was lost to him.

And then there was the other—this English-American—who had not onlygot the Great Secret, but the millions to put it into practice. Heknew her high ambitions. He knew that if she had to choose betweenlove for a man, and the fulfilment of a great project, the man wouldhave but little chance. But he had loved her since he knew the meaningof the word, and he had resolved to risk everything that was left tohim to win back what had once been within his grasp. If in the end hefailed and the other man won—well, so much the worse for the otherman.

And then there was Sophie Valdemar. Even if this English-American didtake Adelaide from him——But that was another matter, the fragment ofa possible destiny which still lay upon the knees of the gods. If theworst came to the worst, what would Russia not give to know all thathe knew and all that was contained in the only legacy that his fatherhad left him.

So thinking, he travelled to Paris, leaving his uniform behind him,and dressed just as an ordinary man about town, quietly, but withexquisite care and neatness.

As soon as he had settled himself in a modest hotel in one of thestreets of the Avenue de l'Opé, he wrote a discreetly-worded note toone of the secretaries of the Ministry of War, a former schoolfellowof his, with whom he had had previous communications of a confidentialsort, asking him to arrange a private interview for him with theMinister at the earliest possible date, and, if possible, to dine withhim the next evening. The next morning he called to pay his respectsto Madame de Bourbon and the marquise at the hotel they had taken inthe Avenue Neuilly.

He met the marquise alone in the salon. She received him quietly andalmost coldly—but this he had expected.

"So you have finally decided," she said. "I thought from your letterthat you would do so. How very different you looken civile!Really, although we naturally hate the sight of them, still, it mustbe admitted that those German uniforms do make a good-looking man lookhis best."

"Yes," replied Victor, choking down his chagrin as best he might; "toa certain extent it is true, after all, that the feathers make thebird, and so, of course, the clothes make the man. Still, I'm afraid Ishall have to ask you to tolerate me for the future without my Germanplumage. As you say, I have made my decision. I have broken withGermany for ever. Henceforth, I am a son of France—and, Adelaide, Ihave come to ask a daughter of France to help me to serve her."

"Of France!" she echoed, drawing herself up, and looking at him with ahalf-angry glint in her eyes, "of what France? Of this nation of snobsand shopkeepers, ruled by a combination of stockbrokers, heavy-wittedbourgeoisie and political adventurers? or the old France—myFrance—the France of my ancestors, as it was in the days when thegreat Louis said: 'L'état c'est moi'? The one is not worth saving; theother might be worth restoring."

"But this France of the bourgeoisie must first be saved, so that wemay make out of it the foundation for the throne of the great Louis.If we succeed, Adelaide, as it is still possible that we may do, weshall be strong enough to abolish the salic law and to enthrone you asEmpress of the French."

"Of France, if you please! My ancestors were Kings of France. Even theCorsican dared only style himself Emperor of the French. You seem toforget that I am a daughter of the Bourbons, a scion of the olderline, and that therefore France is my personal heritage. But come,"she went on, with a swift change of tone and manner, "it will be timeenough to talk about that when I am nearer to my inheritance than I amnow. You said that you wanted my help—how? What can I do now, leftalone as I am?"

"Not quite alone, Adelaide," he said, half reproachfully. "Have I notgiven up everything, even, as some would say, sacrificed honouritself, to help you to win back that which is your own by every right?And you can help me as no one else can. I have a friend in theMinistry of War—Gaston Leraulx, one of the secretaries. We wereschool-fellows and college friends. He is to dine with me to-night,and he will arrange an interview with the Minister of War. I shall askyou to come with me to that interview."

"What do you say, Victor? You wish me, a princess of the House ofBourbons to enter the bureau of one of these ministers—thesepoliticians who are ruling in the place of the old noblesse—men whomwe might perhaps have employed as lacqueys?"

"That is true," he replied; "but remember, Adelaide, that time bringsits differences. My ancestors were nobles when yours were kings. Ifthe old order of things is to be restored we must use these people asmeans to an end. I ask you to come with me to the Minister of War, sothat you may help me to convince him, from your own knowledge, of theterrible mistake that he made when he refused to entertain the projectthat my father placed before him.

"You can tell him that strange story of how my father in his despaircommitted his body and his secret to the sea; how the sea gave it upinto the hands of our worst enemies—the enemies of yesterday, to-day,and to-morrow—England and America; and how, even now, they arespending their millions upon that upon which France would not evenrisk a few paltry thousands.

"When I place my papers before him he will see that they are identicalwith my father's, and I shall give him others which will make itimpossible for him to doubt my faith; and you, you will be there tohelp me with your knowledge, with the prestige of your name, and withyour beauty. The General may be all that you think him, but do notforget that he is a Frenchman, and that all Frenchmen who are notquite mad respect and admire at least two things——"

"And those are—what?" she said, taking a couple of steps towards him,and speaking in a low, earnest tone. "Am I to understand you to meanthat this man—I know that he is one of the most able men that Francecan boast of—might perhaps be made an instrument of?"

"I mean," said Victor, taking her hand unresistingly, "that GeneralDucros is himself an aristocrat, a man whose forefathers served yourswell; that he is a Frenchman whose spirit will recognise yours asbeing of similar lineage, whose eyes will not be blind, and whose earswill not be deaf. Surely, Adelaide, you see by this time what I mean:you see how, with you, I may succeed in everything, and, without you,I may fail. And, remember, if I fail there is an end of everything.This is our last hope. If it is not realised, these accursed Englishand Americans will be masters of the situation, masters of the world,indeed. Surely, Adelaide, for the sake of all that is past and allthat may be to come you will not say no?"

"No, Victor; I will not," she replied, still allowing her hand to restin his, and yet thinking the while of that other man, whose face wasever present to her eyes, and whose voice was ever echoing in herears. "I will visit this Minister of yours with you. His name is good,and perhaps he may not be unworthy of it. At any rate, he is notdisgraced by one of those new titles of the First or Second Empire. IfI can help you I will; trust me for that. When it is arranged send mea telegram and our carriage is at your disposal. Ah, who is this?"

Victor Fargeau saw at a glance that the count and Sophie were dressedin half-mourning, and instantly divined that their visit was one ofcondolence. This, of course, gave him a most excellent excuse to makehis adieux.

There was just a glimmer of taunting mockery in Sophie's brillianteyes as she recognised the dashing young cavalry officer in the sobergarb of civil life, but it passed like a flash, and as they shookhands she said:

"A most unexpected meeting, captain!" And then, with a look of frankchallenge, "No doubt it is most important business that has broughtyou to Parisen civile."

"It is not without importance, countess, at least to my own poor andpresently insignificant self. Whether," he went on, with a swiftinvoluntary glance at Adelaide, who was receiving the condolences ofthe count, "it will ever be of importance to others is one of thesecrets of fate; and, if so, you, who are no doubt justly creditedwith knowing half the secrets of Europe, will probably be one of thefirst to discover the fact."

"I wonder whether that is intended for a compliment or the reverse,"said Sophie, with a look of challenge coming back into her eyes. "Yousee, captain, there are two sorts of people who are supposed to knoweverything—diplomatists and spies."

Victor did his best to preserve his composure, but Sophie's watchfuleyes saw that the shot had gone home; still, the next moment hereplied, with the stiff wooden-doll bow of the German officer, andwithout a tremor in his voice:

"It would be quite impossible that mam'selle could be anything but oneof the two."

"Well hit, captain! that was very nicely put. I think you and I wouldmake better friends than enemies, and in proof of my belief, let metell you a secret which is not of Europe. An Anglo-American syndicatehas for some reason or other leased several square miles round theMagnetic Pole in Boothia Land, British North America."

"Really! And might I ask why? It doesn't seem to be a very profitableinvestment in landed property."

"Who knows?" said Sophie, with a little shrug of her shapelyshoulders. "These English and Americans, you know, are always doingthe maddest things. I shouldn't wonder if they intended to turn theAurora borealis into electric light for Chicago."

"I wonder how much our ex-captain really knows, and if my dear friendAdelaide here knows anything or not," said Sophie, in her soul, whenVictor had made his adieux and the door closed behind him.

It was not until four days later that Victor's friend in the Ministryof War was able to procure an appointment for him with General Ducros.Pressure of business was Captain Gaston Leraulx' explanation, and itwas an honest one. What he did not know was that on the evening of theday when Count Valdemar and his daughter paid their visit ofcondolence to Adelaide de Condé, General Ducros dined with them.

They had no other guest, for the best of reasons. Countess Sophie, theomniscient, by means of a happy accident, had got a fairly clear ideaof the outlines of the Great Storage Scheme. The servants of the WhiteTzar are everywhere, known or unknown, generally the latter. A Russiantrapper happened to meet a French-Canadian voyageur in Montreal whenShafto Hardress was making his negotiations with the CanadianGovernment. They had a few drinks and a talk over the extraordinarydeal that he had made with the Canadian Government, a deal which hadbeen reported and commented on by the Canadian and American journalswith the usual luxuriance of speculative imagination. The same nightthe voyageur and the trapper, both men who were living on the productsof their season's hunting and trapping, cabled practically the samedetails to Paris and Petersburg.

The voyageur's telegram had gone to General Ducros; and he, with theinstinct of a soldier and a statesman, had instantly connected it withthe greatest mistake that he had made in his life, his refusal toentertain the proposal which Doctor Emil Fargeau had laid before him.He saw that he had refused even to examine a scheme which thisAnglo-American syndicate had somehow got hold of and thought it worththeir while to spend thousands of pounds even in preliminarydevelopment. As he said to himself when the unwelcome news came tohim, "I have committed a crime—for I have made a mistake, and forstatesmen mistakes are something worse than crimes."

As soon as the Russian trapper's message had reached Count Valdemar,he immediately discussed it with his daughter, who over and over againhad given proof of an almost clairvoyant insight into the mostdifficult and intricate concerns of international diplomacy. Themoment she saw it her instinct led her back to the reception at theGerman Embassy in Petersburg.

"It was all very easy, after all, general," she said, when the dinnerwas over, and the coffee and liqueurs were on the table. "If you willpardon me saying so, it is in cases like this that the intuition ofthe woman outstrips the logical faculty of the man. You have asked mehow I discovered the connection between the interview between yourselfand Doctor Fargeau, which, as you say, ended somewhat unhappily forFrance, and this extraordinary purchase of a seemingly worthlesslanded property by Viscount Hardress."

"Ah yes," said the general, knocking the ash off his cigarette."Statesmen are not supposed to make mistakes, but to you, Ma'm'selle,and Monsieur le Comte, I must confess, to my most intense chagrin, theman was an Alsatian, and had accepted the new order of things in theprovinces, he was a German subject, and his son was a German officeron the general staff. What could I think?"

"My dear general," replied Sophie, after a long whiff at her yellowRussian cigarette, "your conclusions were perfectly just under thecircumstances. But when you have had your interview with CaptainFargeau and my dear friend the marquise, I think you will find that,after all, they were erroneous. Do you not think so, papa?"

"I fancy," replied the count, slowly, "that when you have made yourexplanations to the general, he will agree with you."

"Very well, then, general, I will spin my little thread before you,and you shall see whether it holds together or not. First, there wasthat snatch of a conversation that I heard at the German Embassyreception in Petersburg. Captain Fargeau was talking with the latePrince de Condé, and he was called away by one of the servants. Fromanother source I knew afterwards that he had received a telegram fromStrassburg. He came back, and made a pretence of dancing with my verydear friend, Adelaide de Condé. They went out into the winter garden,just in front of myself and my partner. I heard him tell her that 'he'had succeeded, and gone to Paris.

"You have told me of his father's visit to you. The chief part of hisscheme was the building of these works round the Magnetic Pole inBoothia Land. The prince and Adelaide go to a little out-of-the-wayplace in Germany, called Elsenau. The fashionable papers told us that.They also told us that Lord Orrel and his daughter were there; andalmost the same day arrives this Viscount Branston, Lord Orrel's son.The prince suddenly and mysteriously dies—as they say, from thebursting of a blood-vessel on the brain. Of course, all the paperstell us of that, and also that Viscount Branston goes to Vienna andbrings back Madame de Bourbon, who is here now, in Paris, withAdelaide.

"Before this, you and my father have the telegrams from our goodfriends out yonder in Canada. Then the Canadian and American papersconfirm this, and tell us that this same Viscount Branston has leasedthis very spot of seemingly worthless land, which was, as you tell us,essential to the carrying out of Emil Fargeau's scheme, and that agreat Anglo-American syndicate has been formed to build an observatorythere, or a central station for the control of wireless telegraphythroughout the world; and so on. No doubt the newspaper stories are asfamiliar to you as they are to us. Now, general, do you see theconnection between that scrap of conversation I heard in Petersburg,and the purchase of that patch of snow-covered rock in Boothia Land?"

"Ma'm'selle," replied the general, "it is not a thread, but a chain,and there is not a weak link in it. It is perfectly plain now thatthere is a connection between this German officer, at present on leavein Paris, and these English and Americans who have somehow becomepossessed of the details of the scheme which I so unfortunatelyrejected. Still, until we have heard what Captain Fargeau and yourfriend the Marquise de Montpensier, whom I am to have the honour ofreceiving to-morrow, have to say, it would not, I think, be wise toconclude that they have entered into a conspiracy with those whom Imay describe as our common enemies."

"That, general, I do not believe for a moment," said the count. "Alltheir interests lie the other way. They have as much reason to dislikeEngland and America as we have; and, until I know to the contrary, Ishall prefer to believe that the Marquise de Montpensier, a daughterof the Bourbons, is a friend to France, and therefore, through France,to Russia."

"And I believe that too," said Sophie. "As far as England and Americaare concerned, the interests of France and Russia are identical. Ifthese arrogant Anglo-Saxons are ever to be put into their properplace, Russia and France must do it: and, to begin with, by some meansor other, this scheme must be frustrated. And now, general, I havegiven you a little information to-night, and I am going to ask alittle favour in return."

"There is, I believe," said Sophie, putting her arms on the table, "alittle apartment leading out of your own bureau at the Ministry ofWar?"

General Ducros could not help raising his eyelids a little, for heknew that neither Sophie nor her father had ever been in that room,but he dropped them again instantly, and said:

"That is perfectly true, ma'm'selle; it is a little apartment, devotedto my own private use. In fact, to tell you the truth, I am sometimesthere when it is convenient for my secretary to prove by oculardemonstration to some more or less important personage that I am notat home, and that, in consequence of my unavoidable absence, anundesirable interview has to be postponed."

"Exactly," laughed Sophie. "Such things are not unknown elsewhere; andI am going to ask you, general, for the use of that room during yourinterview to-morrow with the Marquise de Montpensier and CaptainFargeau. In other words, I wish to be present at the interview withoutdoing anything to interrupt the smooth course of the proceedings."

"Ma'm'selle knows so much already that there is no reason why sheshould not know more," replied the general, not very cordially; "but,of course, it is understood, as a matter of honour between ourselves,that in this matter we are allies, as our countries are."

"Undoubtedly," replied the count. "It would, indeed, be mutuallyimpossible for it to be otherwise."

"Then," said Sophie, "we will consider that a bargain. My father and Iwill call shortly before the captain and Adelaide reach the Ministry,and afterwards——"

"And afterwards, my dear general, if you will allow me to interruptyou," said the count, "I would suggest that we should have a littledinner here, to which Sophie will invite Madame de Bourbon and themarquise, as well as Captain Fargeau; a dinner which, if you willpermit me to say so, may possibly be of historic interest; an occasionupon which, perhaps, the alliance between France and Russia will becemented by a mutual agreement and arrangement to outwit theseEnglish-Americans, and secure the world-empire for France and Russia."

General Ducros assented. He saw that, owing to the fatal mistake hehad made when he rejected Emil Fargeau's scheme, he was now, thanks tothe subtle intellect of Sophie Valdemar, forced to share thepossibility of obtaining that world-empire with Russia, the ally whosefriendship had already cost France so dearly, an ally to whom Francehad paid millions for a few empty assurances and one or two brilliantscenes in the international spectacular drama. No one knew better thanhe did how worthless this alliance really was to France, and thatnight he reproached himself bitterly for letting slip the chance ofmaking France independent of her blood-sucking ally. Still, by anextraordinary combination of chance and skill, Sophie Valdemar had gotthe necessary knowledge of the great secret, and, perforce, he had toshare it with her and Russia.

Punctually at eleven o'clock the next morning Adelaide de Condé andVictor Fargeau were admitted to the bureau of the Minister of War. Theinterview was very different from the one that he had granted to theman whom his scepticism had practically driven to his death, and soplaced the great secret in the hands of his country's enemies. It wasalso much shorter. When, at the outset, the general had addressedVictor as Captain Fargeau, he replied:

"Pardon, general, I am captain no longer, nor am I any longer aGerman. I have resigned. Henceforth I am a Frenchman in fact, as Ihave always been in heart. You would not believe that of my father,but I will prove it to you of myself."

"My dear sir," replied the general, "no one could be more delighted tohear such news as that than I; and I can promise you that, in thatcase, an appointment—not, of course, an acknowledged one, since youare not now legally a Frenchman—shall be placed at your disposal."

Adelaide turned her head away as he spoke, and her lips curled into asmile which made her look almost ugly. "So now he is to become a paidspy," she thought. "And he still considers that I am pledged to him.But what can I do till we have either succeeded or failed? Ah, if itwere only the other one! If he were a Frenchman, or if only I couldmake him love me as I could—well, we shall see. After all, patriotismhas its limits. France has broken its allegiance to my house. What doI owe it?"

General Ducros saw at a glance that the specifications which Victorhanded to him were the duplicates of those which he had so unwiselyand so unfortunately for himself and for France refused to accept fromhis father. If anything had been needed to convince him of theterrible error that he had made, Adelaide's story of the last night ofher father's life would have done it.

"Monsieur," he said, laying his hand upon the papers, "I will confessthat I have made a great mistake, even that I have committed a crimeagainst France and your father. Alas, as we know now from the storythat Ma'm'selle la Marquise has told us, he is dead; and it is I who,innocently and unknowingly, sent him to his death. I can do no morethan admit my error, and promise you that every force at my commandshall be used to repair it, if possible. These other documents, whichyou have been good enough to hand to me, I take, of course, as anearnest of your good faith and your devotion to France."

"I wonder what they are," said Sophie Valdemar, in her soul, as theMinister's words reached her ear through the closed door of the littleprivate room. "An Alsatian, a German officer, Military Attaché atPetersburg, he resigns his commission, goes back to his Frenchallegiance, and gives the general something which proves his goodfaith! Ah, perhaps a scheme of campaign—sketches of routes—detailsof mobilisation—plans of fortresses! We must fight Germany soon. Iwonder whether I could persuade the good general to let me have a lookat them, if they are anything of that sort."

While these thoughts were flashing through Sophie's mind, the generalwas saying:

"And now, monsieur, you mentioned a short time ago that you had ascheme for repairing the error which I have confessed. May I ask foran outline of it? I need hardly say that, if it is only feasible,France will spare neither money nor men to accomplish the object, andto regain what I have so deplorably lost."

"My scheme, general," said Victor, "is exceedingly simple. TheseEnglish-Americans are going to erect storage works round the MagneticPole, which, as of course you know, is situated in the far north, in asort of No-man's Land, untrodden by human feet once in half-a-century.Let France fit out an Arctic expedition of two ships. Let them be oldwarships—as theAlert andDiscovery were in the Englishexpedition. Their mission will, of course, be a peaceful one, andtheir departure will cause no comment save in the scientific papers,but in their holds the ships will carry the most powerful guns theycan mount, ammunition, and——"

"Excellent!" interrupted the general, rising from his seat. "My dearmonsieur, I congratulate you upon a brilliant idea. Yes, theexpedition shall be prepared with all speed; the newspapers shalldescribe the ships as old ones, but the Minister of Marine and myselfwill arrange that they shall carry the best guns and the most powerfulexplosives that we have. They shall be manned by picked crews,commanded by our best officers; they shall sail for the North Pole, orthereabouts, as all these expeditions do, and they shall make afriendly call at Boothia Land. It will not be possible now before nextsummer because of the ice; but the same cause will delay our friendsin building the storage works; and when our ships call and the worksare well in progress—well, then, we will see whether or not ourfriends will yield to logic; and, if not, to force majeure. Is thatyour idea?"

"Exactly," replied Victor. "We will wait till the works are finished,say this time next year, or two years or three years, it mattersnothing, and then we will take them. The expedition will carry mentrained to do the work under my orders. I have the whole working ofthe apparatus in those papers. Once we possess the works we aremasters of the world, because we shall be possessors of its very life.But before that there may be war—the nations of Europe fighting forthe limbs of the Yellow Giant in the East. Germany, as you will seefrom those papers, is nearly ready. It is only a matter of a fewmonths, and then she will make her first rush on France. England andAmerica can be rendered helpless if we once seize the works, andRussia can, I presume, be trusted?"

"Yes," said Sophie again, in her soul; "provided she has a share inthat Polar expedition, as she shall have."

Nearly a year had passed since General Ducros had dined with CountValdemar and Ma'm'selle Sophie in Paris. It was Cowes week, and therewas quite a cosmopolitan party at Orrel Court. Adelaide de Condé andMadame de Bourbon were the best of friends with Count Valdemar andSophie. Clifford Vandel and Miss Chrysie were good friends witheverybody, the latter especially good friends with Hardress, whosework was now rapidly approaching completion. In short, it was ascharming a cosmopolitan party as you could have found on the Hampshireshore, or anywhere else; and none of the other guests of Lord Orrel,and there were several of them not unskilled in diplomacy, ever dreamtthat under the surface of the smooth-flowing conversation, whetherround the dinner-table at the Court, on theNadine, which randown the Southampton Water every day that there was a good race on, orat Clifford Vandel's bungalow at Cowes, whose smoothly shaven lawnsloped down almost to the water's edge, lay undercurrents of plot andcounterplot, the issue of which was the question whether the dominionof the world was to be committed to Anglo-Saxon or Franco-Slav hands.

One night—it was the evening after the great regatta—threeconversations took place under the roof of Orrel Court, which thegreatest newspapers of the two hemispheres would have given any amountof money to be able to report, since each of them was possiblypregnant with the fate of the world.

When Clifford Vandel came up from the smoking-room a little aftereleven he found Miss Chrysie waiting for him in the sitting-room ofthe suite of apartments that had been given to them in the easternwing of the old mansion.

"Don't you think you ought to be in bed, Chrysie, instead of sittingthere smoking a cigarette, and—Why, what's the matter with you,girl?"

He had begun with something like a note of reproach in his voice, butthe last words were spoken in a tone of tender concern.

She got up from her chair, went to the door, and shut it and lockedit, and then, with her half-smoked cigarette poised between herfingers, her face pale, and her eyes aflame, she faced him and said,in low, quick-flowing tones:

"Poppa, can't you see what's the matter?—you, who can see thingsmonths before they happen, and make millions by gambling on them?—youwho did up Morgan himself over that wireless telegraphy combine—can'tyou see what's going on right here just under your nose?"

"My dear Chrysie, what are you talking about? I've not noticedanything particular happening, except what's happened in the rightway. What's the trouble?"

"The trouble's that Frenchwoman—that second edition of MarieAntoinette. Can't you see what she's doing every hour and day of herlife? Can't you see that she's as beautiful as an angel, and—well, asclever as the other thing, and that she's just playing her hand forall she's worth to get the man I want—the man I half-promised myselfto a year ago!"

"Perhaps I've been too busy about other matters, and perhaps I neverexpected anything of the sort," replied her father; "and anyhow, menare fools at seeing this kind of thing; but if that's so, and youreally do want him, why not promise yourself altogether and fix thingsup? There's no man I'd sooner have for a son-in-law; and if you wanthim, and he wants you, why——"

"It's just there, poppa, that I'm feeling bad about it," she said,coming nearer to him, and speaking with a little break in her voice."I'm not so sure that he does want me now—at least, not quite asbadly as he did that time when he asked me first in Buffalo. Don't yousee that Frenchwoman's bewitched him? And who could blame him, afterall? What do all the society papers say about her? The most beautifulwoman in Europe—the great-great-grand-daughter of Louis theMagnificent himself, with the noblest blood of France in her veins!How could any man with eyes in his head and blood in his heart resisther? Why, I could no more compare with her than——"

"Than a wild rose in one of these beautiful English lanes couldcompare with a special variety of an orchid in a hothouse; and Iguess, Chrysie, that if I haven't made a great mistake about ShaftoHardress—if he does get a bit intoxicated with the scent of theorchid, if it comes to winning and wearing the flower, he'll take thewild rose. If he doesn't—well, I guess you'll do pretty well withouthim."

"But I just can't do without him, poppa. You are the only one I'd tellit to, but that's so; and before that Frenchwoman gets him I'd haveher out and shoot her. Women in her country fight duels. And there'smore to it than that," she went on, after a little pause.

"And what might that be, Miss Fire-eater?" said her father,half-laughing, half-seriously.

"I believe that she and that Russian girl, who goes languishing aroundShafto when the marquise or myself isn't around, know more than theyshould do about this storage scheme. I don't say I've beenlistening—I wouldn't do it—no, not even for them; but sometimes youcan't help hearing; and only the day before yesterday, out in thegrounds there, I heard both of them, not to each other, but atdifferent times to Count Valdemar, mention the name of Victor Fargeau;and you know who he is—son of the man whose remains Shafto picked upat sea—creator of this great scheme of yours—a Frenchman who was anofficer in the German army. Now listen: both these women are friendsof General Ducros, the French War Minister. France is sending out thePolar expedition this year that she has been preparing for months—youknow that; so has Russia. Do you see what I mean now?"

"I guess you've got me on my own ground there, Chrysie," said herfather, laying his hand across her shoulders, and drawing her towardshim. "You were dead right when you said that a woman's intuition cansometimes see quicker and farther than a man's reason; but on thatkind of ground I guess I can see as well as anyone. I admit that Ihave been wondering a bit why just this particular year France andRussia should be sending two Polar expeditions out; but it's prettywell sure that if you hadn't seen that this French marquise and theRussian countess were after the man you want—and the man you're goingto get, too, if he's the man I think he is—I shouldn't have seen whatI see now."

"They're not Polar expeditions at all, Chrysie; those ships are nomore trying to go to the North Pole than they're trying to find thesource of the Amazon. You got the key that opens the whole show whenyou heard them talking about Victor Fargeau. They're going to BoothiaLand, that's where they're going to, and they're not going on what theRussians generally call a voyage of scientific discovery. I'd betevery dollar we've got in the Trust that those ships have guns onthem, and there's going to be a fight for that Magnetic Pole afterall. Anyhow, there's a cable going across to Doctor Lamson the firstthing to-morrow morning. If there's anything like that going on, hecan't be on guard any too soon. And now, little girl," he went on,raising his hand and putting it on her head, "you go to bed, and don'tyou worry about Frenchwomen or Russians. Shafto Hardress comes of goodold English and American stock, and he's just as clever as he can bewithout being altogether American. Don't you worry about him. There'snot going to be any trouble in his mind when he has to choose betweena clean-blooded, healthy American girl and anyone else, even if shehas got all the blood of all the Bourbons in her veins, or even if sheis the daughter of Count Valdemar of Russia, whose ancestors, I guess,were half savages when yours were gentlemen. Don't you worry aboutthat, little girl; you just go to bed, and dream about the time whenyou'll be sitting on a throne that Marie Antoinette's wasn't acircumstance to. Now, I have told you, and that's so. Good-night. I'llhave a talk with Lord Orrel to-morrow morning, and see to the businesspart of the affair."

As Chrysie crossed the long corridor to her own room she caught aglimpse of a tall, graceful figure which she had come to know only toowell, and the sweep of a long, trailing skirt, vanishing through adoor which she knew led into Count Valdemar's dressing-room.

"That's Sophie," she said. "I wonder if she saw me. She's been withthe marquise, I suppose; and now she's going to have a talk with herfather, something like mine with poppa. It's mean to listen, and Icouldn't do it if I wanted to, but I'd like to give some of thosedollars that poppa's going to make out of this scheme to hear whatshe's going to say, or what she's been saying to the marquise. Ireckon I could make some history out of it if I knew; but anyhow,there's going to be trouble with that Frenchwoman. I don't think somuch about the Russian. I believe she wants to marry either Lord Orrelor poppa; she's just about as mean as she is pretty and clever. I'djust like to say that English swear-word about her."

Miss Chrysie said that, and many other things, in her soul that nightafter she had laid her head on her pillow; and, even after the demandsof physical fatigue upon a perfectly healthy physique had compelledslumber, she dreamt of herself as a modern Juno, usurping the throneof Jove, and wielding his lightnings, with the especial object ofdestroying utterly from the face of the earth two young ladies, withwhom she was living on apparent terms of the most perfect friendship,and who were even then resting their pretty heads on pillows just likehers under the same roof.

Sophie opened the door in answer to her father's murmured "entrez,"and closed it very gently behind her. She had not noticed Chrysie asshe slipped into her own room, for her back was towards her, and,happily, she had no suspicion whatever of the conclusions whichChrysie's love-sharpened eyes had enabled her to reach. If she had,some skilfully-devised accident would probably have happened. Forthough but two people among the guests at Orrel Court knew it, therewere spies both inside and around the great house, unscrupulous agentsof an unscrupulous government, who would have carried out their ordersat all hazards. In fact, they had been brought there by CountValdemar, at his daughter's suggestion, to assist in working out themost daring conspiracy that had ever been hatched at an Englishcountry house.

"Well, papa," said Sophie, in her soft Russian, as she took acigarette, and dropped into an easy-chair with a motion that wasalmost voluptuous in its gracefulness, "now that these good peoplehave gone to bed, we shall be able to have a little quiet talk. Areyou still of opinion that the scheme that I sketched out is feasible?"

"Everything is feasible, my dear Sophie," replied her father,"provided only you have people of sufficient genius and boldness tocarry it out. No doubt it would be possible with our own people, andthose of the English sailors whom we have been able to bribe, to carryout that brilliant plan of yours, especially as you appear to havewrought such a magical transformation in the allegiance of thisimpressionable young engineer of yours on theNadine. Are youquite sure of him?"

"Sure of him!" said Sophie, in a voice that was little above awhisper, and leaning forward and looking at her father with a smilewhich made even him think her beauty almost repulsive for the moment."Edward Williams is as much in love as Boris Bernovitch was, andis—although he is where he is. I have promised, as usual. He hasbelieved me, as usual, just like any other fool of his sex. Day afterday I have met him and talked with him in what he calls my adorableforeign English. I have given him rendezvous which would have startledmy Lord Orrel and all his belongings out of that abominable, habitualcalm of theirs, and perhaps procured me a request to leave the houseimmediately. I have fooled him out of his seven senses, and to-night Ihave performed the supreme sacrifice for Russia, and let him kiss me."

The cruelly smiling lips changed into an expression of contemptuousdisgust as she said this, and the count replied, coldly:

"Not a pleasant duty, Sophie; but for Holy Russia her servants must doeverything. That, as I have tried to teach you almost as soon as youcould speak, is our duty, almost our religion. Our fortune, our lives,our everything must be devoted to the emperor and to Holy Russia—soonnow, I hope, to be mistress of the world. You as a woman, and abeautiful woman, have your weapons; I as a man, and a diplomatist,have mine. It is your duty to use yours with as little scruple as Iuse mine.

"And so you really think," he went on, after a little pause, "that itwill be possible to capture theNadine, with all her noble andgallant company on board, and compel her to join our Russianexpedition to Boothia Land. Certainly, it would be a brilliant triumphif we could. We should have all the heads of the great Trust at ourmercy—Lord Orrel, his son, and this most objectionablystraightforward Clifford Vandel, who, it would appear, has so vastlyimproved upon the original scheme. Then we should have the womankindtoo—Lady Olive, Miss Vandel, and the beautiful marquise herself,always dangerous power that might work against us. By the way, Sophie,has it struck you that the young viscount is wavering in hisallegiance to the fair American under the influence of the beautifuldaughter of the Condés?"

"As well ask me whether I am a woman, father," she replied, with alow, wicked-sounding laugh. "Have I no eyes in my head? Did not thisfair American interfere with my plan for securing the noble Shafto toourselves by making him fall in love with her before I saw him, andhave I not done everything, all the thousand and one little thingsthat a woman can do, to help my dear friend the marquise to theattainment of her very evident desires? In other words, have Iforgotten the lessons that you have been teaching me since you beganto train me to think myself not a girl with a heart and a soul, andliving blood in her veins, but only a human machine, fair to lookupon, animated by a brain which knows no other duty than the serviceof our Holy Russia? You know that if I had loved this man myself itwould have been just the same. I should have done exactly as I havedone,—at least, I believe so."

"Ah," laughed the count, softly, "that is the problem, my dear Sophie;and that, I tell you frankly, has always been my fear for you. You areyoung, brilliant, and beautiful; and I've always been a little afraidthat out of some of all your admirers whom your smiles have brought toyour feet there might be one whom you might love; and when a womanloves she pities, and pity and diplomacy have as much to do with eachother as charity and business. Still, I am not without hopes that someday you will meet some worthy son of Russia; and remember, my Sophie,that, if we succeed in this, if we place the control of the elixirvitæ of the world in the hand of Russia, you might look even near thethrone itself."

"And I most certainly should," said Sophie, throwing her head back. "Itell you frankly, papa, I'm not doing all this for nothing. I am notforgetting that I am a woman, with all a woman's natural feelings andinspirations, all her possible loves and hopes and pities, only forthe sake of serving even Russia. If I succeed I shall have my reward,and it shall be a splendid one."

