ed away Blivinski placed a bony impressive finger on
Counsellor's sleeve.

'If he were not English, you could not trust him,' he said
enigmatically.

Counsellor raised his bushy eyebrows, with a humorous glance. 'We have
had our day.'

'Ah, my friend, you know most things. Also I know a very few,' Blivinski
said significantly, 'but with your nation patriotism is not a virtue, it
is a part of your physical system. You sacrifice all for your country,
not because it is right to do so, but simply because you cannot help it;
the good God made you so. Therefore this young man, in face of the
supreme temptation of youth, may be trusted. I speak of these things now
because you will remember, in good time, that those who are against you
will not dare to injure'--he removed the finger to his own breast--'us
also!'

And the little silent swarthy man slipped away almost before Counsellor
realised that Russia, the mighty, had given him a pledge which might
prove of immense value in the uncertain future.

Rallywood found the young Countess crouching and shivering near a wood
fire. She was magnificently dressed in rich tones of royal purple, that
accentuated her delicate fairness and beauty, and a small diadem of
amethysts shone in the pale gold of her hair.

She took no notice of his entrance, though she was acutely conscious
that his eyes were on her. She was hungry of his gaze, and she believed
in the power of her own loveliness.

'Jack,' she said at last, 'come here. I wonder now why I sent for you,
but I am miserable.'

She looked up at him heavy-lidded.

There was concern in his voice as he answered her.

'If I told you all,' she went on, 'you would not believe me. I am
now--to-night--in great danger.'

'In danger? Here? where you are surrounded by friends,' replied
Rallywood, beginning to wish himself well out of it. Had there been no
Valerie Selpdorf, or even had he not uttered those impulsive words
which, to his mind, changed his position from the indefinite to the
definite, the history of his life might have been turned into another
channel that evening. As it was, though Valerie remained free as the
wind, he felt himself to be in some vague manner bound to her.

'Nonsense! You know how useless all these friends would be if things
went wrong with me. They flatter the Countess of Sagan, but not one of
them would make the smallest sacrifice for Isolde, the woman. I do not
know if you, even you, are my friend. W