“At last, David!”

Louise welcomed her visitor eagerly with outstretched hands, which Bellamy raised for a moment to his lips. Then she turned toward the third person, who had also risen at the opening of the door—a short, somewhat thick-set man, with swarthy complexion, close-cropped black hair, and upturned black moustache.

“You remember Prince Rosmaran?” she said to Bellamy. “He left Servia only the day before yesterday. He has come to England on a special mission to the King.”

Bellamy shook hands.

“I think,” he remarked, “I had the honor of meeting you once before, Prince, at the opening of the Servian Parliament two years ago. It was just then, I believe, that you were elected to lead the patriotic party.”

The Prince bowed sadly.

“My leadership, I fear,” he declared, “has brought little good to my unhappy country.”

“It is a terrible crisis through which your nation is passing,” Bellamy reminded him sympathetically. “At the same time, we must not despair. Austria holds out her clenched hands, but as yet she has not dared to strike.”

The face of the Prince was dark with passion.

“As yet, no!” he answered. “But how long—how long, I wonder—before the blow falls? We in Servia have been blamed for arming ourselves, but I tell you that to-day the Austrian troops are being secretly concentrated on the frontier. Their arsenals are working night and day. Her soldiers are manoeuvering almost within sight of Belgrade. We have hoped against hope, yet in our hearts we know that our fate was sealed when the Czar of Russia left Vienna last week.”

“Nothing is certain,” Bellamy declared restlessly. “England has been ill-governed for a great many years, but we are not yet a negligible Power.”

Louise leaned a little towards him.

“David,” she whispered, “the compact!”

He answered her unspoken question.

“It is arranged,” he said,—“finished. To-morrow morning at nine o’clock I receive it.”

“You are sure?” she begged. “Why need there be any delay?”

“It is locked up in a powerful safe,” he explained, “and the clerk who has the combination will not be on duty again till nine. Laverick is there simply waiting for the hour. You were right, Louise, as usual. I should have trusted him from the first.”

The Prince had been listening to their conversation with undisguised interest.

“There is a rumor,” he said, “that some secret information concerning the compact of Vienna has found its way to this country.”

Bellamy smiled.

“Hence, I presume, your mission, Prince.”

“We three have no secrets from one another,” the Prince declared. “Our interests in this matter are absolutely identical. What you suggest, Mr. Bellamy, is the truth. There is a rumor that the Chancellor, in the first few moments of his illness, gave valuable information to some one who is likely to have communicated it to the Government here. To be forewarned is to be forearmed. That, I know, is one of your own mottoes. So I am here to know if there is anything to be learned.”

Bellamy nodded.

“Your arrival is not inopportune, Prince. When did you come?”

“I reached Charing Cross at midnight,” the Prince answered. “Our train was an hour late. I am presenting my credentials early this morning, and I am hoping for an interview during the afternoon.”

Bellamy considered for a moment.

“It is true!” he said. “Between us three there is indeed no need for secrecy. The information you speak of will be in our hands within a few hours. I have no doubt whatever but that your Minister will share in it.”

“You know of what it consists?” the Prince inquired curiously.

“I think so,” Bellamy answered, glancing at the clock. “For my own part, although the information itself is invaluable, I see another and a profounder source of interest in that document. If, indeed, it is what we believe it to be, it amounts to a casus belli.”

“You mean that you would provoke war?” Prince Rosmaran asked.

Bellamy shrugged his shoulders.

“I,” said he,—“I am not even a politician. But, you know, the lookers-on see a good deal of the game, and in my opinion there is only one course open for this country,—to work upon Russia so that she withdraws from any compact she may have entered into with Austria and Germany, to accept Germany’s cooperation with Austria in the despoilment of your country as a casus belli, and to declare war at once while our fleet is invincible and our Colonies free from danger.”

The Prince nodded.

“It is good,” he admitted, “to hear man’s talk once more. Wherever one moves, people bow the head before the might of Germany and Austria. Let them alone but a little longer, and they will indeed rule Europe.”

Three o’clock struck. The Prince rose.

“I go,” he announced.

“And I,” Bellamy declared. “Come to my rooms at ten o’clock tomorrow morning, Prince, and you shall hear the news.”

Bellamy lingered behind. For a moment he held Louise in his arms and gazed sorrowfully into her weary face.

“Is it worth while, I wonder?” he asked bitterly.

“Worth while,” she answered, opening her eyes and looking at him, “to feel the mother love? Who can help it who would not be ignoble?”

“But yours, dear,” he murmured, “is all grief. Even now I am afraid.”

“We can do no more than toil to the end,” she said. “David, you are sure this time?”

“I am sure,” he replied. “I am going back now to the hotel where Laverick is staying. We are going to sit together and smoke until the morning. Nothing short of an army could storm the hotel. I was with them all only an hour ago,—Streuss, that blackguard Lassen, and Adolf Kahn, the police spy. They are beaten men and they know it. They had Laverick, had him by a trick, but I made a dramatic entrance and the game was up.”

“Telephone me directly you have taken it safely to Downing Street,” she begged.

“I will,” he promised.

Bellamy walked from Dover Street to the Strand. The streets were almost brilliant with the cold, hard moonlight. The air seemed curiously keen. Once or twice the fall of his feet upon the pavement was so clear and distinct that he fancied he was being followed and glanced sharply around. He reached the Milan Hotel, however, without adventure, and looked towards the little open space in the hall where he had expected to find Laverick. There was no one there! He stood still for a moment, troubled with a sudden sense of apprehension. The place was deserted except for a couple of sleepy-looking clerks and a small army of cleaners busy with their machines down in the restaurant, moving about like mysterious figures in the dim light.

Bellamy turned back to the hall-porter who had admitted him.

“Do you happen to know what has become of the gentleman whom I was with about an hour ago?” he asked,—“a tall, fair gentleman—Mr. Laverick his name was?”

The hall-porter recognized Bellamy and touched his hat.

“Why, yes, sir!” he answered with a somewhat mysterious air. “Mr. Laverick was sitting over there in an easy-chair until about half-an-hour ago. Then two gentle-men arrived in a taxicab and inquired for him. They talked for a little time, and finally Mr. Laverick went away with them.”

Bellamy was puzzled.

“Went away with them?” he repeated. “I don’t understand that, Reynolds. He was to have waited here till I returned.”

The man hesitated.

“It didn’t strike me, sir,” he said, “that Mr. Laverick was very wishful to go. It seemed as though he hadn’t much choice about the matter.”

Bellamy looked at him keenly.

“Tell me what is in your mind?” he asked.

“Mr. Bellamy, sir,” the hall-porter replied, “I knew one of those gentlemen by sight. He was a detective from Scotland Yard, and the one who was with him was a policeman in plain clothes.”

“Good God!” Bellamy exclaimed. “You think, then,—”

“I am afraid there was no doubt about it, sir,” the man answered. “Mr. Laverick was arrested on some charge.”