"And you will have well deserved it," said the count, looking withsomething more than fatherly pride on the beautiful daughter who hadlearnt the lessons of what he was pleased to call diplomacy so well."Still, I cannot disguise from myself that this last scheme of yoursis, to say the least of it, a desperate one; for it amounts to nothingless than a kidnapping of one of the best-known noblemen and statesmenin England, his son and daughter, one of the wealthiest and best-knownAmerican financiers in the world and his daughter; to say nothing ofone of the Ministers of the Tsar and his daughter. I need hardlyremind you, of course, that the failure of such a venture would neverbe forgiven in Petersburg. I need not tell you that the Little Fathernever pardons mistakes, and, besides, my dear Sophie, have you quitesatisfied yourself that such a very extreme measure is absolutelynecessary?"

"My dear papa," said Sophie, getting up from her chair, and raisingher voice ever so little, "in the first place, there will be—therecan be no mistake about it; and, in the second place, I assure youthat it is absolutely necessary if Russia is to have undisputedcontrol of the Storage Works. You see, the outside world knowsabsolutely nothing about these works. There have been all sorts ofstories circulated about them, but no one who has actually seen themhas said or written a word about them. In fact, as far as we know,only two men have been there and come back—Viscount Branston and MrVandel; Dr Lamson is there still. How do we know what means of defencethey've got? They might be able even now, from what Victor Fargeau andGeneral Ducros told us, to demagnetise our ships, stop our enginesfrom working and our guns from shooting; or, on the other hand, whatwould be almost as bad, this Lamson might blow up the works andshatter every plan we've got—perhaps ruin all prospects of theinvasion, too, unless we have some means of persuading him not to usehis power. What better means could we have than the possession of theheads of the concern?

"I have heard hints, too, that he is not without hopes of winning thefair Lady Olive some day, when he becomes one of the masters of theworld. Granted now that it is within our power to do what we pleasewith all of them, or, if you like to put it diplomatically, with theheads of this gigantic conspiracy against the peace and security ofthe world, and plot to destroy the independence of the nations and thefreedom of humanity, for it is nothing else, should we not bejustified in using any and every means—yes," she went on, her voicehardening, "even to the very last means of all, to snatch thistremendous power out of the hands of these sordid English andAmericans and give it into those of Holy Russia. It is kidnapping,piracy, invasion of friendly territory—everything, I grant you, thatis criminal under the law of nations; but remember it is also astruggle for the command of the life-force of the world—which meanspractically the control of the world itself and all that therein is."

"And," said the count, smiling, "I suppose you would say that, asthese people are our natural enemies, with whom we shall very soon beat war—'à la guerre comme à la guerre'—I suppose you mean that whenwe have got theNadine and her noble company we shall use themas hostages to prevent any accidents happening to our little Polarexpedition. Really, my dear Sophie, your methods have suddenly becomealmost mediæval; still, if they are only successful, they will be nonethe less effective for that. Let me see now," he went on, leaning backin his chair and putting the tips of his fingers together, "I wonderif I can find any flaw in the arrangements. You know, it is quiteessential, my dear Sophie, that there should not be any."

"My dear papa," she replied, smiling, and leaning her back against theold carved mantelpiece, "try, by all means. If you cannot find one, Idon't think there can be much chance of its being anything butpractically perfect."

"Very well," said the count, lighting a fresh cigarette. "In two orthree days' time, when the regattas are over, the house-party at OrrelCourt will break up, and a few days after that, say a week in all,Lord Orrel, with his son and daughter, and the American and hisdaughter, and Ma'm'selle la Marquise as Lady Olive's guest, are takinga trip across the Atlantic in theNadine, partly in the courseof business and partly on pleasure bent; Madame de Bourbon and hermaids return to Paris; theVlodoya puts into Southamptonthe day theNadine sails, to take us on our trip to theMediterranean. Your good friend the lieutenant has informed you that,although theNadine can make twenty knots on an emergency, shewill only take a leisurely summer trip across the Atlantic to Boston,at about twelve or fifteen. He has given you a chart of the coursewhich she will take. He has also promised you that at a certain spotin mid-Atlantic there shall be a little accident to her engines whichenable theVlodoya to overtake her. TheVlodoya,commanded and well manned by good servants of the empire, with acouple of three-pounders and a Maxim in case of accident, willoverhaul her and give her the alternative of surrender or sinking.That is where the piracy will begin, I suppose."

Sophie nodded, and, laughing, replied in English: "Yes, rightthere—as our American beauty, as Lord Hardress thinks her, would say.TheNadine is unarmed, and, of course, resistance will beuseless; in fact, it would simply be the merest folly. His lordshipwill accept us and a portion of theVlodoya's crew asself-invited guests; we shall then steam away together, not to Boston,but to the rendezvous with our little expedition, and once we joinforces—well, the thing is practically done."

"I agree so far," said her father; "still, there are one or twoaccidents that we have not yet taken into account. Suppose, forinstance, one of these detestable British cruisers, which seem to beeverywhere, should happen to be there just then; or that even one ofthe big liners should come in sight at the critical moment. It seemsto me that, for the present at least, secrecy is above all thingsessential, for if the news of—well, such an outrage, did get back toEurope, you know perfectly well that Russia would of necessity disownus, and that we and all on board theVlodoya would simply betreated as common pirates."

"So I suppose," said Sophie, coolly; "but I have provided for that,because the day and place of rendezvous have been arranged so as toavoid the possibility of meeting any of the regular liners, and I havebeen careful to ascertain that no British warship will just then beunder orders to cross the Atlantic, either from the North Americanstation or from England. As for the piracy, I don't think we needtrouble ourselves about that. Before many weeks France must forestallGermany's attack; Russia will, as we say, maintain the attitude ofbenevolent neutrality until she hears that we have got the works, thenshe will demand the surrender of the British concessions in Chinawhich conflict with her interests, and there will be war, and ouractions, however drastic, will become legal under the law of war. Infact, my dear papa, as far as I can see, there is really only onepossibility that I have not reckoned with, and that, as far as I cansee, is an impossibility."

"It is the possibility that these English or Americans—you know howquick they are at all practical methods, pig-headed and all as theyare at diplomacy—have, by some means or other, guessed that theFrench and Russian Polar expeditions have started at rather asuspicious time; I mean just when the Storage Works—these wonderfulworks, which are to light the world by electricity for a few pence anhour, and give us displays of theAurora borealis, just as wehave fireworks at public fêtes, and all the rest of it—have beencompleted. Now that, if you like, would be dangerous; for in suchdelicate work as ours success depends on surprise. Still, as I say, itis hardly possible."

"Practically impossible, I should agree with you, my dear Sophie,"said the count, making the greatest mistake of his diplomatic career;"practically impossible. What do they know? What can they suspect?"

"Unless—unless," said Sophie, suddenly, clenching her hands, "ourgood friend Adelaide de Condé, who, I tell you, papa, is in love withShafto Hardress, if woman ever was in love with man, unless she hashinted at the real meaning of these expeditions. Yes; that is a dangerwhich, I admit, I have not counted."

"Yes, yes; I think I see what you mean," replied the count; "she is aFrenchwoman, but her only interest in the destiny of France consistsin the restoration of the House of Bourbon to power; still, being aFrenchwoman, and in love, as you believe, she would also do anythingfor the sake of the man she loves, even to the ruin of her own hopes.Finally, being on this supposition the rival of Miss Vandel, she wouldstop at nothing to prove her devotion to him; and, if she did as yousuggest, Sophie, it would be a very formidable condition of affairsindeed."

"Then, papa," she replied, coming and laying her hand on his shoulder,"do you not see that that is all the greater reason why this scheme ofours must be carried through? You see that Adelaide de Condé mayherself become a source of the greatest danger; but when we have notonly her, but Miss Vandel and the man they are both in love with, aswell as the two papas and Lady Olive, completely in our power, when,for example, we could land them all on one of those driftingice-floes, to float away to somewhere where no one but the seals andbears would know what had become of them, the game would be in ourhands to play as we please."

"My dear Sophie," said the count, laying his hand upon hers, "I amdelighted to see that you have the courage of your convictions. Andnow, it is very late, or, rather, early, and I think you may as wellgo to bed and dream of success, for you have convinced me that failureis, to all intents and purposes, impossible."

As Sophie Valdemar stole quietly away to bed Clifford Vandel wasfinishing a long cable dispatch in cipher to Doctor Lamson, giving hima complete account, so far as he knew, of all that had been takingplace in Europe during the last few weeks, and concluding with thewords: "I have good reason to believe that the supposed French andRussian Polar expeditions, which will be in your latitude in a fewweeks, are really intended for the capture or destruction of theStorage Works; so take every possible precaution against attack orsurprise."

While all this plotting and counter-plotting had been going on inEngland and Europe, and France, thanks to what some might call thepatriotic treachery of Victor Fargeau, was rapidly preparing for aninvasion of Germany, which a magnificently-equipped army of nearlyfour million men meant to make a very different affair to the lastone; while Russia was swiftly and secretly massing her huge militaryand very formidable naval forces in the near and far east, and Englandhad, as usual, been muddling along, chattering over reforms on landand sea without getting them done; and while Germany, for once aboutto be taken unawares, was quietly getting ready for the inevitablestruggle, a quiet, broad-browed, deep-eyed man had been at the head ofan army of workmen, building up what was intended to be the realcapital and governing centre of the world. In the midst of a broad,barren plain, broken by great masses of rock, many of them snow-cappedand ice-crowned even in the middle of the northern summer, there rosethe walls and chimneys of what looked like a commonplace collection offactories, such as might be found in any of the manufacturingdistricts of Europe and America.

About four miles to the west, under a rocky promontory which thediscoverer of this desolate land had named Cape Adelaide, littlethinking what a connection it would have with another Adelaide, therewas a small natural harbour, navigable for about five months in theyear, constantly crowded with colliers. For over a year it had beenpacked with them. Before the previous winter set in they had beenladen with coal and machinery and building materials, and throughoutthe long winter Doctor Lamson had relentlessly pushed the work onunder rows of electric lights, which rivalled theAuroraitself.

The men were well housed and fed and lavishly paid, and so, in spiteof the cold and darkness, they had worked well and cheerfully, wellknowing that it was impossible for them to get back, save in thesteamers that brought them. By the time the ice broke and the vesselswere released another long line of them was already making its way upthrough the still half-frozen waters of Davis Strait and LancasterSound, laden with more coal, materials, and machinery. A telegraphline had been taken from Port Nelson across Hudson Bay over RaeIsthmus, and then through the Gulf of Boothia to the works, and thisput Dr Lamson in direct communication with Winnipeg and the rest ofthe world.

At intervals of two hundred miles, across the icy desert of the north,groups of huge steel masts, three hundred feet high, had been erected,and these had been continued singly or in pairs over all the principalelevations of the North American Continent, and also over Greenlandand Iceland to the north of Scotland, and thence to the rest of theBritish Islands. It was a miracle that could only have been wrought bymillions, but the millions were spent without stint, in the fullknowledge that they would be repaid in the days when it was possibleto tax the world for the privilege of living.

The Storage Works were in the form of a square, measuring four hundredfeet each way. In the exact centre of an interior square measuringfifty feet each way was that mysterious spot of earth where the needleof the compass points neither to north nor south nor east nor west,but straight down to the centre of the globe; and over it was built agreat circular tower, forty feet in diameter and a hundred feet inheight, which contained a gigantic reproduction of the instrumentwhich had stood on Doctor Emil Fargeau's table in his laboratory atStrassburg on that memorable night when he had completed the workwhich was destined to lead to his own ruin and death and to therevolutionising of the world.

From this tower ran underground, in all directions, thousands ofcopper cables leading to the gigantic storage batteries with which thegreater part of the buildings were filled. In the middle of each sideof the great square a two thousand horse-power engine was ready tofurnish the necessary electrical force in the absorber, as the greatapparatus in the centre was called.

Everything was in order to commence work; in fact, Doctor Lamson hadjust decided that he would try his engines together for the firsttime, when Clifford Vandel's telegram reached him from Southampton.

His agent in Winnipeg had kept him well informed of the principalevents going on in the world during his long isolation, and thesailing of the French and Russian Polar expeditionsvia DavisStraits had not escaped him. For a few minutes after he had read thedispatch he walked up and down the telegraph room, into which no onebut himself and Austin Vandel, Clifford's nephew and his own generalmanager, could under any circumstances gain admission, since none butthey knew the combinations of the lock which opened the steel door.

Austin was sitting at the table where he had received the message, andhe broke the silence by saying:

"I guess, doctor, that looks a bit ugly. I suppose it's that AlsatianFrenchman and that pretty Frenchwoman you were telling me about that'sfixed this up."

"There's not the slightest doubt about that," said Lamson, whoseenthusiasm for the great scheme had quite overcome his earlierscruples. "If we had only known of that other set of specifications,and managed to get hold of them somehow—still that wouldn't have donemuch good, because even then the Frenchwoman, this beautiful daughterof the Bourbons as they call her, would have given it away as soon asshe guessed what we were doing; and if she hadn't done so—well,Fargeau would have done so; so I suppose after all it's inevitable."

"If those expeditions are really armed forces, and their object is totake these works by hook or by crook, of course we must," repliedLamson. "Poor devils! I wonder what they'll feel like when we turn thedisintegrators on them?"

"Don't talk about those," said Austin. "Time enough for that when wehave to use them to save ourselves—which the Lord forbid. I sha'n'tforget that experiment of yours on poor Hudson's body; but to see itturned on to a living man! Great Scott!"

"Yes; it won't be very pleasant," said Lamson, whose rather gentle andretiring nature had become completely transformed under the influenceof the gigantic possibilities which were now at his disposal. "Butsuppose they get their ships up to Port Adelaide?—it's rathercurious, by the way, that it should have the same name as thatFrenchwoman, who, I suppose, is by this time about our most dangerousand determined enemy—but suppose they get them there, and beginknocking the works about with big guns. Suppose," he went on, withsomething like a shudder, "a shell bursts in the absorber, where arewe? And, mind you, if they come they'll bring Fargeau with them; andif they took us prisoners or killed us, he would have material enoughhere to make another one—and he would know how to do it. No, no,Vandel; if I have to defend the works I'll do it. My whole life andsoul are here now, and no Frenchman or Russian sets foot inside herewhile I'm alive, unless he comes as a prisoner."

"But look here," said Austin; "couldn't you paralyse 'em? Why not setthe engines to work, and mop up this world's soul, or whatever youcall it, right away, so that their engines should break down longbefore they got here, and just freeze them out."

"That, my dear Austin," replied the doctor, "is a rather more hastyremark than I should have expected you to make. Don't you see that ifwe were to start the engines, and cut off our American communications,as would be necessary, we should not only paralyse the expedition, weshould also paralyse the whole of Canada and the United States, cutoff our communications with England, and make it impossible for ourfriends to communicate with us, or for them to come here—as they aredoing this month."

"Guess I spoke a bit too soon," said Austin. "That's so; and, ofcourse, we couldn't do it."

The doctor continued his walk up and down the room for a few momentslonger, then stopped and said suddenly, "No; but I'll tell you what wecan and will do if there's going to be any of this sort of foul playabout. The president and all our friends will be much safer here thanin any other part of the world, for if we have to starve the world outthey'll be all right here. Wire to your uncle; say that we havereceived his message and are acting upon it, and tell him to bring thewhole party here with the utmost speed; call it a pleasure-trip or atour of inspection, or what they please, but they must come at once,and, above all, they must get here before these so-called Polarexpeditions."

"That's the talk, doctor," exclaimed Austin; "you've got right down onto it this time. I'll fix that up in the code and send it right away."

There is, of course, neither day nor night during June in BoothiaLand, only a little deepening of the twilight towards midnight, butthe message was despatchedvia Winnipeg a little after nine inthe evening, according to conventional time, and so Clifford Vandelwas able to decipher it in his sitting-room at Orrel Court beforebreakfast the next morning. The carriages were already waiting to takethe party down to theNadine's berth at Southampton Water assoon as possible after an early breakfast, for there was to be a raceround the Isle of Wight for cruising yachts that day, and some of thefinest yachts in the two hemispheres were going to compete, theNadine and several other steam-yachts, including theVlodova, belonging to the Grand Duke Ruric, were to follow therace, and the day was to wind up with supper at Clifford Vandel'sbungalow at Cowes.

Therefore the moment he had finished translating the cipher, withoutwaiting even for breakfast, he sent his man to ask Lord Orrel and hisson for the favour of a few minutes' private conversation in hislordship's library. This man was the brother of the Countess Sophie'sFrench maid—deaf, handy, silent, and wonderfully well up to his work.He had engaged him on the count's recommendation, after dismissing hisEnglish valet on the instant for, as he thought, trying to learn morethan he ought to know from his correspondence. It is scarcelynecessary to add that Ma'm'selle Sophie knew as much about the one asshe did about the other; and, as a matter of fact, she had procuredboth appointments. This being so, it was only natural that within avery few minutes Count Valdemar and his daughter should have heard ofthe receipt of the telegram, and Clifford Vandel's request for aninterview with Lord Orrel and his son. The immediate result was twointerviews before breakfast instead of one.

"What can it mean, papa?" said Sophie, when she had softly locked herfather's door. "Jules says that the dispatch was brought up fromSouthampton this morning. Before he gave it to Mr Vandel he, ofcourse, steamed the envelope and looked at it. It was in cipher, asone might expect; but it came from Winnipeg, and Winnipeg is the onepoint of communication between Boothia and the rest of the world. MrVandel translated it at once, and immediately went to talk to LordOrrel and the viscount about it. I wonder whether—but no, that'simpossible. We couldn't have been overheard, and no one that knowsanything of our plans could have any possible inducement to betray us.The marquise told me that she had a letter from Fargeau yesterday: Iwonder if she has said anything."

"My dear Sophie," replied her father, "as I told you the night beforelast, a woman in love is a woman lost to all purposes of diplomacy,unless her interests and those of the man she is in love with areidentical. Here they are diametrically opposed; a word from her to theviscount would ruin everything—at least, so far as the expeditionsare concerned."

"All the more reason then," said Sophie, clenching her hands, "thatwe—I mean that theVlodoya should capture theNadinewith all these people on board her. If we have them at our mercy wehave everything. I would give a good deal to know what there was inthat dispatch that Clifford Vandel had this morning."

"And so would I," replied her father; "a great deal. Do you think thatif your maid were to promise her brother, say, £500, for thetranscription which Vandel must have made of it, there would be anychance of getting it?"

"We can only try," replied Sophie. "The old gentleman is very carefulabout his papers, they tell me; still, we will try."

"Well, gentlemen," said Clifford Vandel, about the same moment in LordOrrel's library, "I think you will agree with me that the doctor wouldnot have sent a dispatch like this without pretty good reason; and ifthese people mean pushing matters to extremity, why, of course, itmight be necessary for him to, as he says here, freeze them out, inwhich case they couldn't get there. And if they couldn't we couldn't;wherefore it seems good reasoning to say that we ought to be therefirst—if we're going to get there at all."

"My dear Vandel," replied his lordship, "it is the best of reasoning;and I am quite sure that Doctor Lamson would not have dreamt ofsending such a dispatch without good reasons, and I think I amjustified in telling you that this morning I received a confidentialletter from an old colleague of mine in the Foreign Office, in whichhe says that, according to reports of our agents, both in France andGermany, an outbreak of hostilities may occur at any moment within thenext few weeks, without warning—just as it did in 1870."

"Then," said Hardress, sharply, "if that is so, there simply must besome connection between that and the dispatch of these twoexpeditions. I don't often jump to conclusions, Mr Vandel, but I thinknow that Miss Chrysie was perfectly right. They're not going to tryand get to the Pole at all. It's the Magnetic Pole they want, andthey'll be there this summer if we don't find some way to stop them;and I quite agree that we ought to get there first. It may benecessary to show Europe that they can't get on without us, even inthe matter of fighting."

"Very well, then," said Lord Orrel, "we'll call that settled; we'llmake it a summer Arctic trip. How soon can you get us across theAtlantic, Hardress?"

"I can land you in Halifax in six days. We'll coal up there; and, ifwe're not too much crowded with ice, I'll get you to Rae Isthmus insix days more. Meanwhile I will telegraph to Lamson to have one of hissteamers waiting for us on the other side of the Isthmus, and inanother week, including the land travel, which may be difficult, wewill be at the works. Or, if we find the sea fairly clear, we'll steamstraight up to Fox Channel, Kury's Strait, and take you straight toBoothia Land. At any rate, the expeditions are only just starting, onefrom Havre and the other one from Riga, and, at that rate, we shouldcertainly be there a clear month before them, even if they really aregoing."

"Then," said Clifford Vandel, slowly but gravely, "if that's so, Iguess the best thing we can do is to get there as quickly as possibleand start the circus as soon as we can. If Europe meansfighting—well, we can't have a better way of proving our power, andshowing France and Germany and the rest of them that it will pay themto deal with the Great Storage Trust, than by just making their ownwar impossible. When they find they can't even fight without ourpermission, I guess they'll pretty soon come to terms."

That same morning, as it happened, Adelaide received a letter fromVictor Fargeau, dated from Paris, telling her, among other things,that the two alleged Polar expeditions would be ready to start in afortnight's time, and that he had been appointed to, as he put it, thescientific command of the French one. There had been a considerableamount of veiled friction between the French and Russian governmentsas soon as they had both been compelled to admit to each other thetrue object of the expeditions, and it was even suspected that theRussian government was secretly preparing a much more formidablescientific expedition of four vessels—including their celebratedice-breakerIvan the Terrible, a vessel built in an Englishyard for the purpose of breaking up the Baltic ice in winter, in orderto keep the ports free and the Russian Baltic squadron alwaysserviceable.

With such a vessel to lead it the Russian expedition would be quitecertain of reaching Boothia Land whatever the condition of the icemight be, because she would be able to clear a course for her consortsthrough it. All the probabilities were, therefore, in favour of theRussian squadron getting to Boothia Land first. If they did that, andwere successful in getting possession of the works, it was not verylikely that Russia would be inclined to share the dominion of theworld with the ally she had already bled so freely, and in this caseFrance would be once more robbed of the fruits of his father'sdiscovery.

Soon after afternoon tea on the lawn of Clifford Vandel's bungalow,Adelaide said to Sophie, as they sat in their deck-chairs beside eachother:

"I am given to understand that Russia is quite determined to reach thePole, if possible, in this next expedition."

"The Pole?" laughed Sophie, with a swift glance under her half-loweredeyelids. "My dear marquise, surely you are joking with me a littleunnecessarily. Which Pole?"

"Really, my dear countess, I am speaking quite seriously," shereplied, turning her head on her cushion, and looking at her companionwith somewhat languid eyes. "I presume, of course, it must be theNorth Pole—because I hear from a quite reliable source that yourgovernment is sending out the big ice-breaker—theIvan theTerrible, you know; and that would hardly be necessary to get tothe other Pole, the one that you perhaps mean, unless, of course, theywished to make certain of getting there as quickly as possible."

Sophie would have given a great deal to know the source of thisinformation, which had only reached her father a day or so before, butit was, of course, impossible for her to ask, so she contented herselfwith saying, in slow, careless tones:

"Really, that is quite interesting. But then, of course, you know,when Russia takes anything like this in hand she generally does itthoroughly, and, of course, the ice may be late this year, as theycall it, crowded up in the narrow places I suppose; and in that case,of course, the French expedition will find it accommodating to have aship like that to break the way in advance—and out again ifnecessary. I suppose you have quite decided to take the trip acrossthe Atlantic on theNadine?"

"Oh yes; that is quite arranged. It will be my first visit toAmerica—that wonderful land."

"America—wonderful? Well, I should say!" said Miss Chrysie, comingbehind them at this instant, and putting her hands on the backs oftheir chairs, "It's a pity you can't come too, countess. I guess Icould promise you both a pretty interesting time from Niagara rightaway to——"

"Suppose we say the Magnetic Pole?" murmured Sophie, turning her headback, and looking up at her with a glance that was lazy and yet fullof challenge.

"Well, yes, that might be interesting, too," replied Miss Chrysie,looking steadily down into her eyes. "Those works that the viscountand poppa are getting fixed up there, whatever they mean them for,must be something pretty wonderful, for they're spending quite a lotof money on them. It might not be impossible that we'll be going up tosee them some day, and if you'd come across, countess, I dare say Imight be able to show you round."

"Really, that's more than kind of you, Miss Vandel; but I'm sorry tosay that my father's official duties demand his presence atPetersburg, and we absolutely must leave when the house-party at OrrelCourt breaks up; but excuse me, I see my father beckoning to me. Iwill leave you my seat, Miss Vandel."

She got up, and walked away forward to where her father was standingnear the verandah. Miss Chrysie took possession of her seat, claspedher hands behind her head, stretched out her legs till a pair ofdainty pointed toes peeped from under the hem of her dress, and said,with a sidelong glance at Adelaide, and in a slow drawl:

"Nice girl the countess, marquise, and very good-looking—very; but,somehow—well, perhaps you haven't noticed it, but I have—she seemsto have a sort of way of talking at you instead of to you, and alwaysmeaning just something a bit different to what she says."

"It is quite possible," said Adelaide, slightly coldly, for Chrysie'swords were just a little too frank to please her taste; "but, you see,she's a Russian; and the daughter of a diplomat. All Russians of goodfamily are born diplomatists, and diplomacy, you know——"

"Why yes," laughed Chrysie; "diplomacy is the whole art and science ofsaying one thing and meaning another, and getting the other fellow tobelieve that you're telling the ironclad truth when you are lying likeAnanias; and I guess the countess hasn't learnt her lessons verybadly."

"In other words, Miss Vandel," said Adelaide, with a laugh that had anote of harshness in it, "you think the Countess Valdemar is, to putit into quite brutal English, a liar."

"Why no," replied Chrysie, looking straight down at her shapely toes;"just a diplomatist, or, I should say, the daughter of one. But wedon't want to pull each other to pieces like this. What's the matterwith changing the subject? What's your idea, marquise, about these twoPolar expeditions being started off this year? Doesn't it strike youas just a bit curious that they should be going north up Davis Straitsjust when our Storage Works are getting finished? Shouldn't wonder ifthe countess gave herself away a bit when she spoke just now about theMagnetic Pole."

This was a kind of diplomacy that was entirely strange to Adelaide,and for a moment or two she hardly knew what to say; then she replied,rather languidly:

"Really, Miss Vandel, it is a matter that interests me very little. Ibelieve this is the proper time for setting out on Polar expeditions,and you know the Russians are very fond of making these journeys inthe interests of science and exploration."

"Mostly exploration of what's going to be new Russian territory,"replied Miss Chrysie, with a snap of her eyes. "Ah, here's hislordship junior. Well, viscount, I've got to thank you for yet onemore just entirely delightful day!"

Before Hardress could reply she turned another sidelong glance onAdelaide. In spite of all her self-control, Adelaide's cheeks flushedever so slightly and her eyes lighted up as Hardress pulled a chairtowards them.

And she hated her frankly and cordially for it; for she was a girl ofabsolutely honest feelings, and just as straightforward andthorough-going in her hates as in her loves.

"My dear Miss Vandel," replied Hardress, "it is quite the other wayabout; it is I who have to thank you for the pleasure of giving youpleasure."

"After that," laughed the marquise, turning her lovely eyes full onhis, "let it never be said that an Englishman cannot turn acompliment."

Chrysie noticed that Hardress flushed a little and dropped his eyesslightly under that bewildering glance, and she hated the marquisemore intensely than ever.

"It was no compliment, I can assure you," he said, looking up atChrysie, "though what the marquise just said may have been. But, bythe way, I came to tell you a rather serious piece of news, marquise;and something that may perhaps influence your aunt's plans."

"Well, from the telegram my father has just received, which willprobably be in the papers to-night, there is going to be a tremendousmilitary scandal in Germany, which may have very grave results indeed,even to the extent of an European war. The detectives of the militarystaff at Berlin have discovered a sort of Teutonic Dreyfus—a youngfellow holding the rank of lieutenant, and employed as a sort ofmilitary under-secretary in the bureau of the Minister of War. To acertain extent it's the old story. He had ruined himself with gamblingand horse-racing, and, not content with that, had got involved with avery pretty and equally unscrupulous French variety actress, who bledhim with apparently more consistency than she loved him. The agents ofthe French secret service in Germany got hold of him and he soldhimself.

"So far the story is commonplace—that sort of thing happens everyweek in all countries—but the extraordinary thing about this is thatwhen this young fellow was confronted with proofs, he not only made aclean breast of what he had done, but he told his chiefs that the manwho had been mostly instrumental in getting him into trouble, and had,in fact, introduced him to the woman who ruined him, was a brotherofficer—a staff-captain and military attaché of a foreign court. Thisman, he confessed, had obtained, partly through him and partly throughhis own knowledge and other sources, a complete sketch of the Germanplans, both for invading France and resisting a French invasion,together with all the necessary details as to men, guns, transports,etc. Stranger still, a German staff-officer answering exactly to thedescription, resigned his commission nearly a year ago, and retiredinto private life. He was not a German, but an Alsatian. The Germansecret agents in Paris took up the scent, and found that this very manhad been in close communication with the Minister of War and appearedto be holding some confidential position in the service of theMinistry. Now Germany, it is rumoured, has demanded his extradition ona charge of treason and desertion; for it seems that his resignationwas never officially accepted, although he was allowed to go inconsequence of some family trouble which brought disgrace upon hisname. France has refused it, and—well, the situation may be describedas distinctly strained."

"Well," said Miss Chrysie to herself, while he was speaking, "ifthat's not a pretty good sample of diplomacy, I've got a wrong idea ofthe word altogether." She had turned her head lazily on the cushionagain, every now and then glancing at Adelaide's face. Hardress had,of course, done the same repeatedly during his narrative, which he hadtold just as though he were telling some absolutely fresh piece ofnews to a couple of listeners who would only take an outside interestin it. Since her father's death Adelaide had given no sign that he hadtold her anything on his deathbed, or that she was aware of the truenature of the Great Storage Scheme. Now she kept her composureadmirably under the double scrutiny. Chrysie fancied that she changedcolour ever so little at the mention of the German staff-officer whohad resigned, and of the visits to the French Minister of War, butotherwise she gave no sign, she just sat and listened, every now andthen drawing the point of her parasol across the grass at her feet,and occasionally looking out over the water dotted with a multitude ofcrafts coming to an anchor after the day's racing. Certainly neitherof them found any reason so far to believe that the story had anythingmore than a general interest for her. When she spoke her voice wasjust as low and sweetly quiet as ever it was.

"Certainly that is very serious news," she said, looking straight atHardress. "We know, of course, that there has been great tensionbetween the two countries for some time, and if France refuses to givethis man up there can hardly be anything but war; and yet if it istrue that France possesses all the German plans, Germany would be at aterrible disadvantage, for it would be impossible to change them atthe last minute. At any rate, I am very much obliged to you for yourearly information, viscount. Certainly I think it would be better formy aunt to remain in England for the present; and in that case, I amafraid it will be my duty to remain with her."

"Not at all, my dear marquise," said Hardress, with an eagerness whichChrysie did not at all appreciate. "You know your aunt was a greatyachtswoman some years ago; she's a splendid sailor, and there's lotsof room on board theNadine. Let her come to Canada with us.The voyage would do her all the good in the world. We can land youwith Miss Vandel and Olive at Halifax, and you can have a delightfulrun through Canada and the States under my father's protection, whilethe president and I pay our visit to the Storage Works."

"A thousand thanks, my dear viscount," replied the marquise; "butthat, of course, will be a matter for my aunt alone to decide. For mypart, I can only say that I shall be delighted if she says yes."

Meanwhile another conversation on the same subject was going on inanother part of the lawn. A messenger-boy had about half-an-hourbefore brought the count an envelope containing a lengthy telegram;and it was when he had read this that he had beckoned to Sophie, andshe had scarcely joined him when one of the servants brought her anote which had been left by a man at the gate of the grounds. Theyleft the verandah where the count had been standing, and strolled downtowards the water.

"News? Yes," said the count; "and very serious, too. Briefly, theGerman government has discovered everything about Fargeau—that is tosay, his treason and his connection with Ducros—and has demanded hisextradition from the French government. France, having got the plans,will, of course, refuse, and then there will be war—probably in aweek or two."

At this moment the note was put into Sophie's hands. She opened it,read it, dismissed the servant, and said in a low voice:

"Papa, here is even more serious news than yours. This is from myfriend the engineer. He tells me that the viscount has suddenlyaltered his plans; that theNadine is to be filled with coal toher utmost capacity, and all preparations made for crossing theAtlantic at full speed, instead of about twelve knots."

"And she can steam twenty knots," said the count. "I'm afraid, my dearSophie, that completely upsets your nicely-arranged plan for arendezvous in mid-ocean. TheNadine will be across the Atlanticbefore theVlodoya can get there, for her best is only aboutsixteen."

"No, papa," said Sophie, "I've not failed yet. If my engineer is onlyfaithful, and that accident to the machinery happens, we shall getthem all the same. I will promise him anything and everything, and hewill be faithful. And then I have another plan."

