Ruth Atheson. She's the daughter of a grand duke. I can't tell you
the name of the Grand Duchy, but I'll say this: it isn't very far from
a certain Big Kingdom we hear a great deal about now--in fact the Duchy
is a dependency of the Big Kingdom--more than that, the so-called Ruth
Atheson is heiress presumptive to the throne. She'll some day be the
Grand Duchess."

Mark sat stunned. It was with difficulty that he could speak. He saw
a tragedy that Saunders could not see. Then he broke out:

"But you? How do you know?"

"It's my business to know--the business you don't like. I was
instructed to watch her. She got out of Europe before certain people
could reach her--"

"But," objected Mark, "how do I know you are telling the truth?"

Saunders dug into his pocket and pulled out a postal card. "This will
tell you--or the photograph on it will."

The picture was a foreign one, bearing the strange characters of a
Slavic language, such a card as is sold in every country with portraits
of reigning or distinguished personages. The facsimile signature, in a
bold feminine hand across the lower part of the picture, was "Carlotta."

"Do you believe me now, Griffin?" asked Saunders, with some sympathy
showing on his face, which fact alone saved Mark from smashing it.

"I am afraid I must, Saunders. You had better tell me the whole of