must get them back. The gentleman
is dwelling in a bungalow on the mountain side, for greater convenience
in watching events and wooing the lady of his heart's desire. We employed
a clumsy clown to put him out of the world; but he dies hard, and now we
have got to get rid of him. But if he hasn't the papers on his clothes
then you have this pleasant scheme for kidnapping him, getting him down
to your steamer at Baltimore and cruising with him until he is ready to
come to terms. The American air has done much for your imagination, my
dear Jules; or possibly the altitude of the hills has over-stimulated
it."

"You are not the fool you look, my dear Durand. You have actually taken a
pretty fair grasp of the situation."

"But the adorable young lady, the fair Mademoiselle Claiborne,--what
becomes of her in these transactions?"

"That is none of your affair," replied Chauvenet, frowning. "I am quite
content with my progress. I have not finished in that matter."

"Neither, it would seem, has Mr. John Armitage! But I am quite well
satisfied to leave it to you. In a few days we shall know much more than
we do now. I should be happier if you were in charge in Vienna. A false
step there--ugh! I hesitate to think of the wretched mess there would
be."

"Trust Winkelried to do his full duty. You must not forget that the acute
Stroebel now sleeps the long sleep and that many masses have already been
said for the repose of his intrepid soul."

"The splendor of our undertaking is enough to draw his ghost from the
grave. Ugh! By this time Zmai should have filed our cablegram at the
Springs and got your mail at the hotel. I hope you have not misplaced
your confidence in the operator there. Coming back, our giant must pass
Armitage's house."

"Trust him to pass it! His encounters with Armitage have not been to his
credit."

The two men were dressed in rough clothes, as for an outing, and in spite
of the habitual trifling tone of their talk, they wore a serious air.
Durand's eyes danced with excitement and he twisted his mustache
nervously. Chauvenet had gone to Washington to meet Durand, to get from
him news of the progress of the conspiracy in Vienna, and, not least, to
berate him for crossing the Atlantic. "I do not require watching, my dear
Durand," he had said.

"A man in love, dearest Jules, sometimes forgets;" but they had gone into
the Virginia hills amicably and were quartered with the postmaster. They
waited now for Z