Kearns stood gazing intently at the corpse; then raised his eyes to glance about him for possible clews as to the quarter whence death had been dealt. But the King again drew his attention. “Read!” he said, extending to Kearns the scroll he held in his hand. Kearns took the paper, which was thick and heavy and was rolled in the form of a cylinder. Unfolding it he read: _The bullet which pierces your dog’s heart might as readily have reached yours. Heed the warnings given while it is yet time. The hour fast approaches._ Kearns slowly read the document, refolded it carefully and, still holding it in his hand, addressed the King. “I’d like to keep this,” he said, “for further examination. I can’t tell but it may contain a clew.” “As you will,” answered the King abstractedly. “You note what is said: As the bullet pierced the dog’s heart, so might it have pierced ours. And it’s true,” he added with a shudder, “horribly true! As the late Czar of Russia, Zoldau the First, foully perished, so----” Lord Ashley hastily interrupted. “You forget, Sire,” he exclaimed, “that while it’s true His Majesty, the late Czar, Zoldau the First, died suddenly while asleep, yet it was officially certified to by the Court physicians that he died of acute indigestion superinduced by----” “A dagger, driven through his heart while he slept,” interposed the King. “Yes,” he added with ghastly irony, “such things usually are acutely indigestible.” “Sire,” said Lord Ashley, “there are certain State secrets which His Grace, the Lord Chancellor, would, I know, highly disapprove being disclosed. It is not well that such rumors----” “Rumors!” exclaimed the King with violence, “think you, Milord, that these things are safely locked within the walls of the Chancellery! Think you that such secrets are securely hidden? that they are not whispered about among the people? Ah, don’t deceive yourself. But what care we as to this! All the efforts of our officers, our soldiers, our Secret Service have failed to protect us from these visitations. We would that he,” and he turned to Kearns, “should know all that he may fully grasp the necessities of the situation and measure the danger.” Lord Ashley bowed a respectful acquiescence. “It’s horrible--horrible!” continued the King with nervous energy. “It’s easy enough to face death in a charge against the enemy as you soldiers face it, but to wait and watch day after day, day after day, never knowing from what quarter death may be creeping upon you from some lurking assassin--ah, that’s different. It’s horrible--horrible!” Kearns looked upon the King and a feeling akin to pity came into his heart. In the course of his varied career, he had seen men in a similar predicament and he well knew that this constant fear of attack from some mysterious and unknown quarter was a situation such as to wring the stoutest heart. The King drew himself together with a strong effort. “Whence came this shot?” he asked again turning to Kearns.