"No, I don't mean England," replied Chester.

"Why," exclaimed the ambassador, "if it had not been for England, this
war would never have happened."

Chester looked at the ambassador sharply for a moment.

"Good night," he said at last, and fell back in his seat.

It was dusk when the train pulled into Trieste, and the party alighted.

"We shall spend the night here," the ambassador decided. "I have some
work to do."

"One place suits me as well as another, if I have to stay in this kind of
a country," said Chester.

At a hotel where they were driven in a taxi, Chester was locked in a room
on the fifth floor. It was a handsomely appointed room, and Chester would
have been content to spend the night there had he been in other
circumstances. But right now he wasn't content to spend the night in
Austria, no matter how well he was treated.

"I want to get out of this country," he told himself repeatedly. "I guess
it's a good enough country, so far as it goes, but I can plainly see it's
no place for me."

Left alone, Chester made a tour of inspection. The door was heavily
barred. He looked out the window.