ou. I have done what I can, but he himself is torn
with doubts and fears. The sound of the guns, and the thought of the
fighting goads him to madness. I have done what I promised. Through me
he has broken with the King, and I have sent him to you. The rest you
should have accomplished."

"And so I should," Domiloff declared, fiercely, "but for that cursed
interruption. It is ill to do with men who do not know their own
minds."

"Or with women in the like straits, my friend," she murmured.

He shot a quick glance at her.

"Of you," he declared, quietly, "I have no fear. You would not see
this American girl Queen of Theos. I do not think that you would stand
in waiting before her throne."

Marie's face was for a moment white with passion. She seemed as though
she would strike him. Domiloff watched her narrowly. He liked to be
sure of every one with whom he had to deal, and there were times when
she eluded him.

"No," she answered at last. "It is not likely that I should do that.
Baron Domiloff, I will show you the way to my brother's room."

"One moment."

He touched her arm. She drew it away with an angry exclamation.
Domiloff was not without vanity, and his personal repugnance to her,
which she was at no pains to hide, galled him. For a moment he dared
not trust himself to speak.

"Will you be so good as to remember," she said, with cutting force,
"that my toleration of you is on account of Theos, and Theos only.
Personally, I hate all conspirators and plotters. The idea of this
sort of thing and everybody connected with it is loathsome to me."

He bowed low. It was as well that she could not see his face.

"Countess," he said, "you will excuse my familiarity, but there was a
matter--an urgent matter--which I had yet to mention to you. There is
a man who must die unless he leaves Theos in four-and-twenty hours. I
have heard him called your friend--else he were a dead man at this
moment."

She looked at him doubtfully.

"You do not mean the King?"

"No! I mean Walter Brand, the English journalist."

She started. Domiloff watched her keenly.

"What has he done?" she asked.

"What has he not done. You remember his first appearance here?"

She laughed softly.

"I remember it very well," she answered. "He was bold enough to befool
the wily Baron Domiloff--to play with him and beat him at his own
game. Yes, his first coming I remember very well indeed."

The darkness hid Domiloff's face. His voice w