It is power—supreme, absolute power! There is nothing beyond—there is nothing greater."
Then Peter, who was watching her closely, caught another gleam in her eyes, and he began to understand. He had seen it before amongst a certain type of her countrywomen—the greed of money. He looked at her jewels, and he remembered that, for an ambassador, her husband was reputed to be a poor man. The cloud of misgiving passed away from him; he settled down to the game.
"If money could only buy the desire of one's heart!" he murmured. "Alas!"
His eyes seemed to seek out Monsieur de Lamborne amongst the moving throngs. She laughed softly, and her hand brushed his.
"Money and one other thing, Monsieur le Baron," she whispered in his ear, "can buy the jewels from a crown—can buy even the heart of a woman."
A movement of approaching guests caught them up and parted them for a time. The Baroness de Grost was at home from ten till one, and her rooms were crowded. Peter found himself drawn on one side a few minutes later by Monsieur de Lamborne himself.
"I have been looking for you, de Grost," the latter declared. "Where can we talk for a moment?"
His host took the ambassador by the arm and led him into a retired corner. Monsieur de Lamborne was a tall, slight man, somewhat cadaverous-looking, with large features, hollow eyes, thin but carefully arranged grey hair, and a pointed grey beard. He wore a frilled shirt, and an eyeglass suspended by a broad, black ribbon hung down upon his chest. His face, as a rule, was imperturbable enough, but he had the air just now of a man greatly disturbed.
"We cannot be overheard here," Peter remarked. "It must be an affair of a few words only, though."
Monsieur de Lamborne wasted no time in preliminaries.
"This afternoon," he said, "I received from my Government papers of immense importance, which I am to hand over to your Foreign Minister at eleven o'clock to-morrow morning."
Peter nodded.
"Well?"
De Lamborne's thin fingers trembled as they played nervously with the ribbon of his eyeglass.
"Listen," he continued, dropping his voice a little. "Bernadine has undertaken to send a copy of their contents to Berlin by to-morrow night's mail."
"How do you know that?"
The ambassador hesitated.
"We, too, have spies at work," he remarked grimly. "Bernadine wrote and sent a messenger with the letter to Berlin. The man's body is drifting down the Channel, but the letter is in my pocket."
"The letter from Bernadine?"
"Yes."
"What does he say?"
"Simply that a verbatim copy of the document in question will be dispatched to Berlin to-morrow evening without fail," replied the ambassador.
"There are no secrets between us," Peter declared, smoothly. "What is the special importance of this document?"
De Lamborne shrugged his shoulders.
"Since you ask," he said, "I tell you. You know of the slight coolness which there has been between our respective Governments? Our people have felt that the policy of your Ministers in expending all their energies and resources in the building of a great fleet, to the utter neglect of your army, is a wholly one-sided arrangement, so far as we are concerned. In the event of a simultaneous attack by Germany upon France and England, you would be utterly powerless to render us any measure of assistance. If Germany should attack England alone, it is the wish of your Government that we should be pledged to occupy Alsace-Lorraine. You, on the other hand, could do nothing for us if Germany's first move were made against France."
Peter was deeply interested, although the matter was no new one to him.
"Go on," he directed. "I am waiting for you to tell me the specific contents of this document."
"The English Government has asked us two questions; first, how many complete army corps we consider she ought to place at our disposal in this eventuality; and, secondly, at what point should we expect them to be concentrated? The dispatch which I received to-night contains the reply to these questions."
"Which Bernadine has promised to forward to Berlin to-morrow night," Peter remarked softly.
De Lamborne nodded.
"You perceive," he said, "the immense importance of the affair. The very existence of that document is almost a casus belli."
"At what time did the dispatch arrive," Peter asked, "and what has been its history since?"
"It arrived at six o'clock," the ambassador declared. "It went straight into the inner pocket of my coat; it has not been out of my possession for a single second. Even whilst I talk to you I can feel it."
"And your plans? How are you intending to dispose of it to-night?"
"On my return to the Embassy I shall place it in the safe, lock it up, and remain watching it until morning."
"There doesn't seem to be much chance for Bernadine," Peter remarked.
"But there must be no chance—no chance at all," Monsieur de Lamborne asserted, with a note of passion in his thin voice. "It is incredible, preposterous, that he should even make the attempt. I want you to come home with me and share my vigil. You shall be my witness in case anything happens. We will watch together."
Peter reflected for a moment.
"Bernadine makes few mistakes," he said thoughtfully.
Monsieur de Lamborne passed his hand across his forehead.
"Do I not know it?" he muttered. "In this instance, though, it seems impossible for him to succeed. The time is so short and the conditions so difficult. I may count upon your assistance, Baron?"
Peter drew from his pocket a crumpled piece of paper.
"I received a telegram from headquarters this evening," he said, "with instructions to place myself entirely at your disposal."
"You will return with me, then, to the Embassy?" Monsieur de Lamborne asked eagerly.
Peter did not at once reply. He was standing in one of his characteristic attitudes, his hands clasped behind him, his head a little thrust forward, watching with every appearance of courteous interest the roomful of guests, stationary just now, listening to the performance of a famous violinist. It was, perhaps, by accident that his eyes met those of Madame de Lamborne, but she smiled at him subtly—more, perhaps, with her wonderful eyes than with her lips themselves. She was the centre of a very brilliant group, a most beautiful woman holding court, as was only right and proper, amongst her admirers. Peter sighed.
"No," he said, "I shall not return with you, de Lamborne. I want you to follow my suggestions, if you will."
"But, assuredly——"
"Leave here early and go to your club. Remain there until one, then come to the Embassy.
