Nevertheless, it was a serious check. He could not for the moment see his way farther. Arrived at his house, he followed his usual custom, and made his way at once to his wife's rooms. Violet was resting upon a sofa, but laid down her book at his entrance. "Violet," he declared, "I have come for your advice." "He refuses, then?" she asked eagerly. "Absolutely," de Grost assured her. "What am I to do? Bernadine is already upon the scent. He saw him at the Savoy to-day and recognised him." "Has Bernadine approached him yet?" Violet inquired. "Not yet," her husband answered. "He is half afraid to move. I think he realises, or will do very soon, how serious this man's existence may be for Germany." Violet was thoughtful for several moments; then she looked up. "Bernadine will try the woman," she asserted. "You say that Hagon is infatuated?" "Blindly," de Grost replied. "He scarcely lets her out of his sight." "Your people watch Bernadine?" "Always." "Very well, then," Violet went on, "you will find that he will attempt an intrigue with the woman. The rest should be easy for you." De Grost sighed as he bent over his wife. "My dear," he said, "there is no subtlety like that of a woman." * * * * * Bernadine's instinct had not deceived him, and the following afternoon his servant, who had already received orders, silently ushered Madame Hagon into his apartments. She was wrapped in magnificent sables and heavily veiled. Bernadine saw at once that she was very nervous and wholly terrified. He welcomed her in as matter-of-fact a manner as possible. "Madame," he declared, "this is quite charming of you! You must sit in my easy-chair here, and my man shall bring us some tea. I drink mine always after the fashion of your country, with lemon, but I doubt whether we make it so well. Won't you unfasten your jacket? I am afraid my rooms are rather warm." Madame had collected herself, but it was quite obvious that she was unused to adventures of this sort. Her hand, when he took it, trembled, and more than once she glanced furtively toward the door. "Yes, I have come," she murmured. "I do not know why. It is not right for me to come; yet there are times when I am weary--times when Paul seems fierce, and when I am terrified. Sometimes I even wish that I were back----" "Your husband seems very highly strung," Bernadine remarked. "He has doubtless led an exciting life." "As to that," she replied, gazing around her now, and gradually becoming more at her ease, "I know but little. He was a student professor at Moschaume when I met him. I think that he was at one of the universities in St. Petersburg." Bernadine glanced at her covertly. It came to him as an inspiration that the woman did not know the truth. "You are from Russia, then, after all," he said, smiling. "I felt sure of it."