settled his automatic comfortably
in his pocket, and after another and more reassuring inspection of his
travelling companions he took out Marishka's note and examined it
carefully.

The knowledge he possessed as to her situation suggested caution. An
agency which could attempt to take his life would not be above forgery.
Marishka's hand? There seemed no doubt of it. It was not difficult for
Renwick to remember the peculiarities of her angular writing. The notes
he had received from her, invitations, appointments, apologies--very
often apologies, he remembered with a slow smile--dainty, faintly
scented missives on gray paper which bore her crest, differed from this
hurriedly written scrawl on a heavier paper which he had no means of
identifying. Only upon closer inspection did he discover a hesitation in
the lower curves and upward strokes of the letters which were not
characteristic of the decisive Marishka.

Without being certain of its spuriousness, he came to the conclusion
that because of its contents, the note was for the present to be
regarded as an object for suspicion. Would Marishka--the Marishka who a
few hours ago had treated him with such acidulous politeness--write, "I
need you"? Could contemptuous silence be turned so quickly into urgent
appeal? Her danger made such a transition a possibility, and if she was
now ready to recant, all the more reason why he should obey. The one
thing about the message which struck a jarring note was the request for
secrecy under plea of personal danger. And if a forgery--why should his
enemies speak of her personal danger? A lure! So obvious a one that only
the veriest dolt could be deceived by it. The situation then resolved
itself into this: He was invited to go to Sarajevo--if by Marishka, to
save her from personal danger or abduction by her captor--if by the
German agent, with Marishka as a lure, to be the victim of a conspiracy
which planned either murder or imprisonment. And, however keen his own
prescience, Renwick realized that the note had so far succeeded in its
object. He was on his way.

He was too tired tonight to do the situation justice, for the blow at
the back of his head had taken some of his strength, and he realized
that without sleep his utility would be impaired for the morrow. And
after a glance at his companions, he decided to chance it, and settling
himself comfortably, he was soon heavily sleeping.

Renwick was awakened some while later by the