Bellamy drew a long breath.

"My God, but this is wonderful!" he muttered. "How long is it
since you left the Palace?"

"About ten minutes or a quarter of an hour," Dorward answered.

"They'll find it out at once," declared the other. "They'll miss
the paper. Perhaps he'll tell them himself that he has given it to
you. Don't let us run any risks, Dorward. Tear it open. Let us
know the truth, at any rate. If you have to part with the document,
we can remember its contents. Out with it, man, quick!. They may
be here at any moment."

Dorward drew a few steps back. Then he shook his head.

"I guess not," he said firmly.

Bellamy regarded his friend in blank and uncomprehending amazement.

"What do you mean?" he exclaimed. "You're not going to keep it to
yourself? You know what it means to me - to England?"

"Your old country can look after herself pretty well," Dorward
declared. "Anyhow, she'll have to take her chance. I am not here
as a philanthropist. I am an American journalist, and I'll part to
nobody with the biggest thing that's ever come into any man's bands."

Bellamy, with a tremendous effort, maintained his self-control.