Part 23 (2/2)

Peter Ruff asked. ”Was it there when you came out?”

”Apparently so,” the young man answered. ”It seemed to be standing in exactly the same place as where I had left it. I put it into my breast pocket, and it was only when I arrived here that I fancied the envelope seemed lighter. I went off by myself and tore it open. There was nothing inside but half a newspaper!”

”What about the envelope?” Peter Ruff asked. ”That must have been the same sort of one as you had used or you would have noticed it?”

”It was,” the Honorable Maurice answered.

”It was a sort which you kept in your room?”

”Yes!” the young man admitted.

”The packet was changed, then, by some one in your room, or some one who had access to it,” Peter Ruff said. ”How about your servant?”

”It was his evening off. I let him put out my things and go at seven o'clock.”

”You must tell me the nature of the contents of the packet,” Peter Ruff declared. ”Don't hesitate. You must do it. Remember the alternative.”

The young man did hesitate for several moments, but a glance into his sister's appealing face decided him.

”It was our official reply to a secret communication from Russia respecting--a certain matter in the Balkans.”

Peter Ruff nodded.

”Where is Count von Hern?” he asked abruptly.

”Inside, dancing.”

”I must use a telephone at once,” Peter Ruff said. ”Ask one of the servants here where I can find one.”

Peter Ruff was conducted to a gloomy waiting room, on the table of which stood a small telephone instrument. He closed the door, but he was absent for only a few minutes. When he rejoined Lady Mary and her brother they were talking together in agitated whispers. The latter turned towards him at once.

”Do you mean that you suspect Count von Hern?” he asked, doubtfully. ”He is a friend of the Danish Minister's, and every one says that he's such a good chap. He doesn't seem to take the slightest interest in politics--spends nearly all his time hunting or playing polo.”

”I don't suspect any one,” Peter Ruff answered. ”I only know that Count von Hern is an Austrian spy, and that he took your paper! Has he been out of your sight at all since you rejoined him in the sitting room? I mean to say--had he any opportunity of leaving you during the time you were dining together, or did he make any calls en route, either on the way to the Savoy or from the Savoy here?”

The young man shook his head.

”He has not been out of my sight for a second.”

”Who is the other man--Jermyn?” Peter Ruff asked. ”I never heard of him.”

”An American--cousin of the d.u.c.h.ess. He could not have had the slightest interest in the affair.”

”Please take me into the ballroom,” Peter Ruff said to Lady Mary. ”Your brother had better not come with us. I want to be as near the Count von Hern as possible.”

They pa.s.sed into the crowded rooms, unnoticed, purposely avoiding the little s.p.a.ce where the d.u.c.h.ess was still receiving the late comers among her guests. They found progress difficult, and Lady Mary felt her heart sink as she glanced at the little jewelled watch which hung from her wrist. Suddenly Peter Ruff came to a standstill.

”Don't look for a moment,” he said, ”but tell me as soon as you can--who is that tall young man, like a Goliath, talking to the little dark woman? You see whom I mean?”

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