"Then be a good listener while I tell my tale. It was this wise, Mr.
Harleston. Immediately after you were called away, indeed you were
scarcely out of the room, a page brought a verbal message from the
telephone operator that my maid had been found unconscious in the
corridor of the eighth floor, and carried into 821. I hurried to the
elevator. As I entered the door of 821, I was seized from behind and a
handkerchief bound over my mouth and eyes. I then was tied in a chair,
and a man's voice said that no further harm would come to me if I
remained quiet until morning. I did not see the faces of my assailants;
there were two at least, possibly three, and one I think was a woman.
My feelings and thoughts until the electrician released me may be
imagined. It seemed days and days--and was somewhat uncomfortable while
it lasted. When released I hurried down to look for you--or to write you
a note of explanation if I couldn't find you. I'm sort of becoming
accustomed to being abducted and kindred innocent amusements. I suppose
the only reason they didn't kill me is that they can't kill me more than
once; and to kill me now would be too early in the game."

"Killing is rarely done in diplomacy," observed Harleston, "except in
large numbers; when it ceases to be diplomacy and becomes war. In fact,
only bunglers resort to killing; and if the killing be known it ends
one's career in the service. To have to kill to gain an end is
conclusive evidence of incompetency. I mean, of course, among reputable
nations. There are some thugs among the lesser Powers, just as there are
thugs among the _'oi polloi_."

"Then Mrs. Spencer is an accomplished--diplomat," Mrs. Clephane
remarked.

"She is at the top of the profession,--and as a directing force she is