toner
has in hand. He reports on events before they have happened, which is a
different story. I merely warn you."

As he spoke, Kosmaroff rose, glancing at the clock.

"There are no instructions?"

"None," answered the prince. "Except the usual one--patience!"

"Ah yes," replied Kosmaroff, "we shall be patient."

He did not seem to think that it might be easier to be patient in this
comfortable house than on the sand-hills of the Vistula in the coming
winter months.

"But be careful," he added, addressing Martin more particularly, "of
this man Cartoner. He will not betray, but he will know--you understand.
And no one must know!"

He shook hands with Martin and Wanda and then with the prince.

"You met him in London, you say?" he said to the prince. "What did you
think of him?"

"I thought him--a quiet man."

"And Wanda?" continued Kosmaroff, lightly, turning to her--"she who sees
so much. What did she think of him?"

"I was afraid of him!"

XI

AN AGREEMENT TO DIFFER

The Saxon Gardens are in the heart of Warsaw, and, in London, would be
called a park. At certain hours the fashionable world promenades beneath
the trees, and at all times there is a thoroughfare across from one
quarter of the town to another.

Wanda often sat there in the morning or walked slowly with her father
at such times as the doctor's instructions to take exercise were still
fresh upon his memory. There are seats beneath the trees, overlooking
the green turf and the flowers so dear to the Slavonian soul. Later in
the morning these seats are occupied by nurses and children, as in any
other park in any other city. But from nine to ten Wanda had the alleys
mostly to herself.

The early autumn had already laid its touch upon the trees, and the
leaves were brown. The flowers, laboriously tended all through the
brief, uncertain summer, had that forlorn look which makes autumn in
Northern latitudes a period of damp depression. Wanda had gone out
early, and was sitting at the sunny side of the broad alley that divides
the gardens in two from end to end. She was waiting for Martin, who had
been called back at the door of the palace and had promised to follow
in a few minutes. He had a hundred engagements during the day, a hundred
friends among those unfortunate scions of noble houses who will not wear
the Russian uniform, who cannot by the laws of their caste engage in
any form of commerce, and must not accept a government offic