days, when
all is quiet, to go on board the steam-yacht which brought him over."

Mrs. Carey said nothing more for nearly a minute.

"Where is that yacht now?" she asked at length.

"In London;" and the old banker dovetailed his fingers and stood with a
smile as if ready for all questions.

"And for my services--my assistance in this game of yours--"

"Pardon me," interrupted Bugbee, sententiously, "it is not a game of
mine. It is my plan to save the King from certain destruction."

"Well, whatever it is," said Mrs. Oswald Carey, impatiently, "for my
part of it I shall have--what?"

"Ten thousand pounds," answered old Bugbee, dropping the words slowly.

"When?"

"When the King is safe--when he is gone. In two days' time."

"That will not do!" and there was a ring of purpose in the Beauty's
voice that made the old banker's heart beat quicker, and made him keenly
attentive. She repeated: "That will not do! He may not go to America, or
he may not remain here. He may be captured, or he may be killed. He may
go to Aldershot to-morrow, despite all your plans. You know he intends
to go. But I--I shall have risked everything, whether you win or lose,
and at your bidding. Oh, no, my dear Mr. Bugbee, it will not do at all."

"What do you want, then?" asked the old man.

"I want the money now, and I want just double the sum you have named."

"You cannot have--"

"Then I shall go home;" and Mrs. Carey rose and began to arrange her
cloak, but keeping her eyes on old Bugbee's face. Both were playing for
the same stake, though only one knew it. Mrs. Carey read the old
banker's purpose, but Bugbee had no idea that she had any outlook beyond
the purchase money--twenty instead of ten thousand pounds. He was
secretly not displeased at the demand, which seemed an indication of her
sincerity.

"You shall have the money," he said, having pretended to consider. "I
shall write a check now."

"I want the money; I do not want a check." And she remained standing.

Old Bugbee smiled as he went out. In a few minutes he returned, and
finding her still prepared to go, took the cloak from her, and placed in
her hand twenty crisp Bank of England notes.

The entrance of the tall flunkey prevented Mrs. Carey from speaking her
pleasure, but she looked it at the banker.

"You are wanted, sir," said the erect flunkey.

Old Bugbee hurriedly left the room, and as soon as the door had closed,
Mrs. Oswald Carey ran to a large mirror, whe