"The marquise—she will be on board—she's a Frenchwoman, she lovesthis Hardress, and hates this American girl. Sooner or later she knowsthat it must be war to the knife between them, and better sooner thanlater, for they say that he is already half-betrothed to Miss Vandel.At the same time, Hardress is by no means indifferent to her ownfascinations. I will make her an ally—for the present, at least. Sheknows well enough that were the American conveniently disposed of shecould soon console the viscount for his loss. I will show her how shemay be got rid of, and how she, Adelaide de Condé, may marry the manwho may, as she believes, soon be master of the world. A clever womanwith a great end to gain will be of infinite service to us on boardthe yacht. At present she is half-hostile to us—for she has asuspicion that our expedition is meant to forestall the French one.Now I will make her wholly our friend by showing her how she may notonly gain the desire of her heart, but also ensure the success of theFrench expedition; for, after all, you must remember that we are boundto co-operate with them to a certain extent, for they at least havebeen clever enough to keep the specification of the works tothemselves, and till we get possession of them we can do nothingwithout Fargeau, even if we were masters of the works. Yes; I think,after all, Adelaide, since she must be either friend or enemy, will bea better friend than enemy: and friend she shall be before she sailson theNadine."

"And so, Ma'm'selle la Comtesse, it comes to this: you would have mereward hospitality with treachery? You would have me betray my host,my father's friend, and his son, into the hands of Russia?—for thatis what it would come to. No; I thank you for your kindness andcondescension in taking me into your confidence, but I cannot consentto become your accomplice."

Adelaide de Condé had just been listening, in her own sitting-room atOrrel Court, to Sophie's cunningly-worded suggestion that she shouldgo on board theNadine as her friend and ally, and assist inthe capture of the vessel by certain means which she pointed out, oneof which was a liberal use of drugs on the passengers and crew whenthe critical moment was drawing near. A few months before she wouldhave entered with repugnance, but without hesitation, into any schemewhich bade fair to recover what she considered to be an inheritancewhich the fates had robbed her off; but since then she had learnt tolove Shafto Hardress as she had never believed she could love any man;and love had wrought its usual miracle. She hated Chrysie Vandel withthe whole-hearted hatred of her impetuous and masterful Bourbonspirit; she looked upon her as one of her ancestors would have lookedupon an usurper or an invader—something to be abolished orsuppressed, at any price and by any means. Her father, too, shethoroughly hated—not only through personal antipathy, but as one ofthose who possessed something that should have been hers. To LordOrrel and Lady Olive she was practically indifferent; and, so far asthey were concerned, she would have entered even willingly into anyscheme which promised to take from them what they had taken from her.For the Franco-Russian alliance she cared little, yet she wouldinfinitely prefer to see France sharing the control of the world withRussia than that it should be in the hands of an Anglo-Americanbusiness syndicate. Moreover, was there not that promise made to herfather long ago by an exalted personage, that, since Russia wouldprefer a monarchy to a republic as a friend and ally, she would notlook unfavourably on the restoration of the House of Bourbon in theperson of the prince, should circumstances—such, for instance, as avictorious war fought with Russia's aid—make such an event possible.Many a time, indeed, she had even been ready to curse this unfortunatelove which had come into her life to shake her resolution and spoilher purpose. But for that how easy it would all be, especially with anally—brilliant, daring, and unscrupulous—like Sophie Valdemar; andyet, how could she help to betray the man she loved, even to destroyher rival and get him for herself? So, after a long pause of thought,she repeated again, aloud:

"My dear Adelaide," replied Sophie, familiarly, and almostaffectionately, "I hope you will forgive me if I suggest that theattitude you have taken up, dignified and virtuous as I admit it looksat first sight, is really a trifle absurd."

"Really, countess," replied Adelaide, frigidly, "if you are going toforget your manners, I think the conversation may as well end. Youhave sought to tempt me to an act of treachery, and because I refuse,you begin to forget your manners. You seem to have forgotten, also,that you have put it into my power to warn the viscount and hisfriends of the danger you have prepared for them."

This was, of course, a danger which Sophie had foreseen. It was agrave one; but she was accustomed to run risks, and she was ready forthis one.

"My dear Adelaide," she replied, still with the most perfect goodhumour, "please don't get angry with me. We have always been very goodfriends, and I think this is the first time you have called mecountess for years. Don't take the trouble to be formal any more, butjust be sensible and listen. I am not tempting you at all. I am simplytrying to help you against our common enemy, and I am asking you tohelp France and Russia in the great and good work of wresting thecommand of the world from these upstart Anglo-Saxons, and reducingthem once for all to their proper place. You are not a friend to theRepublic; neither am I, nor any of us, for the matter of that. But youare a Frenchwoman, who ought to be Queen of France, and, if all goeswell with us, may be."

"What," exclaimed Adelaide, taken off her guard for a moment, "do youmean that, Sophie? Do you believe that Russia——"

"Would not rather have as an ally a monarchy—the old monarchy ofFrance, ruled over by your most gracious majesty, than a republic,managed by a plebeian pack of stockjobbers and shopkeepers? Do youknow why your lamented father the prince was such a welcome guest atthe court of Petersburg?"

"Yes," replied Sophie, taking the venture; "I do know, and I canassure you that your majesty, when the day comes, will find nostronger partisan than I shall be. My father, too, is one of your mostdevoted adherents, though, of course, he can say nothing about it now,and, as you know, there are other personages far more exalted."

"Help us, and you shall find that it was a promise," half guessingwhat the promise was. Then, pushing her advantage, she continued:"And, after all, you know, my dear Adelaide, is it not a littleinconsistent for you to talk of treason or betrayal. Do you reallythink that you would now be a guest in Lord Orrel's house any morethan I should if he knew of your connection with a certain ex-captainof Uhlans, or of that visit you paid with him to General Ducros?Really, you will forgive me if I say that your suggestion as towarning the viscount about my little scheme is a trifle illogical,even if you wished to betray us, which I don't suppose you wouldseriously dream of. How could you do it without betraying yourself?You would have to accuse me and papa, and, through us, Russia, of anact of contemplated piracy. We should be compelled, in self-defence,to prove that you know just as much of the true nature of the StorageWorks as we do, and that you and your ex-captain are the real authorsof the French expedition—in short, that you are every whit as bitteran enemy of the Trust, and all concerned in it, as we are. I fullyadmit that you will spoil our scheme for the time being; but, insteadof being a guest of theNadine, the guest of the man you love,with the power in your hand of abolishing the woman who will certainlymarry him, if you don't, you would suffer the indignity of beingordered out of his house as a spy and a traitress."

The logic was as exact as it was pitiless, and Adelaide de Condé sawthat Sophie Valdemar was, for the time being at least, mistress of thesituation. She had come to Orrel Court as a guest, with the fullintention of playing a double part. She had played it until one dayshe had chanced to overhear a few half-tender, half-chaffing wordspass between Chrysie Vandel and Hardress. Then she had awakened to thefull certainty of what, in her inmost soul, she had longsuspected—that she loved this man with all the strength of a strongand imperious nature; and since then she had been living in constantdread that he should by some means come to know her as she was.

Now the crisis had come. Sophie Valdemar had woven toils round herfrom which there was no escape; she must play the double part she hadchosen to the end. It was the only possible chance of gratifying atonce her love and her hate, and of perhaps attaining the object of herambitions after all. She moved slowly once or twice across the room,with her hands clasped behind her back. Sophie waited and watched herwith a half-smile on her lips and a gleam of triumph in her eyes. Sheknew that she had won, for she could read every thought that waspassing in Adelaide de Condé's soul. Then Adelaide stopped in themiddle of the room and faced her, with her head slightly thrown back,and said slowly:

"Yes, Sophie; I see, after all, that you are right. I should be nomore a traitor on board the yacht than I have been here, and oneshould help one's friends and allies rather than one's enemies. Itwill, of course, be an enormous advantage to our cause if this yachtcan be seized. No doubt, too, there will be ciphers on board, whichwill enable us to communicate with the works, and if there are, thatwill be an immense gain to us. It shall be part of my business to findthat out. Yes; I will go, and I will help you as far as I can; butthere is one compact, Sophie, that you must make with me."

"My dear Adelaide," replied Sophie, warmly, and coming forward withboth hands outstretched, "after what you have said I will make anycompact you please that does not injure the cause of Holy Russia. Sheis the only God, and her service is the only religion I have, and if Imake the compact, I swear to you by Holy Russia that I will keep it.What is it?"

"Then you must swear to me," said Adelaide, taking her hand, "that,whatever happens, whether we succeed or fail, no evil shall come tothe viscount or his father and sister, either in person or property.If we get possession of the works, and the alliance conquers Englandand America after it has disposed of Germany, they shall be consideredand treated as friends, not enemies; for you must remember that untilI reign as queen in Paris I propose to reign as mistress at OrrelCourt. As for the American woman and her father, and all the rest ofthem, the sooner you get them out of the way the better pleased Ishall be."

"My dear Adelaide," replied Sophie, "you looked adorable as you saidthose last words. Yes; of course, it shall be so; not a hair of theirheads, not a centime of their property shall be touched. They shall beyours, and, as yours, sacred against all ills. That I swear andpromise you in the name of Holy Russia."

"Then," replied Adelaide, looking straight into her eyes, nowbrilliant with the light of triumph, "I am with you to the end,whether it be good or bad, success or failure, life or death."

"And for Holy Russia and the old régime of France!" added Sophie,almost solemnly. "And now, suppose we go and join these good people onthe lawn?"

As they went out, arm-in-arm, laughing and chatting as though theyhadn't a care on their minds, no one would have dreamt that these twobeautiful women had been a moment before plotting the ruin, not onlyof those whose hospitality they were enjoying, but of their countryand people as well; but as Miss Chrysie saw them, her pretty browscame together for an instant, she turned aside, and said to her fatherin a low tone:

"That Frenchwoman and the Russian girl have been together ever sincebreakfast—hatching some mischief, I'll bet. I don't like it,poppa—any more than I like the Frenchwoman coming across on theyacht. She's coming for no good, I'm sure; but the viscount's about asblind as a wall-eyed mule where that woman's concerned. Anyhow, I'llwatch her pretty closely; she can bet all her titles and ancientlineage on that."

"That's right, Chrysie; and I reckon I sha'n't be sleeping much whileshe's around," replied her father.

Cowes week was over, and the house party at Orrel Court had broken up.Madame de Bourbon had yielded to her niece's earnest persuasions, andconsented to become a guest on theNadine. Count Valdemar andSophie had sailed on board theVlodoya,en route for theBaltic and Petersburg. The news which Hardress had told to themarquise and Chrysie on the lawn at Cowes had duly leaked out into thechannels of the Press, and had been condensed and expanded,embroidered and commented upon with the usual luxuriant facility ofthe journalistic imagination.

Meanwhile theTimes had published a lengthy and weightycommunication from M. de Blowitz, which, while proving many wrong andsome right, pointed unmistakably to a very grave state of affairs inWestern and Central Europe. The communication also hinted, indirectlybut unmistakably, at other developments which might possibly produceresults as astounding as they would be unexpected.

"De Blowitz has somehow managed to get on to the secret of those twoso-called Polar expeditions," said Hardress to his father at breakfaston the morning before theNadine was to sail.

The marquise and Madame de Bourbon were having breakfast in their ownroom that morning else he would not have said this. Only Chrysie andher father were at the table. "He's a wonderful fellow for gettinghold of news. That allusion to events proceeding in a far-distantportion of the globe is distinctly significant."

"That's so," said Clifford Vandel, "and I reckon that, under thecircumstances, the sooner we respond personally to Doctor Lamson'stelegram the better it will be for all immediately concerned. To tellyou the square truth, Lord Orrel," he went on, looking up from hisplate, "I don't quite like the turn things seem to be takinggenerally."

"Why, what do you mean, my dear Vandel?" asked his lordship; "you'venot heard anything unpleasant, have you?"

"I've heard something, and I've seen a bit more," he replied. "I don'twant to speak disrespectfully of any of your guests, but I'm bound tosay I don't altogether like the cordiality that's seemed to work upduring the last few days between our Russian friends and thedistinguished lady who is going to honour us by her company across theAtlantic."

"Oh, come now, Mr Vandel," interrupted Hardress, in a tone which MissChrysie did not exactly appreciate, "surely you're not going to accusethe marquise, the daughter of my father's old friend, of anything likeplotting and scheming with Russia."

"I'm not making any accusations, viscount; I'm just trying to put twoand two together and make four of them. We know that if DoctorFargeau's discovery had not fallen into our hands, or, I should saythat if it had not been thrown into our hands by the stupidity of theFrench government, this young lady's father would most likely havebecome king of France instead of dying, of what we will call mentalshock, down at Elsenau; and we haven't yet got on to whether she knowsanything or nothing about the scheme yet."

"Anyhow, she was in Paris at the time when this Fargeau, the son ofthe man whose remains we picked up, had his interviews with GeneralDucros, and these Russians were there at the same time. I guess thatmakes about two. Right after that France and Russia decide to send twoPolar expeditions, both by the same route—the only one on this sidethat leads to the Storage Works—and both about timed to get therewhen we are ready to spring our little scheme on the world. I reckonthat makes two more; and if you put them together you'll get aboutfour."

"I should say five, poppa," exclaimed Miss Chrysie, putting herfish-knife down somewhat sharply on her plate. "It strikes me thewhole thing's timed to fix in with this war that they're talkingabout. France and Russia want to get hold of the works when the warstarts. If they do they'll just run creation and halve the worldbetween them; and I reckon that makes five. What do you think,viscount?" she went on, raising her eyes and looking straight at himacross the table.

"I agree entirely with Mr Vandel that we ought to get across theAtlantic as quickly as we can," he replied, rather more deliberatelythan she liked. "I hope, and still believe, that your suspicions arewithout foundation, but, at the same time, of course, we can't affordto take any risks in a matter like this; and as everything is ready,and as it is always wise to do the unexpected in matters like this,theNadine shall start to-night instead of to-morrow morning.That will give us thirteen to fifteen hours' start; and if, as youseem to think, our friends are the enemy, it may help somewhat todisconcert their plans. But, under any circumstances, it won't do anyharm."

"I think, Shafto, that's a very good idea," said Lord Orrel. "In viewof what is taking place in Europe and of Doctor Lamson's telegram, Ireally don't think we ought to lose an hour in getting across theAtlantic as quickly as possible. Of course, it is impossible for me toentertain suspicions of the character of people who have been myguests without the most absolute proof, but at any rate it isimpossible that anything could happen between here and Halifax, wherewe shall land Madame de Bourbon and the marquise. There we shall getmore definite news from Lamson, and the telegram will give us goodexcuse for leaving them there; but that, of course, will depend uponthe nature of the news that we get there. If there is anything reallyserious—well, we shall have to commit them to the care of theuniversal Cook, who will, of course, provide a special courier forthem, and say good-bye as politely as possible."

At this moment the door opened and Adelaide came in. Lord Orrel had asomewhat high-pitched voice, and as she was opening the door, in theslow, silent way which society approves, she distinctly heard his lastsentence.

"Ah," he continued, "here is the marquise herself. Ma'm'selle, we findthat the yacht is ready, and that there is no objection, unless youand Madame de Bourbon have any, to starting this afternoon instead ofto-morrow morning. Both Mr Vandel and myself have somewhat urgentaffairs on the other side of the Atlantic."

"My dear Lord Orrel," replied Adelaide, with a radiant smile, "praysay nothing more; the arrangement will suit my aunt and myselfperfectly—and, after all, we are at your service. It is you who areaccommodating us. For my part, I think it is always pleasant the firstnight at sea, especially in summer. One wakes up the next morning tofind the sun shining, and the water dancing, and the strong saltbreeze ready to give one a most glorious appetite for breakfast. Whatmore would you? The packing, as you call it, is done. For us it isonly a question of putting our hats on and going on board—and, voila,c'est fait."

She said this with such a delightful air of insouciance, and with sucha radiant smile, that Miss Chrysie felt that she could have shot herthere and then. Under the circumstances, she just finished her coffeeand said:

"Well, Olive, if that's so, I reckon we'd better go and get fixed uptoo. I quite agree with the marquise that it's better to start out atnight on a voyage and wake up nice and fresh next morning, especiallyif you don't eat too liberal a dinner before you start."

"Oh yes," said Lady Olive; "I can be quite ready by this afternoon ifyou can, and if it's anything like the lovely moonlight night it waslast night, we shall have a perfectly delicious run through the Solentand past the Needles."

"And along the coast," added Hardress; "the moonlight will last us abit farther than that. We shall be well away to Portland before youwant to go to bed I expect. TheNadine's got to do her bestthis time, and we've coaled up for a run across the Atlantic at twentyknots. That will be somewhat of an experience for you, marquise, willit not?"

"Yes, viscount," she said, with one of those smiles which Miss Chrysiehated so; "it is a very wonderful speed that, and of course it will bean experience."

"Then that's settled," said Lady Olive, rising, "we shall start thisevening. Now let us go and pack."

TheNadine, spick and span, and clean as a new pin, was lyingalongside the ocean quay at Southampton, her bunkers and half her holdcrammed with the finest steaming coal that money could buy, and thesteam whistling softly in her pipes.

Her second engineer, an exceedingly clever young fellow oftwenty-five, whose good-looking face was marred by a pair oftoo-closely-set greenish-blue eyes, was leaning on the rail a littleforward of the foremast, smoking a pipe and gazing down the water witheyes that saw nothing material. Edward Williams was as good a marineengineer as ever went afloat, but unfortunately he was possessed bythe idea, too common among his class, that he possessed a creative andinventive genius as well as real cleverness in his profession.

He had invented what he considered to be improvement after improvementin marine machinery, and Lord Orrel had at first helped him generouslyto put them into practical form; but as he did not possess the genius,he believed he had, they had one after another failed to stand thetest of practice, and at length both Lord Orrel and his son had closedtheir pockets and given him to understand that he had better devotehimself to his profession and leave inventing alone. This produced theusual effect on such a mind as his. He forgot all that they had donefor him, and looked upon them as wealthy men whose selfishnessdeliberately barred his way to the fame and fortune which ought to behis.

Only a month before he had gone to Hardress with the plans of a newtype of submarine boat, which he, of course, firmly believed wouldrevolutionise naval warfare. It would only have cost a few hundredpounds to build a model and demonstrate the truth of his theory, butHardress had kindly but firmly refused to do it. This refusal hadsoured him utterly, and put him in exactly the frame of mind readiestto succumb to the temptation to commit the only crime of his life.

Sophie had heard something of this in conversations at the Court andon board the yacht, and she instantly divined that if she was to findan instrument to work out her scheme she would find it in thedisappointed inventor—and she was right.

Like every man who believes himself to be a genius, and is not, EdwardWilliams was intensely vain, and when the beautiful and brilliantcountess one day asked him to show her over the engines and explaintheir working he naturally felt intensely flattered. Then Sophie hadskilfully led the conversation to his own inventions, sympathised withhim very sweetly, and assured him that in Russia such genius as hiswould certainly not go unrecognised. "But these English," she said,"are always the last to accept new ideas or properly reward theirclever men."

After that he had been as wax in her skilful hands. She had even ledhim to believe she was not indifferent to him personally. After thisshe had infatuated him still further by giving him appointments insecluded parts of the Court grounds; and so she had gradually led upto the proposal which he had now definitely accepted.

For reasons of state, it was all-important that theNadineshould never reach America. Not the slightest harm was to come toanyone on board her: they would simply be brought back and landed inFrance, free to get home as they pleased. All that was wanted was adelay of a couple of days or so. Therefore, if the engines of theNadine broke down at a certain spot in the Atlantic, andremained helpless until theVlodoya overtook her, he was toreceive five thousand pounds in gold and a lucrative dockyardappointment in Russia, which would give him every opportunity ofworking out his inventions.

To such a man, embittered by disappointment and soured by a sense ofimaginary wrongs, such a dazzling temptation was irresistible; andthat was why Edward Williams was leaning over the rail of theNadine a couple of hours before she was to start, dreamingdreams of revenge on those who had wronged him, and of fortune andfame among his country's enemies.

The party from Orrel Court drove down to Southampton immediately afterlunch to enable the ladies to do a little final shopping before goingon board.

In the course of the afternoon Chrysie and Lady Olive went into thetelegraph office to send off a few farewell wires to friends. As theyentered, Miss Chrysie's quick eyes at once caught sight of Felice, themarquise's maid, leaning over one of the compartments. She touchedLady Olive's hand and nodded towards her, and said:

And then, in the most unprincipled fashion, she strolled along thecompartments as though she were looking for a form, stopped a momentand looked over the maid's shoulder. Then she came back and did itagain. Meanwhile the other compartments had been occupied; so she juststood about until Felice had finished, and then took her place.

As it happened, Felice had been compelled to use one of thoseadamantine post-office pencils which you have to almost dig throughthe paper before you can get a legible impression; consequently on thenext form on the pad there was a distinct tracing of several words.This Miss Chrysie tore off and appropriated. Then she wrote her ownmessage and went to the counter with it.

"My dear Chrysie, don't you think you did a rather improper thing inthere? I distinctly saw you look over Felice's shoulder. You know,here, we consider a telegram as sacred as a letter."

"Why, certainly!" replied Chrysie, flushing a little at the rebuke:"and so we do over our side: but still, all's fair in—well—in loveand war, and I guess you won't think me quite so wicked when I tellyou who that telegram's addressed to."

"Really, Chrysie, I don't wish to know, and I don't think you ought toknow," said Lady Olive, still more stiffly.

"Well," replied Chrysie, defiantly, "I am sorry I riled you, but I doknow it; and honestly, Olive, it's what's you and I and all of usought to know."

At this Lady Olive's curiosity appealed very strongly to her sense ofthe proprieties, and she said more amiably:

"Do you really mean, Chrysie, that there's something serious init—that, for instance, it has anything to do with the works?"

"I don't know yet," said Chrysie, "but I've got a pretty good copy ofit in my satchel, thanks to those awful pencils they give you to usein British telegraph offices. Anyhow, it was addressed to CountValdemar,Yacht Vlodoya, Cherbourg; and Cherbourg's not on theway to the Baltic, is it? Let's go and have an ice and some cakessomewhere, so that I can read what is written."

"That's very strange," said Lady Olive, "and the Count professed to bein such a hurry to get back to Petersburg. What on earth can he bedoing at Cherbourg?"

"I reckon poppa and the viscount would give something to know that,too," said Chrysie, as they turned into a confectioner's. They orderedices, and Chrysie took the telegram form out of her satchel andunfolded it gingerly. Her pretty brows puckered over it for a fewmoments, as she slanted it this way and that to get the light on it.Then she put her elbows on the little marble table, and said in a lowtone:

"It's in French, and it tells the Count that theNadine startsthis evening instead of to-morrow morning. The last word is'Dépêchez,' and that's French for 'Make haste,' isn't it? Now, do youthink I was right in doing a very improper thing—which, of course, itwas?"

"I'm afraid you were, Chrysie," said Lady Olive. "It's certainly verymysterious. How is the telegram signed?"

"There isn't any signature," replied Chrysie. "Our friend's a bit toocute for that."

"What on earth do you mean, Chrysie?" said Lady Olive, with a note ofalarm in her voice. "What friend?"

Chrysie looked up and said, with a snap of her eyes: "What otherfriend than M'am'selle Felice's mistress—the noble Adelaide deCondé?"

Lady Olive started. To her straightforward English sense of honour itseemed impossible that a woman so gently bred as Adelaide de Condécould accept her father's hospitality, and yet send such a message asthis to those who might before long be the enemies of his country.

"Chrysie," she said, "I could not believe that for a moment. It isutterly incredible that the marquise could be guilty of anything ofthe sort. I admit that it is very suspicious that theVlodoyashould be at Cherbourg instead of on her way to the Baltic, and thatAdelaide's maid should send such a message; but it seems to me muchmore likely that Felice is in the pay of these Russians, and that hermistress knows nothing about it."

"Well," said Chrysie, rising, "we shall see. Now I guess we'd betterbe getting down on board. I shall give this to the viscount, and hecan have a council of war on it."

"The viscount!" smiled Lady Olive, as they went out into the street."How very formal we are, Chrysie. Why don't you call him Shafto?"

When theNadine left her moorings, at about four o'clock on alovely June afternoon, she sauntered easily down to the Needles atabout twelve knots. For reasons of his own her owner had never put herto full speed in crowded waters, or, in fact, where any other craftwas near enough to see what she could do. On deck the principal actorsin the tragedy that was to come were sitting in deck-chairs orstrolling about, chatting in the most friendly fashion possible, justas though the graceful little vessel was not practically carrying thefate of the world as she slipped so smoothly and swiftly through theswirling water that ran along her white sides.

Until nightfall she continued at the same speed; but when dinner wasover, and the lights were up, Hardress lit a cigar and went on to thebridge, and said to the commander:

"Captain Burgess, I think you can let her go now. Full speed ahead,right away to Halifax. As I have told you, it is most urgent that weshould be there in between five and six days. Of course, everythingdepends on the engines, and I think it would be well to work theengine-room staff in treble shifts, just to see that nothing goeswrong. Any accident in the engine-room would mean a good deal to me.So you may tell the stokers and engineers that if everything goessmoothly, and we get to Halifax by the 15th—that's giving you fivedays and a bit from now—there will be a hundred pounds extra to bedivided among them when we've coaled up again at Halifax. Youunderstand, I want those engines looked after as though they were alady's watch."

"Certainly, my lord," replied the captain. "I hope, sir, you don'tthink that anything of that sort is necessary for the working of theNadine; but, of course, the engine-room staff will be very gladto accept your lordship's generosity."

The captain blew his whistle, and the head and shoulders of aquartermaster appeared on the ladder, looking up to the bridge.

A few moments later Edward Williams came up on to the bridge. Apartfrom the work of his profession he was an intensely nervous man, andhis imagination had instantly construed the sudden and unwontedsummons into a suspicion of his contemplated guilt, and his close-set,greenish-blue eyes shifted anxiously from the captain to Hardress in away that at once inspired Hardress with vague undefined suspicions,which somehow brought him back to one or two interviews on the subjectof Williams's patents—which had ended in a way which would haveprompted a less generous man to have dismissed him on the spot. It wasonly a suspicion. Still, in another sense, it was the intuition of akeen and highly-trained intellect, and somehow, by some process whichHardress himself could not have explained, Williams's manner as hecame on the bridge, and that sudden shifty glance, inspired him withthe thought that this was a man to be watched.

"Mr Williams," said the captain, "his lordship has just informed methat it is most important we should get to Halifax in the quickestpossible time; and, as you have most of the routine work to do, underMr M'Niven, and are, perhaps, more in touch with the men than he is, Iwish you to tell the men that from here to Halifax the engineers andstokers will work in treble shifts. It'll be a bit harder work, butnot for long. And his lordship has kindly promised a hundred pounds tobe divided among the engineer's staff at Halifax. Now, that's not badextra pay for five or six days work, and I hope you'll see that it'searned."

"Very well, sir," replied the engineer, doing his best to keep hisvoice steady, and not quite succeeding. "It is, I am sure, mostgenerous of his lordship, and I am quite certain that the men will doeverything in their power to deserve it."

"And," said Hardress, noting the break in his voice, "you understand,Mr Williams, I shall expect the officers to do the same. We can takeno risks this trip, and there must be no accidents or breakdowns. Timeis too precious; you understand me, of course. I will see Mr M'Nivenlater on. That will do, thank you."

Mr Williams touched the peak of his cap, and disappeared down theladder, feeling, in his inmost soul as though his contemplatedtreachery had already been discovered. And yet, if he had seen thematter from another point of view, he might have known that theprecautions which Hardress had taken were, under the circumstances,just what any man carrying such enormous responsibilities as he didwould have taken, for, as he had said, everything depended on theNadine's engines. It was, therefore, the most natural thing inthe world that everything possible should be done to ensure theirperfect working. In fact, if he had not had the burden of acontemplated treachery on his soul, he would have considered theorders to be not only natural, but necessary.

As he reached the deck, it happened that the marquise was strollingforward towards the bridge. Williams raised his cap, and by the lightof one of the electric deck-lamps, Hardress saw from the bridge thatshe looked hard at him for a moment, and that he replied with analmost imperceptible shake of the head. His brows came together for amoment, and he shut his teeth. His keen intellect saw what hishalf-intoxicated senses would not have seen. Under any normalcircumstances, it was impossible that his guest, Adelaide de Condé,could have even the remotest relations with his second engineer, andyet there was no mistaking what he had seen as she passed under theelectric light.

"Captain Burgess," he said, suddenly, in a low voice, "I don't quitelike the look of Mr Williams. I have nothing against him, but I knowhe has a bit of a grudge against me about those patents of his,and——"

"No," interrupted Hardress; "I say nothing, except that we're takingno risks this voyage; but I shall ask Mr M'Niven to have a very sharpwatch kept on the engines."

"May I come up on to the sacred territory?" said a sweet, pleadingvoice from half-way up the bridge stairs.

"By all means, marquise," said Hardress; "and you too, Olive, and MissChrysie, certainly; only I hope you've got your caps pinned onsecurely, because we're going to quicken up."

"Ah," said Adelaide, coming up on to the bridge with her headhalf-enveloped in a fleecy shawl, "quicken up. Does that mean what youcall full speed?"

"Something like it, I reckon," said Miss Chrysie, coming up closebehind her, followed by Lady Olive, both with white yachting capspinned more or less securely on to their abundant tresses.

"Yes," said Hardress, with a note in his voice that Adelaide had notheard before; "it is full speed. Now, hold on to your headgear andyou'll see."

As he spoke he put his hand on the handle of the engine telegraph andpulled it over from half to full speed. They heard a tinkle in theengine-room, and presently the bridge began to throb and thump undertheir feet. The sharp prow of theNadine had so far beencleaving the water with scarcely a ripple. Now it seemed to leapforward into it, and raised a long creased swirl to left and right. Asudden blast of wind struck their faces, hands instinctively went upto heads, and Lady Olive exclaimed:

"Oh no," he laughed. "We're making it blow. That's only the differencebetween about ten or eleven knots and twenty—and there's a bit of abreeze against us, about five miles an hour—so that makes ittwenty-five miles an hour—in fact, even thirty—for knots are longerthan miles."

"Now isn't that just gorgeous!" said Miss Chrysie, and she opened hermouth and filled her lungs with the strong salt breath of thesea—"and there goes my cap," she said, when she got her breath again.

The breeze had got under the peak of her yachting cap, and sent itflying aft. The pin dislocated the arrangement of her hair, and thenext moment she was standing with the loosened shining coils streamingout behind her, unravelling into a shower of golden glory. Adelaide,with the instinct of a Frenchwoman, had drawn her shawl tight roundher head. Hardress looked round at the moment, and, if his heart hadever wavered, in that moment the old allegiance was confirmed. Therewas no more comparison between the tall, deep-chested American girl,with her cheeks glowing, her eyes shining in the sheer joy of physicallife, and her long gold-brown hair streaming away behind her, and theslight, shrinking figure of the daughter of the Bourbons, coweringbehind the canvas of the bridge and gripping the shawl that coveredher head, than there might have been between a sea-nymph of the oldGrecian legends and a fine lady of to-day caught in an unexpected gustof wind.

Miss Chrysie looked natural and magnificent, breasting the gale andbreathing it in as though she loved it. Adelaide de Condé, the exoticof the drawing-room, cowered before it, and looked pinched, andshivered. Lady Olive, with one hand on the top of her cap and theother holding the wrap she had thrown round her shoulders, gasped fora moment, and said:

"Yes, Chrysie; this is glorious. Twenty knots!—that's abouttwenty-four miles an hour, isn't it, a little bit faster than aSouth-Eastern express train?"

"I hope so," laughed Hardress; "if it wasn't we should be some time ingetting to Halifax. And now, I suppose, you've got some coffee readyfor us down in the saloon?"

"Oh yes, it will be quite ready now," said Lady Olive. "Mr Vandel andpapa have started their chess already; Madame de Bourbon is stillmaking lace with those wonderful eyes and fingers of hers; and so, ifyou want to exchange the storm for the calm, come along."

A little after eleven that night, when theNadine, thrilling inevery plate and plank, was tearing through the smooth water of theAtlantic at nearly twenty-one knots an hour, a council of three wasbeing held in the smoking-room on deck. The doors and windows wereclosed, and a quarter-master was patrolling the deck on each side.Below in the saloon, Miss Chrysie, with a dainty little revolver inthe pocket of her yachting skirt, was playing poker for beans withMadame de Bourbon, Lady Olive, and the marquise. In short, as MissChrysie herself would have expressed it, things were rapidly coming toa head on board theNadine.

"It seems to me," said the president, "that, all thingsconsidered—thank you, viscount, I think I will take just one morepeg—we have just got to take every possible precaution. I don't saythat I am suspecting or accusing anybody; but, considering that we'vegot about the biggest thing on earth right here aboard this yacht, Idon't think we should calculate on taking any risks. Take thattelegram to start with. There can't be any doubt about that; and itdoesn't matter whether the marquise or Ma'm'selle Felice sent it,there it is. Get it down to plain figures. This boat does twentyknots, and she started fifteen hours before her time. A telegram goesfrom Southampton to Cherbourg, as Chrysie's duplicate showed, clearlytelling Count Valdemar, on theVlodoya at Cherbourg, where hehad no business to be, according to his programme, that we weresailing in the afternoon instead of the next morning, and it ended bytelling him to make haste. Now, what does haste mean? We steam twentyknots, and theVlodoya, we know, steams about sixteen. Shestarted from Cherbourg, and we started from Southampton. The Frenchand Russian Polar expeditions are perhaps under weigh now, and, fromwhat we know, I reckon that they have a fairly good idea of what we'regoing across the Atlantic for. Now, how's a sixteen-knot boat going tocatch a twenty-knot yacht anywhere between Southampton and Halifax?"

"And why should Count Valdemar receive that telegram at Cherbourg, asI suppose he did," said Lord Orrel, "instead of going on to theBaltic, when he said he was in such a hurry to get to Petersburg?"

