servant, who was wearing my coat, and who, I gather from the
newspaper reports, was mistaken for me. I myself was unhurt. I hired a
motor car and drove to Boulogne--not the best of journeys, let me tell
you, for we broke down three times. There was no steamer there, but I
hired a fishing boat, which brought me across the Channel in something
under eight hours. From the coast I motored direct here. I was so
anxious," he added, raising his eyes, "to see how my dear friend--my
dear Aimee--was bearing the terrible news."

She fluttered for a moment like a bird in a trap. Peter drew a little
sigh of relief. His self-respect was reinstated. He had decided that she
was innocent. Upon them, at least, would not fall the ignominy of having
been led into the simplest of traps by this white-faced Delilah. The
butler had brought her another glass, which she raised to her lips. She
drained its contents, but the ghastliness of her appearance remained
unchanged. Peter, watching her, knew the signs. She was sick with
terror.

"The conditions throughout France are indeed awful," Sogrange remarked.
"They say, too, that this railway strike is only the beginning of worse
things."

Bernadine smiled.

"Your country, dear Marquis," he said, "is on its last legs. No one
knows better than I that it is, at the present moment, honeycombed with
sedition and anarchical impulses. The people are rotten. For years the
whole tone of France has been decadent. Its fall must even now be close
at hand."

"You take a gloomy view of my country's future," Sogrange declared.

"Why should one refuse to face facts?" Bernadine replied. "One does not
often talk so frankly, but we three are met together this evening under
somewhat peculiar circumstances. The days of the glory of France are
past. England has laid out her neck for the yoke of the conqueror. Both
are doomed to fall. Both are ripe for the great humiliation. You two
gentlemen whom I have the honor to receive as my guests," he concluded,
filling his glass and bowing towards them, "in your present unfortunate
predicament represent precisely the position of your two countries."

"Ave Caesar!" Peter muttered grimly, raising his glass to his lips.

Bernadine accepted the challenge.

"It is not I, alas! who may call myself Caesar," he replied, "although
it is certainly you who are about to die."

Sogrange turned to the man who stood behind his chair.

"If I might trouble you for a little dry toast