t will depend upon the efficiency of the Austrian Secret Police."

"Meaning, precisely what, Herr Renwick?"

"Merely that the Wilhelmstrasse is skillful, Herr Windt," he replied.

"You mean that they will escape--here in Austria! Impossible!"

"You will need all your wits," said Renwick dryly.

The truth of the remark was soon apparent for when Herr Windt's party
reached the telegraph station at Budweis, there were no reassuring
messages. The green limousine had vanished into the earth.

CHAPTER VIII

AN ESCAPE AND A CAPTURE

In her flight from the cabin in the Archduke's woods, the Countess
Strahni crept along in the shadow of the hedge which bordered the
orchard, and reached the gate of the garden. She had seen the watcher in
the orchard pacing to and fro, and, awaiting the moment when his back
should be turned, she hurried swiftly on to the shelter of the garden
wall, once within which, she thought that she would be safe from
detection by the men of Herr Windt. She waited for a moment at the gate
to be sure that the man near the cabin had not observed her, and noted,
through the foliage, that he had not moved. Then summoning her courage,
she crossed the garden boldly in the direction of the arbor--the fateful
arbor of Austria's betrayal--and her own. In the path beyond it Hugh
Renwick would be awaiting her--Renwick, the imperturbable, the
persistent, the--the despicable. Yes, she was quite sure that she
despised him, in spite of all his efforts on her behalf, so the thought
that she was once more to be beholden to him in this hapless quest gave
her a long moment of uncertainty as she reached the arbor. She paused
within the structure, wondering whether, now that she had succeeded in
eluding Herr Windt, it would not be better to flee into the castle, and
enlist the aid of the servants in behalf of their master and mistress.
She had even taken a few steps toward the tennis court, when she
remembered--the telegraph in the hands of Austrian officials who had
their instructions! That way was hopeless. The Archduke's chamberlain
had, of course, gone south, and in the castle, beside the
house-servants, there would have remained only the English governess,
the children, and the housekeeper. There could be little help expected
from them--only bewilderment, horror, or perhaps incredulity. She must
go on to Herr Renwick, continue the impossible situation between them,
hide her exasperation in a studied politenes