"He does not know; we did not drink at Posner's."
"That is certainly a clever imitation of my writing," said Carter, who had been carefully studying the characters on the envelope. Sobieska looked up. "You do not believe me capable of communicating with your enemies!" He appealed to the girl, whose white face was staring at the oblong packet lying on the table.
"I do not know what to believe," she said as she struggled to keep back the tears. "Open it, Sobieska." The latter complied and scanned the communication.
"This," he said, looking up gravely, "purports to be a preliminary report of Calvert Carter and Todcaster Carrick to their immediate superior in the Imperial Secret Police at Warsaw. It contains a further promise of early developments and the coming of a King to Krovitch. It is signed 'Calvert Carter.'"
Sobieska reached so suddenly forward to touch a call bell that Johann jumped. A gray-haired sergeant entered.
"A corporal and file," was Sobieska's command. Carter straightened himself haughtily. Were they going to arrest him for this forgery?
"Count Sobieska," he began indignantly, while Johann's dull eyes brightened.
"Wait, please," was the Minister's only comment.
Carter turned to Her Grace to remonstrate against such an indignity, but her head was turned from him. There were footsteps, rhythmic, orderly, at the door. It opened to admit the corporal and his men. Vividly it recalled to Carter another such scene when he was a judge and——
"Put Johann under arrest," came the curt interruption to his thoughts from the lips of Sobieska. "If you permit any one to communicate with him, it will mean a court martial for all of you," said the Minister.