The Duke paused, in his way across the crowded reception rooms, to speak to his host, Sir Edward Bransome, Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs. “I have just written you a line, Bransome,” he said, as they shook hands. “The chief tells me that he is going to honor us down at Devenham for a few days, and that we may expect you also.” “You are very kind, Duke,” Bransome answered. “I suppose Haviland explained the matter to you.” The Duke nodded. “You are going to help me entertain my other distinguished visitor,” he remarked. “I fancy we shall be quite an interesting party.” Bransome glanced around. “I hope most earnestly,” he said, “that we shall induce our young friend to be a little more candid with us than he has been. One can’t get a word out of Hesho, but I’m bound to say that I don’t altogether like the look of things. The Press are beginning to smell a rat. Two leading articles this morning, I see, upon our Eastern relations.” The Duke nodded. “I read them,” he said. “We are informed that the prestige and success of our ministry will entirely depend upon whether or not we are able to arrange for the renewal of our treaty with Japan. I remember the same papers shrieking themselves hoarse with indignation when we first joined hands with our little friends across the sea!” His secretary approached Bransome and touched him on the shoulder. “There is a person in the anteroom, sir,” he said, “whom I think that you ought to see.” The Duke nodded and passed on. The Secretary drew his chief on one side. “This man has just arrived from Paris, sir,” he continued, “and is the bearer of a letter which he is instructed to deliver into your hands only.” Bransome nodded. “Is he known to us at all?” he asked. “From whom does the letter come?” The young man hesitated. “The letter itself, sir, has nothing to do with France, I imagine,” he said. “The person I refer to is an American, and although I have no positive information, I believe that he is sometimes intrusted with the carrying of despatches from Washington to his Embassy. Once or twice lately I have had it reported to me that communications from the other side to Mr. Harvey have been sent by hand. It seems as though they had some objection to committing important documents to the post.” Bransome walked through the crowded rooms by the side of his secretary, stopping for a moment to exchange greetings here and there with his friends. His wife was giving her third reception of the session to the diplomatic world. “Washington has certainly shown signs of mistrust lately,” he remarked, “but if communications from them are ever tampered with, it is more likely to be on their side than ours. They have a particularly unscrupulous Press to deal with, besides political intriguers. If this person you speak of is really the bearer of a letter from there,” he added, “I think we can both guess what it is about.” The secretary nodded. “Shall I ring up Mr. Haviland, sir?” he asked.