For that one second I can chance throwing this letter out into the street. I shall load it with a cut-gla.s.s ball I found on my desk. It is a beautiful little paper-weight, but its beauty won't save it this time. Someone will surely take the letter to you. Where to find you is my worry. But I know that the signal flashes could only mean that you are in the city, so I am risking the New Willard.

"A warship has been sent to take the Grand d.u.c.h.ess home. I cannot convince them that I am only Ruth Atheson. I am sure they are going to send me away. You must get me out of this house quickly, or it will be too late.

"Give me this special signal and I will be ready: At ten-thirty any morning flash the light and keep it still on the top of the gate pillar. Leave it there a moment; then flash it once across the top if you are coming that day, or twice for night. If you receive this letter, answer it by flashing the light into my room to-morrow morning.

I shall pray for friendly sunlight.

"Thank you for coming. I don't know how you found out, but somehow I felt that you would. Love to the dear Father, if he is with you. I feel pretty sure he is.

"Ruth."

Saunders was the first to speak.

"I think, Father," he said, "that you have a clever niece. This makes things easy."

The Padre smiled. But Mark was not smiling--one can't do so little a thing to show unbounded joy.

CHAPTER XIX

CAPITULATION

It was early next morning when Saunders knocked at Mark Griffin's door.

His knock was soft, for Mark's room adjoined Father Murray's. When Mark rose to let him in, the detective entered on tiptoe.

"I came down to see you early," he said, "because I wanted to dodge the Padre, and I thought perhaps he'd be over in the church for his Ma.s.s."

"A good Yankee guess," said Mark. "I heard him leave a few minutes ago, so you can talk as loud as you like. What is the matter?

Anything gone wrong?"

"It's just this," said the detective. "We must make our attempt to get Miss Atheson without the Padre's knowing anything about it. I have been thinking about the thing, and I have a plan I believe will work.

It's out of the question to get that guard off the watch in any ordinary way. If we attempt it, the house will be alarmed and we shall be taken for burglars."

"What difference if we are?" said Mark, very warmly. "If the Ministry can stand publicity, we can. I am in favor of taking strong measures right now."

"Not on your life, Griffin. Not on your life," said Saunders. "You don't seem to realize that the Padre cannot stand strong measures.

Arrest as burglars would mean publicity, and there would be all sorts of fierce stories in the press. He is a priest--and then some."

"Well, what of it?"

"Sure, I know," soothed Saunders. "But the papers aren't in the journalistic game for dignity, and they'd play the Padre up for all he was worth; the more yellow the story, the better. The lady must be gotten out of the Ministry quietly. Once we have her, it will be up to the Ministry to make the next move. I have a hunch that His Excellency won't make it."

"Well," said Mark grudgingly, "I suppose the quiet way is the better way. What is your plan? Why not let Father Murray know?"

"I can't let him know, because he'd want to be in on it. At all risks, he's got to be kept out. What I propose to do is to start up such a trouble in the rear of the house that, for five minutes at least, there'll be no guard in the front."

"You would have to set it on fire to do that."

Saunders put his finger impressively upon a b.u.t.ton of Mark's pajamas.

"You've guessed it, first shot out of the box. That's just what I'm going to do. Rather, that's what _we're_ going to do."

Mark looked at him in solemn silence.

"Saunders, what did you have to put you in this condition?"

"Plain water and a cold bath," answered Saunders promptly.

"Then perhaps you'll explain."

"It'll be easy. They can put the fire out after the lady has gotten away. The Minister is going to dinner to-night. Madame Minister--or whatever you call her--will be with him; so will his flock of girls, and so, of course, will His Excellency's secretary. The rest of his staff don't live there. I figure that the guards, and the servants, and Miss Atheson will be the only ones in the house. The fire will bring all but Miss Atheson to the back. A rope ladder skillfully thrown will do the rest. Now you see why I can't mix the Padre up in that. We may be arrested, though I don't think we shall. The Minister doesn't want anything of that kind. This morning I'll flash the night escape signal to Miss Atheson. She'll be ready to leave, and you may be sure she'll find a way to warn us if the guard is still around.

To-night you make an excuse to the Padre and slip away. He's going to see a friend anyhow at the University out in Brookland. I heard him say so. Tell him not to worry if you happen to be out when he comes back. Fix it up any way you like, and we'll make the play and win."

"Who's to do the 'skillful throwing' of the ladder?"

"A friend of mine who used to be a fireman."

"Do you think you can get him?"

"I've engaged him already."

"H-m." Mark stared at the detective, then burst forth with, "What time did you get up?"

"I didn't have to get up. I haven't gone to bed yet."

Mark sat down in his chair to think. After a while he put out his hand to the detective.

"I believe you've got it, Saunders. I'll do it--but you'd better get some rest"

"Me for my little trundle bed." And Saunders, in high spirits, waved his hand as he went out the door.

Left alone, Mark proceeded to dress, but awaited Father Murray's return before going down to breakfast. The time seemed long after breakfast, but at length the priest prepared to leave the hotel.

Mark spoke nonchalantly. "Oh, Father, I'm going out in the country with some friends, and may not get back till quite late to-night."

"All right, Mark. I hope you have a pleasant trip."

It was so easy that Mark felt a trifle worried. His device was crude, and the priest had never before been so easily deceived.

It was midnight when a big automobile containing Saunders, his ex-fireman friend and Mark, drew up cautiously on a side street near the Ministry. The men at first walked quietly past the house. They saw a light in the apartment occupied by Ruth, but there seemed to be no other light within. They then walked around the block, pa.s.sing a policeman at the corner, and entered the alley behind the Ministry on the other side, out of the bluecoat's sight. There was no one in the back yard, and Saunders easily effected an entrance into the garage, which was not far from the house. Taking from his pocket an ordinary hot-water bag, he knocked the lock off the gasoline tank and proceeded to fill the bag with gasoline. Then he turned to Mark.

"That's all back here for you. Leave the rear work to me. Go around, you two, and get the ladder. In fifteen minutes I'll have a fire at the back door. You'll probably see the light. As soon as you hear cries from the house, listen well and you'll know whether or not the guard has rushed back. The big door-window on the balcony is always left open so that the guard can command the window of Miss Atheson's room, and you can easily hear him open and close the inside door. If he doesn't leave, the game's up. As soon as you are sure he's gone, throw up the ladder. If you get Miss Atheson, don't wait for me. Rush her to the automobile and back to the hotel. I'll take care of myself.

Now go on, and wait for the big noise."

The three men moved toward the door, but fell back when they saw a dark figure plainly outlined against the dim light behind him. Saunders said something under his breath. The ex-fireman turned pale, for he thought it was a policeman.

"The country is beautiful in the autumn, isn't it, Mark?"