"That, I think," said Hardress, "is the most suspicious fact in thewhole business. Of course, I don't like to suspect our late or ourpresent guests, but I must confess that I feel there's somethingwrong. What it is I can't exactly say; but still I do feel thateverything is not as it ought to be."

"And that," said the president, "I think I can explain in a fewwords—not my own ideas altogether, because Chrysie has given me agood many points. You know, gentlemen, there are some things that awoman's eyes can see through a lot farther than a man's can, andChrysie doesn't always keep her eyes down."

"Why should a telegram be sent to the owner of a sixteen-knot boat,informing him of a change of sailing a twenty-knot boat, when thesixteen-knotter is supposed to be going up the Baltic, and thetwenty-knotter is going across the Atlantic? It seems ridiculous,doesn't it? It would, even if they were both going across theAtlantic, as they might be. Now, those are hard facts; and there's adead contradiction between them, just as you might say there isbetween positive and negative in electricity. Now, where's the sparkthat's going to connect them?"

There was silence at the table for a few moments, while the presidentblew two or three long whiffs of blue smoke from his lips; and thenHardress, remembering his thoughts on the bridge, and what he had seenfrom it, blurted out, almost involuntarily:

"You've got it in once, viscount," said the president, flicking theash off his cigar. "Is there any other way that a sixteen-knottercould overtake a twenty-knotter? I don't want to say anything againstanyone, but, you know, accidents to engines are easily managed, and wejust can't afford to have any right here."

"I've seen to that already," said Hardress. "I don't think there's anyfear of a mishap, accidental or otherwise."

"But," said the president, lighting another cigar, "if it shouldhappen that the sixteen-knotter did overhaul the twenty-knotter,wouldn't it be just as well to get that gun mounted? They may haveguns on that Russian boat, and they probably have; but I don't thinkthey'll have anything that's a circumstance to our twelve-pounderVandelite gun."

"Well, in case of accidents," said Lord Orrel, "I think, Shafto, thatit wouldn't be a bad idea to get the gun mounted at once. If, in spiteof any precautions, there is going to be an accident in theengine-room, it might as well be mounted as soon as possible."

"I quite agree with you, sir," said Hardress. "We will have it out ofthe hold, and mount it first thing to-morrow morning."

On the morning of the second day out, when Adelaide came on deck, shewas astonished, and not a little disquieted, to see nearly the wholeof the yacht's crew, under the command of Mr M'Niven, the chiefengineer, engaged in mounting a long, light, slender gun, with a verymassive breech, on the flush deck just forward of the foremast.Happening to look up at the bridge, she also saw that a light Maximhad been mounted at either end of it.

What did it mean? Guns were not mounted on a gentleman's privateyacht, as a rule, unless she was making some dangerous expedition inperilous waters. As for doing such a thing on the most frequentedocean path in the world, it was utterly ridiculous, unless there wassome very grave reason for it—and what reason could there be, saveone? Had Sophie's scheme been betrayed? Had Felice told about thetelegram, under the temptation of such a bribe as these millionairescould offer? Had Williams wavered at the last, and confessed? Sheknew, of course, that theVlodoya carried guns, to compelsurrender, if necessary. Was that a reason why these guns were beingmounted?—and what would happen if theNadine met force withforce, and won? Everything would come out; the whole conspiracy, andher own share in it; and then, what would he think of her? She hadentered into the plot mainly for the purpose of getting rid of thisAmerican rival of hers, so that she might pursue the advantage whichshe believed she had already gained, without opposition. The discoverywould mean utter ruin for herself and all her hopes.

While these sinister thoughts were passing swiftly through her brainshe heard a light step behind her, and a gay voice, saying:

"My, that looks good, doesn't it! Seems as if the viscount thought wewere going to have a bit of a scrap before we got across. Yes, that'spoppa's own dynamite gun; the viscount calls it his pocket-pistol. Oh,good-morning, marquise; you seem to be interested in the operations!"

"Good-morning, Ma'm'selle Chrysie," replied the marquise, sweetly."How delightfully fresh you English and American girls always lookafter you've tubbed. Yes; I assure you I am very interested; indeed, Iam astonished. I was not aware that it was customary to mount guns ona nobleman's yacht in times of peace."

"Well, no," laughed Miss Chrysie; "but then, you see, marquise, thereis peace and peace. We are at peace with all the world, nearly, but,the fact is, this is a pretty important voyage, and, from what poppatells me, it hasn't got to be interrupted under any circumstances."

"But surely there can be no fear of that," replied Adelaide, with alaugh which seemed to Chrysie a trifle artificial and uneasy; "thedays of piracy are past."

"That's no reason why they shouldn't be revived on occasion," saidChrysie, turning round and looking her straight in the eyes; "in fact,it seems to me, from one or two hints that poppa let drop, thatsomeone is going to try and stop us getting across this time, andthat's why these guns are here. That's a pretty-looking weapon, isn'tit?"

"Really, Miss Vandel," replied the marquise, rather languidly, "I canassure you I know nothing about such things; and I take, if possible,even less interest in them."

"Well, marquise, I can assure you that that's a most interestingweapon. Poppa invented it. It's loaded with liquid gas instead ofgunpowder, and a shell that holds twelve pounds of an improved sort ofdynamite—Vandelite he calls it. Now, of course, you know that whenliquid gas is allowed to become gasey gas, it makes things mighty coldround it. Well, this freezes the Vandelite so that it shan't explodein the gun. Then when the projectile hits anything, that develops heatand sets it off. Simple, isn't it? And yet that's a thing thatinventors have been puzzling about for years. That gun will put twelvepounds of concentrated earthquake into a ship four miles away, andthat would knock anything but an armour-clad into splinters. So Iguess there'll be trouble for anything that tries to stop us thisjourney."

"Still, that could hardly be in these times," said the marquise, withexcellently simulated nonchalance. "But, really, your knowledge ofgunnery appears to be wonderful, Miss Vandel. I suppose you take agreat interest in weapons of warfare?"

"Yes, I do," said Chrysie; "you see, we make all the best of them overour side. For instance," she went on, pulling an exquisitely-finishedlittle Smith & Wesson five-shooter out of her pocket, "there's adainty little bit of bric-a-brac. No, don't touch it, if you're notaccustomed to shooters, because it's loaded. Doesn't look verydangerous, does it? But I can pick all the spots off a card at twentypaces with it."

"Dear me, how very wonderful! And how very interesting you youngladies of the New World are. Really, the fact of your carrying aloaded revolver in your skirt pocket seems to me quite as singular asmounting guns on a gentleman's yacht. So entirely unnecessary, Ishould have thought."

All Adelaide's powers of self-control did not suffice to keep a noteof petulance and insincerity out of her voice. Miss Chrysie's quickears caught it instantly. She slipped her arm through Adelaide's, anddrew her away out of hearing of the men who were mounting the guns,and said in a low voice, which thrilled with something very likepassion:

"I'm carrying this shooter, marquise, for the same reason that they'reputting those guns up. I don't know what it is, but there's troubleahead, and we're outside the law just now, the same as others may besoon; but the man I love is on board this ship, and if there's anyharm waiting for him, and quick and straight shooting will save him,I'm going to do my little level best."

It was impossible for Adelaide not to recognise the frank, directchallenge of her words. For the moment a passing impulse impelled herto snatch the weapon out of Chrysie's hand and shoot her; but anothermoment's thought showed her that such an act would have meant worsethan ruin to all her hopes. After what Chrysie had said, she woulddearly have loved to have done it. It was the first distinct avowal ofher love for the man for whom she herself had deliberately engaged tosacrifice the honour of her stainless name, and there was a ring ofdeadly earnestness in Chrysie's tone as she handled the deadly toy,which meant even more than her words did; and so she exclaimed, withan innocent seeming archness which astonished Chrysie quite as much asher own words had astonished the marquise:

"Ah, so, Ma'm'selle, then my suspicions were correct. Well, well,accept my best wishes for the most delightful ending possible for yourromance. Nothing could be better, or what the English call moresuitable—yes, in every way. And as for me, though I do not know whatI have done to deserve so great a confidence——"

"I don't know that I ought to let you thank me for it," said Chrysie,flushing a little; "I guess I told you more for your good than mine,and I thought it was only right that you should know just how mattersstood, in case any mistakes were made later on that couldn't berectified—and I think that's about all that need be said just here.There is the bell: and there is Lady Olive come to tell us that tea isready. Suppose we go below, and change the subject."

Adelaide followed her down the companion way, her face radiant andsmiling, and her heart hot and bitter with many thoughts which atpresent she dared not translate either into words or actions. If onlytheVlodoya succeeded in her mission—if only the plot to whichshe had lent herself succeeded—ah, then there would be a difference!If not, well, the sea was deep and clear and cool, and life would havenothing left in it for her.

A little before midnight another council of war was being held in thesmoking-room, guarded as usual by a quartermaster on either side ofthe deck, and Captain Burgess came out of his own cabin under thebridge and went to the starboard door. The quartermaster stopped andtouched his cap.

"Ay, ay, sir," said the man, knocking at the door. There was a "clickclick" of the key turning in the lock, the door opened, and Hardresslooked out.

"Sit down, captain," said Hardress, pointing to a seat. "What's thematter? You can speak quite freely. You know that there are somerather funny things going on; but you, of course, we trustabsolutely."

"I hope so, my lord," said the skipper, with a touch of dignity in histone. "I am sorry to say that just before seven bells, when we changedwatch unexpectedly, as we are doing in the engine-room, one of theextra men we've put on watch detected Mr Williams in the act ofsanding the driving rod of the low-pressure cylinder of the portengine."

"And what would have been the effect of that?" said Hardress, quitecoolly, as though he expected the news.

The words had hardly left his lips before a slight jarring shudder ranalong the port side of the ship, and they felt a distinct swerve asthough she had swung suddenly out of her course.

"The scoundrel, he has gritted the shaft as well!" exclaimed thecaptain, jumping to his feet and running to the door. "Pardon, mylord," he cried, as he opened it. Then he said to the quartermaster:

Then as the quartermaster vanished in the direction of the bridge helocked the door, and came back and said:

"My lord, I'm afraid it's worse than I thought. You know what gritmeans in the bearings of a screw shaft. It means stopping one enginefor twenty-four hours, unbolting the bearings and the thrust-blocks,and cleaning the grit out."

"And I guess that's just about what was calculated upon by our friendsthe enemy," said President Vandel. "A delay like that would just sendus waddling across the water like a duck with a lame foot; and that'show a sixteen-knotter's expected to overtake a twenty-knotter. What'shappening to Mr Williams just now captain?"

"Under arrest in his room, sir," replied the captain; "he's a goodsailor and a good officer, but I'm afraid he's guilty. I never saw aman look more miserable than he did when I sent for him to my room. Idon't know who's been working on him, or what the reason of it is atall, but there it is. He didn't confess, but he might just as wellhave done, for his face did it for him."

"Then we are to understand, Captain Burgess," said Lord Orrel, "that,at the best, we shall be delayed at least twenty-four hours. That willmake a serious difference to us, Shafto, under the circumstances."

"And it may be more than that, my lord," said the captain, "because wedon't know yet how much harm's done. Mr M'Niven will, of course,examine the cylinder and the shafting at once and report to me, and ifthe worst comes to the worst, why, we may have to go to Halifax withone engine. If we hadn't twin screws we'd be disabled altogether. Yes,you see he's stopped the port engine, and that means we've droppeddown to about eight knots."

"Yes, of course," said Hardress, "that's about what it comes to,father. Now, Captain Burgess, you will kindly keep Mr Williams in hiscabin. Let him have no communication with anyone. You can letRobertson give him his food, and mount guard over him generally. Wecan trust him, if we can trust anyone. I don't want to see him, oraccuse him of anything. Just keep him quiet, and isolated. Tell MrM'Niven we'll run along as well as we can with the starboard engine,and put all available hands on to repairing the damage to the other.I'll give the engine-room staff another hundred pounds among them ifthey get it fixed up in twenty-four hours."

"Very well, my lord," said the captain, as he got up and went towardsthe door. "We shall, of course, do everything possible; and I hopethat the damage is not so bad as it seems."

"It appears to me," said the president, as the captain closed the doorand Hardress locked it, "that our deductions from those few facts arecoming pretty correct. This job's going to keep us back twenty-fourhours at least, if not thirty-six; and so, granted that the Russianyacht started pretty soon after that telegram got to Cherbourg, shewon't be very far behind us to-morrow evening, and she'll probablyoverhaul us about by dawn the next day. Seems to me the question isnow, what we're going to do if she does?"

"I say fight," said Hardress, between his teeth. "We can smash herinto scrap-iron with that gun of yours before she can touch us, if shehas guns; and if they do really mean foul play, as it seems they do, Ifancy myself it would be better for all of us, women and all, to riskgoing down with theNadine than to fall into the hands of apack of Russian pirates, for that's about all they will be, if theytry anything of that sort on."

"How would it be, Shafto," said Lord Orrel, "if, granted we could getthe engines repaired, we were to play the lame duck, and turn thetables on them——"

"Thunder! You've just got it, Lord Orrel!" exclaimed the president,bringing his hand down on the table. "Whether the count and thatpretty daughter of his are on board or not, I reckon they'll be amightily dangerous crew to deal with, and I reckon they'll be safer ascompulsory guests on board this boat than if they were free to knockaround in their own ship. I feel pretty certain that they know a lotmore about this scheme of ours than they would like to say; and ifthat's so, as I think it is, the less they run around loose about theearth the better for us."

"I quite agree with you, president," said Hardress. "That's the verything to do, if we can do it: if it really is theVlodoyathat's on our track and she means taking or sinking us; well, we'llplay 'possum. We'll have to let her fire on us first, I'm afraid; butI daresay she'll miss, for Russians are about the worst gunners in theworld. Then we'll cripple her, take her distinguished passengers outof her, and make them our compulsory guests. After that we'll playpirate to pirate—empty her coal bunkers into ours, strip her ofeverything we want, and put the crew into the boats with plenty ofwater and provisions. They'll be certain to be picked up within acouple of days or so if they go south towards the steamer tracks. Thenwe'll smash his excellency's yacht into scrap-iron, and go straight toBoothia Land without stopping at Halifax at all."

"But, my dear Shafto," said the earl, "that would be a most flagrantact of piracy on the high seas, wouldn't it?"

"My dear dad," he replied, "you must remember that once we are inBoothia we are beyond and above the law, and if we like to indulge ina little piracy we can do so. The point really is to catch thesepeople and take them there with us; so that we can be quite certainthey're not going to do any more harm."

"That, viscount," said the president, "is right on the spot; and youridea of taking the coal out of theVlodoya isn't any too bad. Ireckon that's just what we've got to do. A little surprise party forour Russian friends right here in mid-ocean, and then straight away tothe works. We'll show them some of the wonders from inside that theywanted to see from outside; and I guess we shall also be able to showthem something pretty interesting if those two expeditions do happento discover the Magnetic Pole instead of the North Pole. I reckonit'll be just about one of the most wonderful discoveries thatFrenchmen or Russians ever did make."

Another two days had passed, during which theNadine, insteadof swirling through the water at twenty knots, had been waddlingthrough it like a lame duck at eight.

Adelaide had professed the utmost wonder and concern at the accident,and Miss Chrysie, who now knew rather more than she did, watched herwith unwinking steadiness from the time she came on deck in themorning till the time she retired with her aunt at night. Madame deBourbon herself was completely in the dark as to everything that wastaking place, and simply looked upon the breakdown of the port engineas one of the ordinary accidents of seafaring.

Adelaide had not slept for an hour continuously since she had seen theguns being mounted. That had convinced her that Hardress, whosesuspicion she dreaded more than anything else, already suspectedsomething. Williams had kept faith, and had been detected, thanks tothe extraordinary precautions that had been taken in the engine-room,precautions which, so her instinct told her, could not possibly havebeen taken unless some design against the safety of the yacht had beeneither discovered or very strongly suspected.

Still, as she told herself when she was lying awake in her berth thenight after the breakdown, to a certain extent, the plot hadsucceeded. Williams had done the work he was paid to do, and theNadine had come down from her greyhound speed to the limpingcrawl of a wounded hare. TheVlodoya would certainly overtakeher now—but, then, those guns!

She knew that theVlodoya was prepared to fight if necessary,and so was theNadine, and, now that the question of speed hadbeen disposed of, it would be a question of guns. But, after all, gunswould not be of much use without men to fire them or officers todirect the operations. Manifestly the time had come for her to playher part in the great game whose prize was to be, for her the man sheloved, and for her allies the lordship of earth.

The next day just before lunch she was strolling up and down the deckwith Hardress and Lady Olive, talking about all that they were goingto do when they got to Halifax, and she had turned the conversationupon Canadian and American hotels and the difference between Americanand European cooking, when she said:

"Ah, Monsieur le Viscomte, that reminds me. Will you allow me to giveyou and also your poor men who have been working so hard at the brokenengine a little treat?"

"With the greatest of pleasure, my dear marquise," said Hardress. "Andwhat is it to be?"

"Oh, it is nothing very much," replied Adelaide, in her lightest andgayest tone; "it is only that my aunt happened to mention last nightthat she had found in her secretaire the authentic recipe of apunch—what do you call it?—a punch of wines and liqueurs which theyused to drink at the suppers at Versailles and the Trianon in the daysof the Grand Monarque. Louis himself drank it, and so did that otherunhappy ancestor and his queen——"

"Who," laughed Lady Olive, "is at present reincarnate on board theNadine. I suppose you mean then to make up a punch some nightafter this recipe; that would be delightful, if we only have theproper ingredients on board."

"Oh, they are very simple," replied Adelaide; "it is certain that youwill have them, indeed it seems from the recipe that the excellence ofthe punch does not depend so much on the variety of the ingredients asthe proportions and the skill in making it."

"Very well," said Hardress, "as long as we've got the things on board,that is settled; and both ends of the ship shall drink to-night in thepunchà le Grand Monarque, to the health of his latest andfairest descendant. M'Niven and his men really have been working likeso many niggers at that engine, and they've done splendidly. In fact,Captain Burgess tells me we shall be ready for full speed ahead bydaybreak to-morrow."

"Ah," said Adelaide in her soul, "then it is all the more necessarythat we should have the punchà le Grand Monarque," and shewent on aloud, "Well then, Monsieur le Viscomte, that is arranged. Ifyou will tell your steward, your maître d'hôtel, as we call him onFrench ships, to provide me with the ingredients, I will make it thisafternoon, and we will take it after dinner, eh?"

"Yes," said Lady Olive, "and I think, Shafto, under the circumstances,you might invite Captain Burgess and Mr M'Niven to dine with us."

"Certainly," replied her brother, "that's a capital idea, Olive. Wewill—in fact, we'll have Mr Vernon, too: he's worked just as hard asanyone else, and it can be arranged for the second officer to takecharge of the bridge during dinner. And so, ma'm'selle," he went on,turning to the marquise, "if you will take the trouble, you may brewus two bowls, one for the cabin and a bigger one for the other end ofthe ship, and the steward shall put the whole of the ship's liquidstores at your disposal."

"Monsieur le Viscomte, I could desire nothing better," she replied,with her most dazzling smile, and more meanings than one.

The subject of the punch was mentioned during lunch, and during theafternoon Miss Chrysie got her father up into the bows, and, after aswift look round to see if anyone was within hearing distance, said:

"It may be matter or no matter," she replied, "but I'm not, and Iguess it would be healthier for you not to. I'm more than ever certainthat that Frenchwoman is in it. Yes; it's all very well looking likethat, poppa, but—you think I hate this woman because she's in lovewith the viscount. Well, I suppose I do; and there'll most likely betrouble between us sometime soon; but I haven't quite lost all mysenses because I happen to be in love with a man that another womanwants to get. Don't you see, we're going to have that punch just a fewhours before we get the engines right and that other boat is to catchus?"

"It won't be poison," answered Chrysie, very curtly, "because sheknows that he'll drink it. I guess some drug's a good deal morelikely—something that'll make everybody at both ends of the shippretty sleepy and stupid when the time for a fight comes around. Yousee, that's just the natural sequence to the plot to cripple theengine. Anyhow, that's what I think it is."

"That wouldn't do much good," she replied, more curtly than before."You see, I'd have to make a definite accusation against her, and I'venothing to go on except what he'd call mere suspicion and we calllogical deduction. I'd give her a tremendous handle against me,especially with him; and if she had any suspicion that I suspectedher—why, she might call me down pretty badly by not putting anythingin the stuff at all. No, poppa, under the circumstances, we can't doanything except not drink that punch. I'm going to have a headacheto-night and stop in my berth. You have some of your gastric troubleand drink hot milk or something of that sort: and if you get a show Ithink you might, as matters are coming to a head pretty quickly, justgive a hint to Captain Burgess and Mr M'Niven to drink as little ofthat punch as they politely can."

"Well, Chrysie," replied her father, "you've been right so far, but Ido hope you're wrong this time. It's a pretty large order, you know,drugging the whole ship's company."

"Yes; and a Frenchwoman with a lot to win is playing a game for prettybig dollars. Of course, there may be nothing in it at all, and I maybe quite wrong, but I think this punch of hers has come along at thewrong time, and we can't take any risks. There's one thing, she'llhave to drink some of it herself, and that old aunt of hers too.Still, she's pretty useless, and doesn't matter; but if anything doesreally happen, poppa, you'd better go straight and shake the viscountup. I'll have the steward make some pretty strong coffee to-night forme, and I'll keep it hot and you can give it him; and if the doctorisn't dead, too, with the stuff, get a drop of prussic acid from him.That'll bring him round."

"It strikes me, Chrysie," said her father, looking down admiringly onher flushed and animated face, "as though you're getting ready to runthis ship in case of trouble."

"It's just that, poppa," she said, with an impatient little tap of herfoot on the deck; "that is, of course, with you. I don't say it'saltogether disinterested, because it isn't; but I'd do that and a lotmore to keep to windward of that Frenchwoman, and she knows it. Youcan work your gun and I can work a Maxim, so if there's only the twoof us, we can do something with that Russian ship. And now I guesswe'd better go to the other end and show how friendly we can be withour enemies."

"Chrysie," said her father, with a very tender note in a voice whichcould be as hard as the ring of steel, "I don't want you to be a bitdifferent to what you are, but if you'd been a man you'd have been agreat one."

"I'd sooner be a good woman and get what I want than be the biggestman on earth," laughed Chrysie. "When a woman gets all she wants shedoesn't want to envy big men anything."

And with that they went aft and subsided into deck-chairs in a sort ofirregular circle, in which Lord Orrel was fast asleep, Madame deBourbon rapidly subsiding, and the marquise and Lady Olive making apretence of reading with drooping eyelids.

The punchá le Grand Monarque was a great success that eveningafter dinner. It was delicious; and every one regretted that thepresident's attack of gastritis and Miss Chrysie's headache preventedthem from sharing in its delights.

The marquise brewed a little pot of her aunt's special Russian tea forthem, which the president declined with many apologies, and which MissChrysie, after accepting a cup from the hands of Felice, emptied outof the port-hole as soon as her ladyship's lady had left the cabin.

Captain Burgess and the chief had taken the president's hint almost asthough they expected it, and the Scotsman had said significantly:

"I'm obliged to you, Mr Vandel, though I hope there's nothing in yoursuspicions; still, this is no time for us to be drinking foreign mixeddrinks when I've got to keep my eyes open, looking, as you may say,out of both sides of my head. A drop of good old Scotch whisky is asgood nourishment as a man can need. What I'm thinking about is themen. We can't forbid them to take it without either insulting hislordship or telling him all the suspicions, which, you say, can't betold him."

"No," added the captain; "but I'll see they have a pretty good shakingup at four o'clock, and the cook shall have plenty of strong coffeeready in case of accidents."

But for all that, the accident happened, almost, if not quite as wellas the originator of it could have hoped. By eleven o'clock everyonewho had drunk even a single glass of the marquise's punch, includingherself and Madame de Bourbon, were dead asleep. Even the captain andthe chief engineer, who had taken somewhat drastic measures tocounteract the possible effects, did not wake until daybreak, and eventhen, strong as they were, they were both mentally and physicallyincapable for the time being of attending to the work of the ship. Thesailors and engine-room hands, who had indulged rather more freely,were all sleeping like logs when the watch was called at four in themorning, and nothing could wake them until Mr Vernon, the chiefofficer, who never under any circumstances drank anything strongerthan coffee, and who therefore escaped the general paralysis, with thehelp of the president and the two quartermasters, who had beenforbidden to touch anything in the way of liquor during the night,brought them up on deck and turned the hose on them. This revived themajority of them sufficiently to enable them to drink a copiousallowance of strong coffee, after which they were very ill, and thenmuch better.

The captain and the chief engineer were then carried to bathrooms andtreated in somewhat the same fashion, after which they were taken backto their rooms and given a good stiff brandy-and-soda.

"Ay, man!" said the chief engineer, as he began to get back his gripon things, "whatever was in that stuff it was deadly. No more of yourforeign drinks for me. After that, good Scotch whisky is going to begood enough for me. It's a mercy she didn't poison the whole ship'screw. Captain, if there's any of the men anything like fit for dutyyou might give them a good strong tot, and let's get to work on thatshaft. There's just the bearings and the thrust-blocks to adjust andoil, and then we'll be ready for full speed ahead in three hours."

"I'm afraid that would be a bit too late, sir," said Miss Chrysie, whohad been sweeping the eastern horizon with her glasses. "Look yonder,"she went on; "there's a steamer down yonder steaming for all she'sworth, and I reckon she's a lot more likely to be theVlodoyathan an east-bound liner."

The chief took the glasses she offered him, and had a long look at thecloud of smoke that was rising from the ship.

"I'm afraid you're right, miss," he said, handing the glasses back."That's no liner; she's not half big enough; she's a yacht. Still, herstern chase is a long one, even if we are like a seal with oneflipper, and we may be ready for her even yet."

"I think we shall be able to dodge him, Miss Vandel," said thecaptain, who had just come out of his room, still looking pale andsomewhat dazed. "Put every possible hand on to the shaft, M'Niven.Steam's up, and we can start the moment you're ready."

"And," added the president, "I'll see to the guns. If that's theVlodoya they're not going to overtake us before we are ready."

While the captain and the chief engineer were mustering such men aswere in any way fit to work the ship, or to help in getting the portengine into running order, Chrysie and her father paid a visit to thestaterooms. Hardress and Lord Orrel were both sleeping as deeply asever and breathing heavily. The president tried to rouse them, withoutavail. Their pulses were beating regularly, and, apart from theirheavy breathing, there was nothing to show that they were not in ahealthy sleep; but they were absolutely insensible to any outsideinfluence; and Chrysie found Lady Olive, Adelaide, and Madame deBourbon in exactly the same condition. Ma'm'selle Felice was in greatdistress about her two mistresses, but Chrysie cut her lamentationsvery short by saying:

"You look after your ladies, Felice, and don't worry about anythingelse; your place is down here, and don't you come on deck, whateverhappens. There's a boat coming up that may be the same one youtelegraphed to at Cherbourg from Southampton. If it is, you see this?"she went on, taking her revolver out of her pocket. "Yes, that'll do;I don't want any theatricals, but you go to your cabin and stop there.If you're wanted you'll be sent for."

Ma'm'selle Felice shrank away white and trembling, and Miss Chrysiewent back on deck to get the Maxims ready for action. She met herfather under the bridge, and said:

"I reckon, poppa, they're all pretty dead down there. We'll have tosee this thing through on our own hands."

The chief and his men worked like heroes on the shaft, and a good headof steam was by some means kept up, but the other yacht crept rapidlyup across the eastern horizon, and by breakfast time it was perfectlyplain that she was theVlodoya. Moreover, both Miss Chrysie andthe captain from the bridge had been able to make out with theirglasses that she was carrying a Maxim-Nordenfelt gun on herforecastle, and two others which looked like one-pound quick-firers oneither side, a little forward of the bridge. She was flying no flags,not even the pennant of the Imperial Yacht Squadron, to which shebelonged. TheNadine was flying the Blue Ensign and the pennantof the Royal Yacht Squadron. When theVlodoya was within abouteight miles, heading directly for theNadine, the presidentsent down to ask Mr M'Niven how long it would be before the portengine could be used, and the answer came back, "A good hour yet, buteverything is going all right."

Just at this moment the captain was overtaken with another fit ofsickness and dizziness, and had to go down to his room; and Mr Vernonremained in charge of the bridge with Miss Chrysie, who was walking upand down, with a strange look of almost masculine sternness on herpretty face, and the gleam of a distinctly wicked light in her eyes.

For her the minutes of that hour passed with terrible slowness as shewatched theVlodoya coming up mile after mile, with torrents ofsmoke pouring out of her funnels. She was evidently steaming everyyard she could make. A quarter, half, and three-quarters of an hourpassed, and still she kept on, looming up larger and larger astern,and Miss Chrysie looked more and more anxiously at the long gun ondeck and the two Maxims on the bridge.

Again a message went down to the engine-room, and the answer cameback—"Another twenty minutes." Just then a line of signal flags ranup to theVlodoya's main truck. The chief officer's glassesinstantly went up to his eyes, but after a long look he shook his headand said to the president:

"That's no regular signal, Mr Vandel; it's evidently a private one,arranged beforehand, I should say."

"Then we won't answer it," said the president, "and we'll see whathe'll do next. I guess, if he's what we think him, he'll have todeclare himself right away."

They hadn't very long to wait, for about five minutes afterwards apuff of smoke rose from theVlodoya's forecastle, and aseven-pound shell came screaming and whistling across the water. Itwas the first time that Miss Chrysie had ever been shot at, but shetook it without a shiver. The chief officer begged her to go below atonce. But she only shut her teeth tighter, and said:

"No, thanks, Mr Vernon, I'm going to have a hand in this. I'm the onlyone on deck just now that knows how to run a Maxim, and I can shoot asstraight with it as I can with my own little pepper-box; so if youjust let Mr Robertson come and see to the serving of the ammunition, Ithink we'll be able to give our Russian friends just about as good aswe get."

"Say, poppa," she went on, leaning over the front of the bridge, "Ireckon that shot broke the law of nations, didn't it? How would it beif you raised his bluff? Go him a few pounds of Vandelite better?"

"There's no hurry about that, Chrysie," said the president, who hadgot his gun loaded, and was squinting every now and then along thesights. "I guess he doesn't want to hit us; we've got too muchprecious cargo on board. You see, that was a seven-pound shell, and ifit got under our water-line—well, we'd just go right down. If ourfriends are on board, they just want to scare us into surrender,that's all; so I think it would be better for us to wait furtherdevelopments, and let Mr M'Niven get his work in on that shaft. I canmake scrap-iron out of theVlodoya just as soon as ever we wantto do it; so don't worry about that."

At this moment another puff of steamy smoke rose from the deck of theRussian yacht, and this time a shell came screaming away over theNadine's masts. Miss Chrysie shut her teeth a bit harder, andwalked towards the Maxim on the port side, the one which she could atany time have brought to bear on theVlodoya. The chief officermeanwhile stood anxiously by the engine-room telegraph. It was alsohis first experience of being shot at. He was just as cool as MissChrysie or her father, but he didn't like it. He had the Englishman'snatural longing to be able to shoot back, but he recognised that,trying as it was, the president's strategy was the best. About tenmore minutes passed, during which theVlodoya drew up closerand closer, until Chrysie, after a good look through her glasses, wasable to say:

"Why, yes; there's the count and Sophie on the bridge. Poppa, whydon't you let 'em have just one little hint that we're not quiteharmless?"

The last word had scarcely left her lips before another puff of steamysmoke rose from the fore-quarter of the Russian yacht, and a second orso after, a bright flash of flame blazed out, about fifty yards on theport side of theNadine.

"That's a time shell," said Vernon. "They evidently mean business: Ifancy they could hit us if they liked. Don't you think, Mr Vandel,that we might slow round and give them one from that gun of yours?"

"No, sir," said the president, looking up from his gun: "not tillwe've the legs on her. When Mr M'Niven——"

At this moment the chief came up on to the bridge, black and grimedfrom head to foot.

"All right, Mr Vernon, you can go full steam ahead now. We've gotevery bit of grit out, and she'll work as easy as ever she did."

"Then," said the president, "I reckon that's about all that we want.Full steam ahead, if you please, Mr Vernon; you can let her go bothengines."

The chief officer pulled the telegraph handle over to full speed. Thenext moment two columns of boiling foam leapt out from under theNadine's counters as she sprang forward from eight knots tosixteen, and then to twenty. Almost at the same instant theMaxim-Nordenfeldt from theVlodoya forecastle spoke again, anda seven-pound shell, aimed low this time, came hurtling across thewater, and missed theNadine's stern by about ten yards.

"I reckon that means business," said the president. "Full speed ahead,if you please, Mr Vernon, and hard aport."

TheNadine made a splendid swerve through an arc of about ahundred and eighty degrees, and then began the naval duel, on theissue of which the future course of human history was to depend.

TheVlodoya fired three more shots in as many minutes, but theywent wide, for she was steaming nearly seventeen knots and theNadine twenty. Then as theNadine swung round so thather bow pointed towards theVlodoya, the president signed tothe two men who were working the gun, a wheel was whirled round, andthe muzzle swung slowly until he put his hand up and said:

The engine telegraph rang, a sharp shudder ran through the fabric oftheNadine, the water which had been swirling astern mounted upahead as her engines backed, and her bow came up, till the presidentraised his hand again to stop her. At the same moment another shellfrom theVlodoya whistled over the deck at an elevation of onlya few feet. In fact, it passed so near to Miss Chrysie that sheinvoluntarily put her hand up to keep her hat on her head. CliffordVandel saw it. He didn't say anything, but he set his teeth, squintedalong the sights of his gun, and touched a button in the breech. Fiveseconds later a mountain of boiling foam rose up under the stern oftheVlodoya. She stopped like a stricken animal, and laymotionless on the water, lurching slowly down by the stern.

