It was a scene the like of which, it is safe to say, had never before been seen among all the strange scenes which had been enacted along the shores of that most lovely lake. A strange scene, and a strange company.

The faces of some thirty delegates, interrupted in their meal, were turned, with varying expressions, upon the new-comers. Lord John Lester sprang to his feet, with an impatient cry of “At last!” which was, however, drowned by the ecstatic croon of Mademoiselle the delegate for Roumania, “Ah! mon Dieu! Nous sommes sauvÉs! Un jour de plus, et nous serions deportÉes,” and a loud cry from Miss Gina Longfellow, who sprang from her seat at the other end of the table.

“Dio mio! We sure are copped!”

“Arrest the lady also, as an accomplice,” remarked Signor Cristofero quietly.

Dr. Franchi suddenly began to struggle violently, thus engaging the attention of the police. As suddenly, he ceased to struggle, and said calmly, “Ebbene. E scappata,” and it was apparent that Miss Longfellow had vanished.

“You will not find her now,” said her uncle. “She knows where to hide. Besides, what has she done, the innocent?”

“The passages are guarded,” Signor Cristofero remarked.

“Not, I think, my dear Angelo,” said Dr. Franchi, looking at him for the first time, “the passage she will take.... So, Angelo, this is your work. I might have guessed. Gentlemen, my only and distinguished brother.”

With a bow he introduced Signor Cristofero to his guests.

The detective smiled grimly at him, and addressed him in the Italian of the Lombardy Alps.

“This point is mine, I think, Silvio. It is a long war between us, in which you often score, but this point is mine.”

“I grant it you, my dear Angelo, without rancour. Your abilities have always been so near the level of my own that I can take defeat at your hands without mortification. You will at least pay me the tribute of acknowledging the ingenuity and partial success of my scheme.”

“That tribute I always pay you, Silvio. But, as has occasionally happened before, your ingenuity broke down at one point. You yielded to a whimsical impulse, and sent to the officials of the League a certain telegram couched in the words of the English version of a Hebrew psalm. When I heard this, I, remembering your addiction to the English translation of the psalms, identified you at once.... But this is no time for conversation. Later, a statement will be demanded of you. At present my business is to deliver you over to the law, and to give these gentlemen their liberty.”

“You will find no difficulty in either, my dear brother.... This, then, gentlemen and ladies, is good-bye. I must apologise for any inconvenience that may have been caused by your detention, either to yourselves or to the society which you represent, and I must thank you for the great pleasure you have afforded me by your company. I think that, at least, you will be able to report that you have suffered no great discomforts while my guests.”

“We have been most excellently entertained,” Lord Burnley replied, and a murmur of assent ran round the table.

The Albanian Bishop rose to his feet, lifting his glass.

“Your health, sir,” he said, and the other delegates drank the toast. (All except Lord John Lester, who impatiently muttered “Pshaw!”)

“Indeed,” said Mlle. Binesco, “Dr. Franchi has been more than kind. Another few days, and we might have fallen into the hands of the iniquitous traffickers behind him and been deported overseas—but he personally has been most good to us. All we could want....”

Fergus Macdermott had pushed to the front of the interested onlookers.

“I'd like to ask you one question, sir. Why didn't your people finish the job they began on myself—if it was your people, and not, as I suspect, some Sinn Fein scoundrels?”

The ex-cardinal gave his kindly smile.

“It was certainly my people, Mr. Macdermott. But, in attacking you, they made a mistake. When they perceived who you were, they desisted. They had, you see, orders not to remove certain delegates, of whom you and your colleague from South Ireland were two, from the scene. It was considered that the Irish delegates would serve the cause I have the honour to represent better by their presence at the Assembly than by their absence from it.”

“Enough talk,” Signor Cristofero put in. “It is time we went.”

“Brief and to the point as ever, dear brother. Good-bye, then, gentlemen and ladies. I regret, Lord Burnley, not to have had time in which to finish the interesting conversation we began last night on the subject of my present book. It will have to keep for happier days. Meanwhile, I hope to have a quiet little time in which to meditate on and complete the book.”

As he passed Henry Beechtree on his way to the door, he stopped.

“Ah, my dear young man. Luck did not favour our little plan, did it?”

“That person,” said the disagreeable voice of Charles Wilbraham, “is, if I may be allowed to mention it, a young woman, Dr. Franchi.”

The ex-cardinal turned to him a cold face.

“I have known that, Mr. Wilbraham, a good deal longer than you have.” He smiled sweetly at Henry.

“Yes, my young friend. There was an incident, you may recollect, of a goldfish.... I have several—er—nephews and nieces—and have watched them grow up. Never yet have I seen the boys disturbed by such episodes. Masculine nerves are, as a rule, more robust. You should remember this in future.... You will pardon my having noticed the incident. I would never have referred to it had not the subject been raised. Some day you shall dine with me again, if you will.... But my good brother grows impatient. Good-bye again, my friends. A rivederci.”

He was led away. He would be taken to Geneva in a police launch, with the detective, the police, and the arrested servants. The delegates and press were to follow in the steamer.

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