“Dining alone with the Baroness von Haase!” his junior continued.  “A Court favourite, too!  Never been seen alone before except with her young princeling.  What honeyed words did you use, Lothario—­”

“Oh, chuck it!” Norgate interrupted.  “Tell me about the Baroness von Haase!  She is Austrian, isn’t she?”

Ansell nodded.

“Related to the Hapsburgs themselves, I believe,” he said.  “Very old family, anyhow.  They say she came to spend a season here because she was a little too go-ahead for the ladies of Vienna.  I must say that I’ve never seen her out without a chaperon before, except with Prince Karl.  They say he’d marry her—­morganatically, of course—­if they’d let him, and if the lady were willing.  If you want to know anything more about her, go into Gray’s room.”

Norgate looked up from his letters.

“Why Gray’s room?  How does she come into his department?”

Ansell shook his head.

“No idea.  I fancy she is there, though.”

Norgate left the room a few minutes later, and, strolling across the hall of the Embassy, made his way to an apartment at the back of the house.  It was plainly furnished, there were bars across the window, and three immense safes let into the wall.  An elderly gentleman, with gold-rimmed spectacles and a very benevolent expression, was busy with several books of reference before him, seated at a desk.  He raised his head at Norgate’s entrance.

“Good morning, Norgate,” he said.

“Good morning, sir,” Norgate replied.

“Anything in my way?”

Norgate shook his head.

“Chief’s gone to the Palace—­no one knows why.  I just looked in because I met a woman the other day whom Ansell says you know something about—­Baroness von Haase.”

“Well?”

“Is there anything to be told about her?” Norgate asked bluntly.  “I dined with her last night.”

“Then I don’t think I would again, if I were you,” the other advised.  “There is nothing against her, but she is a great friend of certain members of the Royal Family who are not very well disposed towards us, and she is rather a brainy little person.  They use her a good deal, I believe, as a means of confidential communication between here and Vienna.  She has been back and forth three or four times lately, without any apparent reason.”

Norgate stood with his hands in his pockets, frowning slightly.

“Why, she’s half an Englishwoman,” he remarked.

“She may be,” Mr. Gray admitted drily.  “The other half’s Austrian all right, though.  I can’t tell you anything more about her, my dear fellow.  All I can say is that she is in my book, and so long as she is there, you know it’s better for you youngsters to keep away.  Be off now.  I am decoding a dispatch.”

Norgate retraced his steps to his own room.  Ansell glanced up from a mass of passports as he entered.

“How’s the Secret Service Department this morning?” he enquired.