“I trust, Mr. Duge,” the ambassador replied, “that I have always realized that.”

“I too hope so,” Duge answered.  “I told you, I think, that I had come to the conclusion that Norris Vine, not having that paper any longer in his possession, has passed it on to some other person in whom his faith is unbounded.”

“You did, I believe, mention that supposition,” Mr. Deane assented.

“I ask myself, therefore,” Phineas Duge continued, “who, amongst his friends in London, Norris Vine would be most likely to trust with the possession of a document of such vast importance.  Need I tell you the first idea which suggested itself to me!  It is for your advice that Norris Vine has crossed the ocean.  You have read the document.  You know its importance.  There would, I imagine, be no hiding place in London so secure as the Embassy safe which I see in the corner of your study!”

“You suggest, then,” Mr. Deane said slowly, “that Norris Vine has deposited that document in my keeping.”

“I not only suggest it,” Duge answered, “but I am thoroughly convinced that such is the fact.  Can you deny it?”

Mr. Deane shrugged his shoulders.

“The matter, so far as I am concerned in it,” he answered, “is a personal one between Vine and myself.  I cannot answer your question.”

Phineas Duge shook his head thoughtfully.

“That, Mr. Deane,” he said, “is where you make a great mistake.  Permit me to say that your official position should, I am sure, preclude you from taking any part in this business.  The matter, you say, is a private one.  There can be no private matters between you, the paid and accredited agent of your country, and one of its citizens.  To speak plainly, you have not the right to offer the shelter of the Embassy to the document which Norris Vine has committed to your charge.”

“How do you know that he has done so?” Deane asked.

“Call it inspiration if you like,” Duge answered.  “In any case I am sure of it.”

There was a short silence.  Then Mr. Deane rose to his feet a little stiffly.

“Perhaps you are right,” he said, “and yet I am not sure.”

“A little reflection will, I think, convince you,” Phineas Duge said quietly.  “Your retention of that document means that you take sides in the civil war which seems hanging over my country.  Further than that, it also means—­and although it pains me to say so, Mr. Deane, I assure I you say it without any ill-feeling—­a serious interruption to your career.”

The ambassador was silent for several moments.

“Mr. Duge,” he said, “I am inclined to admit that up to a certain point you have reason on your side.  It is true that I am guarding the document in question for Norris Vine, and it is also true that in doing so I am perhaps departing a little from the strict propriety which my position demands.  I will therefore return to him the document, but I should like you to understand that with every desire to retain your good will, I shall give Mr. Vine such advice with regard to the use of it as seems to me, as a private individual and a citizen of the United States, judicious.”