"Well hit, poppa!" cried Miss Chrysie, from the bridge. "I guessthat's got him on a tender spot. The count won't have much screws towork with after that. Oh, they're going to shoot again. Suppose yougave them one forward this time."

While she was speaking, the quick-firer had already been reloaded, thepresident moved the long barrel a couple of degrees, and touched thebutton again. The sharp hiss of the released air was followed by anintensely brilliant flash of light on the forecastle of theVlodoya, and when the smoke had cleared away theMaxim-Nordenfeldt had vanished.

"I guess there's not much wrong with that automatic sightingarrangement of mine," said the president; "hits every time."

"Couldn't be better, poppa! I reckon they're pretty tired by this.Suppose Mr Vernon gives her full speed again, and we go along and havea talk with Ma'm'selle Sophie and the count. Shouldn't wonder if theyknew by now that we've raised their bluff, and are ready to see themfor all they've got."

The president re-charged his gun, and then, leaning his back upagainst the bridge, said:

"Well, yes, Chrysie, I think we can see them now, if Mr Vernon willgive us full speed ahead for a few minutes."

The chief officer nodded, and pulled the handle of the telegraph over.The answering tinkle came back from the engine-room, in which thechief had retired after he had given his message, and theNadine again sprang forward towards the crippled vessel thatwas now her prey. She described another magnificent curve, and as sherushed up alongside the Russian yacht at a distance of about twohundred yards, Miss Chrysie sat herself down on a camp-stool behindthe Maxim, and sent half-a-dozen shots rattling through the rigging oftheVlodoya. Then, as theNadine swung in closer, shedepressed the barrel of the gun on to the bridge, on which she couldnow recognise the count and his daughter, and sang out, in a clearsoprano:

"Hands up, please, or I'll shoot. My dear Countess Sophie, I neverexpected this of you."

Countess Sophie looked at her father, and bit a Russian curse in twobetween her tightly-clenched teeth, and said to her father who wasstanding beside her on the bridge:

"She has failed—she and the engineer too—and these accursedAmericans have done it, I suppose. They have broken our propellers anddisabled our gun. What are we to do? It is exasperating, just when wethought that everything was going so well. What has happened toAdelaide?—has she turned traitor too? Surely that would beimpossible."

"Impossible or not, my dear Sophie," replied the count, "there is nowno choice between sinking and surrender. You see, that gun, one ofthese diabolical American inventions, I have no doubt, would sink uslike a shot, and then——"

"And then we shall have to surrender, I suppose," said Sophie. "But itis still possible that I shall have a chance to shoot that Americangirl before this little international comedy is played out, and if Ido——"

"Hands up, please, everyone on board, or Iwill shoot thistime," came in clear tones across about fifty yards of water. Sophielooked round and saw Miss Chrysie looking along the sights of theMaxim, with her hand on the spring. Her face was hard set, and hereyes were burning. There was no mistaking her intention. In anothermoment a storm of bullets would be raining along the decks of theVlodoya.

"We are beaten, papa, for the present," she said, as she got up fromher chair, and put her hands over her head. The count looked at thegrinning muzzle of the Maxim and did the same.

"Yes," he said, "we are beaten this time, and it is hardly good policyto be sunk in the middle of the Atlantic. Later on, perhaps, we mayretrieve something; but it is strange how these Anglo-Saxons, stupidand all as they are to begin with, always seem to get the best of usat the end. Yes; we must surrender or sink, and, personally, I have notaste for the bottom of the Atlantic at present.

TheNadine ranged alongside, Miss Chrysie still sitting at herMaxim, with Robertson beside her ready to see to the ammunition feed,and the president, leaning over the forward rail, said, as laconicallyas though he had been putting the most ordinary business proposition:

"Good-morning, excellency; I guess you and the countess had bettercome on board as soon as possible. If you'll lower the gangway I'llsend a boat; but if there's any more shooting I shall sink you. Idon't want to do anything unpleasant, you understand; but thathigh-toned friend of yours the marquise has half-poisoned most of us,and so the rest have to take charge. Are you badly hurt?"

Count Valdemar held a hurried consultation with the captain of theVlodoya, and replied, as politely as he could:

"The fortune of war is with you, Mr Vandel, and there is no need forany further concealment. We are crippled, but the watertightcompartments have been closed and we shall float. Meanwhile, we arehelpless and entirely at your service. What do you wish us to do?"

In the meantime theNadine's boat had been lowered, and waspulling round her stern to the gangway of theVlodoya, whichhad been lowered, and the president replied:

"We'll have to ask your excellency and the countess to be our guestsfor a bit; so if you'll just come right on board and tell your peopleto get your baggage fixed up, we'll be able to save you a certainamount of unpleasantness. You will be a lot more comfortable on boardhere than you will there, because we're going to take what coal you'vegot and then sink you."

As the president said this the captain of the Russian yacht noddedtowards a man standing by one of the one-pounders on the fore deck. Hepulled the lanyard, there was a sharp bang, and a shell bored its waythrough the plates of theNadine amidships, just missing theengines. The next moment Miss Chrysie's Maxim began to thud, spittingflame and smoke and lead, sweeping the decks of theVlodoyafrom stem to stern. Only those on the bridge were spared. For a fullthree minutes the deadly hail continued, and there was not a man ondeck who was not killed or maimed. The president had jumped back tothe breech of his gun, the muzzle swung round till it bore directly onthe part of theVlodoya which contained her boilers. He held uphis hand and Chrysie stopped the Maxim. Then she swung it on to thebridge, glanced along the sights and touched the spring. There was acrack and a puff of smoke and flame, and the captain of theVlodoya, who was standing about a couple of feet away fromCount Valdemar and Sophie, reeled half round and dropped with a bulletthrough his heart.

"I guess your excellency and the countess had better come on boardright away," said the president, still looking along the sights of hisgun. "That's a pretty unhealthy place you're in, and my daughter'sonly got the patience of an ordinary woman, you know."

Sophie looked across at theNadine's bridge, and saw Chrysie'swhite face and burning eyes looking over the barrel of the Maxim. Herthumb was on the spring and there was death in her eyes. She took herfather by the arm, and said:

"Come, papa, it's no use. That she-devil will shoot us like dogs if wedon't go. Come."

And so they went down to the deck, strewn with corpses and splashedwith blood, to the gangway ladder, at the bottom of which theNadine's boat was waiting.

Miss Chrysie at once left the gun with which she had done suchterrible execution, and went with the chief officer to receive them.To the utter astonishment of both the count and Sophie, she held outher hand as cordially as though the meeting had taken place on theterrace of Orrel Court, and said with a somewhat exaggerated drawl:

"Well, countess, and your excellency, I am real glad to see you. Wesort of thought we should meet you somewhere about here, and I am surehis lordship and the viscount and Lady Olive, when they get better,will do all they can to make you comfortable. Now, here's thestewardess. As she didn't have any of the marquise's punch last night,she's ready to show you to your room. Mr Vernon, perhaps you'll bekind enough to attend to his excellency. Good-bye for the present: Iguess we shall meet at lunch."

"Really, after the unpleasantness that has happened," said the count,"your kindness, and your hospitality are quite overwhelming."

"And," added Sophie, as the two prisoners of war passed into thecharge of their respective custodians, "I must say that to me it is asmysterious as it is charming. If the conditions had been reversed, Ishould certainly have shot you."

"It wouldn't have been quite fair," replied Miss Chrysie, sweetly."You see I had a gun, and you hadn't."

She watched them disappear down the companion way to the saloon, thenshe put her hands up to her eyes, groped her way half-blindly to along wicker chair, dropped into it and incontinently fainted.

Just then the chief, washed, shaved, new-clad and thoroughly contentedwith the really splendid piece of work that had been done on one ofhis beloved engines, came on deck, looking as though nothing veryparticular had happened. He saw instantly what was the matter.

"The lassie has a wonderful nerve," he said to himself. "Ay, what aman she'd have made! But she's only a lassie after all, and we'dbetter get her below. I'll just take her down to Mrs Evans withouttroubling the president. He's got plenty to think about. Yes; Vernon'son the bridge, and he'll see to things."

Then he picked her up in his arms and carried her down to her owncabin and laid her in her berth, and gave her into the charge of thestewardess. Then he went up to the captain's room, and found him justrecovering consciousness.

"What's the matter, M'Niven?" he said. "That infernal punch last nightseems to have poisoned me. I seem to have been having nightmare afternightmare, with guns firing and——"

"That's all right, captain," replied the Scotsman; "if you'd takenless of that infernal punch and more honest whisky, as I did, youwouldn't have such an awful head on you as I suppose you have. Still,there's nothing much to trouble about. We've got the engine to rightsagain; we've met the Russian yacht, and fought her, and beaten her. MrVandel smashed her up with his gun, and Miss Vandel—a wonderful girlthat, sir, a wonderful girl—she sat at her Maxim as if it had been asewing-machine, and seemed to think no more of shots than stitches,and then, woman-like, she fainted, and I've just taken her below andhanded her over to Mrs Evans.

"And now, captain, don't you think that a wee peg would do you good?Mr Vernon's on the bridge, the president's holding up the Russianswith his gun, and the engines are working all right, but half the crewand all the company are still something like dead, with thatFrenchwoman's drugs, whatever they were."

Captain Burgess took the chief engineer's hint, and a stiff brandy andsoda. Then he dressed and went on deck, and had a brief conversationwith the president, after which he took charge of the operations ofclearing all the coal and stores out of theVlodoya before shewas sent to the bottom.

The president and Miss Chrysie had to entertain their involuntaryguests at lunch, for although the rest of theNadine's companywere recovering consciousness, they were still under the doctor's careand unable to leave their berths; but at dinner that evening LadyOlive, the earl, and Hardress were able to welcome them, and they didso with a sardonic cordiality which compelled both his excellency andSophie to admit that these Anglo-Saxons were, after all, not such baddiplomatists as Europeans were wont to think. Madame de Bourbon wasstill prostrate, and the marquise had the best of reasons forremaining in her own cabin.

It was perhaps as strange a dinner party as ever sat down afloat orashore, and it was rendered doubly strange by the fact that the lasttime they had all sat together most of them suspected, and some ofthem knew, that this very conflict, which had ended in spite of alldisadvantages so completely in favour of theNadine and hercompany, was certain to take place, yet very few references were madeto the state of active hostilities which had now been practicallyproclaimed.

Count Valdemar and Sophie were treated on board theNadineexactly as they had been at Orrel Court. Lord Orrel and Lady Olivewere just as they had been at Cowes, and in the Solent. Hardress, whohad taken a somewhat perilously large dose of the fair Adelaide'spunch, looked pale and seemed rather sleepy, until he had had two orthree glasses of champagne, and then he seemed to brighten up, andbegan discussing international politics with a frankness and anintimate knowledge which simply astounded their involuntary guests. Sofar as the party was concerned, there was now no further need foranything like concealment, and not only were the Storage Worksdiscussed, in their full nature and purpose, but even the advent ofthe French and Russian expeditions at Boothia Land was anticipatedwith what the Count afterwards described to Sophie as brutallydisgusting frankness.

Miss Chrysie, eating her strawberries at dessert as daintily as thoughher hands had never been within a mile of a Maxim gun, chatted andchaffed just as she had been wont to do at Orrel Court, and thepresident talked gunnery and machinery with the captain and MrM'Niven, who had been invited to join the party; and finally, wheneven the marquise came into dessert on Lady Olive's pressinginvitation, all that she heard about her deliberate attempt to drugthe whole ship's company was from Lord Orrel, who rose as she entered,and said in just such a tone as he might have used in the drawing-roomat Orrel Court:

"My dear marquise, I am delighted to see that you have recovered fromthe same mysterious indisposition that has affected all of us. I amreally afraid that there must have been something wrong with therecipe for the punchà le Grand Monarque, or perhaps it was notintended for general use. However, as we are all happily recovered, weneed not trouble ourselves any further about that."

Adelaide entered instantly into the spirit of the comedy that wasbeing played, and she replied:

"Ah, my lord, it is so kind of you not to blame me! Believe me, I amdesolated, and have been very nearly killed, and my poor aunt believestoo that she is going to die. It is my last performance atpunch-making, for I have torn the horrible recipe up and thrown itinto the sea."

"I am rather sorry to hear that, marquise," said Hardress, looking ather with a cold, steady stare, which at once enraged and infinitelysaddened her; for it proved that the empire, which until a few hoursago she had hoped to gain over him, and through him the world, was nowonly a dream never to be realised. Still, she kept herself undercommand marvellously, and greeted the count and Sophie just as thoughtheNadine had been lying off Cowes instead of being lashed totheVlodoya in mid-Atlantic, with the steam winches rattlingand roaring over their heads, emptying the Russian yacht's bunkersinto theNadine's as fast as her own crew and what was left ofher enemy's could do it. In short, a most unexpectedly pleasantevening was spent by everybody.

Coffee and cigars and cigarettes were taken up into the smoking-room,which was well to windward of the coal dust. Adelaide went to thepiano and played brilliantly. Then she accompanied Sophie in quaintand tenderly-touching Russian folk-songs. Then Miss Chrysie sang coonsongs and accompanied herself; and Hardress, on her suggestion, madewith a wicked humour in her dancing eyes, recite Kipling's "Rhyme ofthe Three Sealers" to her own piano accompaniment. They both did itvery well, and more than one person in the cosy little smoking-roomcould have killed them for it.

Nothing occurred to give the count and Sophie or Adelaide and theinnocent Madame de Bourbon any idea that they were really prisonersuntil they retired for the night. Then the chief steward knocked atthe count's door and asked if he wanted anything more. Mrs Evans didthe same for Sophie and the marquise, and then the doors of thestaterooms were locked. They were unlocked again at seven the nextmorning, and, after baths and early coffee, Hardress invited hisguests on to the bridge to watch the end of theVlodoya.

During the night she had been completely stripped of everything thatcould be useful to her captor. Every pound of coal was taken out ofher bunkers. The two little quick-firers had been transferred with alltheir ammunition to theNadine. Her four boats, amplyprovisioned and watered, were comfortably filled with such of herofficers and crew as Chrysie's Maxim volley had left alive. There wasa southward breeze, and in forty-eight hours at the outside they werecertain to be picked up, either by a liner or a cargo boat, and plentyof money had been given them to pay their passages either to Europe orAmerica. When they had hoisted their sails and began to bear awaytowards the steamer-track, theNadine cast off from theVlodoya, her screws began to revolve, and the president got hisgun loaded.

"I reckon we might have a little gun practice, and see how far thispea-shooter really will carry," he said, looking up at the bridge,with a smile in which neither Sophie nor her father found very muchhumour. "Will you make it five miles, captain?"

TheNadine sprang forward with a readiness which showed howutterly futile the plot to cripple her had been, and in a few minutesthe motionless hull of theVlodoya was a white speck on thewater. Then she stopped and swung round. The president adjusted hisautomatic sights, waited till she rose on the swell, and let go. Therewas a hiss and a whizz, and then, where the speck was a bright flashblazed out. Two more shells followed in quick succession, and as thelast flash blazed out, Count Valdemar took his glasses down from hiseyes and looked at Hardress, and said, with a touch of bitterness inhis tone:

"Yes," replied Hardress, dryly. "That is a twelve-pounder. We havesome hundred-pounders at the works, as well as a new weapon which mayinterest your excellency very much. It destroys without striking. Ifthe French and Russian North Polar Expedition should chance to pay usa visit, you may perhaps see them both in action."

"And now, president," he went on, "I suppose we may as well shape ourcourse for Boothia Land."

"There is nothing more to wait for that I know of, viscount," hereplied. And so theNadine's head was swung round to thenorth-west, her engines were put to their full power, and so she beganher voyage to that desolate spot of earth which was soon to become theseat of the world-empire.

Within ten days of the sinking of theVlodoya Europe waselectrified by the news, published far and wide through the Englishand Continental press, of what amounted to a pitched battle betweentwo armed private yachts in mid-Atlantic. As may well be imagined, thestrange narrative of the officers and sailors of theVlodoyalost nothing either in the telling to the interviewers or in thereproduction in the newspapers.

The boats' crews had been picked up, about thirty-six hours after thesinking of the Russian yacht, by a French liner, which took them to leHavre. The officers had taken the greatest precautions to prevent themen from speaking too freely, but it was no use. There were twojournalists, one an Englishman and the other an American, on board theboat, and they agreed to divide the sensation between themselves andtheir two countries. Both were in the service of wealthy journals, andthey bribed as freely as they did unscrupulously, with the resultthat, in addition to the general gossip of the ship, which was more orless accurate, they each possessed a fairly comprehensive narrative ofwhat had happened on the high seas between theNadine and theVlodoya, both of which were speeding over the wires to Americaand Canada within half-an-hour of the liner's arrival at le Havre.

But the Englishman did even better than this, for he practicallykidnapped the third engineer of theVlodoya, who could speakvery good French, chartered a special steamer to Southampton, pumpedhim absolutely dry on the passage, and turned up at midnight at theoffice of his paper with a column and a half of vividly-writtendescription of the most sensational event that had taken place on thehigh seas since the affair of theTrent during the Americanwar.

The presses were stopped, the matter was set up with lightning speed,and by the next morning that journalist had achieved the biggest scoopof the twentieth century. The news agencies immediately wired extractsall over the Continent, and meanwhile the news had been leaking outthrough other sources in France, for passengers will talk, and thecaptain was bound to make his formal report as to the picking up ofthe castaways; wherefore, within twenty-four hours the wholeContinental press was teeming with interviews, more or less authentic,leading articles, and notes on the subject of this astoundingoccurrence. Two Russian newspapers published a few meagre details, andwere promptly suppressed.

TheGlobe, in a leader on what it termed the "astonishingintelligence published by a morning contemporary," put the matter veryconcisely, and with its usual clearness and insight into foreignaffairs.

"We have here," said the writer, "not only one of the mostastonishing, but one of the most significant incidents of moderntimes—an incident which, almost incredible as it is, is neverthelessthe more significant when taken in conjunction with other contemporaryevents, of which our readers have been kept constantly informed. It isnot customary for either Russian or English private yachts to carryguns, and it is somewhat unusual for a Russian yacht, owned by awell-known Russian ex-Minister of State, to start, as we know theVlodoya did, from Southampton on a cruise to the Baltic, stopat Cherbourg, and then turn up in the middle of the Atlantic. But whatis the world to think when this yacht, the property of a nobleman highin favour at the Court of St Petersburg, deliberately opens fire on ayacht owned by an English nobleman, whose guest the owner of theVlodoya had been but a few days before? Perhaps even moreamazing is the fact that the English yacht replied in kind; crippledher opponent, took the owner and his daughter prisoners, set the crewadrift, sank her adversary, and vanished. Viscount Branston's yachtwas, we understand, bound for Halifax, with two distinguished Frenchladies on board. A cable just to hand informs us that nothing has beenheard of her, although she should have arrived there nearly a weekago. With some reluctance we feel compelled to ask whether there isany connection between this extraordinary occurrence and themysterious electrical works which, as is well known, are beingconstructed, at enormous expense, by a syndicate of which bothViscount Branston and his father, the Earl of Orrel, are prominentmembers. There have been many strange and wild rumours current aboutthis enterprise within the last few months, and we confess that thisalmost incredible incident appears to lend some countenance to them.

"In the same connection, it is necessary to call attention to the factthat, just as this enterprise was approaching completion, France andRussia both equipped a so-called scientific expedition for the purposeof once more attempting to force a passage to the North Pole. We donot profess to have any inside knowledge as to these mysteriousproceedings, but we confess that we should not be greatly surprised ifit would not be more correct to read 'magnetic pole' for 'north pole'.It is impossible to see anything other than an internationalsignificance. Noblemen of different nationalities do not nowadays goout on to the high seas to fight naval duels to arrange their privatedifferences; wherefore it appears that either theVlodoya was acommon pirate outside the law of nations, and yet owned by a Russianex-Minister, who was on board when the act of piracy was committed, orshe was a privateer acting under the licence of the RussianGovernment. We, in common with the whole civilised world, shall awaitwith the utmost anxiety the immediate development of this whollyunparalleled state of affairs."

The world waited for about a week, and heard nothing. The BritishForeign Office made its usual timid and tentative representation, andreceived the usual snub, to the effect that the Russian Government wasinvestigating the matter as fully as possible, but had so far onlyarrived at the fact that the English yacht fired first.

But the plots and counterplots and the steady preparations which hadbeen going on for the working out or the defeating of the great schemewere now about to bear fruit, and the world was not to be lacking insensations such as it had never experienced before.

No sooner did the German Government learn the story of the duelbetween theNadine and theVlodoya than its secretagents began to put two and two together, and make theirrepresentations accordingly. Ex-Captain Victor Fargeau was known tohave been an intimate friend of Adelaide de Condé, who was a guest onboard theNadine, and, further, to have been in closecommunication with Count Valdemar, the owner of theVlodoya. Hehad left his country, taken up his residence in Paris, and had beenproved to be in close touch with General Ducros. All this wassignificant enough, but when the cleverest of all the German agents inParis found out that ex-Captain Victor Fargeau, late of the GermanArmy, had been appointed to the scientific command of the French PolarExpedition, darkness became light, and a peremptory demand was sentfrom Berlin to Paris for his immediate extradition on the previouscharge of high treason.

To this Paris returned a polite but uncompromising refusal, and Berlinpromptly said that if the expedition sailed with ex-Captain Fargeau onboard, a German squadron would stop it and take him off. To thisFrance replied by mobilising the Northern Squadron and ordering theAdmiral in command to escort the expedition to sea and protect itagainst assault at all hazards. Paris also sent Berlin a curt Noteintimating that if the threat were carried out it would be taken as adeclaration of war.

Another Note arrived at Berlin about the same time from Petersburg,informing the German Kaiser that these French and Russian PolarExpeditions formed a joint enterprise on the part of the twocountries, and that any act hostile to the one would be consideredhostile to the other. The Note also plainly hinted that, consideringthe tremendous nature of the issues involved by a breach of theinternational peace, such a trivial matter as the extradition of aperson accused of treason could not possibly under the circumstancesafford a valid reason for what would be to all intents and purposes anact of war.

Within twenty-four hours a powerful French squadron was manœuvringoff the mouth of the Kiel Canal, just out of range of the forts; theFrench Polar Expedition, with Victor Fargeau on board, was making itsway at full speed down the English Channel; the Russian expedition,headed by theIvan the Terrible, passed the North Cape on itsway to the coast of Greenland; and four millions of Russians andFrenchmen of all arms were massed on the eastern and western frontierof Germany. At the same moment Kaiser Wilhelm called upon his brothersovereigns of Austria and Italy, and the Triple Alliance stood to armsby land and sea. In a word, the European powder-magazine was lyingwide open, and the firing of a single shot would have turned it into avolcano.

Still the weeks dragged on, till the tension became almostunendurable. According to an old North of England saying, "One wasafraid and t'other daren't start," the risks were so colossal.

Great Britain meanwhile kept her own counsel, and went on sweeping upthe remnant of the rebel Boers in South Africa. The only precautionshe had taken was to place every effective ship in the Navy incommission.

It was at this juncture that Europe experienced a new sensation. Inone memorable week English, American, French, German, Austrian, andItalian liners from American ports brought packages of the strangestproclamation that ever was issued, and in the mail-bags of the sameboats there were similar communications addressed to all theChancelleries of Europe, and these were of a character to shake theofficial mind to its very foundations, as in fact they ultimately did.

The communications, both public and private, took the form of a modestcircular dated from the offices of the International Electrical Powerand Storage Trust, Buffalo, N.Y. Those which were addressed to thecrowned heads of Europe were accompanied by autograph lettersrespectfully requesting the personal attention of the monarch to thecontents of the circular. The circular ran as follows:—

As may well be imagined, this seemingly preposterous circular wasreceived either with derision or contemptuous silence in every capitalof Europe save Paris. There its import was only too well-known, but atthe same time it was impossible for France alone among the nations toacknowledge herself the vassal of the Trust. In Petersburg somethingof the truth was known; but the Government, confident of the successof the two expeditions, just dropped the communication into theofficial waste-paper basket and went on with its naval and militarypreparations.

Everything depended upon the six vessels which were steaming towardsBoothia Land reaching their goal and accomplishing their mission. Ifthey succeeded, Europe would be plunged into the bloodiest war thathad been fought since the days of Napoleon. If they failed, the warwould be stopped by an invisible, but irresistible, force, andhumanity would be astounded by the accomplishment of such a miracle ofscience as it had never seen before.

Every day after the issue of the circular the wire which connected theStorage Works with Winnipeg was kept hot with the news of what wasgoing on in the far-away civilised world, but for some time all thatwas heard in that land of unsetting suns only amounted to this:Everywhere the Press of Europe had received the pronouncement of theTrust with incredulous derision. It had, in fact, providedprofessional humourists and caricaturists with quite a new field ofindustry.

The Governments, as had been expected, took not the slightest noticeof it, and General Ducros and the French President, who alone knewwhat a terrible meaning lay in the plain business-like language of thecircular, awaited more and more anxiously as the days went by theexecution of the dread fiat of the World Masters.

The sinking of theVlodoya and the disappearance of theNadine had convinced the Minister for War and also the RussianGovernment that the plot to capture the controllers of the StorageTrust had failed, but they could do nothing without admitting thatthey knew and believed in the power of the Trust to do as itthreatened. Moreover, they could not submit to the terms unless allthe other Powers did, and they had not even deigned to notice theexistence of the Trust. Meanwhile, the preparations for war went on,and on the day before the expiration of the time given by the generalultimatum to France, the French troops crossed the border at Verdun,Nancy, and Mulhausen, and the Northern Squadron, strongly reinforced,blockaded the mouth of the Elbe and the Kiel Canal. The Russian BalticSquadron, which had been going through its summer manœuvres,blocked the exits from the inland seas and threatened the northerncoast of Germany, while the Russian army was concentrating in enormousnumbers at several points along the Polish frontier.

When Austin Vandel took the dispatch containing this last news intothe department at the works which was commonly called the board-room,the president passed it to Lord Orrel and Hardress, who were having asmoke and afternoon chat with him, and said:

"Well, I reckon the Powers mean business, and so, as they haven't hadthe politeness to answer that communication of ours, I reckon it'sabout time we showed them that we mean it, too. They'll be fighting bythis time."

"I suppose so," replied Lord Orrel; "and of course it's no use waitingany longer under the circumstances."

"Not a bit," added Hardress; "in fact, as you know, my idea was tostart a fortnight ago. If we'd done that they might have found it abit difficult even to start."

"But after all, Shafto," said his father, "a fortnight matters nothingto us; and the object-lesson will be very much more striking if weallow hostilities to get into full swing, and then bring them to adead stop. Still, we will begin at once, and I propose, president,that when everything is ready your daughter shall do us the honour ofstarting the engines."

"I reckon that'll be about the proudest moment of Chrysie's life,"laughed the president. "And seeing that our guests have pretty goodreason to take an interest in the engines, perhaps it would only bepolite to ask them to come and assist at the ceremony."

"Oh, certainly," said Lord Orrel. "There can't be any objection tothat. Shafto, suppose you go and invite them. And it wouldn't be a badidea if we had a little dinner together afterwards, just to celebratethe occasion. You might see Miss Chrysie also and request the honourof her services."

As Hardress left the room the president said to his nephew: "Austin,you can go and wire to our people here and over in England that theexperiment begins to-night. Ask them to let us have all the news theycan send, and especially to let us know whether any electricdisturbances take place in our territories; and you might ask DoctorLamson to come over for a few minutes."

From this conversation it will be seen that the momentous voyage oftheNadine had ended without any further mishap. Davis Straitsand the Northern waters had been singularly clear of ice, and she hadbeen able to steer the whole way to Port Adelaide without difficulty.Doctor Lamson had received them in the midst of his marvellouscreation as quietly as though he had been receiving them in his ownhouse at Hampstead. They had all admired and wondered at the sombremagnificence of what was certainly the most extraordinary structure onthe face of the globe. But those who are permitted to see them havemarvelled still more at the huge engines and the maze of intricatelycomplicated apparatus which the magic of money and science had calledinto being in the midst of this desolate wilderness.

So far, the involuntary guests of the Trust had not been permitted tosee anything more than the outsides of the engine-rooms and theapartments which they occupied. They had been politely butunmistakably given to understand that, after what had happened, itwould be necessary to consider them as prisoners. They would betreated with every consideration—in fact, as guests. But at the sametime, they would be closely watched, and any attempt to communicatewith any officer or workman employed on the Works would be immediatelypunished by close confinement for all of them. For their part, theyhad accepted the strange situation with perfect philosophy, andawaited the coming of the expeditions with a great deal moreconfidence than they would have felt had they known the terriblenature of the defences with which Doctor Lamson had armed thisfortress in the wilderness.

Within an hour after the president had pronounced the fiat which wasto alter the history of the world, everything was in readiness for themaking of the Great Experiment, and, for the first time since theirarrival in Boothia, Count Valdemar, Sophie, and the marquise wereadmitted into the great engine-rooms which stood in the middle of eachside of the quadrangle. They stared in frank astonishment at thecolossal machinery, and the count said to the president as theyentered No. 1, or the Northern engine-room:

"Our aims may not be the same, but I am compelled to confess that youhave wrought a most astounding miracle in the midst of the ghastlydesert."

"It's pretty good," he replied; "but, after all, it's just the sort ofmiracle that dollars and brains can work all the time. This is not themiracle, this is only what is going to work it. The real miracle willbe what our friends in Europe see and feel. Well, now, doctor, are weready?"

"Quite," replied Lamson. "Lady Olive, you will send the signal to theother rooms? A man is stationed in each of them, and if you touch thatbutton when Miss Vandel pulls the lever you will start the other threeengines."

Miss Chrysie, looking just a trifle pale and nervous, took hold of thelever and stood ready to perform the most momentous act ever done bythe hand of woman. It had been decided to start the engines preciselyat six, and the minute hand of the engine-room clock was getting verynear the perpendicular.

"It seems a pretty awful thing to do, you know, poppa," she said,"just to pull this thing and set half the world dying."

"No; I think you are wrong there, Chrysie," said Hardress, who wasstanding beside her, and Adelaide's teeth gritted together as sheheard the name for the first time from his lips. "When you pull thatlever you will save life, not destroy it. Without us the war might goon for months or years and cost millions of lives: but ten days afteryou have pulled that lever the European war will be impossible."

"Then," said Miss Chrysie, tightening her grip on the handle, "I guessI'll pull!" At this moment the clock struck the first note of six, andat the third she drew the lever towards her.

The starting-engine gave a few short puffs and pants. Lady Olivetouched the button, and the bells tinkled in the other engine-rooms.The huge cranks of the steel giants began to revolve. The mightycylinders gasped and hissed, and the huge fly-wheels began to move, atfirst almost imperceptibly, and then faster and faster, till each wasa whirling circle of bright steel. The hiss of the steam ceased, andthe four giants settled down to their momentous work in silence, savefor a low, purring hum, which was not to cease day or night untilarmed Europe had acknowledged their all-compelling power.

"It is very wonderful, but very weird," said Adelaide to Chrysie asthey left the room, "if only it is all true. To think that you, byjust bending your arm should set those mighty monsters to work—andsuch work! to steal the soul out of the world, to paralyse armies andfleets, perhaps to make Governments impossible—perhaps to reducecivilisation to chaos!"

"I reckon those engines will cause less chaos than your friends inEurope, marquise," she replied, shortly, but not unkindly; "but,anyhow, they should have taken poppa's terms; and if they will fight,they must pay for the luxury. Anyhow, we'd better not talk about that;it's no use getting unfriendly over subjects we can't agree upon. Whatdo you say, countess?"

"I entirely agree with you," said Sophie, frankly. "You know,Adelaide, that for prisoners of war we are being treated exceedinglywell. And for the present, at least, until our hosts are able toterminate their invitation, I think we might be as nearly friends aswe can be."

"That's so," said Miss Chrysie, heartily, yet well knowing that theywere both awaiting the moment when, as they believed, the arrival ofthe expeditions would make the present owners of the works prisonersof France and Russia, and that either of them would poison her or puta bullet through her without the slightest hesitation. "Yes; that'sso. We've got to live here together for a bit, and I reckon we may aswell do it as pleasantly as possible. And now, suppose we go todinner."

All things considered, the dinner was really a most agreeablefunction. The principal topic of conversation was, of course, theeffect which the starting of the works would produce on the NorthernHemisphere in general and the fleets and armies of Europe inparticular. International politics, too, were discussed, not only withfreedom, but with a knowledge which would have astonished many aEuropean Minister; but one subject was tabooed by mutual consent, andthat was the French and Russian Polar Expeditions, which, if they werereally making for Boothia Land, ought to arrive in about a week'stime.

The three involuntary guests knew perfectly well that their hosts wereexpecting them. Their hosts knew that they knew this, and, therefore,as a matter of politeness and mutual convenience, the words "PolarExpedition" were absolutely banished from their conversation.Meanwhile, Port Adelaide had been fast emptying for the time when thecolliers and cargo boats could get back, for the time was limited.Only theNadine and theWashington, a passenger boatcapable of about sixteen knots, which had brought the staff up fromHalifax, were kept, in addition to a couple of steam launches and apowerful tug sheathed and fitted as an icebreaker.

