"And if we seek the Department of State?"
"It will be the word of the minister from a friendly power against
yours--and they will not find the lady."
"You would not--"
"They will not find the lady."
"Then," Mark spoke fiercely. "You have not kept your word."
"We have. She is safe, and shall be safe. Patience, if you please,
and all will be well."
"It looks," said Father Murray, "as though we had no other choice."
Mark glanced at the priest, astonished that he should acquiesce so
easily, but Father Murray gave him a quick, meaning look.
"That, Reverend Sir," answered the secretary, "is true. Since you see
it so, I will bid you good day--to meet you again, shortly."
Scarcely had the secretary left the room when Father Murray was at the
telephone calling Saunders.
"Come down," he directed, "at once."
Saunders was with them before either Mark or the priest spoke again.
"Well?" Saunders lost no time.
Father Murray gave him an outline of what had passed. Mark said
nothing. A picture of despair, he was sitting with his head bowed upon
his breast.
"And now, Mr. Saunders," said Father Murray, "it is your business to
counsel--to be a real detective. What do you suggest?"
"She is at the Ministry," said Saunders. "Let that be my first
statement. She is occupying a room which opens on a balcony of the
second floor. There is a guard in the next room, which also opens on
the same balcony. She is well watched. But I was in front of that
house three hours last night, and again this morning--rather, I was in
the house across the way. I had a good chance to communicate the news
of your arrival to her--"
"What!" Mark was on his feet now.
"It was simple. I did it this morning with a hand mirror. You
remember how bright the sun was about nine o'clock? Well, it was
shining right into the room where I was, and when I saw that she was
probably alone I caught the light on my little mirror and flashed the
reflection into her room. I juggled it about as oddly as I could,
flashing it across the book she was reading. Then I tried to make it
write a word on her wall. Perhaps you would like to know the word,
Baron?" He turned to Mark with a smile. "You would? Well, I tried to
write 'M-A-R-K.' I think she understood, for she turned toward the
window and seemed about to give me some signal. Then she raised her
hand in a quick motion of alarm and began reading again. I withdrew
the ligh
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