His father and his grandfather before
him had been men honored and respected in this same circle. Disgrace
to him, such disgrace as that with which he had stood face to face a
few hours ago, would have been, in a certain sense, a reflection
upon their memories. The names upon the brass plates to right and
to left of him were the names of men he knew, men with whom he
desired to stand well, whose friendship or contempt made life worth
living or the reverse. It was worth a great risk--this effort of
his to keep his place. His one mistake--this association with
Morrison--had been such an unparalleled stroke of bad luck. He
was rid of the fellow now. For the future there should be no more
partners. He had his life to live. It was not reasonable that he
should allow himself to be dragged down into the mire by such a
creature. He found an empty taxicab at the corner of Queen Victoria
Street, and hailed it.

"Whitehall Court," he told the driver.

CHAPTER X

BELLAMY IS OUTWITTED

Bellamy was a man used to all hazards, whose supreme effort of life
it was to meet success and disaster with unvarying mien. But this
was disaster too appalling even for his self-control. He felt his
knees shake so that he caught at the edge of the table before which
he was standing. There was no possible doubt about it, he had been
tricked. Von Behrling, after all,--Von Behrling, whom he had
looked upon merely as a stupid, infatuated Austrian, ready to sell
his country for the sake of a woman, had fooled him utterly!

The man who sat at the head of the table--the only other occupant
of the room--was in Court dress, with many orders upon his coat.
He had just been attending a Court function, from which Bellamy's
message had summoned him. Before him on the table was an envelope,
hastily torn open, and several sheets of blank paper. It was upon
these that Bellamy's eyes were fixed with an expression of mingled
horror and amazement. The Cabinet Minister had already pushed them
away with a little gesture of contempt.

"Bellamy," he said gravely, "it is not like you to make so serious
an error.

"I hope not, sir," Bellamy answered. "I--yes, I have been deceived."

The Minister glanced at the clock.

"What is to be done?" he asked.

Bellamy, with an effort, pulled himself together. He caught up the
envelope, looked once more inside, held up the blank sheets of paper
to the lamp and laid them down. Then with clenched