“Or her hands; yes. That is the idea.”
“I understand you. Now—could one of those secret agents for the other power, by any possibility, become a member of the official family of your ambassador?”
“Why not, Mr. Carter?”
CHAPTER XXIV.
THE AMBASSADOR’S CABINET.
Nick Carter was seated in the private cabinet at the embassy, facing the ambassador.
He had just been conducted to that room, and the ambassador, a tall, stately gentleman of the inscrutable school, every inch the representative of his czar, was still standing beside his desk, with one hand resting upon it, while he bent a little forward toward the detective, devouring him with his piercing eyes.
And they were eyes which had been accustomed for years to read the characters of men of all nationalities, and of every walk in life.
Nick Carter felt at once that this tall gentleman was a power within himself, and that nothing short of an explosion of dynamite at his feet could move him out of his habitual calm.