“If it ever does,” Phineas Duge remarked quietly.  “Well, go on about Norris Vine.”

Once more Littleson looked around the room.

“You know Dan Prince is over here?” he said softly.

Duge nodded.

“So far,” he remarked, “his being over here does not seem to have affected the situation.”

“He has made one attempt,” Littleson whispered.  “He got inside, and he had certain information that Vine was going to return that night.  Whether he had warning or not no one can tell, but he never came back.  They followed him a few nights ago across Trafalgar Square, hoping that he was going down toward the Embankment, but he took a hansom and drove to his club.  They followed, and waited for him to come out, but there was a policeman standing at the very entrance, within a foot of them.  This isn’t New York, Duge.  You can’t depend upon getting the coast clear for this sort of thing over here, and Prince will take no risks.  He is a rich man in his way, and he wants to live to enjoy his money.  He’s as clever as they make them, although he’s failed twice here.  I fancy he has something else pending.”

“And meanwhile,” Duge said quietly, “to-morrow morning’s paper may contain our damnation.”

“It may, of course,” Littleson answered.  “I don’t think so, though.  He doesn’t move a yard without being shadowed, and he hasn’t written out a cable when some one hasn’t been near his shoulder.”

“That is the position, then, so far as you know it?” Duge asked.  “Absolutely!” Littleson answered.  “I can tell you nothing more.”

Duge finished his luncheon and signed the bill.  Then he made an appointment to dine with Littleson, and sent out for an automobile.  When it arrived he was driven to the American Embassy.  At the mention of his name everything was made easy, and he found himself in a few minutes in the presence of the ambassador.

“Glad to meet you once more, Mr. Duge,” he said.  “You have forgotten me, I dare say, but I think we came across one another at a banquet in New York about four years ago.”

“I remember it perfectly,” Phineas Duge answered.  “A dull affair it was, but we talked of the Asiatic Powers and kept ourselves amused.  Since then, you see, all that I said has become justified.”

Deane smiled.

“They say that with you that is always the case,” he answered. “’Duge the Infallible’ I heard a stockbroker once call you.”

Duge smiled.

“Well,” he said, “if I remember your politics, and I think I do, you are going to try and take away that title from me.  You are amongst those, are you not, who have set themselves to dam the torrents?”

Deane shook his head a little stiffly.

“In the diplomatic service,” he said, “we have no politics.”

“Sometimes,” Duge murmured, “you come in touch with them.  For instance, I should like to know what advice you are going to give Norris Vine about the publication of that little document in his paper.”