I am France's servant, playing a
somewhat guileful game which is as ancient as Ulysses, and subject to
certain definite rules."

"Yes, but--"

"But, my dear lady, this revolution I have planted--nourished and
cultivated to ripeness--I cannot harvest it. Outside Europe must not
appear interested in this matter. If the Galavian people led by a member
of the Galavian Royal House revolts! _Bien!_ More than
_bien_--excellent!" Jusseret spread his palms. "But unless there is a
leader, there can be no revolution. No, no, Louis should have kept out
of custody."

The Countess leaned forward with sudden eagerness.

"And if I free him? If I devise a way?"

The Frenchman turned quickly from contemplation of the landscape to her
face.

"Ah!" he exclaimed. "Once more you are yourself; the cleverest woman in
Europe, as, always, you are the most charming!"

"Do you know where Monsieur Martin may be found?"

Jusseret looked at her in surprise.

"I supposed he was here, consulting with you. I sent him to you with a
letter--recommending him as a useful instrument."

"He was in Algiers, but I sent him away." The Countess laughed. "He
wanted money, always money, until I wearied of furnishing his purse."

"Even if he were available he could hardly go to Puntal, Madame,"
demurred Jusseret. "Von Ritz knows him."

"True." The Countess sat for a time in deep thought.

"There is one man in Puntal," said Jusseret with sudden thought, "who
might possibly be of assistance to you. He is not legally a citizen of
Galavia. He even has a certain official connection with another
government. He is a man I cannot myself approach." Jusseret had been
talking in a low tone, too low to endanger being overheard by the
_cocher_, but now with excess of caution he leaned forward and whispered
a name. The name was Jose Reebeler.

* * * * *

It was June. Three months had passed since the Grand Duke had steamed
into Puntal Harbor as Blanco's prisoner of war. The Duke had since that
day been a guest of the King. His goings and comings were, however,
guarded with strict solicitude. One day he went after his custom for a
stroll in the Palace garden. He was accompanied by two officers of the
Palace Guard especially selected by Von Ritz for known fidelity. At the
garden gates stood picked sentinels. That evening a fisherman's boat
stole out of the harbor. Neither Louis Delgado nor his guard returned.
The sentinels failed