Festetics, a leading house in Hungary. Also, she was one of those
marvelously beautiful women peculiar to that country. Waving a small
jeweled hand, she begged me to take a chair beside her. A cigarette
was daintily poised in her fingers.

"Be seated, Mr. Van Huit of Transvaal," gazing at me with a roguish
grin.

We both burst out laughing. Of course she knew what I was. Von
Wedel's card showed her that. But, as her next words plainly showed,
she knew a great deal more.

"I've got a badly sprained ankle, Doctor. Can you do anything for
me?"

I must have shown a pretty stupid face, for she laughed amusedly
again. I certainly was surprised, for up to now I had never met her,
and my being a doctor was known only to one or two persons in the
Service. Besides, it is strictly a rule of the Imperial Secret
Service never to discuss or divulge personal matters. Her attitude by
no means pleased me. I cordially hate anyone, especially women,
knowing more than I do. One never knows where one is standing in a
case like this. I decided not to show my curiosity, but I was
determined to learn how she knew about me. Coolly I said:

"Well, Countess, you have somewhat of an advantage. But if I can be
of any assistance to you, pray command me."

As answer, she sprang up, and pirouetting around the room, exclaimed: