“I don’t understand,” said she.
“Neither do I,” he answered; “that’s the trouble with our cousin, he is always doing queer things.”
“But he was at Lotzen Castle this morning.”
“And is in Dornlitz now;—” he shoved the wire across to Courtney.—“Dick, what do you make of this—what’s doing now?”
Courtney read it, then stared thoughtfully into his wine glass, twirling it slowly the while, the amber bubbles streaming upward.
“I make enough of it,” he said, “to urge that you hurry back to the Capital. The false Book was intended primarily to lure you here, where you could be killed more easily, but its purpose also was to get you away from Dornlitz. The first failed, because Her Highness forced Lotzen’s hand so quickly he was unprepared; the second, however, has won,—he has eluded you. I have always insisted that he hasn’t the Book, but now I am persuaded that he knows where it is, and has gone for it.”
“Let us go, Armand!” the Princess exclaimed—“let us go instantly.”
He put his hand on her arm.
“We will go, dear,” he said—“see—” and turning over the sheet, he wrote:—
“Epping,