er all--"

"You can show the gentleman in, Annette," her mistress ordered.

"If he has the papers," Bellamy continued slowly, "why does he come
to us? It is not like these men to be vindictive. Diplomacy to
them is nothing--a game of chess. I do not understand."

The door opened. Annette announced their visitor. Streuss bowed
low to Louise--he bowed, also, to Bellamy.

"I need not introduce myself," he said. "With Mr. Bellamy I have
the honor to be well acquainted. Madame is known to all the world."

Louise nodded, somewhat coldly.

"We can dispense with an introduction, I think, Monsieur le Baron,"
she said. "At the same time, you will perhaps explain to what I
owe this somewhat unexpected pleasure?"

"Mademoiselle, an explanation there must certainly be. I know that
it is an impossible hour. I know, too, that to have forced my
presence upon you in this manner may seem discourteous. Yet the
urgency of the matter, I am convinced, justifies me."

Louise motioned him to a chair, but he declined with a little bow
of thanks.

"Mademoiselle," he said, "and you, Mr. Bellamy, we need not waste
words. We have played a game of chess together. You, Mademoiselle,
and Mr. Bellamy on the one side--I and my friends upon the other.
The honor of Rudolph Von Behrling was the pawn for which we fought.
The victory remains with you."

Bellamy never moved a muscle. Louise, on the contrary, could not
help a slight start.

"Under the circumstances," the Baron continued smoothly, "the
struggle was uneven. I do myself the justice to remember that from
the first I realized that we played a losing game. Mademoiselle,"
he added, "from the days of Cleopatra--ay, and throughout those
shadowy days which lie beyond--the diplomats of the world have been
powerless when matched against your sex. Rudolph Von Behrling was
an honest fellow enough until he looked into your eyes. Mademoiselle,
you have gifts which might, perhaps, have driven from his senses a
stronger man."

Louise smiled, but there was no suggestion of mirth in the curl of
her lips. Her eyes all the time sought his questioningly. She did
not understand.

"You flatter me, Baron," she murmured.

"No, I do not flatter you, I speak the truth. This plain talking
is pleasant enough when the time comes that one may indulge in it.
That time, I think, is now. Rudolph Von Behrling, against my advice,
but because he was the Chancellor's nephew, was associated wi