“You!”

Her surprised interjection recalled to him for the first time the hour and the strangeness of his visit. Yet he attempted little in the way of excuse.

“I may stay five minutes,” he begged. “You are alone?”

“It is very late,” she murmured.

He pointed out of the great window at the far end of the room.

“Your brother is attending the King. If he should return—well, mine is no idle errand. I can justify my coming, even at this hour.”

Then she noticed that he was not dressed for the evening, that he was pale, and that there was trouble in his eyes. She led him into a smaller room, pushed open a window, and beckoned him to follow her down the worn grey steps into the gardens.

“This is my favourite corner,” she said. “Beyond are the flower gardens, and the air here at night is always sweet. You shall sit with me, my friend, and you shall tell me what it is that brings you with this look of trouble in your face.”

His eyes remained fixed upon her with a sudden passionate wistfulness. She was very sweet and gracious, and her slow speech seemed to him more musical than ever. So he sat by her side, and a little sea of white satin and lace and soft draperies covered up all the space between them, for it had been a State dinner at the palace, and he found speech very difficult.

“Now this is restful and very pleasant,” she said, after a long pause. “But you must tell me why you have come. It was not by chance—to see me? But no? You spoke also of my brother.”

Her eyes sought his—a spice of coquetry in their questioning gleam. But the cloud lingered upon his face.

“I would not have dared to come at such an hour,” he said, “if my visit were an ordinary one.”

“How very unenterprising,” she murmured. “I am sure that this is much the pleasantest time of the day.”

“Countess,” he said, slowly, “is Baron Domiloff a friend of yours?”

“Of mine? But no. Why do you ask such a question?”

“He has been banished from Theos. Did you know that he was hiding still in the city?”

She shook her head slowly.

“I know nothing,” she answered. “How strange that you should ask me.”

“Is it not true, then,” he continued, “that you and he and your brother are plotting against the King?”

She regarded him with uplifted eyebrows. Then she patted him gently on the arm with her fan.

“It is the moon, my friend,” she declared. “A little brief frenzy, is it not?”

His tone recovered confidence. He breathed a sigh of relief.

“The man lied to me,” he declared. “Now I will tell you just what has happened to me. You know that I have a room in the Theba Place. Well, to-night, as I was about to prepare for dinner, a messenger, a native Thetian he seemed to me, brought a note to my rooms. It was neither signed nor addressed. But it bade me follow the bearer without question if I would be of service to Theos.”

“You went?” she asked.

“Of course,” he answered, quickly. “If the summons was genuine, well and good—if it was false, I still wanted to know the meaning of it.”

“And which was it?” she asked.

“Genuine enough,” he answered, gravely. “I was led into a quarter of Theos where I have never been before, and which I am sure I could not find again. We arrived at a little cafÉ—I do not know the name—it was somewhere outside the walls. A man was waiting for me in a back room. He was disguised, but I recognized him at once. It was Domiloff!”

She started. Instinctively he felt that she was deeply interested.

“At first I thought that it was a trap—that Domiloff was preparing some revenge for my personation of the King. Soon, however, I learnt that his intention was a different one. He is concerned in a plot to dethrone the King, and he proposed that I should throw in my lot with his party.”

“Did he tell you, then, that Nicholas and I were concerned in it?”

“No. From his point of view your cooperation as yet was unnecessary. Yet the whole thing is concerned with you and your brother, for Domiloff has named him as the future ruler of Theos. He offered to give me positive evidence that Russia has decided to remove Ughtred from the throne, that Theos itself is in deadly peril.”

“There is one thing,” she said, “which I do not quite understand. Why did Domiloff send for you? You are not a soldier, nor are you well-known to the Thetians.”

“It is very simple,” he answered. “To-day the Press has an immense influence upon public opinion in England and all the Western countries. I am writing for my paper in England a series of articles upon Theos, and I am writing from a point of view friendly to Ughtred of Tyrnaus. Domiloff wants these articles stopped. He professes to need my active help. What he really desires is that I write no more, or alter the tone of my letters.”

Her satin slipper traced a mystic pattern upon the smooth green turf.

“These are two things,” she said, “which I do not understand. The Baron Domiloff has repute as a cunning and very shrewd diplomatist. Did he ask you for no pledge that you would not speak of these things to the King?”

Brand shook his head.

“It would have been useless,” he answered. “I think that he knew quite well that I should give no such pledge. That is what makes me believe that the matter is serious. He is so sure of coming events that failing my joining with him he expressed himself as indifferent as to what my course of action might be. There was only one condition he made before I left—and that one I agreed to.”

She looked at him inquiringly.

“It was that I should come to you—before I went to the King.”

Their eyes met. In that single luminous moment he learned that these things came at least as no surprise to her. He seemed even to divine something of that desire which had eaten its way into her heart.

“To me!” she murmured. “Well?”

“Countess,” he said, gravely, “for myself there is but one course of action possible. I came here as the friend of Ughtred of Tyrnaus. I am bound to his cause by every tie of honour, as well as my own sympathies. Before the morning I shall have told him all that I have told you.”

Her fan fluttered idly in her fingers. She remained silent, but he had a fancy that a shadow had fallen between them.

“Domiloff sent me to you,” he continued. “What does that mean?”

She shook her head.

“The ways of Baron Domiloff,” she said, “are not easy to understand.”

“Are you and your brother concerned in this—plot?” he asked, gravely.

“My brother,” she said, “would, I believe, shoot you if you asked him such a question. It is only a few months ago that he himself brought Ughtred of Tyrnaus here. Nicholas has too little ambition. He is a patriot, pure and simple.”

“And you—yourself?” he asked.

“I have had no dealings with Baron Domiloff,” she answered, “but I think that he knows my views. I do not love the family of Tyrnaus, and I do not think that Ughtred had any claim to the throne of Theos. His father and grandfather misgoverned the country, and estranged all the nobility, who were the backbone of the State. We alone are left, and if Ughtred should marry the daughter of this American tradesman we, too, must become exiles.”

“But you would not stoop,” he murmured, “to plot against the King?”

“It is not necessary,” she answered. “I believe that what you have been told is true. I believe that Russia will not tolerate Ughtred of Tyrnaus. My friend,” she added, in a softer tone, “why do you concern yourself in these things? Leave Domiloff alone, and, believe me, your warning to the King would be wasted. Stay here, and watch for the things which may happen. Do you remember what we talked about that night at the palace? The times are coming—wait, and your opportunity may also show itself. Who knows that your own future may not become linked with the future of Theos?”

She leaned over towards him, her hand fell upon his shoulder, and its touch, though light, was like a caress. Then Brand understood that this was temptation, for his whole being quivered with the delight of her softened tone, and the unspoken things which trembled there and shone from her eyes. In truth, she, too, was thinking of the moment when she had believed him to be the King.

“Dear lady,” he said, almost pleadingly, “I would be content to live all my days in Theos if——”

He hesitated. A wonderful smile curved her lips, and her eyes were full of invitation. Yet he hesitated.

“For a brave man,” she murmured, “you are very—very faint-hearted.”

Whereupon he took her into his arms, and kissed her.