Beyond the door he reviewed the situation. His position was by no means enviable, but it was not without possibilities. He realized now that the hand of Fate had pointed through the whole affair. He knew that he had had no suspicion of Hertzwohl in Borga. A thought of treachery had never entered his head. Hertzwohl had piqued him. He had seriously offended him, as, long ago, this same man's daughter had offended his pride. He had intended merely to retaliate through his official capacity, and now through these trivial pettinesses a deadly plot had been revealed. He had answered the summons to Kuhlhafen intending to defend himself by casting suspicion upon Hertzwohl, and his defence had turned out to be the true estimate of the matter. Well---- But his reflections were cut short by the summons to return to the council-chamber. Von Berger held the iron-studded door for him to enter, and, as he passed within, he closed and carefully secured it. Then he came back to his place at the table, and his companion signed for him to proceed. He faced the waiting officer. "Captain-General von Salzinger, you are to be degraded from your rank and office. You will be relieved of command at Borga at once. You will then report to the Foreign Office, where you will receive sealed instructions. On receipt of these instructions you will proceed to London without delay. When you have completed the work allotted to you in England--satisfactorily--you will receive your reinstatement. That is all." CHAPTER XIII NEWS The atmosphere of the little study, or library, or whatever it was called, in which Ruxton carried on the private work of his political calling, in the diminutive house in Smith Square, Westminster, was redolent with that delightful suggestion of the old world so dear to the collector's heart. Its owner was a collector by instinct and training. He had been brought up to the study of old-world art, and had learned to appreciate the beauties of all those delicate and priceless specimens which are the handicraft of bygone genius. But he was no keeper of a museum. His little home in the purlieus of Westminster was a storehouse of beauty and charm. Every piece of furniture, every tapestry, every rug, every metal gem was full of significance and harmony with its setting. Not one detail of this home but had cost him hours of thought and consideration, and the result was all he asked, a perfectly harmonious whole, a creation of all that made for undemonstrative artistry in his nature.