"I have no such success to recount," she said at last, gazing up at the strong face above her with a tender smile of confidence. "I have heard from Von Salzinger, as I knew I should after that evening in--the car." "Ah!" Ruxton laid a hand firmly over one of Vita's, which rested on the arm of the chair. It was a gesture which had in it all a strong man's promise of protection. To Vita it conveyed a sensation of exquisite reassurance. "Oh, it all seems so futile," she cried, with a sudden helplessness. "I mean when you think of the terrible Secret Service which seems to know everything. No one in England except ourselves knows of such a person as Valita von Hertzwohl. As for my home, only my father knows that. I have kept it secret even from you. And yet this Von Salzinger comes to England and--calls upon me. The refuge I had so carefully prepared for my father in case of emergency is--no refuge at all. I believe I am terrified." "Tell me more." Ruxton leant forward in his chair. All satisfaction at the thought of his own affairs had died out of his expressive eyes. They were full of concern and sympathy for the woman he loved. "Where is this home? I had better know--now." Vita smiled tenderly. His trifling emphasis on the final word helped to banish something of her fears. It was the reminder of the bond between them. "It is the sweetest of aged Elizabethan farms in Buckinghamshire. It is called Redwithy Farm, and is less than two miles from Wednesford. It is the most romantically beautiful place you could find anywhere, small, but--I love it." She sighed deeply. "I was out riding when he called. I had no alternative but to see him." "Why?" The man's earnest gaze was steady. His alert mind was seeking something, nor did he know the nature of what he sought. "Because Vassilitz had admitted him in my absence. He had no right to, but--he did. I cannot--but it doesn't matter now. I simply dared not refuse to see him, so I affected cordiality and--gave him tea." Ruxton made an impatient movement. "Who is Vassilitz? What is he?" he demanded in a level tone. "My butler. He is a Pole--a German Pole. All my servants are Poles. I have known them all my----" "Ah. And you marvel at the power of the Secret Service?" The gravity of her lover's tone startled Vita. But she could not credit his suspicion. "But I have known them all my life. They are devoted to me and mine." "Then I should know them no longer. But tell me of Von Salzinger. He has found you out. It does not much matter how. The purpose of his visit. That is the important matter." It was some moments before Vita replied. A fresh terror was slowly taking possession of her. After a while, however, she pulled herself together with an effort. "He told me it was to see me. I have told you that years ago he made love to me. He pretended his visit was--to see me." "Pretended?"