"And what, if you care to tell, did he say?"

"He quite agreed with me; he even went further."

"Wise man, Harleston!" the Marquis chuckled.

"Implying that he was not sincere?"

The Marquis threw up his hands. "Perish the thought! I imply that he is
a man of rare discrimination and admirable taste."

"Now won't you please tell me, your Excellency, if you credit, no, if
you _believe_, my story--and don't be a diplomat for the telling."

"My dear Madame Clephane, I do believe your tale--it bears the impress
of truth in what you've not done, as well as in what you've done. Had
you ever been in the service you would recognize my meaning. That the
abductors did not triumph was due first to their carelessness, and
second to chance, in the person of Monsieur Harleston. He plays the
game; and is violating no rule of diplomacy by his course in the affair.
Indeed he would be recreant to his country's service were he to do
otherwise. And France would infinitely prefer the United States to have
the letter rather than Germany. It's unfortunate, but it's not as
unfortunate as it might be."

"You make me feel much, oh, so much better!" Mrs. Clephane replied. "I
feared lest my blunder could never be forgiven nor forgotten; and that
Madame Durrand would be held responsible and would never again be
trusted."