Armitage in the meantime had placed the car in the garage, entered the house by the servants' door, and was now sitting in his stocking feet, smoking a pipe, waiting for quiet to fall upon the house. His nerves were still taut with the events of the evening; his mind very much awake and alert. He thrilled with the thought that in all probability he would have a commendatory letter from the Admiral to send to his father and that a duplicate would be published to the fleet. As for his position in the house, that was hourly growing more precarious. So far as he could gather, almost every one but the Prince and the Wellington boys knew his identity, and it certainly could not be long before this ignorant minority would be wiped out. There must be action, and quick action. With the Prince away for the night the opportunity could never be better. He was bent now on taking advantage of it. It was nearly three o'clock when he left his room, walked along the heavily carpeted hall, and descended the stairs in the front of the house to the second floor. The dim light was flowing from the hall below but no lamps were lighted above. He turned, crouching, and made his way along toward Koltsoff's rooms. Footsteps sounded on the stairs and as he flattened himself against the wall the skirts of a woman fluttered past him. A second later the door of Miss Wellington's rooms opened and in the light rushing forth, he saw Anne enter. She was weeping. He heard the exclamation of the maid and Anne saying something in reply. Then the door closed. For five minutes Armitage remained immovable. Then taking from his pocket a skeleton key and a long thin roll of wire he crept to Koltsoff's door, which he had marked in the afternoon. As he placed his hand on the knob it turned in his grasp and opened. There was a single electric bulb, burning in a crimson globe, and although Armitage had time to jump back, the light flowing from the open door fell full upon him. He stood breathing quickly, watching the newcomer, his forearm poised along his waist, the fist doubled. Without a word, the man slowly closed the door. As Armitage waited an electric dark-light flashed in his face with blinding suddenness. Then it went out. "Not now," came a whispered voice, "Prince Koltsoff has returned. He has but gone into his room." Jack did not reply. His hand shot into his pocket and came out with a dark-light similar to that which had been used against him. As he aimed the instrument and pressed the spring a brown seamed face with a head of heavy dark hair appeared in the centre of the illumination. "Let us have done with lights; they are not necessary," said the man. The voice was cultivated, the manner gentle. "And besides, they are not safe." "What do you want?" Armitage's voice rose with an impatient inflection.