"It seems to me your meaning is somewhat obscure," she retorted.

"However, whether you don't mean it, or do mean it, I'll trust myself to you because it's you, Mr. Harleston."

"Permanently, my lady?"

"Certainly not, sir. I refer only to this afternoon; I want to be in at the end of the game."

"For me," said Harleston slowly, "it's been a very fortunate game."

"Games are uncertain and sometimes costly," she shrugged.

"When played with Spencer, they are both and then some," he replied.

At that moment Carpenter pushed back his chair and arose, nodded pleasantly to Mrs. Clephane and Harleston as he pa.s.sed, and went out.

"Will Mr. Carpenter be at the finish?" Mrs. Clephane asked.

"Probably; but he'll be in the lobby when we go through."

"They are going!" she whispered. "And they're coming this way."

As Mrs. Spencer and Snodgra.s.s went by, the former with an intimate little look at Harleston, said confidentially:

"I'll be ready at half-past three, Guy."

"Very good!" Harleston answered promptly--when she was past, he looked at Mrs. Clephane.

"The cat!" she muttered; then smiled quizzically. "Such a pleasant air of proprietorship," she observed.

"Too pleasant," he returned. "I've something to tell you as to it and her, when the present matter is ended."

"Will it keep?"

He nodded. "I can tell it better then--and have more time for the telling."

The headwaiter approached casually, as though surveying the table.

"Well!" said Harleston.

"He went to the private mail boxes; she's waiting in the lobby," the man replied. "He received a small letter, which he opened; it enclosed only another envelope, which he put in his pocket without opening. He returned to the lobby and they left the Club-House."

Harleston nodded. "It's time for us to be moving," said he to Mrs.

Clephane. "Will you trust me?" he asked as they pa.s.sed into the lobby, at the far end of which Carpenter was sitting absorbed in his cigar.

"Absolutely!" she replied.

"And will you go with Carpenter; he understands? I'll be with you shortly. I must act quickly now."

Carpenter arose as they neared.

"Just started," said he, and bowed to Mrs. Clephane.

"Mrs. Clephane understands," Harleston explained "I confide her to your care. _a bientot._"

He hurried out. A taxi, waiting with power on, sped up; he sprang aboard and it raced away.

As it neared the Connecticut Avenue bridge, the taxi slowed down a trifle and the driver half-faced around.

"The other car is just ahead, sir," he reported.

"Very good," said Harleston. "Does the driver know we're behind him?"

"I've signalled, sir, and he's answered."

"Maintain the distance," Harleston directed.

"Yes sir," said the man.

Keeping about a hundred yards apart--the two cars sped down the hill and around Dupont Circle to Ma.s.sachusetts Avenue, thence by it and Sixteenth Street to H. The one in the lead continued on toward Fourteenth.

Harleston's shot down Fifteenth, flashed over the tracks at Pennsylvania Avenue, swung into F Street, and drew in at the Chateau just as the other came around the Fourteenth Street corner, and rolled slowly up to the curb.

As Snodgra.s.s was a.s.sisting Madeline Spencer to alight--and taking his time about it--Harleston glanced at his watch, sprang from his car, and hastened over.

"This is fortunate, Mrs. Spencer!" he exclaimed. "Just after you left the Rataplan the Secretary of State telephoned that he was summoned to the White House at four, and I should bring you an hour earlier. On the chance of overtaking you, I beat it after you. Now if Captain Snodgra.s.s will permit you, we have just time to get over to the Department."

"Will you excuse me, Captain Snodgra.s.s?" she asked, with her compelling smile.

"A Secretary of State may not be denied," Snodgra.s.s replied. "In this instance in particular I would I were his Excellency."

"Come and dine with me at eight," giving him her hand.... "Now, Mr.

Harleston, I am ready."

"What did you do with Mrs. Clephane?" she asked, when they were started.

"I left her at the Rataplan," he replied.

"Alone?"

"Oh no--with Carpenter, who chanced to be handy."

"The bald-headed chap, who spoke to you in the dining-room?"

"Exactly!"

"Carpenter is the chief of the Cipher Division, I believe you said."

"I don't recall that I said it, Madeline, but your information is correct."

"I think I'll ask the Secretary for the letter," she remarked.