By the time he had finished his talk with the ambassador, morning had come; and the ambassador, at the detective’s request, arose much earlier than usual, and went forth to make some purchases for Nick, since it was not safe at that time to trust another with the errand. The things he wanted were the necessities for the disguise he had determined to wear when night should fall again, and in the meantime he intended to keep very quiet indeed within the house of the ambassador. When the prince returned with the articles needed, he brought with him several of the morning papers, and Nick learned from their contents the exact status of affairs at that time. After he had discussed the matter to some further extent with the ambassador, he shut himself in a room and began to make the transformation in his appearance which now seemed so necessary. “Once there was a man who called himself Bare-Faced Jimmy,” he said to himself with a smile as he regarded his own reflection in the mirror of the room, “and now I shall proceed to bring that man—although he is in Sing Sing prison at the present moment—into this room for my especial benefit.” Much had been said about the ability of Nick Carter in the way of disguises. It was an art that his father had taught him, and which he had studied in all its branches ever since then, at every time and place where opportunity offered. One of the things that Nick Carter could do, and do well, was to make himself like another person, provided that stature and physical development were approximately the same. Nick’s first occupation in arranging the present disguise was to make a careful drawing of Jimmy, and this, when he began to manufacture the actual disguise, he pinned against the wall beside the mirror. Midnight found the detective in the vicinity of the home of Juno, Countess Narnine. He studied the dwelling for a time, and then walked away from it, satisfied that he would have no difficulty in carrying his design into execution. He satisfied himself on another point also, and that was that Juno was not only at home, but that she had denied herself to all callers; for he saw several persons approach the door of her home, only to be turned away again by the servants. “I shouldn’t wonder if the murder of Turnieff and the hue and cry after me, as a consequence of the crime, has got on her nerves,” he told himself. At two in the morning he was back again near the house. This time, watching for his opportunity, he sprang over the fence, for the house was a detached one, crept through the shrubbery, and presently approached a side door which he had selected for the beginning of his operations. He did not know that, during his absence between midnight and two o’clock, three men had called there, had been admitted, and were even at that moment in consultation with Juno in the library of her home.