TheNadine and theWashington constantly patrolled thecoast for twenty miles in each direction, on the lookout for theexpeditions. Around and inside the works life went on as quietly asthough nothing out of the common was happening. The unsetting sun roseand dipped on the southern horizon, and the great engines purredunceasingly, working out the dream of the man whose mangled body layin a nameless grave on an alien soil.

They had been working for six days when Europe awoke to an uneasysuspicion that, after all, there must have been something in thatpreposterous circular which the Electrical Power and Storage Trust, ofBuffalo, N.Y., had sent out some five weeks before.

On the evening of the fifth day after Miss Chrysie had pulled thelever over in No. 1 engine-room a series of unaccountable accidentshappened in the engine-rooms of the French Northern Squadron, whichwas blockading the mouth of the Elbe. Do what they would, theengineers could not keep the engines working smoothly. Littleaccidents kept on happening with such frequency that the efforts ofthe whole staff could scarcely keep the engines in working order; andabout the same time the officers on the bridges, noticed that thecompasses were beginning to behave in a most extraordinary fashion.Even when the ships were quite stationary, they wavered two or threedegrees on either side of north, and as the night wore on thevariation increased.

The next morning there happened what, up to then, was the strangestincident in warfare. TheCharles Martel, one of the mostpowerful ironclads in the French fleet, was cruising under easy steam,just out of range of the heavy guns on the canal forts, when theadmiral commanding the squadron, who was on the bridge, heard amuffled grinding noise, and felt a shudder run through the vastfabric. The next moment an officer came up from the lower deck,saluted, and gasped:

He had hardly got the last words out of his mouth before there wasanother grinding shock, and a dull rattle away down in the vitals ofthe ship.

"Ah, there is something more!" cried the officer. "They tell me thatthe engines have been mad all night."

"Go and see what it is," said the admiral; "we must put out to seawith one engine." At that moment the chief engineer came up, lookingwhite and scared, and said, in a low, shaking voice:

"Monsieur, the crank shaft of the starboard engine has splintered asthough it had been made of glass. We are disabled!"

"Nom de Dieu!" exclaimed the admiral. "What is that yousay?—disabled? and the tide setting in. Then we are lost. A fewminutes will take us within range of the guns on the Canal and atCuxhaven, and in an hour we may be ashore. There is no hope ofrepairs, I suppose?"

"Impossible, Monsieur l'Amiral. It would take weeks in the bestdockyard in France to repair the damage."

"Then," said the admiral, turning to the commander, who was standingbeside him, "we must do what we can. We will not be lost for nothing.Let everything be ready to return the fire of the forts as soon as weare within range."

By this time the German officers on the forts had noted withamazement, not unmixed with satisfaction, that some unaccountableaccident had happened to the great French battleship. She was notunder steam, she was not steering, she was simply drifting in with thetide as helplessly as a barrel. The tide was setting dead in towardsthe mouth of the Canal, and the commander of the great fort atBrunsbüttel, making certain of her surrender or destruction, orderedthree of his heaviest guns, monsters capable of throwing anine-hundred-pound shell to a distance of nearly fourteen miles, toprepare for action. They were mounted on disappearing carriages workedby hydraulic machinery.

The guns were already loaded, the mechanism was set in motion, and thegiants rose slowly till their muzzles grinned over the glacis of thefort. Then, without any warning, the framework of one of the carriagescracked and splintered in all directions, the huge gun came back witha terrific crash on to the concrete floor of the emplacement, and, tothe amazement of officers and gunners, broke into three pieces as ifit had been made of glass instead of the finest steel that Krupp couldproduce.

Officers and men stared at each other in silent amazement. Were eventhe guns and their machinery affected by this strange languor whichhad been afflicting both men and animals for the last day or two?Instinctively they drew away from the other gun; but theCharlesMartel was now well within range, and Colonel Von Altenau saw thatit was his duty not to allow her to come any closer. In fact, he wasalmost surprised to see that she had not already opened fire upon thefort, so he ordered the centre gun to be trained on her and fired.

As the lanyard was pulled, those on board the battleship saw a vividburst of flame, and the roar of an explosion came dully across thewater, but no shell followed it. The admiral immediately came to theconclusion that some accident had happened in the fort, and he orderedhis two forward 13-inch guns to send a couple of shells into it. Hewent into the conning-tower, and as soon as he received the signalthat the guns were ready and laid, he pressed the electric buttonwhich should have sent the sparks through the charges. Nothinghappened, and the guns remained silent.

Then he called down the speaking-tube connecting the conning-towerwith the barbette:

He was obeyed, and the next moment the blast of a frightful explosionshook the whole fabric of the ship. Barbette and guns disappeared in ablinding blaze of flame. The solid steel crumbled to dust, the deckscracked like starred glass in all directions, and some forty bravefellows were blown over the edge of eternity without even knowing whathad happened to them. Both guns had burst into thousands of fragments,just as the great German gun in the fort had done, killing every manwithin twenty yards of it. The guns had, in fact, behaved much as thatlittle square of steel had done when Doctor Emil Fargeau hit it with awooden mallet.

Thus the first shots of the war had resulted only in the slaying ofthose who had fired them. As the helplessCharles Marteldrifted slowly towards the other forts, they attempted to open fire onher, but after two more big guns had blown themselves to atoms, andkilled or maimed a hundred men, she was allowed to drift on until shefound a resting-place on the Elbe mud.

On the other ships of the French Squadron disaster after disaster hadbeen happening meanwhile. Engine after engine broke down, electricsignals, as well as the electrical ammunition lifts, ceased to work.The compass cards swung about as aimlessly as though there was no suchthing as a Magnetic Pole in existence, and as ship after ship becamedisabled with broken shafts, cracked cylinders, or splinteredpiston-rods, a score of the finest warships that France had ever putto sea drifted helplessly up with the tide under the eyes of an enemythat could not fire a shot at them.

The commander-in-chief of the Brunsbüttel station telegraphed to hiscolleague at Kiel to report the unaccountable disaster, but no answerwas received. The message was repeated, and a lieutenant came in a fewminutes later, clicked his heels together, and said:

"Herr Commandant, it is impossible to communicate with Kiel, theinstruments have ceased to work. I have telephoned as well, but thewires are dead."

"But it is ridiculous—unaccountable!" exclaimed the commandant. "Wemust communicate. Have an engine made ready at once, Lieutenant, andgo yourself. I will send a letter."

The lieutenant found a locomotive with steam up. He took thecommandant's letter and started. Within fifty yards the engine brokedown as completely as the machinery of theCharles Martel haddone.

Eight days out of the ten calculated by the president and DoctorLamson for the progress of the Great Experiment had expired, andEurope presented the extraordinary spectacle of a continent armed tothe teeth, possessing the mightiest weapons of destruction that humanscience and skill could invent and construct—and divided into twohostile camps which were practically unable to hurt each other.

Away in the far northern wilderness the giant engines purred onremorselessly, continually drawing away more and more of the vitalearth-spirit from Europe and Asia. In Great Britain and North Americanothing had happened, except a succession of abnormally violentthunderstorms, and certain other minor electrical disturbances whichwere only detected by instruments at the observatories; but all cableshad ceased to work, and the only sea communication possible was bymeans of wooden sailing ships, for every steamer, whether warship,liner, or tramp, broke down when she got about fifteen miles from theEnglish or American coasts. What was happening in the SouthernHemisphere no one knew till long afterwards.

Throughout Europe and Asia a most extraordinary condition of thingswas coming to pass. What had happened at Kiel happened also at all thegreat fortresses along the German frontier which were invested by theFrench and Russians. Guns of all calibres on both sides burst, killingthose who used them, but doing no damage to the enemy. Quick-firingguns jammed or burst and became useless. If a man tried to fire arifle, the breech-lock blew out and killed or maimed him, until Frenchand Germans, Russians, Austrians, and Italians alike refused to fire ashot, and even on the rare occasions when bodies of men got nearenough to each other for a cavalry or bayonet charge, lance-points,sabres, and bayonets cracked and splintered like so many icicles.

By the tenth day every officer and man in Europe had recognised thatif the war was to go on at all it would have to be fought out withfists and feet. All modern weapons of warfare had suddenly becomeuseless. Moreover, communication had become so difficult, that thefeeding of the vast armies in the field was rapidly approachingimpossibility, and the helpless, hostile battalions were beginning tostarve in sight of each other. Locomotives broke down or blew up,bridges collapsed under the weight of the trains, and now horses andmen had become afflicted with a deadly languor which made severeexertion an impossibility.

From the war lords of the nations to the raw conscripts and thecamp-followers it was the same. Neither mind nor body would do itswork. The soul of the world was leaving it—drawn out by thoseremorseless engines into the vast receivers of the Storage Works—andmen were beginning to find that without it they could neither thinknor work any more than they could fight.

There was not a cable or a telegraph line in Europe or Asia that couldbe operated, not a stationary or locomotive engine that would workwithout breaking down or blowing up. Electric lighting and tractionhad for two or three days been things of the past. Throughout twocontinents industries and commerce, like war, were at a standstill; asort of creeping paralysis had spread from the Straits of Dover to theSea of Japan.

There were no exceptions, from the rulers of the highest civilisationsdown to the sampan men of Canton and the fur-clad Samoyeds of thenorthern wilderness. Great fleets and squadrons were either driftingabout the ocean or lying helpless on rock or sand or mud-bank, likethe silenced forts full of guns and ammunition and yet unable to firea single shot either in attack or defence.

On the morning of the eleventh day the French President, who had beendrawn along the useless railway from Paris to Calais by relays ofhorses harnessed to a light truck running on wheels of papier-maché,embarked for Dover on board a fishing-lugger. Twelve hours before theGerman Emperor had sailed from Cuxhaven, which he had reached by railwith infinite difficulty, and after a dozen breakdowns, for Harwich ina fast wood-built schooner-yacht.

During the last four or five days there had been very littlecommunication between the Continent and England. All English steamers,including warships, had been forbidden to pass the three-mile limit.By a happy accident the Channel Fleet and the Home Defence Squadronhad anchored in British waters after the manœuvres just before MissChrysie pulled that fatal lever. The Mediterranean Fleet was at Malta,powerless to move an engine or fire a gun. Communication across thenarrow seas was still possible by wooden sailing craft, and it was thenews which these had brought from England that had induced the Kaiserand the President to go and see the miracle for themselves.

The moment that they set foot on English soil, which they did almostabout the same time, the growing lassitude of the last few daysvanished.

"These are truly the Fortunate Isles just now," exclaimed the Kaiser,as he drew his first breath of the cool English air. "A few momentsand I am a man again. Then that circular which we all laughed at sowas true!" he went on, to himself. "Yes, everything seems going on asusual. They seem to be caring as little about the state of Europe asthey did about the African war. Why, there's a train running as easilyas though the railways of Europe were not strewn with wrecks."

"Von Kritzener, see if you can get me a special to London—but no, wehad better keep incognito. Be good enough to go and see when there isa fast train to London, and then we will get something to eat."

The Emperor and his aide were both in ordinary yachting costume, andthe points of the famous moustache had been drooped downwards. Theaide came back to the yacht in a few minutes, saying that there was afast train to London in forty minutes; so his majesty dined brieflybut well at the Great Eastern Hotel, and presently found himselfspeeding swiftly and smoothly and with an unwonted sense of securitytowards London.

The French President experienced practically the same sensations whenhe landed at Dover and took the train to Charing Cross. Everything wasgoing on just as usual. They were even doing target practice with thebig guns from Dover Castle; and as he heard the boom of the cannon, hethought with a shudder of what had happened only a day or two beforeto the great French siege-guns before Metz and Strassburg.

All he noticed out of the common was what the Kaiser noticedtoo—lines of great steel masts along the coast and clumps of them onevery elevation inland. From what he had already learnt from GeneralDucros, he half-guessed that these were the means through which theearth received the vast volumes of electricity given off from theworks in Boothia Land, and that it was thus that the magneticequilibrium was kept undisturbed.

In London nothing seemed altered. Everybody was going about his dailybusiness as though no such continent as Europe existed; so thePresident and the Kaiser, wondering greatly, both went and put up atClaridge's, and there, to their mutual astonishment, recognised eachother. Both were strictly incognito, both recognised that the state ofaffairs in Europe had reached the limits of the possible, and bothguessed that they had come practically on the same errand. WhereforeKaiser bowed to President and President bowed to Kaiser, after whichthey shook hands, took wine together, and, like a couple of goodsportsmen, proceeded a little later on to discuss the situation in theKaiser's private sitting-room.

The result of an interesting and momentous conversation was that theKaiser sent his aide with an autograph letter to Marlborough Houserequesting the honour of an interview with King Edward for himself andthe President.

The answer was a royal brougham and pair, and a cordial invitation tothe two potentates whom fate and the great Storage Trust had broughtso strangely together to sleep at Marlborough House.

Nearly the whole of the next day was occupied in interviews betweenthe three rulers, and also with the Ministers of the great Powers whowere still in London. The American Minister and the English manager ofthe Great Storage Trust were present at most of them. At the end of alengthy discussion on thestatus quo, the Kaiser confessed, inhis usual frank, manly fashion, that not only Germany, but Europe, washelpless in face of the invisible but tremendous force which the Trusthad shown itself capable of exercising.

"We are beaten," he said, "and it would be only foolishness to hidethe fact. Our ships are helpless hulks, most of them wrecks, ourtrains will not run, our machinery will not work, our guns will notshoot. Within three days we have gone back to the Middle Ages, orbeyond them, for, even if we had armour, you could break it with yourfist, and you would not even want a mailed one," he added, with alaugh at his own expense.

"There are over ten millions of men carrying arms they cannot use, andhundreds of thousands of these men are starving because the railwaysare useless and no food can be got to them. It would be absurd were itnot so great a tragedy; but since we cannot fight, we must arrange ourdifferences some other way. What do you say, Monsieur le President?"

"I say as your Majesty does," replied Monsieur Loubet, in his blunt,common-sense fashion; "and since these gentlemen of the Trust haveshown us how helpless fleets and armies may be rendered, perhapsEurope may be induced to seek for some more reasonable method ofarranging disputes than by the shedding of blood."

"I most sincerely hope so," said King Edward; "and if these gentlemenare prepared to endorse these sentiments on behalf of their augustmasters, I think there will be little difficulty in arranging matterssatisfactorily and putting an end to what may be justly described asan intolerable and impossible condition of affairs. What do you say,gentlemen?" he went on, turning to the Ministers.

"I fear, your Majesty, it would be necessary for me to communicatewith my imperial master before I could pledge him to any courseresembling surrender."

"My dear count," said the Kaiser, turning towards him with a laugh, "Iam afraid you hardly realise the position. It would take you at thevery least three weeks, possibly six, to reach Petersburg. You forgetthat all the mechanical triumphs of civilisation are for the presentthings of the past. There are no cables, no telegraphs, no railways.Neither horses nor men are capable of any great exertion, and theirstrength is becoming less every hour. Petersburg is farther fromLondon to-day than Pekin was a month ago."

"And even from Paris," added the President when the Emperor hadfinished, "I have been four days travelling. I came to Calais in atruck drawn by horses along the railway, and from Calais in a fishingboat. Gentlemen, if I may venture to advise, I would suggest that thebest, nay, the only thing that Europe, in your persons, can do, is toplace itself in the hands of His Majesty King Edward. We have beenenemies, but he is the friend of all of us, and if any man on earthcan and will do right it is he."

"I entirely agree with Monsieur le President," said the Kaiser. "Weare helpless, and he can help us. For my own part, I place theinterests of Germany unreservedly in his hands."

After this it was impossible for the Ministers of the other Powers tohold back, and so a joint-note was drawn up there and then, prayingKing Edward to accept the office of mediator between the signatoryPowers and those uncrowned monarchs who, from their citadel in themidst of the far-off northern wilderness, had proved their title tosovereignty by demonstrating their power to render the nation helplessat their will.

The only communication that was now possible with Canada, andtherefore with Boothia Land, was by means of aërographic messagestransmitted from one station to anothervia the north ofScotland, The Faroes, Iceland, Greenland, and Newfoundland, where thecable was working as usual. It took nearly twelve hours for themessages to reach the works, and the president had scarcelycommunicated its contents to his colleagues when theNadinecame rushing full speed into Adelaide Bay with the news that the greatRussian ice-breaker, with three other vessels in her wake, wassteaming down from the northward about twenty miles away.

The news of the coming of the expeditions was allowed to spreadwithout comment through the works, and, to the intense surprise of thethree involuntary guests of the Trust, no apparent precautions weretaken to protect the works or the harbour in which theNadineand theWashington were now lying against the coming of whateveryone knew could be nothing but a hostile force. The two vesselshaving made their report, filled their bunkers and steamed out of theharbour again to the southward and westward. The great engines purredon, still draining Europe and Asia of their vital essence. Anaërograph message was sent to King Edward and the President of theUnited States. The one to King Edward informed his Majesty that thepresident and board of trust, while insisting upon the terms of thecircular they had addressed to the Powers of Europe, and giving fairwarning of what would happen if those terms were ignored, wereperfectly content to leave everything else in His Majesty's hands.

The message to the President gave him all the news that there was togive, and informed him that as soon as the King's decision wasannounced the engines would be stopped, the insulators removed, andthe electrical and magnetic currents allowed to flow back over theirnatural courses, the result of which would be that, in fromtwenty-four to thirty-six hours, normal conditions would bere-established, and the business of the world could go on as usual.All fighting, however, save under a war-tax of a dollar per head perweek of men engaged in armies and fleets would be prohibited. If thiscondition, which the London manager of the Trust had been instructedto lay before His Majesty and the foreign Ministers in London, wereviolated, the engines would be started again, with the same results asbefore.

It was about eight o'clock in the evening of the same day, to put itin conventional terms, for the long summer twilight of Boothia Landknew no morning and no evening, that the huge shape of the Russianice-breaker, followed by her three consorts, one a genuinewooden-built exploring ship and the others, to a nautical eye,unmistakably steel cruisers disguised with wooden sheathings, roundedCape Adelaide into the bay. A couple of miles behind them came thethree ships of the French expedition, an antiquated cruiser fittedwith the best modern guns, and two obsolete coast-defence ships, slowbut strong, and also armed with formidable guns.

"So your friends have come at last," said Miss Chrysie to Adelaide andSophie as they were taking their evening promenade along one of thebroad parapeted walls which formed the quadrangle of the works."Somehow I always thought it was this pole they were going to lookfor, not the other one. I reckon they allowed there was a lot more tobe found here than up north yonder."

"Of course they did," said Adelaide, with a low laugh that had awicked ring in it. "There is no need for diplomacy now. Here is theworld-throne, the seat of such power as man never wielded before.Here, within these four great walls, are contained the destinies ofall the nations on earth. Here is everything; anywhere else nothing.Pah! is it not worth fighting for?"

"My dear marquise," said Sophie, "do you not think that you areletting your feelings run away with you? I grant you they are natural,but——"

"But I guess that's what she means all the same," said Chrysie; "and Idon't like her any the less for saying it. Those scientificexpeditions of yours have just come out here to take the works bystorm, if they can, and run the show on their own. Well, that's war,and we're not going to grumble at it. We've made war on Europe, andEurope's feeling pretty sick over it; but I'll tell you honestly thatthe sickness of Europe just now isn't a circumstance to what thoseexpeditions are going to experience if they try to rush these works byforce, and they won't get them any other way. Well, now I see thatsome of the people are going down to the steam launch. Shouldn'twonder if Lord Orrel and poppa were sending your friends an invitationto supper, or breakfast, or whatever you'd call it in this everlastingdaylight. I reckon that would be quite an interesting littlesurprise-party, wouldn't it?"

"Delightful!" said Sophie, her quick wits already at work on theproblem of how to turn such a surprise-party to the advantage ofRussia. After all, when the supreme moment came, it might be possible.Victor Fargeau would be there on the French expedition, with all theinformation required to keep the works in operation, or to give thesoul which they had stolen from the world back to it. Even at the lastmoment it was still possible to triumph.

Almost at the same instant similar thoughts were passing throughAdelaide's brain. Here were both expeditions. They had arrived at thepsychological moment. She knew that the ships were armed with thefinest weapons that modern science could create. There were hundredsof trained sailors, gunners, and marines on board. The works werewithin easy range of the bay, where the Russian ships were even nowcoming to an anchor. Surely in the face of such a force—a force whichcould wreck even these tremendous works—the Masters of the Worldcould do nothing but surrender. At the same time, she would have givena good deal to have had in her pocket the dainty little revolver whichshe knew Miss Chrysie had in hers.

While they were talking, the French expedition, of which one of theships had broken down and been compelled to refit at Halifax, delayingboth expeditions over a week, in addition to the coaling, rounded CapeAdelaide and proceeded to anchor. There were now six armed vessels inthe bay, at a distance of about four miles from the works.

A glance through a pair of field-glasses from the walls made it plainthat all disguise had now been thrown aside. The joint Polarexpeditions were now frankly hostile squadrons. The great ice-breakermounted two six-inch guns forward, one aft, and six twelve-poundquick-firers on each broadside. The wooden exploring ship carried noheavy metal, but the disguised cruisers had mounted all their guns;the French vessels, too, frankly bristled with weapons, from gunscapable of throwing a 100-lb. shell down to one-pound quick-firers andMaxims. In short, if the works had been a hostile fortress no moreunmistakable demonstration could have been made against them by abeleaguering squadron.

But although there was no mistaking the errand of the ships, andthough it was plain that they had been expected, the guest-prisonerswere astounded to find that, so far as they could see, not theslightest preparations were taken for defence. There was not a gunvisible, and everyone, chiefs and workmen, went about their businesswithout the slightest show of concern. The vast quadrangle stoodamidst the rocks and sand of the wilderness, dark, silent, andinscrutable, and the huge engines purred on unceasingly, and AustinVandel sat at his instruments in the telegraph-room, awaiting the wordfrom the King of England, which alone could stop them.

"They are inscrutable, these people," said Sophie to Adelaide whenChrysie had left them on the wall to answer a message from her father."They know that the guns on those ships could level even these hugewalls with the ground in a few hours, wreck their machinery—thoughour friend Victor would scarcely allow them to do that if he couldhelp it—and bring them to the choice between surrender and death; buthere they are, going on with their work as usual, and not even takingany notice of the arrival of the fleet. Mr Vandel told papa that theyhave 100-lb. dynamite guns, but where are they?—there's not a weaponof any kind to be seen."

"That doesn't say that they are not here, my dear Sophie," repliedAdelaide. "In fact, I confess that this very silence and apparentcarelessness may hide some terrible possibilities. You know what aneasy prey we thought we should find theNadine, and you sawwhat happened to theVlodoya. Frankly, I tell you I do notthink that the success of the expeditions is at all certain. You neverknow what these diabolical people with their new inventions are goingto do next. Look how that hateful American girl has outwitted us allalong; and yet she's as friendly as possible all the time."

"Except when she was firing on theVlodoya with that horriblegun of hers," added Sophie. "Don't you wish you had that revolver ofhers?"

"What!" said Sophie, with a vicious little laugh, "kill the man forwhose sake you were willing to betray all our plans and perhaps loseus the control of the world? Why, your first condition was that noharm should come to him."

"I had hopes then, I have none now," she replied, in a tone thatsounded like a snarl. "He has found me out, and I have lost him; andwhen you have lost a man, why should he go on living? I have lovedhim; yes, perhaps I love him still in some strange way; but you arewoman enough and Russian enough, Sophie, to know that I would ratherbe a mourner at their funeral than a bridesmaid at their wedding."

"My dear Adelaide," said Sophie, slipping her arm through hers, "thatis an excellent sentiment excellently expressed. Now I see that youare with us entirely. We are really true allies now, and it rests withus and papa to make the success of the expedition a certainty. Willyou promise me that if matters come to an extremity, as they certainlywill do in a few hours, you really will shoot Ma'm'selle Chrysie andthis absurd Englishman who has preferred an American hoyden to themost beautiful woman in Europe?"

"Yes; if I could, I would do it. I would swear that to you on acrucifix," replied Adelaide de Condé, in a low tone that had a hissrunning through it.

"Then come down to my room and I will show you something," saidSophie. "I dare not do it here, for you never know what eyes arewatching you."

When they reached Sophie's apartment she put her hand into theside-pocket of a long fur-trimmed cloak that she was wearing, and tookout Miss Chrysie's revolver.

"There it is," she said, handing it to the marquise. "You have told methat you are a good shot, so you can use it better that I can. I hopeyou will use it at the right time and won't miss."

"But how?" exclaimed Adelaide, staring at her in amazement as she putout her hand for the dainty little weapon.

"How!" laughed Sophie. "My dearest Adelaide, we have to learn manythings in such a service as ours. Miss Chrysie did not know that shewas walking and talking just now with one of the most expertpickpockets in Europe. Why, I once stole an ambassador's letter-casewhile I was waltzing with him. He was terribly upset, poor man, and ofcourse I sympathised with him; but it was never found, and thecontents proved very useful."

"You are wonderful, Sophie!" exclaimed Adelaide, as she put therevolver into her pocket. "And, of course, all things are fair inlove, war, and diplomacy. Well, you have no need to fear that I shallnot use this."

"Well, papa," said Sophie, "have you any news? What are these peoplegoing to do? Have you been able to persuade them to surrender to theexpedition?"

"On the contrary, my dear Sophie," he replied, "they are moreinexplicable than ever. Would you believe it that Lord Orrel hasactually asked me to go down with him to the port and ask the Frenchand Russian leaders of the expedition to dinner, the invitation toinclude our excellent friend Victor Fargeau?"

"That is only a plot!" exclaimed the marquise; "a shallow plot to getthem into the works and make them prisoners. Of course they will notbe so idiotic as to come."

"It is difficult," said the count, "to see how they could refuse sucha hospitable offer without at once declaring hostilities. We do notknow how the works are defended, or what unknown means of destructionthese people may possess, and, to be quite candid, I do not think thatour hosts would be guilty of an act of treachery. You know theseAnglo-Saxons are always chivalrous to the verge of imbecility. Forinstance, if the tables had been turned, should we have treated themas they have treated us? I think you will agree with me that we shouldnot. No; I have no fears whatever on that score, and I shall supportLord Orrel's invitation with the most perfect confidence."

Lord Orrel and the count started from the little station just outsidethe western gate of the works in the private car used by the directorsand drawn by a neat little electric engine, which was accustomed to dothe four miles in ten minutes.

Meanwhile, Lady Olive had what might, by a stretch of imagination, becalled afternoon tea, in that land where it was never quite afternoonor morning, on the western wall looking down towards the harbour. WhenMiss Chrysie sat down and threw back her afternoon wrap Adelaide andSophie were disconcerted, if not altogether surprised, to see that shehad a light, long-barrelled, wicked-looking pistol hanging by a coupleof silver chains from her waist-band.

"My dear Chrysie," said Lady Olive, "what are you carrying thatterrible-looking weapon for? You don't expect that you will have touse it, surely," she went on, with just a touch of sarcasm in hertone, "considering what very good friends we have all managed to keepso far?"

"Well, I hope not," said Miss Chrysie, looking round the tables witheyes which had both a laugh and a menace in them. "Of course, it is tobe hoped that everything will go off smoothly, but poppa had a friendin the old times who said something that means a lot. He said, 'Youdon't want a gun often, but when you do want it you want it badly.'Isn't that so, poppa?"

"Just his words, Chrysie," said the president, "just his words; and heknew what he was talking about when he used them. I never met a manwho could hold his temper longer or shoot quicker; and when he used agun someone usually wanted a funeral pretty soon."

"But surely," said Sophie, "you don't suppose for a moment that ourexpected guests from the expedition will——"

"I don't know what they'll do, although I think I know what they'llwant to do," she replied, quickly. "But somehow I managed to lose myother little pepper-box this morning. Where it's gone to or who's gotit I don't know, so I got this instead. It's a pretty thing," she wenton, playing with it as a woman might toy with a jewel, "seven-shooterand magazine action. If you hold the trigger back after you've firedthe first shot, it shoots the other six in about three seconds."

"A very handy thing in a tight corner, I should say," said Hardress,smiling at her over the top of his tea-cup, "and in such hands Ishould think a very ugly thing to face."

Adelaide's fingers were itching to take out the revolver and shootboth of them when she saw the all-meaning glance which passed betweenthem while he spoke, but instead of that she raised her tea-cup andtouched it with her pretty lips, and as she put the cup down she said,with the sweetest of smiles, to the president:

"I think it is quite charming of you, Mr President, to ask the leadersof the expedition to dinner in such a friendly way. Surely it is notalways usual to ask the enemy within the gates?"

"We have no enemies, marquise," he replied, gravely, "except those whostand in the way of our commercial undertaking, and with them, ofcourse, business is business, and there is no sentiment in that. Ofcourse we have a pretty good idea why these two expeditions have cometo the magnetic pole instead of trying to get to the North Pole, butwe've not been lying awake at nights worrying about that, and there'sno particular reason why we shouldn't ask the scientific explorers todinner. All the same, if they happen to have come with the idea thatthey have a better right to these works than we have, and they wantany trouble—why, they can have it."

"And," added Hardress, still looking across at Chrysie, "I think theywill find it the most extraordinary kind of trouble that mortal manever ran up against."

"It's to be hoped," said Doctor Lamson, speaking for the first timesince the little tea-party had begun, for he had been thinking hard,and every now and then raising his eyes as though to seek inspirationfrom Lady Olive's calm, patrician face, as calm now, on the eve of astruggle which could scarcely end without bloodshed, and might end inruin, as it would have been in a London drawing-room—"I mostsincerely hope that it will not come to actual hostilities; it wouldbe really too awful."

"I wonder if it would be permissible for a prisoner of war to ask whatwould be too awful, doctor," said Sophie, looking at him with a smilewhich somehow made him think of a beautiful tigress he had seen in theThiergarten in Berlin.

"The means that we should be compelled to employ in such a case toreduce those two squadrons, or expeditions, or whatever they callthemselves, to something about as unsubstantial as that," replied thedoctor, blowing a puff of cigarette smoke into the air.

At this moment Austin Vandel came up on to the wall, and handed apiece of paper to his father.

"Well," continued the president, "that means they've climbed down.Doctor, I reckon we can switch off the engines now, couple up theconnections, and use the power for something else if it's wanted. Whatdo you think, viscount?"

"Certainly," replied Hardress. "If the Powers have accepted KingEdward's arbitration we can do nothing else; and, besides, if our notentirely unexpected visitors allow themselves to be tempted to commitany hostile act after that they will place themselves outside the lawof nations, and we shall be at liberty to deal with them as weplease."

"That's so," replied the president, looking lazily across the table atSophie and Adelaide. "Austin, you can go and telegraph to St John'sthat we put ourselves entirely in King Edward's hands, and that theengines have stopped. They'll have a few thunderstorms most likely,but in twenty-four hours everything will be as it was before. Youmight also mention that the French and Russian expeditions are here,and that to-night we hope to have the leaders to dinner."

The dinner-party in the board-room of the works to which the guestssat down at 8p.m. was quite the strangest that had ever beengiven in the Northern Hemisphere. It was a dinner given by the holdersof a citadel which had been proved to be the veritable throne of theworld-empire to four men who had come to the wilderness of BoothiaLand with the now practically avowed object of taking it from them byforce of arms.

For no other possible reason could these two peaceful expeditions havesailed from Riga and le Havre to go to the North Pole, or as near toit as might be, and arrive at the Magnetic Pole, bristling withweapons, and obviously prepared to attack the works, situated as theywere on the territory of a friendly nation, as though they were afortress on hostile soil. Yet Vice-Admiral Alexis Nazanoff, in commandof the Russian expedition, came with Professor Josef Karnina in justsuch friendly style as did Vice-Admiral Dumont and ex-Captain VictorFargeau, late of the German staff-corps.

They were all far too well versed in the ways of war or diplomacy notto be considerably surprised at the nature of their reception, even asthey were at the colossal dimensions of the buildings which at thebidding of the magic of millions had arisen in the midst of thisinhospitable wilderness. They had expected a fleet of guardshipsprotecting the entrance to the harbour, and they would not have beensurprised if their passage through the narrow Lankester Sound had beenprevented by torpedos, or opposed by privateers equipped by the Trust;and for that reason they had mounted their guns and felt their way fordays at the rate of two or three knots an hour through the narrowpassages which led southward to Port Adelaide, but all they had seenwas the fleeting shape of a white-painted yacht, the now world-famousNadine, scouting on the horizon and then vanishing into thegrey twilight of the long northern day.

Not only had they been permitted to anchor in the natural harbourwhich formed the only approach by sea to the works without theslightest notice being taken of them, but, most wonderful of all, LordOrrel, the English nobleman who was one of the three directors of theTrust, had come down with Count Valdemar, who, with his daughter, hadorganised the Russian expedition, to invite them to dinner in just asfriendly a fashion as they might have done if Boothia Land had beenParis, and the Great Storage Works the Hotel Bristol.

The situation was distinctly mystifying, and therefore not without itselements of uneasiness—even perhaps of something keener, and theuneasiness and the fear were amply shared by the friends whom they metso unexpectedly within the four walls of the great world-citadel.

But astonishment became wonder when the two admirals, clad in theirfull-dress uniforms, found themselves and their scientific colleaguesushered into first a luxuriously-appointed reception-room lighted bysoftly-shaded electric lamps, where the president of the Trust, themulti-millionaire magnate, the king of commerce, who played withmillions as boys play with counters, dispensed cocktails from a barwhich might have been spirited away from the Waldorf-Astoria, and themen and women, friends and enemies, received them in costumes whichmight have come straight from Poole's or Worth's.

