ment to breakfast with Baron von Marhof at his house at eight
o'clock in the morning, and if I am not there every agency of the
government will be put to work to find you, Mr. Jules Chauvenet, and
these other scoundrels who travel with you."

"You are violent, my dear sir--" began Durand, whose wits were coming
back to him much quicker than Chauvenet's.

"I am not as violent as I shall be if I get a troop of cavalry from Port
Myer down here and hunt you like rabbits through the hills. And I advise
you to cable Winkelried at Vienna that the game is all off!"

Chauvenet suddenly jumped toward the table, the revolver still swinging
at arm's length.

"You know too much!"

"I don't know any more than Armitage, and Baron von Marhof and my father,
and the Honorable Secretary of State, to say nothing of the equally
Honorable Secretary of War."

Claiborne stretched out his arms and rested them along the shelf of the
mantel, and smiled with a smile which the dirt on his face weirdly
accented. His hat was gone, his short hair rumpled; he dug the bricks of
the hearth with the toe of his riding-boot as an emphasis of his
contentment with the situation.

"You don't understand the gravity of our labors. The peace of a great
Empire is at stake in this business. We are engaged on a patriotic
mission of great importance."

It was Durand who spoke. Outside, Zmai held the horses in readiness.

"You are a fine pair of patriots, I swear," said Claiborne. "What in the
devil do you want with John Armitage?"

"He is a menace to a great throne--an impostor--a--"

Chauvenet's eyes swept with a swift glance the cloak, the sword, the
scattered orders. Claiborne followed the man's gaze, but he looked
quickly toward Durand and Chauvenet, not wishing them to see that the
sight of these things puzzled him.

"Pretty trinkets! But such games as yours, these pretty baubles--are not
for these free hills."

"_Where is John Armitage_?"

Chauvenet half raised his right arm as he spoke and the steel of his
revolver flashed.

Claiborne did not move; he smiled upon them, recrossed his legs, and
settled his back more comfortably against the mantel-shelf.

"I really forget where he said he would be at this hour. He and his man
may have gone to Washington, or they may have started for Vienna, or they
may be in conference with Baron von Marhof at my father's, or they may be
waiting for you at the gate. The Lord only knows!"

"Come; we waste tim