There was another game than chess being played there, though
kings and queens and knights and bishops were still the sum of it.

"Are you so very far away, then?" The song had ceased; the countess was
looking at him curiously.

"Thank you," he said; "indeed, you had taken me out of myself."

"Do you like chestnuts?" she asked suddenly.

"I am very fond of them."

"Then I shall fetch some." It occurred to her that the room was very
warm; she wanted a breath of air--alone.

"Checkmate!" cried the Colonel, joyfully.

"Do you begin to understand?" asked Madame.

"A little," admitted Fitzgerald, who did not wish to learn too quickly.
"I like to watch the game."

"So do I," said Maurice, who had approached the table. "I should like to
know what the game is, too."

Both Madame and the Colonel appeared to accept the statement and not the
innuendo. Madame placed the figures on the board.

Maurice strolled over to the table and aimlessly glanced through the
Vienna illustrated weeklies. He saw Franz Josef in characteristic poses,
full-page engravings of the military maneuvers and reproductions of the
notable paintings. He picked up an issue dated June. A portrait of the
new Austrian ambassador to France attracted his attention. He turned the
leaf. What he saw on the following page caused him to widen his eyes and
let slip an ejaculation loud enough to be heard by the chess players.
Madame seemed on the point of rising. Maurice did not lower his eyes nor
Madame hers.

"Checkmate in three moves, Madame!" exclaimed the Colonel; "it is
wonderful."

"What's the matter, Maurice?" asked Fitzgerald.

"Jack, I am a ruined man."

"How? What?" nearly upsetting the board.

"I just this moment remember that I left my gas burning at the hotel,
and it is extra."

The Colonel and Fitzgerald lay back in their chairs and roared with
laughter.

But Madame did not even smile.

CHAPTER X. BEING OF LONG RIDES, MAIDS, KISSES AND MESSAGES

Fitzgerald was first into bed that night.

"I want to finish this cigar, Jack," said Maurice, who wished to be
alone with his thoughts. He sat in the chair by the window and lifted
his feet to the sill. The night wind was warm and odorous. He had
found a clue, but through what labyrinth would it lead him? A strange
adventure, indeed; so strange that he was of half a mind that he
dreamed. Prisoners.... Why? And these two women alone in this old
chateau, a house party. There lay below a