Then, when the cocktails had been duly concocted and consumed, andLord Orrel's own butler announced that dinner was served, Lady Olive,as châtelaine of the castle, took the Russian admiral's arm and ledthe way through the curtained archway into the softly-lighteddining-room, so perfectly appointed that it might well have beenspirited from London or Paris or Petersburg to the wilderness ofBoothia.

The French admiral followed with Countess Sophie, Count Valdemar withthe marquise, and Lord Orrel with Miss Chrysie, the rest of the menbringing up the rear.

The dinner, as Admiral Dumont said afterwards to Admiral Nazanoff, wasa gastronomic miracle. Wines, soup, fish, and so on, were perfect; itwas a wonder in the wilderness. But even more wonderful still was theconversation which flowed so easily around the table. No one listeningto it would have dreamt that the greatest war of modern times had beenbrought to a state of utter paralysis by the quiet-spoken men who wereso lavishly entertaining enemies who had come to dispossess them ofthe throne of the world, any more than they would have dreamt that theelements of a possible revolution, greater than any that had yetshaken the foundations of the world, were gathered round thatglittering, daintily-adorned dinner-table.

But when Lady Olive rose and led the way back to the drawing-room LordOrrel began the serious business of the evening by asking Hardress andDoctor Lamson to pass a couple of decanters of '47 port, from thecellars of Orrel Court, to their guests. When the decanters had goneround and the glasses were filled, Lord Orrel raised his own glass,and said:

"Well, gentlemen, the time has come for me to formally and yet not theless cordially bid you welcome to Boothia Land. We understood beforewe left England that you were bound on a voyage of discovery to theNorth Pole; to that goal which so many brave men have tried to reach,and which has so far been unattainable."

"I wish to ask you, on behalf of my colleagues and myself, those whoare working with me in the enterprise which you have to-day seen inconcrete form, whether your visit is one of peace or war. Those, I amwell aware, are grave words to use, yet, under the strangecircumstances which have brought us together, I must ask you tobelieve me that it is necessary, even inevitable, that they should beused. If you have paid a visit to Boothia Land and the Storage Worksonly in the interests of science, I can assure you that we and ourstaff will spare no pains to show you everything that can be seen.

"Considering the slow rate at which you have been compelled bycircumstances to travel from Halifax, it may not be within yourknowledge that since you left Europe we have happily been able to stopa great European war. We have paralysed the fleets and armies of acontinent, and the warships of Europe are now resting motionless indockyards or lying as wrecks on the sands and rocks of the coasts. Thegreat Powers have, in short, found it impossible to prosecute the warwithout our consent—for, as a matter of fact, their armies werestarving to death in face of each other—and have consented to placetheir difference in the hands of King Edward. The German Emperor, thePresident of the French Republic, and the Ministers of all the Powersengaged have assented to this. Here is a transcript of a dispatchreceived from London to-day, which will, I hope, convince you that theworld is, happily, once more at peace. Therefore it is, of course,impossible that your mission can be anything but a peaceful one."

The two admirals and Victor Fargeau had been looking at each othersomewhat uneasily while Lord Orrel was speaking. They had no idea ofthe events which had been taking place in Europe during the lastfortnight. What Lord Orrel had said might be true or simply adeliberate attempt to frighten them out of their purpose; but whetherhe was telling the truth or not, there were still the sealed orderswith which both expeditions had sailed, and obedience is the firstduty of a sailor. So when Lord Orrel continued:

"And, that being so, gentlemen, I hope you will be able to join me ina glass of wine and drink to continued peace to Europe, and prosperityto the enterprise which has so far been successfully carried throughby those who have the honour to be your hosts to-night."

"My lord," said the Russian admiral, rising to his feet, but nottaking his glass, "you have been honest with us, and we—I speak formy colleague, Admiral Dumont, as well—cannot be less than honest withyou. It is not necessary for me to remind you that scientific Polarexpeditions do not carry such guns as we do—guns which, great and allas these buildings are, could wreck them in a few hours. You have beenfrank with us, we will be frank with you. We know nothing of thismysterious power by which, as your lordship says, you have stopped thewar in Europe. As servants of our countries, we know only the orderswe have received, and those are either to compel the surrender ofthese works into our hands, or destroy them. We accepted yourhospitality in the hope that we might be able to make terms for apeaceable surrender."

"And that, sir," said Hardress, starting to his feet, "I may as welltell you at once, is impossible. You can no more take or destroy theseworks than the European armies could fight each other three days ago.You are our guests now, and therefore safe from all harm. You are atliberty to rejoin your ships at any time you please. If you choose toleave us in peace and take your way back you may go, and there will bean end of the matter. But it is only my duty to tell you that if ashot is fired with intent to injure any portion of these works, youand your ships will not only be destroyed, you will be annihilated."

A dead silence of some moments' duration—during which hosts andguests looked at each other as men might before the outburst of astorm—then Victor Fargeau, after an exchange of glances with theFrench admiral, said, in a voice which trembled with angry emotion:

"Milords, I think I am speaking for my comrades as well as myself if Isay that we have come too far to be frightened from the accomplishmentof our purpose. For my own part, I may say that nothing, not even thefear of that annihilation which the viscount has just threatened,would turn me from my purpose, because I have come to take back thatwhich is mine and France's. These works may be your property,gentlemen, because you have built them with your money and yourlabour, but the soul which animates them, which makes them a livingorganism instead of a lifeless mass of brick and stone, the powerwhich you say has enabled you to paralyse the fleets and armies ofEurope, that is mine: for I am the son of the man who created it. Heleft it to me as his last legacy. I have returned to my allegiance toFrance after doing her what service I could elsewhere. Though Franceat first rejected the fruit of my father's genius she has now acceptedit, and in our persons she and her ally are here to demand restitutionof that which has been stolen from her."

"I think you can hardly say stolen, Monsieur Fargeau," said Hardress,without rising. "The French Ministry of War very foolishly refused tohave anything to do with your father's invention, and he may havegiven you one set of specifications, but he also threw himself intothe sea with the other, and we picked him up. You can call it chanceor fate or anything you please, but it certainly wasn't theft. Yousee, we got this land and built these works while the FrenchGovernment was thinking about it; and I must also remind you that theyare built on British soil, and held under lease from a BritishColonial Government.

"Russia, France, and Great Britain are at peace. The war in Europe isover, and therefore you will excuse me if I remind you and yourcolleagues that any attempt to attain your end by force would put yououtside the pale of civilisation. In other words despite your uniformsand your commissions, you would simply be common pirates, with noclaim to any of the rights of regular belligerents."

"But," said Victor Fargeau, speaking with a distinct snarl in hisvoice, "you forget, Monsieur le Vicomte, that we are in a position tocompel surrender, and that, once masters of the works, we shall be, asyou are, above the law. Granted all you say, it comes to this: Nothingcan justify our mission but success, and we shall succeed."

"In that case," said the president, in his somewhat halting French,"it doesn't seem worth while to discuss the matter any further. Wewon't surrender the works, and the last man left alive in them wouldfire the mines and die in their ruins. These gentlemen think they cantake them. We think they can't. It's no use talking about aproposition like that. It's got to be argued with guns and otherthings. It seems to me that the only question we've got to ask is,whether all these gentlemen are unanimous in their determination totake the works by force, if they can?"

Admiral Dumont exchanged a whispered word with his Russian colleague,and then he rose and said:

"Milords, I regret to say our orders leave us no other alternative,and our duty to our countries will compel us to take that action, mostreluctantly as we shall do so. As Monsieur Fargeau has said, webelieve that the vital principle of this system belongs to him and toFrance. We have been sent here to regain what was lost to us throughan unfortunate mistake, and we must do so. Yet we do not wish to beprecipitate. We will ask you to take until six o'clock to-morrowmorning, that is to say, eight hours from now, to reconsider yourdecision as to surrender. And there is just one more point.

"You have certain guests, not entirely voluntary ones, in the works.If it should, unhappily, come to a struggle between us, it would, ofcourse, be impossible for such chivalrous gentlemen to retain twoladies and a Russian nobleman and ex-Minister. We request that, in theunfortunate case of hostilities becoming inevitable, they shall bepermitted to come on board one of our ships."

"Gentlemen, I am exceedingly sorry that matters have come to such apass as this. There can be no question of surrender, but our guestswill be free to join your squadrons when they please. Therefore, fortheir convenience, and in order not to bring our little dinner to tooabrupt a close, we will accept the truce till six o'clock. Perhaps bythat time other and, I think, better counsels may have prevailed withyou.

"I sincerely hope that they will; for I can assure you that my son wasnot speaking idly when he said that you would not only be destroyed,but annihilated. We have here means of destruction which have neveryet been used in war. For your sakes, and for those of the brave menunder your command, I trust that they never will be. And now, asfurther discussion would seem to be unprofitable, suppose we join theladies. We may be friends, at anyrate, till six o'clock."

In the reception-room the mystified guests of the Trust found coffeeand liqueurs, music and song and pleasant conversation, which touchedon every possible subject, save battle, murder, and sudden death. Thencame a stroll on the walls by the light of a brilliantAurora,which made the sun, which was just touching the southern horizon, looklike a pallid and exaggerated moon, and during this stroll VictorFargeau managed to pass a small Lebel revolver and some cartridges toSophie and the count in case of accidents. They had decided to go onboard theIvan the Terrible when the guests left the works, andMa'm'selle Felice and the count's servant were already putting theirbaggage together. The train was to wait for them at midnight.

Meanwhile, Doctor Lamson, who had left the party immediately afterdinner, had been getting the defences of the works in order. The hugeengines, disconnected now from the absorbers and storage batteries,from which the captured world-soul was now being released back intothe earth, were still purring softly, and working as mightily as ever,but now their force was being used to a different end.

On each of the four towers at the corners of the quadrangle there hadbeen mounted an apparatus which looked something like a hugesearchlight, and underneath it were two real searchlights. On eightplatforms, one on each side of the towers, but hidden by a circularwall of twelve-inch hardened steel, were mounted, on disappearingcarriages, the president's big guns, enlarged copies of the one he hadused so effectually on board theNadine. Each would throw ashell containing a hundred pounds of Vandelite to a distance of eightmiles. The great engines worked continuously, storing up liquid air inchambers under the gun platforms, but they were also doing other and,for the present, much more deadly work. The huge copper tubes abovethe searchlights on the towers were turned above the harbour. Theymade neither light nor sound, but all the while they were accumulatingdestruction such as no mortal hand had yet dealt out to an enemy.

The evening passed, apparently in the most friendly and peacefulfashion, and no one suddenly introduced into the reception-room wouldhave dreamt that the members of Lord Orrel's dinner-party were not onthe very best of terms with themselves and each other. Not evenAdelaide or Sophie, sitting there with their revolvers in the pocketsof their dinner dresses, and thoughts of murder in their souls, hadthe remotest idea of how terribly it was destined to end.

Miss Chrysie had sung "The Old Folks at Home," and Adelaide one of theold chansons which had delighted the Grand Monarque in the Trianon.Then Sophie sat down at the piano, and the slow solemn strains of theRussian National Hymn wailed up in majestic chords from theinstrument. There was something of defiance both in her touch and inher voice, but international courtesies were respected, and everyonein the room stood up. For Sophie Valdemar it was her swan-song—sinceshe was never to sing another—and she sang it splendidly, with herwhole soul in it. As the last line, "Give to us peace in our time, OLord," left her lips, Lord Orrel went to her side, and said:

"Thank you, countess. A splendid hymn splendidly sung!" And then heturned to the French and Russian admirals, and said: "Gentlemen, is itnot possible for you to answer, as you could answer, that prayer forpeace? I can assure you, on my word of honour as an English gentleman,that this building in which you are now is impregnable to all forms ofattack known to modern warfare. At a distance of five thousand mileswe have paralysed the fleets and armies of Europe. Your ships are lessthan five miles from our walls: you are not courting defeat, you arecourting annihilation. Can you not leave us in peace?"

"I was under the impression, milord," said Admiral Nazanoff, "thatthat subject was closed for the present. We have yet to be convincedas to these terrible powers which you claim to possess: but our ordersare real, so too are our ships and guns; and since you have refusedthe terms we have offered we have no alternative but to put theseboasted powers of yours to the test of war. I regret it mostexceedingly, as I am sure my colleague, Admiral Dumont, does also, butthat must be our last word."

The French admiral and Victor Fargeau both bowed assent as he spoke.And Lord Orrel answered:

"Well, gentlemen, since you are resolved, so be it. We will notdiscuss the matter further."

While he was speaking Lady Olive had gone to the piano, and, as heceased, the opening chords of "Auld Lang Syne," floated through theroom, and she began to sing the old Scotch song. The words had astrangely satirical meaning for Count Valdemar and his daughter andAdelaide, who had heard them several times at Orrel Court, and LadyOlive put such expression into them that both Sophie and Adelaide feltinclined to be a little ashamed of themselves. Then in the midst ofthe song the clock began to chime twelve, and Lady Olive, with a franklook of defiance in her eyes, switched off suddenly into "God Save theKing," and began to sing the opening lines. At the end of the firstverse she stopped and rose from the piano, and said to her father, whohad been looking a little uneasy, as though he thought it was hardlygood taste:

"I am very sorry, papa, if I have offended, but really I could nothelp it; it seemed inevitable."

"And why not?" said Adelaide. "Was not the same song sung in honour ofthe Grand Monarque by the ladies of Versailles? Well, now, Lady Olive,I suppose it is good-night and good-bye. A thousand thanks for allyour kindness and hospitality."

"Thank you," she said, frigidly. "You are quite welcome to anykindness that I have been able to show you; but, really, I must askyou to pardon me if I decline to shake hands with you after you havedefinitely joined the enemies of my family."

"Perhaps you are right, Lady Olive," laughed Sophie. "Still, I hopethat, at no very distant time, we shall have an opportunity ofreturning some, at least, of your kindness."

A few minutes later hosts and guests were standing outside the westerngate, beside which the electric engine and the saloon carriage werewaiting to take them to the harbour. The departing guests' luggage hadbeen put on a little truck at the back.

"Ah, well, this is the end, I suppose," said Adelaide to Sophie asthey stood in the dim twilight of the Northern midnight, exchangingtheir last formal salutations. "To-night peace; to-morrow war."

"But why not war now?" whispered Sophie. "Look! what a chance! Shallwe ever have another like it? À la guerre; comme à la guerre!"

As she spoke, Chrysie left Lady Olive's side, went to Hardress, andslipped her arm through his, and looked up at him with an expressionthat there was no mistaking.

Then Adelaide de Condé's long pent-up passion broke loose, and the hotblood of hate began to sing in her head and burn in her eyes.Everything, so far, had failed. She had made herself a criminal, andhad been punished by a silent, but humiliating, pardon. She haddisgraced herself in the eyes of the man she would have sold her soulto get, and now—well, what did it matter? To-morrow—nay, within sixhours, it would be war to the death, Why not begin now, as Sophie hadwhispered?

For the moment she was mad, or she would not have done what she did.But she was mad—mad with failure, hopeless love, and the hatred whichonly the "woman scorned" can feel. She pulled Chrysie's revolver outof her pocket, and snarled between her teeth:

The revolver went up at the same moment, and she pulled the trigger.Three shots cracked in quick succession. Hardress went down with abroken thigh; Chrysie, in the act of drawing her own revolver,received a bullet in her arm, which was intended for her heart; andthe third one went through the hood of her cloak, just touching theskin above the ear.

She tried to get out the revolver with her left hand; but, before shecould do so, Sophie and Fargeau had opened fire, and at Sophie's firstshot, she clasped her hand to her side, and went down beside Hardress.Lord Orrel had a bit of his left ear snipped off, and the presidentgot a flesh wound just below the left shoulder.

The two admirals, who had already taken their seats in the car, withMadame de Bourbon and the Russian professor, sprang to their feet;but, before they could leave the car, a strange and awful thinghappened. A blinding glare of light shone out from the southern tower,where Doctor Lamson had been watching the departure through hisnight-glasses. The thin ray wavered about until it fell on SophieValdemar and Adelaide de Condé, still standing close together, withVictor Fargeau just in front of them.

For a moment their faces showed white and ghastly in the blazingradiance; and then, to the amazement and horror of those who saw thestrangest sight that human eye had ever gazed upon, down the ray oflight, invisible, but all-destroying, flowed the terrible energy ofthe disintegrator on the top of the tower. Their hair crinkled up anddisappeared, the flesh melted from their faces and hands. For aninstant, two of the most beautiful countenances in Europe weretransformed into living skulls, which grinned out in unspeakablehideousness. Then their clothing shrivelled up into tinder, and allthree dropped together in an indistinguishable heap of crumblingbones.

Almost at the moment that the man and the two women who, but a fewmoments ago, had been standing in the full pride of their youth andhealth and beauty, had dropped to the earth in little heaps ofcrumbling bones, whistles sounded inside the works, and a number ofmen came out of the western gate, some of them armed with rifles andrevolvers, and others carrying stretchers. Hardress and Chrysie werelifted on to two of these, and Lady Olive went back into the workswith them.

Lord Orrel and the president, after having their wounds hastilybandaged for the time being, went to the door of the saloon carriage,and Lord Orrel said, shortly and sternly:

"Madame de Bourbon, as you have seen, your niece has ceased to exist.Count Valdemar, the same is true of your daughter. And as for you,gentlemen," he went on, turning to the two admirals, "you have seensomething of those means of defence of which I spoke to you afterdinner.

"There," he went on, pointing to the little heap of mingled boneslying on the sand, "is the proof of it. Every human thing that triesto pass the limits of those rays will share the same fate. Thesepeople were enemies, but they were worse—they were traitors; and, asyou have seen, they wished to be murderers. They have justly earnedtheir fate. There is no reason why you should share it. Take myadvice, I pray you, advice which I give from the bottom of my heart.Weigh anchor to-night, go back to Europe, and you will find thateverything that we have told you is true."

"That, my Lord Orrel, is impossible," said Admiral Nazanoff, coming tothe door of the car. "By what devilish means you have slain CaptainFargeau and those two ladies we know not, save that it must have beendone through some material mechanism. To-morrow our guns shall tryconclusions with it, whatever it is. Yes, even though you turned thatmurderous ray on us and killed us, as you did them, for our men havetheir orders. And now, I suppose, we had better get out and walk. Wecan hardly expect the use of your train after what has happened."

"You needn't worry about that, admiral," said the president; "we'vepromised you safe conduct to your ships, and you shall have it. Butlook here, count," he went on, pulling a heavy six-shooter out of hispocket, "don't you get fingering about that pocket as if you had a gunin it, or it'll be the last shooting-iron you ever did touch. We don'twant any more shooting than we've had till we begin business in themorning."

Count Valdemar saw that he was covered, and he didn't like the look ofthe hard, steady, grey eyes behind the barrel of the long repeatingpistol. He took his hand empty out of his pocket, clasped it with theleft over his knees, and shrugged his shoulders. There was nothing tobe said, and so he kept something of his dignity by holding histongue, and the president went on:

"Well, that's better. You keep your hands where they are, and no harmwill happen to you just now. But don't you think, gentlemen, that itwould be better if Madame de Bourbon came back with us into the works,where she will be safe, anyhow safer than she would be on one of yourships, if you are still determined to fight it out."

"I am much obliged to you, Monsieur le President," replied the oldlady, in her most autocratic manner; "but after what has happened, andwhat I have seen, I prefer to return with my own people."

"And," added Admiral Dumont, "you may be quite certain, monsieur, thatbefore this most regrettable battle begins at six o'clock, one of theships will have taken Madame de Bourbon beyond the reach of harm."

"With that, of course, we must be content," said Lord Orrel, comingback to the president's side. "And now, gentlemen, since, as you say,it is to be war between us, I have one more favour to ask: Here is theman," he went on, pointing to the second engineer of theNadine, who had been brought out of the gate by a couple ofstalwart quartermasters, "here is the man who allowed himself to bebribed by the late Countess Sophie Valdemar and the Marquise deMontpensier to wreck the engines of theNadine, and so, as theythought, turn the course of fate in their favour. We have not punishedhim, but we have no further use for his services. He is a goodengineer, whatever else he may be, and so perhaps you will be able tofind him some employment on board one of your ships. Now, Robertsonand Thompson, help Mr Williams into the car, please. These gentlemenwant to get down to the harbour."

The two quartermasters picked up the handcuffed Williams, and flunghim in through the open door of the saloon. Then the president said tothe man at the engine, "Right away, driver, and come back when thesegentlemen are safe on board. Salud, Señores," he went on to the twoadmirals, raising his hat with his unwounded arm. "Take myadvice—clear out, and don't let us have any shooting in the morning.I reckon we've had quite trouble enough already."

At this moment the driver of the electric motor sounded his bell, thetwo admirals and the count raised their hats and stared out throughthe window with grim, immovable faces, and so went back to the ships,marvelling greatly at the wonderful horror they had beheld. Madame deBourbon was already in hysterics, succoured by Ma'm'selle Felice.Count Valdemar, though stricken to the heart by the frightful fate ofthe only human being that he had loved since his wife had died nearlytwenty years before, was yet determined to use all his influence tocompel the admirals to take the amplest possible revenge for herslaying. Certainly if the works were not battered into ruins withintwelve hours, it would not be his fault; and then, as the little traindrew out, he fell to wondering whether Hardress and Chrysie Vandelwere killed or not.

"And are you still decided to fight, gentlemen?" he said to theadmirals a few moments later, when the car was rattling over thenarrow rails, "and, if so, what are you going to do with this thing?"He touched Mr Williams's still prostrate body with his toe as he saidthis.

"I need not tell you, count," replied Admiral Nazanoff, "as a Russianto a Russian, that orders are orders, and mine are to take those worksor destroy them. I admit that what we saw to-night was very wonderfuland very terrible, but when Holy Russia says 'Go and do,' then we mustgo and do, or die. The Little Father has no forgiveness for failure.That, in Russia, is the one unpardonable fault. Our guns will open atsix in the morning. That man will take his chance with the rest of ourmen."

"And," said Admiral Dumont, "even if we cannot take the works and usethem, we may destroy them, and so rid the world of this detestablecommercial tyranny which would make war a matter of poll-tax. We shallopen fire at six. Ah, here we are at the wharf. Now let us go and seethat everything is ready. Admiral Nazanoff, I believe you are mysenior in service; it will therefore be yours to fire the first shot.TheCaiman shall fire the second."

"And I shall ask you, admiral," said the count to Nazanoff, "as apersonal favour, and also, as I will say frankly, a matter of personalvengeance, to be allowed to fire that first gun."

"My dear count," replied the admiral, "with the greatest pleasure. Itshall be laid by the best gunner on board theIvan, and yourhand shall send the shot, I hope, into the vitals of these accursedworks. If we could only manage to drop a hundred-pound melinite shellinto the right place, it would do a great deal."

Until five o'clock there was silence both in the works and on theships in the harbour. Then, as the southern sun began to climb on itsupward curve, the eight searchlights on the towers blazed out, lookingghostly white in the twilight. They were arranged so that they formedtwo intersecting triangles on each face of the works.

From the top of the western gate flamed a huge star. It was aten-million-candle-power light, and its radiance, cast directly uponthe harbour, was so intense that while the ships were flooded withlight, the dim, watery rays of the sun made twilight in comparisonwith it.

"That is well managed," said Admiral Nazanoff to the count as theywere taking their early coffee on the bridge of the ice-breaker. "Isuppose that devil-ray, or whatever they call it, is running alongthose lights, and so making a barrier that no living thing can passwithout destruction. It is an amazing invention, whatever it is; butit is murder, not war. Still, if it comes to an assault, we must rushit. Meanwhile it is to be hoped that our guns will have destroyedtheir infernal apparatus.

"You see, we have six ships here in line abreast, and twelve guns,each throwing a melinite shell of not less than a hundred pounds, aretrained on the face of the building. When your excellency has firedthe first shot they will open, and, at the same time, fifty smallerquick-firers will sweep the walls in such a fashion that no livingthing will exist for a moment, either on top of them or in front. Infact, once let us destroy the apparatus which generates that horribledevil-ray, I can give it no other name, and the works are ours."

"But the shooting will not be all on our side, admiral, I fear," saidthe count. "That is a very terrible little gun that they have on theNadine. It was only a twelve-pounder, but a couple of shotssent theVlodoya to the bottom, and this man Vandel—if thelight had been better he would not have been living now—told mehimself that they had guns ten times as powerful on the works."

"Most probably a little Yankee bluff, my dear count," said theadmiral. "I dislike those searchlights much more than I fear the guns.You see, it is almost impossible to take an accurate aim against asearchlight, while it is perfectly easy to shoot from behind or belowthem. Still, all our guns are fortunately laid already. Yours, whichis the starboard one down yonder, is trained on the gate in thecentre. The shell will pierce that, and if it strikes the engine-houseor whatever it is in the middle of the square it will probably disablethe works. That, I believe, is the heart and centre of the wholesystem."

"It is very probable," said the count, who had already described whathe had seen of the works to the admiral, "and I hope my shot will findit, for then my poor Sophie will be partly, at least, avenged. It wasa terrible end for two such beautiful women, was it not, admiral?Fargeau did not matter so much; for, after all, he was only ahalf-turned traitor and spy."

"It was the most awful sight I have ever beheld," replied the admiral;"indeed I cannot think that human eyes could look upon anything morehorrible. But by mid-day I hope our guns will have avenged them ascompletely as good shot and shell can do. And now, excellency, withyour permission we must have our last council of war; I must see mycaptains and arrange the last details with Admiral Dumont, as it isgetting near six. I took the trouble of setting my watch by the clockin the reception-room."

"And mine," said the count, taking out his repeater, "has been goingwith it for days. When this chimes six we may begin."

Within a few minutes the two admirals and the captains of thedifferent vessels went, by appointment, to the cabin of theIvan, and the last details were arranged. As the clock strucksix every available gun was to open on the western face of the works,and the fire of the heaviest guns was to be concentrated on the towersand the central gate until the searchlights were extinguished and thedeadly rays rendered impotent.

Meanwhile boats and steam-pinnaces were to be ready to land thesailors and marines with their machine-guns, and as soon as there wasreason to believe that the rays were no longer operative, a generaladvance in force was to be made on the western gate. No quarter was tobe given; no prisoners taken. Victor Fargeau had left his father'slegacy and all necessary directions for operating the works withAdmiral Dumont, and so there would be no necessity for any assistancefrom the prisoners, and therefore no need to take any.

At five minutes to six Count Valdemar and Admiral Nazanoff went downon to the fore-deck. At the same moment that they were making theirlast examination of the guns, a thin ray of electric light shone outfrom the top of a little rocky promontory to the north of the harbour,where there was a little white tower which the invaders had taken fora harmless and necessary lighthouse. The ray fell directly on thefore-deck of theIvan.

"Ah," said the admiral, stepping back under the protection of the topworks, "take care, your excellency, that is only about a hundredmetres off, and they may have one of those infernal rays there."

"It is six o'clock," said the count, taking his watch in his left handand the lanyard of the gun in his right. The beam of ghostly lightwavered and fell on him as he stepped back to pull. The next instantthe flesh of his uplifted hand melted away from the bones, the lanyardfell away. With a cry of agony he dropped his hand, and then theterrible ray fell on his face. The horror-stricken officers and mensaw it change from a face to a skull, watched his fur cap shrivel upand vanish, the hair and flesh on his scalp disappear. Then hedropped, and the bare skull struck the steel deck with a queer sharpclick.

A sudden paralysis of horror fell upon officers and men alike, untilthe admiral roared out an order to turn the port gun on to thelighthouse. He was obeyed, and the gun was fired hurriedly; the shellstruck the rock just below the lighthouse and exploded with a terrificreport, but the living rock held good, and the deadly ray shone on.The gunner who had fired it was blasted to a skeleton in a moment, andthe rest of the officers and men ran for shelter like so manyfrightened hares. They were ready to face any ordinary danger, butthis was too awful for mortal courage.

Then the ray wandered over the fore-decks and bridges of the otherships till it reached theCaiman, on the bridge of whichAdmiral Dumont was standing, a horrified spectator of what hadhappened on theIvan. He had a pistol in his hand; a shot wasto be the signal for the French vessels to open fire. The ray fell onhis hand as he raised it to fire, the hand shrivelled to bone beforehe could pull the trigger. But the gunners had seen the signal, andthe guns roared out. Over fifty guns of all calibres roared andcrackled for a minute or so, and a brief hurricane of shell sweptacross the stony plain between the harbour and the works.

Then it stopped. Every gun was silent, for not a man dared go near it.Every officer and man who had shown himself in the open had beenreduced to a heap of bones before he could get back under shelter.Then those who were out of reach of the terrible death-rays saw sixlong guns rise from the masked batteries beside the two towers andover the central gate. There was no flash or report, but the nextmoment six hundred-pound shells, charged with Vandelite, had struckthe French and Russian vessels, and, as a fighting force, theexpeditions had practically ceased to exist.

Every ship was hit either in her hull or her top works. The steelstructures crumpled up and collapsed under the terrible energy of theexplosion. The steel-walled casemates were cracked and ripped open asthough they had been built of common deal, and every man on deckwithin twenty yards of the explosion dropped dead or insensible. Bothadmirals were killed almost at the same moment.

The guns sank back and rose again, and again the explosions crashedout on board the doomed ships. The death-ray played continuously overtheir decks and every man who showed himself fell dead with the fleshwithered from his face and skull. The terrible bombardment lasted forabout a quarter of an hour, and then when only theCaiman andIvan were left afloat, and the crews of the other vessels hadeither gone down with them or had swum or scrambled ashore in theboats, the guns ceased, and the rays were shut off.

This ended the fight, if, indeed, fight it could be called. Several ofthe shells had struck the walls and blown out large portions of thefacings, but no vital spot had been touched, thanks to the difficultyof taking aim in the blinding glare of the searchlights. The littlelighthouse on the north point, which had proved such a veritable towerof strength, was still unharmed, although the rocks about it weresplintered and pulverised by shell-fire.

Only about a dozen petty officers and a couple of hundred sailors andstokers escaped, and most of them were half-mad with fear. They wereordered back on board theIvan, which, thanks to her enormouslystrong construction, had stood the terrible bombardment better thantheCaiman. Her topworks were smashed out of all shape, and herdecks were ripped and rent in all directions, but her hull was stillsound, and a few days' work at her engines would make themserviceable. And in her the survivors of the ill-fated expeditionultimately went back to Europe with a formal message from thedirectors of the Trust to the governments of France and Russia,expressing their regret that so much damage and loss of life hadresulted from the act of piracy committed by those who had mistakenthe Magnetic for the North Pole.

TheCorneille, the old wooden ship which had conveyed Madame deBourbon out of the range of the guns and the death-ray, was broughtback the next morning by theNadine and theWashington,whose business it had been to stop the escape of any French or Russianvessel from the waters of Boothia, and as she was immediatelyavailable for the service, she carried Madame de Bourbon back toFrance. With her she took a small box of oak, which contained all thatthe death-ray had left of Adelaide de Condé, Marquise de Montpensier,the last, save herself, of the daughters of the old line of theBourbons.

A similar casket containing the bones of Sophie Valdemar and herfather were sent under her care to the count's brother, whose place inPetersburg was less than a hundred yards distant from the GermanEmbassy, the scene of the reception where what was now but dry bones,dust, and ashes, had been life and beauty and subtly working brains,plotting for the possession of the world-empire, whose throne was notnow in any of the splendid capitals of Europe, or of the east, orwest, but within the four-square limits—measuring four hundred feeteach way—within which the World Masters reigned impregnable andsupreme.

The short Northern summer was drawing rapidly to its close whenChrysie and Hardress were pronounced fit to travel. Hardress had had avery narrow shave, for one of the count's bullets had grazed the rightlung, and the wound had brought on an acute attack of pleuralinflammation.

Chrysie's wounds had healed within a fortnight, and as soon as she wasable to get about she did her best to supplant Lady Olive as nurse inthe sickroom.

"You may be his sister," she said, in answer to a strong protest fromLady Olive, "and you're just as good a sister as a man wants to have;but I hope I'm going to be something more than a sister; and so, ifhe's going to be mine and I'm going to be his, I want to do the rest.After all, you see it's only a sort of looking after one's ownproperty."

Just at this moment Hardress woke up and turned a languid head and apair of weary and yet eager eyes upon the two girls.

"Chrysie," he said, in a thick, hoarse whisper, and yet throughsmiling lips, "in the speech of your own country, you've got it inonce. There's just one thing I want now to make me well. You know whatit is. Come and give it me."

"Why, you mean thing!" said Chrysie, going towards the bed, "I believeyou've heard everything we've been saying."

"Some of it," he whispered. "What about that reserve—that territory,you know, that I was supposed to have an option on in Buffalo?"

"Buffalo's not Boothia, Shafto," she replied, using his Christian namefor the first time since they had known each other; "but the reserve'sall right. I guess you've only got to take up your option when youwant it."

"Then I'll take it now," he whispered again, looking weariedly and yetwith an infinite longing into her eyes.

"And so you shall," she said, leaning down over the bed. "You havedone the work—you and Lord Orrel and poppa. You've done everythingthat you said you would; you're masters of the world, and, as far asmortals can be, controllers of human destiny—you and Doctor Lamson.He began it, didn't he? If it hadn't been for him and his knowledgeyou'd have done nothing at all. And he's got his reward too. That'sso; isn't it, Olive? Yes; you can tell the story afterwards, but youand I are going to marry two of the world masters, and we're each ofus going to have a world master for father, and—well, I guess that'sabout all there is in it. And now I'm going to seal the contract."

