THE doctor arrived at eight. He could not afford to disregard the summons of such a man as Davenport Carstairs. So he told his wife to go on to the Opera without him; he would join her as soon as possible,—in fact, it might be possible to get there before the overture was ended, or, at the very latest, soon after the curtain went up. Make his apologies, and all that. This was an urgent case.

Close on his heels came two men to see Mr. Carstairs....

Miss Hansbury was in a pitiable condition. For the better part of two hours, Frieda Carstairs had been with her. Every one else, not excepting her uncle, was denied admission to the room. From time to time, the sound of voices came through the closed door,—one shrill and rising to the pitch of frenzy, the other firm, gentle, soothing—one that seemed to croon. A sharp-eared listener outside would have caught an occasional sentence wailed in the despairing treble, but he would have made little of it, for it dwindled away into a smothered, inarticulate jumble of words. He might have distinguished the oft-repeated cry: “You know it isn't true! You know it! You know it!”

Carstairs grasped the doctor's arm the instant he entered the apartment.

“For God's sake, Doctor, give her something to quiet her immediately. I—I cannot endure it. We should have waited. I had no idea it would be like this. Mrs. Carstairs hasn't left her for an instant. I can hear her moaning and—”

“Is it this—ah—news about young Steele?” inquired the doctor blandly. He rubbed his hands.

“Yes—yes! We thought it best to tell her before she got it from the servants, or the papers, or—”

“Dreadful affair,—most shocking. I knew him very slightly, but he seemed a most delightful chap. By Jove, it is really distressing, the way the Germans have undermined our very—”

“She is in a most deplorable condition, Doctor. Don't delay an instant, please,—and do not leave her until you are convinced there is no danger of—” He broke off abruptly.

“Ahem! Yes, yes,—ah,—I'll remain as long as—ah,—I feel the least bit uneasy about her.”

“All right, Doctor,—if there is the remotest danger of—”

“Oh, I fancy there isn't any real danger of that, Mr. Carstairs. Compose yourself. We 'll have her sleeping like a baby in no time at all. Had you an inkling that Steele was that sort of a—”

“And will you please send Mrs. Carstairs out of the room at once?”

“Yes, yes,—immediately. Leave it to me, leave it to me,” and off he went, with a sprightliness that would have, surprised his dignity if he had had the slightest notion at that moment that he still possessed such a thing.

But Mrs. Carstairs refused to be sent out of the room. She remained steadfast at the girl's side, holding and stroking her hand.

“I cannot,—I will not leave her, Doctor Browne,” she said, compressing her lips.

The butler apologetically stuck his head into Mr. Carstairs' study a few minutes after the doctor's arrival.

“Sorry, sir, but there's two gentlemen asking to see you.”

“I told you I was not at home to any one, Hollowell. Is it necessary for me to repeat your instructions?”

“No, sir,—thank you, sir. But these gentlemen say they must see you, sir. They are outside, sir,—in the hall. I asked—”

“Who are they? What is their business?”

“I asked both those questions, sir,” said the butler, in evident distress.

“Yes, yes,—well, and what did they say?”

“They simply said 'Never mind,'” said Hollowell, with a great deal of feeling.

Carstairs stopped suddenly in his tracks.

“I thought you said they were gentlemen.”

His brow darkened. He had sensed the truth. Secret service men.

“My mistake, sir,—my mistake,” mumbled Hollowell. “Ahem! I can only add, Mr. Carstairs, that they seem to think you are at home, and—ah—”

“Conduct them to this room,” said Carstairs. A few minutes later: “Come in, gentlemen, and be seated. I suppose you are here to ascertain if I can throw any light on the Derrol Steele affair. It is no secret, of course, that he was my niece's fiance, and that he was a constant visitor here. I am afraid, however, that I can be of no assistance to you. Captain Steele—”

“Pardon me, Mr. Carstairs,” said one of his visitors, a sharp-eyed, clean-cut man of forty, “but, as a matter of fact, our business here is really with Mrs. Carstairs. Will you be good enough to ask her to step into this room?”

His companion had closed the door, and both remained standing.

“I assure you she knows as little as I do about this distressing affair. My niece is very ill. She cannot leave her. You must allow me,—for the present, at least,—to speak for Mrs. Carstairs.”

“Deeply as I regret it, Mr. Carstairs, I must insist that your wife—”

“You heard what I said, didn't you?” demanded Carstairs coldly. Two vivid red blotches shot into his cheeks.

The two men looked at each other. Then the spokesman gave a significant jerk of his head. His companion opened the door and stepped quickly into the hall. As the door closed, the one who remained drew nearer to Carstairs.

“In the first place, Mr. Carstairs, you cannot speak for your wife. I am not here to make inquiries, sir, but to escort her to the offices of the United States Attorney, who will—”

Carstairs started up from his chair. “What infernal nonsense is this?”

“I am afraid it isn't nonsense,” said the other quietly. “My instructions,—my orders, I may say,—are to confront Mrs. Carstairs with certain charges, in your presence, by the way,—and to remain in this apartment until further orders. There is no alternative.”

