"None," laughed Captain Martin, who for the past eight years had had but few short spells of leave. The life of a King's Messenger is, indeed, no sinecure, for constant journeys in the stuffy _wagonlits_ of the European expresses try the most robust constitution. He was a cosmopolitan of cosmopolitans, and, before entering the Foreign Office, had held a commission in the Engineers. Easy-going, popular, and a man of deepest patriotism, he was known in every Embassy in Europe, and to every sleeping-car conductor on the express routes. "And, by the way, on the mantelshelf of my room at Downing Street, Martin, you will find a small stereoscopic camera," added Lord Bracondale. "I wish you would bring it over next time you come." "Certainly," Martin replied. "Then, at eight o'clock to-night. You can leave your despatch-box here," his lordship said. So Martin, a man of polished manners, placed his little box--a steel one, with a travelling-cover of dark green canvas--upon a side table, and, wishing the Earl good-morning, withdrew, returning to Havre in the hired car to shave, wash, and idle until his return to London. Wherever Bracondale went, the problems of foreign policy followed him. During the recess members of the House may leave the country and their cares and constituencies behind them, but to the Minister for Foreign Affairs, the despatches go daily by messenger or by wire, and wherever he may be, he must attend to them. International politics brook no delay. Upon Bracondale's brow a shadow had fallen since he had scanned Charlton's letter. More trouble with Germany had arisen. But he put on a forced smile when, a moment later, he rejoined Jean, who was now standing in readiness with Miss Oliver and little Enid, the latter looking very sweet in her tiny Dutch bonnet and a little Paris-made coat of black and white check and white shoes and socks. In a few moments they were in the big, open car, and were quickly driven through the pines and out upon the sea-road until, when on the railed esplanade at St. Addresse, the car pulled up suddenly at some steps which led down to the sands. Just before he did so his lordship, addressing Jean, said: "I know you will excuse me staying with you this morning, dear, but I must attend to those despatches Martin has brought. And they will certainly take me till luncheon. So I will see you down to the beach and then go back. The car shall come for you at half-past twelve." "Oh, I'm so sorry," said Jean, regretfully. "But I know, dear, how worried you are. So I'll forgive you. I shall spend a quiet morning with a book, and Enid will enjoy herself." Then the car stopped, he got out, helped Enid and Miss Oliver down, and then gave his hand to Jean, who, with her dark cloak thrown over her white dress, looked extremely dainty, and much younger than her years.