"_Ach! leider!_" she sighed. "A prisoner can have no choice."

He made no reply to that and sank back into his favorite position with arms folded, staring straight before him. This girl was too handsome to quibble with. Her newly discovered cheerfulness disturbed him. He had known in abundance women of courage, women of skill in dissimulation, but he remembered that when they were both beautiful and clever it was the part of wisdom to be upon one's guard.

Marishka glanced at Captain Goritz's well-shaped head in the seat beside her. It was to be war between them--war! A thinking machine! Was he? She smiled to herself. She knew that she had power. What handsome clever woman does not know it? Men had desired her--a Russian duke, an Italian prince. And an Austrian archduke even, braving the parental ire, had wished to marry her, willing even to sacrifice his princely prerogatives if she would have said the word. Hugh Renwick----She swallowed bravely.... But the sense of her power over men gave her a new courage to meet Captain Goritz with a smile upon her lips while she summoned in secret all her feminine instinct to aid her in the unequal struggle, a game needing both caution and daring, a game for high stakes--in which perhaps no quarter would be given.

As they approached the environs of Vienna, the car now moved at a reduced speed and boldly chose the main highroads. Twice they were stopped and examined. This showed that all the machinery of the telegraph was now in operation, but the touring car did not answer to the given description and Captain Goritz's air of surprise and annoyance was so genuine that there was little delay.

"Our friends of the Mahrische-Hohe are fortunately still frightened or else quite satisfied with the green limousine," he laughed. "We shall go through, I think."

"Shall we be in time?" asked Marishka.

The German shrugged and looked at his watch. "We shall be in Vienna in twenty minutes."

Marishka made no comment. As their journey neared its ending she realized that she was very tired, but the incentive that, had spurred her last night and all day still gave her strength to cope with whatever was to come.

"To the Embassy," Goritz whispered, "and fast!"

He had mounted again into the seat beside the chauffeur, and so Marishka did not question him, but his back was eloquent of determination. They drove boldly into the Ringstrasse and turned rapidly into a side street.

Here the machine stopped again and Captain Goritz stood at the door of the tonneau waiting for her to descend. He led the way, walking rapidly, while Marishka struggled beside him as fast as her stiffened limbs permitted.

"The Ambassador can succeed where we should fail. He must procure an interview for you. I think it may be managed unless----" He paused. "But we shall see."

Silently Marishka followed into the Metternichgasse and up the steps of the Embassy and into a lofty salon where Captain Goritz bade her wait, and disappeared. A gloomy room with dingy frescoes of impossible cupids and still more impossible roses. Roses--the _leit motif_ of her tragedy!

There were mirrors--many mirrors, all of which seemed to be reflecting her pallid face. She was weary and covered with dust, but not so weary as she was desperate. Why should she wait again, while Sophie Chotek was here--here in Vienna. Unable to remain seated, she rose and walked about the room, the eternal feminine impelling a rearrangement of her hat and veil at the long mirror near the upper end of the room. Beside her was a window which opened upon a small court. Opposite this window was another window from which came sound of voices. She listened. It was her privilege, for they were speaking of her.

"...I acted upon my own judgment, Excellency. There seemed nothing else to do. The Countess Strahni has given me her word of honor. She will keep it."

"But the telegraph----"

"Sealed----"

"Impossible!"

"I beg you to try it--at once."

"Ah--the telephone!"

Marishka heard the clicking of the instrument and the voice again asking for a number. Silence. And then,--"I do not understand...." A pause.

"_Ach--so!_" Another click and tinkle of the bell. "_Donnerwetter_, Herr Hauptmann! You are right. They say there is a temporary derangement of the system."

Another bell sounded. A door opened and shut. Then a question in the same voice.

"Graf von Mendel, the Archduke Franz reached Vienna this afternoon with the Duchess on the way to Sarajevo. Where are they now?"

Another voice replied, "I do not know, Excellency. They were at prayers in the Capuchin Church."

"When does their train leave Vienna?"

"At six--from the Staats Bahnhof--Excellency."

"It is six o'clock now," cried the other voice in dismay. "We are too late----"

Marishka heard no more. It was enough. Too late! She had failed. Her sacrifice, her atonement,--fruitless. She sank into a chair and buried her face in her hands, trying to think. But in her head was a dull chaos of sounds, echoes of her wild ride, and her body swayed as she sat. She had never fainted, but for a moment it seemed that she lost consciousness. She found herself presently staring through her fingers at the pattern in the gray aubusson carpet--and wondering where she was.

Then she heard the voices again and remembered that she must listen.

The voice of the one they called Excellency was speaking.

"_Herr Gott_, Goritz! Austria's mad archdukes! The telegraph also closed! It is unbelievable. I must send a message in code to Berlin."

"It would be delayed," said Goritz dryly.

"But something must be done----"

"If you will permit----"

"Speak."

"Excellency, this is a desperate game. I thought perhaps we should arrive in time to get a message through. But Herr Windt has wasted no time. We must suit our actions to the emergency----"

"Of course. But how?"

"Go to Sarajevo--at once."

"But I----"

"Not you, Excellency. I shall go. A railroad book, Graf Mendel, if you please. Today is the twenty-sixth. The Archduke goes by way of Budapest.

We can save several hours, I think, by way of Gratz and Agram--if there is a train tonight."

"And the Countess Strahni?"

"Your Excellency may well see her usefulness merely in telling what has happened in her efforts to reach the ear of the Duchess of Hohenberg. No word from you to Archduke Franz could be more convincing----"

"_Ja wohl_, even if I could send it----"

"And you cannot--of that I am convinced."

Another voice broke in.

"A train at eight--Excellency--by way of Oedenburg and Bruck--reaching Marburg in the morning----"

"Good!"

"And from there," added Goritz, "by automobile along the new military road through Brod. We might reach Sarajevo tomorrow night--surely by Sunday morning."

"If that would not be too late."

"It is the only thing to do."