Charred Wood

"Suppose we place this matter, then," said the priest, "where the answer will come in response to a demand? There is still the British Embassy and the Department of State."

"It will be plain to you, Reverend Sir," said the secretary, "that such a course would not be of assistance. Frankly, we do not want publicity; but, certainly, neither does your Department of State. In fact, I think that this affair might offer considerable embarrassment to the President himself at this time. And you? Would you wish the reporters to hear of it and have it published with all possible embellishments and sent broadcast? A few days will not be long in passing. I can vouch for the fact that the lady is quite comfortable. Why not see it from His Excellency's point of view?"

"Just what is that point of view?"

"I will be frank. You gentlemen know the situation. His Excellency's entire career is at stake. If this lady is the Grand Duchess and she does not go back to her throne--"

"Her throne?" Mark broke out in astonishment.

"Her father is dead. She is the reigning Grand Duchess, though she does not know it yet. You see the situation? His Excellency must be sure."

"But how does he mean to arrive at certainty?" asked Father Murray.

"That will be our task."

"And in the meantime?"

"She is safe."

"And if we seek the Department of State?"

"It will be the word of the minister from a friendly power against yours--and they will not find the lady."

"You would not--"

"They will not find the lady."

"Then," Mark spoke fiercely. "You have not kept your word."

"We have. She is safe, and shall be safe. Patience, if you please, and all will be well."

"It looks," said Father Murray, "as though we had no other choice."

Mark glanced at the priest, astonished that he should acquiesce so easily, but Father Murray gave him a quick, meaning look.

"That, Reverend Sir," answered the secretary, "is true. Since you see it so, I will bid you good day--to meet you again, shortly."

Scarcely had the secretary left the room when Father Murray was at the telephone calling Saunders.

"Come down," he directed, "at once."

Saunders was with them before either Mark or the priest spoke again.

"Well?" Saunders lost no time.

Father Murray gave him an outline of what had passed. Mark said nothing. A picture of despair, he was sitting with his head bowed upon his breast.

"And now, Mr. Saunders," said Father Murray, "it is your business to counsel--to be a real detective. What do you suggest?"