She bent her head and kissed Hardress's pale but still smiling lips,and just at that moment there was a knock at the door. Lady Olivealmost involuntarily said, "Come in," and Doctor Lamson, who had, nextto Emil Fargeau, been the working genius of the whole vast schemewhich the dead savant had worked out in his laboratory at Strassburg,came in.

Miss Chrysie, flushing and bright-eyed, straightened herself up,looking most innocently guilty. Doctor Lamson looked at her for amoment and then at Lady Olive. His own clear, deep-set grey eyes litup with a flash, and his clean-cut lips curved into a smile, as hesaid:

"I hope I'm not intruding, as a much more distinguished person thanmyself once said; but, as Hardress is so much better, havingapparently found a most potent, though unqualified, physician, Ithought you would like to hear the latest news from Europe. The Powershave surrendered at discretion. As they can't fight, they are willingto make peace. They have accepted King Edward as arbitrator, and he,like the good sportsman that he is, has decided that in future, if acountry wants to fight another, it shall submit thecasus bellito a committee of the Powers not concerned in the quarrel. If they areall concerned in it, the tribunal is to consist of the Pope, theArchbishop of Canterbury, and the Archimandrite of the Greek Church.If either of the belligerents refuse arbitration after the dispute hasbeen thoroughly gone through, or begins fighting before the decisionis delivered, it will have the same experiences as Europe had in thelate war—which, of course, was no war."

"Because we stopped it," said Lady Olive, looking straight across theroom into Doctor Lamson's eyes.

"Well, yes,we," said Chrysie, standing up beside the bed. "Ireckon, all things considered, we four have had about as much to dowith stopping this war and teaching the nations to behave decently asanybody else on earth. We are here on the throne of the world, kingsand queens from pole to pole!"

"But, my dear Chrysie," exclaimed Lady Olive, flushing from hershapely chin to her temples, and making a move towards the door,"surely you don't mean——"

"I don't mean any more than we all mean in our hearts," interruptedChrysie, taking Hardress's hand in hers. "What's the use of worldmasters and world mistresses trying to hide things from each other? Wefour people here in this room run the world. I want to run this man,and you want to run that one; and they, of course, think they'll runus, which they won't! Anyhow, we're all willing to try that, and Ithink the best thing we can do is to sign, seal, and deliver thecontract of the offensive and defensive alliance right here and now.You kiss, and we'll kiss, and that's all there is to it."

ByFlorence Warden, Author of "The House on the Marsh,""Something in the City," etc.

ByGeorge Griffith, Author of the "Angel of the Revolution,""Brothers of the Chain," etc.

By J. S.Fletcher, Author of "When Charles the First wasKing," "The Three Days' Terror," etc. With Eight Full PageIllustrations on Art Paper, by G. P.Rhodes.

ByAdeline Sergeant, Author of "The Story of a PenitentSoul," "The Future of Phyllis," etc.

By R. H.Forster. (A Thrilling Tale of the Border Raiders ofthe Sixteenth Century.)

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By M.McD. Bodkin, K.C., Author of "Lord Edward Fitz-Gerald,""White Magic," "Paul Beck," "A Stolen Life," "The Rebels," etc.

ByRichard Marsh, Author of "The Beetle," "The TwickenhamPeerage," etc.
This is one long novel and the most important and amusing the authorhas written since the publication of his famous book, "The Beetle."

ByHume Nisbet, Author of "Bail Up," "Mistletoe Manor," etc.With Frontispiece and Vignette Title page by the Author.

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By W.Carter Platts, Author of "Papa Limited," etc. Withabout 60 Illustrations by the Author. [A Book of Humour.]

ByGeorge Griffith, Author of "In an Unknown Prison Land,"etc. With Numerous Illustrations. Crown 8vo, cloth gilt,6s.

Printed on Hand-made Paper, with Twenty Plates in Photogravure,limited to 300 Copies. Royal 4to. Price £3 3s. net.

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A HISTORY OF THE CONNECTION OF HIS MAJESTY KING EDWARD VII. WITH THENATIONAL SPORT

The Times.—"No more appropriate time could have been selected for the publication of a book such as this, which relates with much wealth of detail and in a very spirited style the history of the King's connection with the Turf. Mr. Spencer is fully justified in his claim that this volume will be 'a record for all time of the important part which His Majesty has taken in racing affairs'. The volume has been most sumptuously got up, being illustrated with 20 plates in photogravure from photographs by Mr. Clarence Hailey, of Newmarket, who has the sole right of photographing the King's horses—these plates, with a special one of His Majesty as a frontispiece, presenting the King's principal racehorses, his two trainers (first John Porter and subsequently Richard Marsh), and his jockeys. Yet all the money lavished upon the exterior of this fine book would be thrown away were the contents deficient in interest or lacking in accuracy; but the text is by no means the least attractive part of the volume, while the author appears to have thoroughly mastered his subject."

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By Capt.W. E. Cairnes. Author of "An Absent-Minded War."Crown 8vo, special cover design, 6s. With 16 full-page Illustrationson art paper byR. Caton Woodville. [Third Edition.

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A HISTORY OF THE CONNECTION OF HIS MAJESTY KING EDWARD VII. WITH THENATIONAL SPORT

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The Sin of Hagar.	Helen Mathers.
The Lovely Mrs. Pemberton.	Florence Warden.
An Ill Wind.	Mrs.Lovett Cameron.
Woman—The Sphinx.	Fergus Hume.
A Beautiful Rebel.	Ernest Glanville.
The Juggler and the Soul.	Helen Mathers.

REMEMBRANCE.	Mrs.Lovett Cameron.
	[Shortly.
MIDSUMMER MADNESS.	Mrs.Lovett Cameron.
A DIFFICULT MATTER.	Mrs.Lovett Cameron.
A FAIR FRAUD.	Mrs.Lovett Cameron.
THE CRAZE OF CHRISTINA.	Mrs.Lovett Cameron.
A PASSING FANCY.	Mrs.Lovett Cameron.
BITTER FRUIT.	Mrs.Lovett Cameron.
AN ILL WIND.	Mrs.Lovett Cameron.
A WOMAN'S NO.	Mrs.Lovett Cameron.
PARTNERS THREE.	May Crommelin.
	[Shortly.
CRIMSON LILIES.	May Crommelin.
KINSAH.	May Crommelin.
BETTINA.	May Crommelin.
THE LUCK OF A LOWLAND LADDIE.	May Crommelin.
A WOMAN-DERELICT.	May Crommelin.
A DAUGHTER OF ENGLAND.	May Crommelin.
THE JADE EYE.	Fergus Hume.
	[Shortly.
THE TURNPIKE HOUSE.	Fergus Hume.
A TRAITOR IN LONDON.	Fergus Hume.
THE GOLDEN WANG-HO.	Fergus Hume.
WOMAN—THE SPHINX.	Fergus Hume.
TREWINNOT OF GUY'S.	Mrs.Coulson Kernahan.
FRANK REDLAND, RECRUIT.	Mrs.Coulson Kernahan.
THE AVENGING OF RUTHANNA.	Mrs.C. Kernahan.
NO VINDICATION.	Mrs.Coulson Kernahan.
AN UNWISE VIRGIN.	Mrs.Coulson Kernahan.
PURSUED BY THE LAW.	J. MacLaren Cobban.
AN AFRICAN TREASURE.	J. MacLaren Cobban.
I'D CROWNS RESIGN.	J. MacLaren Cobban.
THE GREEN TURBANS.	J. MacLaren Cobban.
THE MACHINATIONS OF JANET.	Sarah Tytler.
	[Shortly.
LOGAN'S LOYALTY.	Sarah Tytler.
JEAN KEIR OF CRAIGNEIL.	Sarah Tytler.
WOMEN MUST WEEP.	Sarah Tytler.
THE COURTSHIP OF SARAH.	Sarah Tytler.
No. 3, THE SQUARE.	Florence Warden.
	[Shortly.
AN OUTSIDER'S YEAR.	Florence Warden.
ONCE TOO OFTEN.	Florence Warden.
THE LOVELY MRS. PEMBERTON.	Florence Warden.
SOMETHING IN THE CITY.	Florence Warden.
PAUL LE MAISTRE.	Frederic Carrel.
THE PROGRESS OF PAULINE KESSLER.	Fred. Carrel.
THE REALIZATION OF JUSTUS MORAN.	Fred. Carrel.
HOUSES OF IGNORANCE.	Frederic Carrel.
SENT TO COVENTRY.	Esmè Stuart.
IN THE DARK.	Esmè Stuart.
THE STRENGTH OF STRAW.	Esmè Stuart.
NOBLER THAN REVENGE.	Esmè Stuart.
NATIVE BORN.	William S. Walker ("Coo-ee").
VIRGIN GOLD.	William S. Walker ("Coo-ee").
	[Sixteen Illustrations.
IN THE BLOOD.	William S. Walker ("Coo-ee").
	[Sixteen Illustrations.
ZEALANDIA'S GUERDON.	William S. Walker ("Coo-ee").
*A CABINET SECRET (5/-).(Illustrated.)*	Guy Boothby.
ANNA LOMBARD. (27th Edition.)	Victoria Cross.
THE BREAD OF TEARS.	G. B. Burgin.
THE SHUTTERS OF SILENCE.	G. B. Burgin.
THE WAY OUT.	G. B. Burgin.
A SON OF MAMMON.	G. B. Burgin.
A WILFUL WOMAN.	G. B. Burgin.
THE ARCADIANS. (Illustrated.)	J. S. Fletcher.
	[Shortly.
THE HARVESTERS.	J. S. Fletcher.
THE THREE DAYS' TERROR.	J. S. Fletcher.
THE GOLDEN SPUR.	J. S. Fletcher.
THE INVESTIGATORS.	J. S. Fletcher.
THE INDISCRETION OF GLADYS.	Lucas Cleeve.
	[Shortly.
THE PURPLE OF THE ORIENT.	Lucas Cleeve.
YOLANDE THE PARISIENNE.	Lucas Cleeve.
PLATO'S HANDMAIDEN.	Lucas Cleeve.
THE REAL CHRISTIAN.	Lucas Cleeve.
HIS ITALIAN WIFE.	Lucas Cleeve.
WICKED ROSAMOND.	Mina Sandeman.
CHARMING MISS KYRLE.	Mina Sandeman.
VERONICA VERDANT.	Mina Sandeman.
FUGITIVE ANNE.	Mrs.Campbell Praed.
DWELLERS BY THE RIVER.	Mrs.Campbell Praed.
THE OTHER MRS. JACOBS.	Mrs.Campbell Praed.
	[In Preparation.
THE ANGEL OF CHANCE.	G. G. Chatterton.
STRAIGHT SHOES.	G. G. Chatterton.
THE COURT OF DESTINY.	G. G. Chatterton.
THE ROYAL SISTERS.	Frank Mathew.
IRISH HOLIDAYS.	Robert Thynne.
THE STORY OF A CAMPAIGN ESTATE.	Robert Thynne.
BOFFIN'S FIND. (Frontispiece.)	Robert Thynne.
THE CURSE OF EDEN.	Author of "The Master Sinner."
BARBARA WEST.	Keighley Snowden.
THE PARISH DOCTOR.	Alec Cook.
THE DIVA.	Annie Thomas (Mrs.Pender Cudlip).
IN THE SHADOW OF THE PURPLE.	George Gilbert.
THE BÂTON SINISTER.	George Gilbert.
	[Shortly.
THE MILL OF SILENCE.	Bernard Capes.
BY THAMES AND TIBER.	Mrs.Aylmer Gowing.
AS CÆSAR'S WIFE.	Mrs.Aylmer Gowing.
A BEAUTIFUL REBEL.	Ernest Glanville.
THE DIAMOND OF EVIL.	Fred Whishaw.
THE MAGNETIC GIRL. (A Long Novel.)	Richard Marsh.
	[Shortly.
CURIOS. (Eight Illustrations.)	Richard Marsh.
ADA VERNHAM, ACTRESS.	Richard Marsh.
	[Frontispiece.
BENEATH THE VEIL.	Adeline Sergeant.
	[Shortly.
THE FUTURE OF PHYLLIS.	Adeline Sergeant.
THE MISSION OF MARGARET.	Adeline Sergeant.
SWEET "DOLL" OF HADDON HALL.	J. E. Muddock.
	[Shortly.
A WOMAN'S CHECKMATE.	J. E. Muddock.
FAIR ROSALIND.	J. E. Muddock.
A SOCIAL PRETENDER.	Winifred Graham.
MEN OF MARLOWE'S.	Mrs.Henry Dudeney.
ALL THEY WENT THROUGH.	F. W. Robinson.
THE SHADOW OF ALLAH.	Morley Roberts.
THE LORDS OF LIFE.	Bessie Dill.
MISS PAUNCEFORT'S PERIL.	Mrs.Charles Martin.
MALICE OF GRACE WENTWORTH.	R. H. Heppenstall.
FRIENDSHIP AND FOLLY.	Maria Louise Pool.
GLIMPSES FROM WONDERLAND.	John Ingold.
	[Five Illustrations.
BLUE BONNETS UP.	Thomas Pinkerton.
THE IVORY BRIDE.	Thomas Pinkerton.
FATHER ANTHONY.	Robert Buchanan.
THE SCARLET SEAL.	Dick Donovan.
THE WORLD MASTERS.	George Griffith.
THE STORY OF LOIS.	Katharine S. Macquoid.
A WARD OF THE KING.	Katharine S. Macquoid.
HIS MASTER PURPOSE.	Harold Bindloss.
	[Shortly.
A WOMAN IN THE CITY.	Helen Bayliss.
	[Shortly.
THE CAR OF PHŒBUS.	Robert James Lees.
THE HERETIC.	Robert James Lees.
THROUGH THE MISTS.	Robert James Lees.
IN THE DAYS OF GOLDSMITH.	M.McD. Bodkin, K.C.
	[Shortly.
CICELY VAUGHAN.	Philip Davenant.
WISE IN HIS GENERATION.	Philip Davenant.
FOR A GOD DISHONOURED.	Anonymous.
MERCILESS LOVE.	Author of "For a God Dishonoured."
THE GIRL WITH FEET OF CLAY.	Edgar Turner.
	[Frontispiece.
THE EXPERIMENT OF DR. NEVILL.	E. H. Beaman.
PAUL THE OPTIMIST.	W. P. Dothie.
HIS 'PRENTICE HAND.	Sydney Phelps.
THE CROWNING OF GLORIA.	Richard Reardon.
THE HOUSE OF HARDALE.	Rose Perkins.
THE TRUST TRAPPERS.	Hume Nisbet.
	[Shortly.
MISTLETOE MANOR.	Hume Nisbet. (Illustrated by Author.)
THE BURDEN OF HER YOUTH.	L. T. Meade.
	[Shortly.
CONFESSIONS OF A COURT MILLINER.	L. T. Meade.
IN SUMMER SHADE.	Mary E. Mann.
THE LAST FORAY.	R. H. Forster.
GEORGE AND SON.	Edward H. Cooper.
THE FOOLING OF DON JAIME.	W. Terrell Garnett.
THE SIN OF HAGAR.	Helen Mathers.
THRALDOM.	Helen Prothero-Lewis.
	[Shortly.
WHEN LOVE IS KIND.	H. A. Hinkson.
WOUNDED PRIDE.	Isabel Howard.
THE KINGDOM OF MAMMON.	Violet Tweedale.
THE HOSPITAL SECRET.	James Compton.
CASTLE ORIOL.	Charles Hannan.
A WEAVER OF RUNES.	W. Dutton Burrard.
THE LOVE OF A FORMER LIFE.	C. J. H. Halcombe.
OSWALD STEELE.	Eibbon Berkley.
A MAN OF IRON.	J. Morgan-de-groot.

THE SILENT HOUSE IN PIMLICO.	Fergus Hume.
THE BISHOP'S SECRET.	Fergus Hume.
THE CRIMSON CRYPTOGRAM.	Fergus Hume.
WHEN THE MOPOKE CALLS.	W. S. Walker ("Coo-ee").
	[Twenty-two Illustrations.
FROM THE LAND OF THE WOMBAT.	William S. Walker ("Coo-ee").
	[Thirteen Illustrations.
MRS. MUSGRAVE AND HER HUSBAND.	Richd. Marsh.
THE LOVE AFFAIRS OF A CURATE.	Marcus Reay.
FORBIDDEN PATHS.	Marcus Reay.
THE CRIME IN THE WOOD.	T. W. Speight.
JUGGLING FORTUNE.	T. W. Speight.
LETTERS TO DOLLY.	Keble Howard.
	[Eighty-two Illustrations byTom Browne, R.I.
THE MASTER SINNER.	By a well-known Author.
THE SPORT OF CIRCUMSTANCE.	G. G. Chatterton.
FATHER ANTHONY.	Robert Buchanan.
	[Sixteen Illustrations.
PAPA, LIMITED.	W. Carter Platts.
	[Forty Illustrations by the Author.
UP TO-MORROW.	W. Carter Platts.
	[Seventy Illustrations by the Author.
	[Shortly.
A DIFFICULT MATTER.	Mrs.Lovett Cameron.
TREWINNOT OF GUY'S.	Mrs.Coulson Kernahan.
TRANSPLANTED.	Nicholas P. Murphy.
	[Profusely Illustrated.
A CORNER IN BALLYBEG.	Nicholas P. Murphy.
AN ISLAND INTERLUDE.	John Amity.
THE DESIRED HAVEN. (Frontispiece.)	Anonymous.
MARY BRAY, X HER MARK.	Jenner Tayler.
ON PAROLE.	Mina Doyle.
PATHS OF THE DEAD. (Frontispiece.)	Hume Nisbet.
A FIGHTER IN KHAKI.	Ralph Rodd.
INFELIX.	Lady Duntze.
DIDUMS.	Jean Macpherson.
A DREAM OF FAME.	Jean Delaire.
BY JUMNA'S BANKS.	Paul Markham.
ALL THE WINNERS.	Nathaniel Gubbins.
	[Shortly.
PICK-ME-UPS.	Nathaniel Gubbins.
DEAD CERTAINTIES.	Nathaniel Gubbins.
A MAN OF TO-DAY.	Helen Mathers.
THE JUGGLER AND THE SOUL.	Helen Mathers.
WITH BOUGHT SWORDS.	Harry Fowler.
HIS LITTLE BILL OF SALE.	Ellis J. Davis.
YOUTH AT THE PROW.	E. Rentoul Esler.
MISS NANSE.	Sara Tytler.
SECOND LIEUTENANT CELIA.	L. Campbell Davidson.
THE DAME OF THE FINE GREEN KIRTLE.	Torquil MacLeod.

Father Anthony.	ByRobert Buchanan.
The Silent House in Pimlico.	ByFergus Hume.
The Bishop's Secret.	ByFergus Hume.
The Crimson Cryptogram.	ByFergus Hume.
A Traitor in London.	ByFergus Hume.
A Difficult Matter.	By Mrs.Lovett Cameron.
The Craze of Christina.	By Mrs.Lovett Cameron.
A Passing Fancy.	By Mrs.Lovett Cameron.
The Mystery of Dudley Horne.	ByFlorence Warden.
The Bohemian Girls.	ByFlorence Warden.
Kitty's Engagement.	ByFlorence Warden.
Our Widow.	ByFlorence Warden.
Curios: Some Strange Adventures of Two Bachelors.	ByRichard Marsh.
Mrs. Musgrave and Her Husband.	ByRichard Marsh.
The Eye of Istar.	ByWilliam Le Queux.
The Veiled Man.	ByWilliam Le Queux.
The Wooing of Monica.	By Mrs.L. T. Meade.
The Sin of Jasper Standish.	ByRita.
A Cabinet Secret.	BYGuy Boothby.
A Man of To-Day.	ByHelen Mathers.
Robert Orange.	ByJohn Oliver Hobbes.
The Progress of Pauline Kessler.	ByFrederic Carrel.
Bitter Fruit.	By Mrs.Lovett Cameron.
The Three Days' Terror.	ByJ. S. Fletcher.

The Sin of Hagar.	ByHelen Mathers.
The Lovely Mrs. Pemberton.	ByFlorence Warden.
An Ill Wind.	By Mrs.Lovett Cameron.
Woman—The Sphinx.	ByFergus Hume.
A Beautiful Rebel.	ByErnest Glanville.
The Juggler and the Soul.	ByHelen Mathers.

Movatterモバイル変換

The Project Gutenberg eBook ofThe World Masters

THE WORLD MASTERS

THE WORLD MASTERS

BY

GEORGE GRIFFITH

AUTHOR OF
"The Angel of the Revolution," "Brothers of the Chain,"
"The Justice of Revenge," "A Honeymoon in Space,"
"Captain Johnnie,"etc. etc.

London
John Long
13 and 14 Norris Street, Haymarket
1903
[All Rights Reserved]

THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE

	PAGE
Ada Vernham,	14
African Treasure, An,	10
All the Winners,	6, 19
All They Went Through,	14
Angel of Chance, The,	13
Anna Lombard,	11
Appearances, How to Keep Them Up,	23
Arcadians, The,	3, 12
As Cæsar's Wife,	13
Australia at the Front,	21
Avenging of Ruthanna, The,	10

Barbara West,	13
Bâton Sinister, The,	6, 13
Beautiful Rebel, A,	13, 28
Beneath the Veil,	4, 14
Bettina,	9
Bishop's Secret, The,	17, 27
Bitter Fruit,	9, 27
Blue Bonnets Up,	14
Boer in Peace and War,	24
Boer Ride, The,	26
Boffin's Find,	13
Bohemian Girls, The,	27
Bread of Tears, The,	12
Burden of Her Youth, The,	6, 16
By Jumna's Banks,	18
By Thames and Tiber,	3, 13

Cabinet Secret, A,	11, 27
Car of Phœbus, The,	4, 15
Castle Oriol,	16
Charming Miss Kyrle, The,	12
Cicely Vaughan,	15
Confessions of a Court Milliner,	16
Consumptive, Care of a,	7, 25
Corner in Ballybeg, A,	18
Court of Destiny, The,	13
Courtship of Sarah, The,	10
Craze of Christina, The,	9, 27
Crime in the Wood, The,	17
Crimson Cryptogram, The,	17, 27
Crimson Lilies,	2, 9
Crowning of Gloria, The,	15
Curios,	14, 27
Curse of Eden, The,	13

Dame of the Fine Green Kirtle, The,	19
Daughter of England, A,	9
Dead Certainties,	19
Demon of the Wind, The,	26
Desired Haven, The,	18
Diamond of Evil, The,	13
Didums,	18
Difficult Matter, A,	9, 18, 27
Diva, The,	13
Dramatic Criticism,	24
Dream of Fame, A,	18
Dwellers by the River,	13

Etiquette and Entertaining,	25
Experiment of Dr. Nevill, The,	15
Eye of Istar, The,	27

Father Anthony,	15, 18, 27
Fair Fraud, A,	9
Fair Rosalind,	14
Fighter in Khaki, A,	18
Fooling of Don Jaime, The,	16
For a God Dishonoured,	15
Forbidden Paths,	17
Frank Redland, Recruit,	10
Friendship and Folly,	14
From the Land of the Wombat,	17
Fugitive Anne,	2, 13
Future of Phyllis, The,	14

George and Son,	16
Girl with Feet of Clay, The,	15
Glimpses from Wonderland,	14
Golden Spur, The,	12
Golden Wang-Ho, The,	10
Green Turbans, The,	10

Happiness: Its Pursuit and Attainment,	23
Harvesters, The,	2
Heretic, The,	15
His Little Bill of Sale,	19
His Master Purpose,	5, 15
His 'Prentice Hand,	15
History of the Temple,	24
Hospital Secret, The,	16
House of Commons, The,	22
House of Hardale, The,	15
Houses of Ignorance,	11

I'd Crowns Resign,	10
Ill Wind, An,	9, 28
Indiscretion of Gladys, The,	5, 12
Infelix,	18
In Heaven's Porch,	24
In Summer Shade,	16
In the Blood,	11
In the Dark,	11
In the Days of Goldsmith,	5, 15
In the Shadow of the Purple,	13
Investigators, The,	12
Irish Holidays,	13
Island Interlude, An,	18
Italian Wife, His,	12
Ivory Bride, The,	14

Jade Eye, The,	4, 10
Jean Keir of Craigneil,	10
Juggler and the Soul, The,	19, 28
Juggling Fortune,	17

Kingdom of Mammon, The,	16
King's Race-Horses, The,	8, 22
Kinsah,	9
Kitty's Engagement,	27

Last Foray, The,	4, 16
Last of the Climbing Boys,	23
Letters to Dolly,	17
Life's Little Comedies,	26
Logan's Loyalty,	10
Lords of Life, The,	14
Love Affairs of a Curate, The,	17
Lovely Mrs. Pemberton, The,	11, 28
Love of a Former Life, The,	16
Luck of a Lowland Laddie, The,	9

Machinations of Janet, The,	4, 10
Magnetic Girl, The,	5, 14
Malice of Grace Wentworth, The,	14
Man of Iron, A,	16
Man of To-Day, A,	19, 27
Mary Bray, X Her Mark,	18
Master Sinner, The,	17
Men of Marlowe's,	14
Merciless Love,	15
Message of the Masters, The,	26
Midsummer Madness,	9
Mill of Silence, The,	13
Mission of Margaret, The,	14
Miss Nanse,	19
Miss Pauncefort's Peril,	14
Mistletoe Manor,	16
Mrs. Musgrave and Her Husband,	17, 27
Mystery of Dudley Horne, The,	27

Native Born,	11
Nightshade and Poppies,	26
Nobler than Revenge,	11
No. 3, The Square,	6, 11
No Vindication,	10

Once Too Often,	11
On Parole,	18
On the War Path,	21
Operatic Problem, The,	24
Oswald Steele,	6
Other Mrs. Jacobs, The,	6, 13
Our Widow,	27
Outsider's Year, An,	2, 11

Papa Limited,	18
Parish Doctor, The,	3, 13
Partners Three,	6, 9
Passing Fancy, A,	9, 27
Paths of the Dead,	18
Paul Le Maistre,	1
Paul the Optimist,	15
Pick-Me-Ups,	19
Plato's Hand-Maiden,	12
Progress of Pauline Kessler, The,	11, 27
Purple of the Orient, The,	12
Pursued by the Law,	10

Real Christian, The,	12
Realization of Justus Moran,	11
Remembrance,	5, 9
Robert Orange,	27
Royal Sisters, The,	13
Rural Life,	22

Scarlet Seal, The,	15
Sea of Love, The,	19
Second Lieutenant Celia,	19
Sent to Coventry,	11
Shadow of Allah, The,	14
Shutters of Silence, The,	3, 12
Side Lights on Convict Life,	7, 25
Silent House of Pimlico, The,	17, 27
Sin of Hagar, The,	16, 28
Sin of Jasper Standish, The,	27
Social Life in the British Army,	20
Social Pretender, A,	14
Something in the City,	11
Son of Mammon, A,	12
Sport of Circumstance, The,	17
Story of a Campaign Estate,	13
Story of Lois, The,	15
Straight Shoes,	13
Strength of Straw, The,	11
Sweet "Doll" of Haddon Hall,	5, 14

Thraldom,	4, 16
Three Days' Terror, The,	12, 27
Through the Mists,	15
Traitor in London, A,	10, 27
Transplanted,	18
Trewinnot of Guy's,	10, 18
Trust Trappers, The,	6, 16
Turnpike House, The,	10

Unconquerable Colony, The,	25
Unwise Virgin, An,	3, 10
Up To-morrow,	6, 18

Veiled Man, The,	27
Veronica Verdant,	12
Virgin Gold,	11

Ward of the King, A,	15
Way Out, The,	12
Weaver of Runes, A,	16
When Love is Kind,	16
When the Mopoke Calls,	17
Wicked Rosamond,	12
Wilful Woman, A,	12
Wise in His Generation,	15
With Bought Swords,	19
Woman-Derelict, A,	9
Woman in the City, A,	5, 15
Woman's Checkmate, A,	14
Woman's No, A,	9
Woman—the Sphinx,	10, 28
Women Must Weep,	10
Wooing of Monica, The,	7
World Masters, The,	3, 15
Wounded Pride,	16

Yolande the Parisienne,	12
Youth at the Prow,	19

Zealandia's Guerdon,	11

	PAGE
Amity, John,	18
Armstrong, Mrs. L. Heaton,	25

Bayliss, Helen,	5, 15
Beaman, Emeric Hulme,	15
Bedwell, Hugh,	26
Berkley, Eibbon,	16
Bindloss, Harold,	5, 15
Bodkin, M. McD., K.C.,	5, 15
Boothby, Guy,	11, 27
Buchanan, Robert,	15, 18, 27
Burgin, G. B.,	3, 12
Burrard, W. Dutton,	16

Cairnes, Capt. W. E.,	20
Cameron, Mrs. Lovett,	5, 7, 9, 18, 27, 28
Capes, Bernard,	13
Carrel, Frederic,	11, 27
Chatterton, G. G.,	13, 17
Cleeve, Lucas,	5, 12
Clement, Hugh,	24
Cobban, J. MacLaren,	10
Cocbrane, James Henry,	25
Compton, James,	16
Cook, Alec,	3, 13
Cooper, Edward H.,	16
Crommelin, May,	2, 9
Cross, Victoria,	11
Culley, J. D. Leather-, Mrs.,	21

Davenant, Philip,	15
Davidson, Campbell L.,	19
Delaire, Jean,	18
Dill, Bessie,	14
Dodge, Walter Phelps,	19
Donovan, Dick,	15
Dothie, W. P.,	15
Doyle, Mina,	18
Dudeney, Mrs. Henry,	14
Duntze, Lady,	18

Elson, George,	23
Esler, E. Rentoul,	19

Fletcher, J. S.,	3, 12, 27
Forster, R. H.,	4, 16
Fowler, Harry,	19

Galloway, William Johnson,	24
Garnett, William Terrel	16
Gearey, Caroline,	22
Gilbert, George,	6, 13
Gowing, Mrs. Aylmer,	3, 13
Glanville, Ernest,	13, 28
Graham, Winifred,	14
Grein, J. T.,	24
Griffith, George,	3, 7, 15, 25
Groot, J. Morgan de,	16
Gubbins, Nathaniel,	6, 19

Halcombe, C. J. H.,	16
Hannan, Charles,	16
Heppenstall, R. H.,	14
Hinkson, H. A.,	16
Hobbes, John Oliver,	27
Howard, Isabel,	16
Howard, Keble,	17
Hume, Fergus,	4, 7, 10, 17, 27, 28

Ingold, John,	14

Jackson, G. Hunt,	26

Kelly, W. J., The Revd.,	23
Kernahan, Mrs. Coulson,	3, 10

Lees, Robert James,	4, 15
Lewis, G. Pitt, K.C.,	24
Lewis, Helen Prothero,	4, 16

MacLeod, Torquil,	19
Macpherson, Jean,	18
MacQuoid, Katherine S.,	15
Mann, Mary E.,	16
Markham, Paul,	18
Marsh, Richard,	5, 14, 17, 27
Martin, Mrs. Charles,	14
Mathers, Helen,	7, 16, 19, 27, 28
Mathew, Frank,	13
Meade, L. T.,	6, 16, 27
Moore, Dugald,	26
Muddock, J. E.,	5, 14
Murphy, Nicholas P.,	18

Nisbet, Hume,	6, 16, 18

O'Donnell, F. Hugh,	26

Perkins, Rose,	15
Phelps, Sydney,	15
Pinkerton, Thomas,	14
Platts, W. Carter,	6, 18
Pool, Maria Louise,	14
Praed, Mrs. Campbell,	2, 6, 13
Praga, Mrs. Alfred,	23

Queux, William Le,	27

Reardon, Richard,	15
Reay, Marcus,	17
Rita,	27
Roberts, Morley,	14
Robinson, F. W.,	14
Rodd, Ralph,	18

Sandeman, Mina,	12
Sergeant, Adeline,	4, 14
Short, Frank,	26
Snowden, Keighley,	13
Speight, T. W.,	17
Spencer, Edward,	8, 22
Stuart, Esmè,	11

Tayler, Jenner,	18
Temple, Sir Richard, Bart.,	22
Thomas, Annie (Mrs. Pender Cudlip),	13
Thynne, Robert,	13
Turner, Edgar,	15
Tweedale, Violet,	16
Tytler, Sarah,	4, 10, 19

Walker, William S. ("Coo-ee"),	11, 17
Warden, Florence,	2, 6, 7, 11, 27, 28
Whishaw, Fred,	6, 11
Wilkinson, Frank,	21
Williams, Mrs. M. Forrest,	7, 25

Movatterモバイル変換

The Project Gutenberg eBook ofThe World Masters

THE WORLD MASTERS

THE WORLD MASTERS

BY

GEORGE GRIFFITH

AUTHOR OF"The Angel of the Revolution," "Brothers of the Chain,""The Justice of Revenge," "A Honeymoon in Space,""Captain Johnnie,"etc. etc.

LondonJohn Long13 and 14 Norris Street, Haymarket1903[All Rights Reserved]

THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE

AUTHOR OF
"The Angel of the Revolution," "Brothers of the Chain,"
"The Justice of Revenge," "A Honeymoon in Space,"
"Captain Johnnie,"etc. etc.

London
John Long
13 and 14 Norris Street, Haymarket
1903
[All Rights Reserved]