cannot concern him any more. To-day I am a free woman and I take the
side I choose."

"Dear madame," he replied, "what you have proposed to us is, after all,
quite natural and very gracious. If one has a fear at all about the
matter, it is as to the importance of these documents you speak of.
Bernadine, I know, has dealt in great affairs; but he was a diplomat by
instinct, experienced and calculating. One does not keep incriminating
papers."

She leaned a little forward. The car had swung round a corner now and
was making its way up an avenue as dark as pitch.

"The wisest of us, Monsieur le Marquis," she whispered, "reckon
sometimes without that one element of sudden death. What should you say,
I wonder, to a list of agents in France pledged to circulate in certain
places literature of an infamous sort? What should you say, monsieur, to
a copy of a secret report of your late maneuvers, franked with the name
of one of your own staff officers? What should you say," she went
on, "to a list of Socialist deputies with amounts against their name,
amounts paid in hard cash? Are these of no importance to you?"

"Madame," Sogrange answered, simply, "for such information, if it were
genuine, it would be hard to mention a price which we should not be
prepared to pay."

The car came to a sudden standstill. The first impression of the two men
was that the Baroness had exaggerated the loneliness and desolation of
the place. There was nothing mysterious or forbidding about the plain,
brownstone house before which they had stopped. The windows were
streaming with light; the hall door, already thrown open, disclosed a
very comfortable hall, brilliantly illuminated. A man-servant assisted
his mistress to alight, another ushered them in. In the background were
other servants. The Baroness glanced at the clock.

"About dinner, Carl?" she asked.

"It waits for madame," the man answered.

She nodded.

"Take care of these gentlemen till I descend," she ordered. "You will
not mind?" she added, turning pleadingly to Sogrange. "To-day I have
eaten nothing. I am faint with hunger. Afterwards, it will be a matter
but of half an hour. You can be in London again by ten o'clock."

"As you will, madame," Sogrange replied. "We are greatly indebted to you
for your hospitality. But for costume, you understand that we are as we
are?"

"It is perfectly understood," she assured him. "For myself, I rejoin you
in ten minutes. A loose gown, that