“Charges?” gasped Davenport Carstairs, incredulously. “What do you mean? What charges have been brought against us?”

“There is nothing against you, sir. I am instructed to exercise the greatest consideration for you. A great deal, I may add, is left to my discretion, after all. Your wife, I am compelled to inform you, is charged with a very serious offence. In plain words, we have indisputable proof that she is and has been for several years in direct communication with the German Government through—”

“It is a damned, outrageous lie!” shouted Carstairs, furiously. “How dare you come here—”

“Just a moment, please,” interrupted the other sharply. “My instructions are to treat you with the utmost respect and consideration. I must ask you to accord me the same treatment. Will you send for your wife, or must I resort to the authority that—”

“For God's sake, man,—wait! Let me get this thing through my head. I—I—-will try to control myself. There has been some terrible mistake. Let us discuss the matter calmly. I can explain everything. We must spare her the mortification, the humiliation of being—Why, my dear sir, it would—kill her. She would not survive the—”

The agent held up his hand. “There is no mistake. It may be possible to spare her the disgrace, the ignominy of public exposure. That, sir, rests with her—and with you. We recognize your position, Mr. Carstairs. There is a disposition on the part of the authorities to protect you. With that object in view, I am instructed to grant Mrs. Carstairs the privilege of remaining in her own room until tomorrow morning. We are to take no definite action tonight, unless, of course, you and she decide that it is best for her to accompany me to the—er—to headquarters. It is up to you and Mrs. Carstairs, sir.”

Davenport Carstairs was a strong, virile character. He possessed the arrogance born of power and a confidence in himself that had never been shaken. His home was his stronghold, his wife its treasure. In his serene strength he could not conceive of discredit falling upon either. Instead of faltering, now that the first shock had been weathered, he drew himself up and faced the situation with a courage that excited the wonder and admiration of the man who came with evil tidings.

“Be seated,” said he, indicating a chair. The man sat down. “You may be partially if not entirely ignorant of the nature of these charges. Am I right in assuming that you are not at liberty to discuss them with me?”

“On the contrary, Mr. Carstairs, I have been advised to do nothing until I have talked the matter over with you. I am in possession of all the facts.”

“Is the department content to allow me to pass judgment on my wife?” inquired Carstairs, with a touch of irony. He maintained a calm exterior,—at what cost no one but he will ever know. The secret service man made no response. “In any case, I shall have to ask you to explain everything to me before permitting you to approach my wife.”

The agent, who shall be called Jones, nodded his head, and then leaned forward in his chair.

“A man named Hodges was in your employ as a butler up to a fortnight ago. He had worked for you exactly seven weeks and one day. Do you know where he came from and who he really was, Mr. Carstairs?”

“No. Mrs. Carstairs engages the servants here. Are you going to tell me that he was a German spy?”

“Far from it, sir. 'He was a British secret service agent. His name was Bridgeford. He was killed by an automobile, but not accidentally as you have been led to believe. We have been looking for the driver of that car for two weeks. Last night we got him. He has confessed. Since six o'clock this evening three other men have been arrested,—all subordinate figures in the game. Before morning we expect to land at least one or two of the principal members of the shrewdest gang of spies operating in the name and interest of the Kaiser.”

“Including my wife,” said Carstairs, lifting his eyebrows.

Jones allowed the remark to pass without comment.

“Bridgeford,—or Hodges, as you knew him,—was sent to this city from London. For a long time he worked independently. A few days before his death, we received instructions from Washington to get in touch with him. That was the first we knew of him, I'll confess. The British Foreign Office advised our department that he had finally got hold of something big and tangible. But evidently the German Foreign Office also was wise to him. He reported to us on the afternoon of the day he was killed. He said that the time was not yet ripe to take positive steps, but that he would soon have the goods on four or five prominent people. He gave us the names of these people. Two of them he was sure about, the others were in doubt. Believe me, they were prominent. We were to hold off till he said the word. That night he was killed. But they didn't do it soon enough. We had all his data, incomplete as it was, and we've followed it up. That's why I am here this evening.”

He paused; and Carstairs said, harshly: “Well, go on,—why do you hesitate?”

“We know now, beyond all possible doubt, that information of the most vital character has reached the German Admiralty and the Foreign Office through Mrs. Carstairs,” said Jones deliberately.

“I may be pardoned if I repeat that it is a damned lie,” said Carstairs, gripping the arms of his chair.

“You have said just what you were expected to say, Mr. Carstairs. Before I have finished, however, you will realize that it is not a damned lie. I am authorized to exhibit certain memoranda from the Department. You will then agree with us that the information came from this house,—from this apartment, in fact.”

“In the light of what happened last night, I may go so far as to concede that such may have been the case. Permit me to remind you of the suicide of Captain—”

He broke off abruptly, struck by the expression in the other's face. Jones shook his head slowly. There was genuine distress in his voice when he spoke.

“Captain Steele was murdered, Mr. Carstairs,” he said. “He did not kill himself.” Carstairs sprang to his feet. For an instant a flash of joy transfigured his face.