His eyes were snapping with excitement, and amazement grew in his face.

"Who is John Armitage?" demanded Durand sharply; but Chauvenet stared at
him in stupefaction for a tense moment, then muttered to himself:

"Is it possible? Is it possible?" and his voice was hoarse and his hand
trembled as he picked up the cigarette case.

"My dear Jules, you act as though you had seen a ghost. Who the devil is
Armitage?"

Chauvenet glanced about the room cautiously, then bent forward and
whispered very low, close to Durand's ear:

"Suppose he were the son of the crazy Karl! Suppose he were Frederick
Augustus!"

"Bah! It is impossible! What is your man Armitage like?" asked Durand
irritably.

"He is the right age. He is a big fellow and has quite an air. He seems
to be without occupation."

"Clearly so," remarked Durand ironically. "But he has evidently been
watching us. Quite possibly the lamented Stroebel employed him. He may
have seen Stroebel here--"

Chauvenet again struck the table smartly.

"Of course he would see Stroebel! Stroebel was the Archduke's friend;