In an upstairs room of a Washington Ministry three men sat in conference. One, a stout, bearded man, was seated behind a flat-top desk on which he constantly thrummed with nervous fingers; the others sat facing him. The man at the desk was the Minister of a Kingdom, and looked it. His eyes were half closed, as if in languid indifference, effectually veiling their keenness. The expression of his mouth was lost in the dark moustache, and in the beard combed from the center.

The visible part of his face would have made a gambler's fortune; and, save for its warm color, it might have been carved out of ice. Without ever a hint of harshness or loudness, his voice was one to command attention; though it came out soft and velvety, it was with the half a.s.surance that it could ring like steel if the occasion arose. The occasion never arose. The hands, whose fingers thrummed on the gla.s.s-topped desk, were soft, warm-looking, and always moist, with a dampness that on contact made you feel vaguely that you had touched oil--and you had.

Both of the other men were beardless, but one had the ghost of a moustache on his upper lip. He was dapper, clean and deferential. The other was short and somewhat ungainly in build, and his face showed evidence of the recent shaving off of a heavy beard. He had no graces, and evidently no thoughts but of service--service of any kind, so long as he recognized the authority demanding it. His clothes did not suit him; they were rich enough, but they were not his kind. A soldier of the ranks, a sailor before the mast, a laborer on Sunday, could have exchanged clothes with this man and profited in values, while the other would certainly have profited in looks.

"You did not see the other, then, Ivan?" the fat man asked, interrupting the story of his awkward guest.

"I did not, Excellency. He came at me too quickly, and I had no idea there was anyone there besides myself and--and the person who--"

"Yes, yes. The person who is now without a name. Go on."

"I was in the shrubs, near a great large tree that seemed to form part of a wall, when the two, the person and a lady, came back together.

She--"

"Did they act as if they knew one another?"

The man smiled. "Excellency, they acted as if they knew one another quite well. They embraced."

"_That_ you did _not_ see, Ivan?"

"No, Excellency, of course, I did not see _that_."

"Proceed, Ivan."

"After they--parted, Excellency, the lady opened the tree and went into it."

"_Opened the tree_?" The nervous fingers were stilled.

"Yes, Excellency. It must have been a door."

"Rather odd for America, I should say. Eh, Wratslav?"

The dapper man bowed. "As you say, Excellency, it is rather unusual in America."

"Proceed, Ivan." The Minister resumed his thrumming.

"When the lady closed the tree and was gone, the--ah--person--turned to go past me. My gun had the silencer on which Your Excellency--"

"You are forgetting again, Ivan." The half-closed eyes opened for an instant, and the steel was close underneath the velvet of the tone.

"Which Your Excellency has no doubt heard of."

"Oh, yes--Maxim's."

"My gun exploded--but noiselessly, Excellency, because of the silencer--just as the strange man jumped at me. The--ah--person fell, and I ran. The strange man followed and caught me. I fought, but he knew where to hit; and when I awoke I was alone with the--person--who had, most unfortunately, been killed when the gun went off. I came back and--" he glanced at the one who had been called Wratslav--"he came with me."

The Minister looked inquiringly toward the dapper man, who then took up the story.

"We thought it better to dispose of the--person, Excellency, and avoid--"

"Exactly. You did well. That will do, Ivan. You may return to your duties."

The man arose and went toward the door, but the Minister stopped him.

"One moment, Ivan. Do you think we could find the other?--the man who struck you?"

"I think his face, or hands, or arms, would be marked by the gun fire, Excellency."

"Thank you, Ivan."

The rough man bowed himself out. For a while the Minister sat silent, gazing contemplatively at the fingers which were moving more slowly now as though keeping pace with his thoughts. Finally he looked up.

"Did you find out if there were any strangers in town last night, Wratslav?"

"There were two, Excellency. One was our own detective, who knew not at all that I was on the work. The other was an Englishman--the same who visits the lady."

"H-m, h-mmmm." The tones were long drawn out, and again His Excellency was silent, considering what this new development might mean. The fingers ceased their thrumming and closed around a delicate ivory paper-knife which lay near by. When the Minister again spoke, he did so slowly, carefully, weighing each word.

"Have you seen him--the Englishman--since?"

"No, Excellency--"

"No?" The word came with cold emphasis.

"The hotel clerk, who is friendly--for a consideration--telephoned me that the Englishman was out at the time of the accident, and that his hand was burned slightly, and showed powder marks."

"So! He has said nothing to the authorities?"

"Not a word, so far as I have heard."

"Strange. Why should he conceal the matter?"

"He might think that he would be suspected."

"True, true. That is well spoken, Wratslav. But yet he knows a little too much, does he not?"

"A great deal too much, Excellency."

"There is no certainty that he does not know also who the lady is."

"He goes to see her, Excellency."

The ivory knife swayed delicately, rhythmically, in the mobile fingers, then was still. The Minister spoke deliberately.

"It would be well if he did not go again--did not speak to her again for that matter--" The heavy lids flickered for an instant as His Excellency flashed one look of keen intent towards his hearer as though to emphasize the portent of his words. Then the smooth voice continued, "if it could be arranged."

"It can be arranged, Excellency."

"I thought so." Again the keen look. Then the Minister leaned back in his chair, revolving it slightly that his arm might rest more comfortably on the desk.