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Fenn!" she exclaimed. "I mean it," he assured her. "As you know, a chairman must be elected this week, and that chairman, of course, will hold more power in his hand than any emperor of the past or any sovereign of the present. That leader is going to stop the war. He is going to bring peace to the world. It is a mighty post, Miss Abbeway." "It is indeed," she agreed.
"Miss Abbeway, you will, I trust, accept my apologies for our intrusion upon you. I regret that any guest of mine should have been subjected to a suspicion so outrageous." Catherine laughed softly. "Not outrageous really, dear Lord Maltenby," she said.
"Yet would you believe," he went on, leaning across the table and neglecting for a moment his dinner, "would you believe, Miss Abbeway, that out of the twenty representatives chosen from the Trades Unions governing the principal industries of Great Britain, there is not a single one who does not consider himself eligible for the post."
"Here, what's that?" he exclaimed. "The Bishop, and Miss Abbeway, we all know, are outside the running. Mr. Furley, too, represents the educated Socialists, and though he is with us in this, he is not really Labour. But Mr. Orden Paul Fiske, eh? That's a different matter, isn't it?" "Mr. Orden," Fenn pronounced slowly, "is a literary man. He is a sympathiser with our cause, but he is not of it."
"This may be a short cut back to the Hall," he exclaimed, "but except for the view of the sea and this gorgeous air, I think I should have preferred the main road! Help me up, Orden. Isn't it somewhere near here that that little affair, happened the other night?" "This very spot," Julian assented. "Miss Abbeway and I were just speaking of it." They both glanced towards her.
We're superstitious, you know, we north country folk, and we are all for instincts. All I can say to you is that there isn't one of those three I'd trust around the corner." "Miss Abbeway is surely above suspicion?" Julian protested. "She has given up a great position and devoted the greater part of her fortune towards the causes which you and I and all of us are working for."
"Who's outside?" he demanded. "The Bishop and Mr. Furley. Great though my confidence is in you both, I scarcely ventured to come here alone." The approaching footsteps were plainly audible. Fenn shrugged his shoulders with a desperate attempt at carelessness. "I don't know what is in your mind, Miss Abbeway," he said. "You can scarcely believe that you, at any rate, were in danger at our hands."
The penholder which he was grasping snapped in his fingers. Nevertheless, his voice still performed its office. "My dear Miss Abbeway," he protested, "who or what has been putting these ideas into your head?" "A veritable chance," she replied, "brought me yesterday afternoon into contact with a man a neutral who is supposed to be very intimately acquainted with what goes on in Germany."
"Some day," he retorted, a little grimly, "I am going to have a very serious talk with you, Miss Abbeway." "Shall you be very stern?" He made no response to her lighter mood. The appeal in her eyes left him colder than ever. "I wish to save your life," he declared, "and I mean to do it. At the same time, I cannot forget your crime or my complicity in it."
"Her father," the Countess replied, "was Colonel Richard Abbeway, who seems to have been military attache at St. Petersburg, years ago. He married a sister of the Princess Torski's husband, and from her this young woman inherited a title which she won't use and a large fortune. Colonel Abbeway was killed accidentally in the Russo-Japanese War, and her mother died a few years ago."
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