ood a man, framed by the doorway, staring unseeingly
into the darkened room. His face was haggard and white as death; his
mouth agape as if from exertion, and the lips bloodless; his eyes were
widely distended as if from fright--clothing disarranged, collar
unfastened and dangling.

"The ambassador!" Miss Thorne whispered thrillingly.

XIV

A RESCUE AND AN ESCAPE

Miss Thorne's voice startled Mr. Grimm a little, but he had no doubts.
It was Monsieur Boissegur. Mr. Grimm was going toward the enframed
figure when, without any apparent reason, the ambassador turned and ran
along the hall; and at that instant the lights went out again. For one
moment Grimm stood still, dazed and blinded by the sudden blackness, and
again he started toward the door. Miss Thorne was beside him.

"The lights!" he whispered tensely. "Find the switch!"

He heard the rustle of her skirts as she moved away, and stepped out
into the hall, feeling with both his hands along the wall. A few feet
away, in the direction the ambassador had gone, there seemed to be a
violent struggle in progress--there was the scuffling of feet, and
quick-drawn breaths as muscle strained against muscle. The lights! If he
could only find the switch! Then, as his hands moved along the wall,
they came in contact with another hand--a hand pressed firmly against
the plastering, barring his progress. A light blow in the face caused
him to step back quickly.

The scuffling sound suddenly resolved itself into moving footsteps, and
the front door opened and closed with a bang. Mr. Grimm's listless eyes
snapped, and his white teeth came together sharply as he started toward
the front door. But fate seemed to be against him still. He stumbled
over a chair, and his own impetus forward sent him sprawling; his head
struck the wall with a resounding whack; and then, over the house, came
utter silence. From outside he heard the clatter of a cab. Finally that
died away in the distance.

"Miss Thorne?" he inquired quietly.

"I'm here," she answered in a despairing voice. "But I can't find the
switch."

"Are you hurt?"

"No."

And then she found the switch; the lights flared up. Mr. Grimm was
sitting thoughtfully on the floor.

"That simplifies the matter considerably," he observed complacently, as
he rose. "The men who signaled to me when you entered the embassy will
never let that cab get out of their sight."

Miss Thorne stood leaning forward a little, eagerly