“The letter was lost when my machine ran down a messenger who had been entrusted with it,” Impey replied. “I cannot tell you now how it came to fall into my hands, but it did, and I spent last evening translating it and committing it to memory. It was rather long; if you wish I can write its purport.” The ambassador nodded his head eagerly, shoving a pad and pencil over toward the speaker. Impey took the pencil and began to write thoughtfully. A woman’s voice came softly intruding upon the silence of the ambassador’s private office. “You must pardon the stupidity of our servants, Captain Inaba.” Helen’s words were startlingly distinct, causing the ambassador to rise quickly from his chair and Impey’s pencil to stop suddenly and then fall upon the desk with a sharp click, while his hand crumpled the paper on which it had been writing. “The idea of his not announcing you at once; father is there in the office, I am sure.” Impey gazed wildly about him. His face had gone quite white and the usual sang-froid of his manner had evaporated. No avenue of escape seemed possible. The next moment the door was opened and Helen’s voice announced the Japanese naval officer. “Captain Inaba was wandering around like a lost soul in the hall,” she exclaimed smilingly. “I didn’t know our servants could be so stupid.” She caught sight of Mr. Impey and noticed for the first time the strained attitude of the two men. “Oh,” she exclaimed, a catch in her breath. She turned to Captain Inaba; he was standing straight, with military precision, on the threshold, waiting the pleasure of the ambassador to be invited to enter. His sphinx-like face betrayed nothing. With an impatient toss of her head and a displeased frown she quickly withdrew, walking in stately fashion from the room. In the big vestibule she discovered the two midshipmen. They had just arrived and were taking off their overcoats. She went quickly to greet them, a relieved smile on her face. “What on earth is the matter?” she exclaimed suddenly, for there was an atmosphere of gloom in their solemn faces. “Tell me at once. I am not a child to be kept in ignorance. Is it the sailor fight in the theatre--for I read that hours ago in the newspaper?” “Is the ambassador at home?” Phil asked, ignoring her question. His voice was anxious and his manner studied. “Yes, but he is with Mr. Impey and Captain Inaba, so you had best come with me to the library and wait until they go,” she replied, annoyed at the evident secrecy in which she did not share. “Mr. Impey, Captain Inaba!” both midshipmen exclaimed, casting inquiring glances at each other. “Well, why not Mr. Impey and Captain Inaba?” Helen’s voice betrayed her irritation. “Neither one is a very dangerous person to have in the house. You look as if you thought they were both anarchists.” The lads allowed themselves to be led into the library, while Helen sank down on the divan, motioning them to chairs near by.