As they swung into Sixteenth Street, a taxi standing before St. John's
Episcopal Church followed them; and Mrs. Clephane recognized Harleston
as its occupant.

At the French Embassy she descended and rang the bell, and was instantly
admitted by a liveried footman.

"I wish to see his Excellency the Ambassador!" she said, speaking in
French.

The flunky took her card and bowed her into a small reception room.

After a moment or so a dapper young man entered, her card in his
fingers.

"Messes Cleephane?" he inquired.

"I am Mrs. Clephane," she replied in French. "I wish to see his
Excellency the Ambassador on a most important matter."

"You have an appointment with his Excellency?" he asked, this time in
French.

"You are--" she inflected.

"His secretary, madame," the young man bowed.

"No, I have not an appointment," she replied, "but I come from Madame
Durrand who was the bearer of a cipher letter from the Foreign Minister.