It was getting late by this time. Gradually the guests were thinning and the splendid rooms were taking on a deserted appearance. Jessie sat in one of the corridors hidden away behind a bank of palms and azaleas, and longed for the time when she could rest. From head to foot she was aching with fatigue. She had not been used to excitement lately; the close atmosphere of the Bond Street establishment and the want of regular exercise in the pure air had told upon her. Now that the excitement had passed away she realized how tired she was.

She laid her head back against the wall and closed her eyes. So utterly exhausted was she that she did not seem to care what happened. And there would be much to be done in the morning. If only Vera Galloway could be restored to her proper place, Jessie vowed that nothing should prevail upon her to carry on the adventure. She slept just for a moment. She might have stayed there till daylight, only Ronald Hope came along and found her.

At the sound of a human voice Jessie became quite alert and vigorous again.

"How you startled me," she said. "I was asleep. Is there anything fresh, any new complication?"

Ronald dropped into the seat by Jessie's side. He was looking just a little grave and stern. It was possible to detain Jessie there for some little time.

"There is nothing fresh," he said. "I have a few words to say to you, Jessie. Everybody is going, and only a few of Lady Merehaven's intimate friends remain."

"If you are one of them you will not be expected to leave just yet," Jessie smiled. "But why look so serious, Ronald? Have I done anything?"

"Upon my word, I don't know," Ronald said in some perplexity. "I don't like it, Jess. If you look at it from a proper point of view you have no business to be here at all. Lady Merehaven is a dear friend of mine. What would she say if she knew everything? As a matter of fact, she is bound to know everything sooner or later."

"But you can't blame me," Jessie protested. "Look at my position. I was quite desperate. I had been dismissed from Bond Street for no fault of my own; I had a sister practically depending upon me; it was useless in the circumstances to try and find employment elsewhere. I was face to face with something very like starvation, my dear Ronald."

Ronald's face softened, but the perplexed frown on his face was still there.

"Oh, I know it," he said eagerly. "I see your position entirely. At the same time, it is quite wrong. I am looking at the social side of the question. And the worst of the affair is that you must go on now till Vera Galloway comes back. I have been trying to find some way to achieve that without delay. If it can be managed, you must promise never to change your identity again."

Something like tears rose into Jessie's eyes. The dull, tired feeling was coming over her again.

"Don't blame me, dear," she whispered. "Think of my position. I had not met you this afternoon; I did not dream that you still cared for me. And yet I fancy that I would have done the same in any case. A good and noble girl comes to me in great trouble; she asks me to help her out of a grave difficulty to save one she loves. To help her I do this. And she has more or less succeeded. Between the two of us we have gone far to save a nation. Tell Lady Merehaven if you like, but do not spoil everything in the moment of victory."

"I don't want to," Ronald said. "It would be ridiculous to speak just yet. But any moment some unexpected accident may find you out. It may come before bedtime. And what would happen to you then? I am very jealous for the good name of my future wife. Dr. Varney——"

"Dr. Varney is standing by me nobly, and he will see that I am safe," Jessie said. "Dear old boy, don't be afraid. Trust me a little longer, and I am quite sure——"

"My darling, I trust you implicitly," Ronald exclaimed. He bent forward and kissed Jessie's trembling lips. "Only I am so miserably anxious, so fearful lest—— But somebody is coming."

Somebody came down the corridor, pushing the azaleas carelessly aside from time to time. The newcomer was evidently looking for somebody. Then the grey face of Lechmere appeared, white and excited as Ronald had never seen him before. He paused before the others.

"Miss—er—Galloway, I have been looking for you everywhere," he said. "It is of the utmost importance that——"

"Oh, dear!" said Jessie with a little broken laugh. "Please don't tell me that I have to do anything else to-night. I am utterly worn out. If I could go straight to bed——"

"So you may as far as I am concerned," Lechmere said curtly. "I beg your pardon, but I fancy I have made a discovery of importance. That man whom you took to be the King of Asturia—I mean the man you saw in the Countess Saens's dining-room. What became of him?"

"Really, I cannot tell you," Jessie said. "Let me think. I fancy Mr. Maxwell said something about him. Yes, that was it. He said that the man you mention drove to the office of the Mercury. Mr. Maxwell would have followed him, only he could not spare the time."

Lechmere nodded as if pleased about something, but the stern look was still on his face.

"I fancy that is all that I need bother you about at present," he said. "And I don't think that we shall need your services any more to-night, my dear young lady. If you can contrive to see Dr. Varney on your ride before breakfast in the morning, you will be doing everybody a service."

Lechmere darted away as hurriedly as he had come. Evidently he had work of importance before him.

"He has given me one useful piece of information," Jessie said as soon as Lechmere had gone. "If what he remarks is correct, Miss Galloway is in the habit of riding before breakfast. Well, I shall be able to fulfil that part of the programme, Ronald. It will be delightful to be on the back of a horse again, even in a borrowed habit, which I sincerely hope will fit me."

Ronald looked at the mass of chiffon and the quivering fall of drapery before him and smiled. The dress might have been made for the wearer, so perfectly did it seem to fit her.

"This is quite another matter," Jessie said. "One can do wonders with a little lace and a bow or two of chiffon. But a close-fitting riding habit is quite another thing. I dare say I shall manage. There is only one thing that really fills me with terror."

"I should like to know what that is," said Ronald.

"Why, Countess Saens. I am quite sure that she knows what has taken place—at least, she suspects, and will find out dual identity, or she would never have tried to gain admission to the hospital to-night. I am perfectly sure that she will make another attempt in the morning. She is clever and unscrupulous, and she is certain to get her own way. In the accident ward of a hospital there is always a case or two that needs identity, and there will be the chance of the countess. She professes to have missed somebody, and she will be able to walk through the accident ward. That is all she requires. And I am quite certain that she will do this thing in the course of the morning. Don't you agree with me?"

Ronald was fain to agree with what Jessie said. Perhaps some scheme for baffling the countess was already in the air, as Lechmere would not have suggested that early morning visit to Varney.

"I have been thinking the matter out," Jessie went on. "Why could not Miss Galloway be removed to a private ward? If Dr. Varney called at the hospital he could see the patient and drop a hint to that effect. You see what is uppermost in my mind, Ronald. A private ward affords chance of escape, also chance for me to take Miss Galloway's place and let her come home."

"You are a friend in need," Ronald said as he kissed the red lips again. "It was a lucky thing for Vera Galloway when she thought of you. But there are risks even in this scheme. Suppose the maid who was present when the robbery at the Countess Saens's took place comes forward and identifies you, what then? You will be charged with burglary, and perhaps convicted. The police will find out all about you—your name will figure largely in the newspapers."

Jessie hesitated a little before she replied. Her head fell forward, and she fell almost asleep on Ronald's arm. Nothing seemed to matter to her now; if only she could have a good night's rest.

"I don't seem to care," she murmured. "I don't fancy that the countess would go that far. It isn't as if she stood any chance of recovering the stolen papers. And she would have to give a description of the missing documents, which would not suit her book at all. On the whole, I am prepared to take any risk so that I can spare Vera Galloway further misery."

And Ronald had nothing further to say. It was good to know that he had the love of a girl like this. She should carry out her resolution, and he would maintain a loyal silence for the present.