“Of course.  But could no one here save him the trouble of going all the way back to Germany?”

The Duke grew desperate.  He was in a corner where he must either tell a lie of some sort or let the cat out of the bag.  The Duke was a cynical and worldly man enough, perhaps, as the times go, but he did not tell lies.  He plunged.

“My dear Countess,” he said, facing towards her and stroking his whiskers, “I really know something about Dr. Claudius, and I will tell you all I am at liberty to tell; please do not ask me anything else.  Claudius is really gone to obtain papers from Heidelberg as well as for another purpose which I cannot divulge.  The papers might have been dispensed with, for I could have sworn to him.”

“Then the other object is the important one,” said the Countess pensively.  The Duke was silent.  “I am greatly obliged to you,” Margaret continued, “for what you have told me.”

“I will tell you what I can do,” said the Englishman after a pause, during which an unusual expression in his face seemed to betoken thought.  “I am going to the West for a couple of months to look after things, and of course accidents may happen.  Claudius may have difficulty in getting what he wants, and I am the only man here who knows all about him.  He satisfied me of his identity.  I will, if you like, sign a statement vouching for him, and leave it in your hands in case of need.  It is all I can do.”

“In my hands?” exclaimed Margaret, drawing herself up a little.  “And why in my hands, Duke?” The Duke got very red indeed this time, and hesitated.  He had put his foot into it through sheer goodness of heart and a desire to help everybody.

“Aw—­a—­the—­the fact is, Countess,” he got out at last, “the fact is, you know, Claudius has not many friends here, and I thought you were one of them.  My only desire is—­a—­to serve him.”

Margaret had quickly grasped the advantage to Claudius, if such a voucher as the Duke offered were kept in pickle as a rod for his enemies.

“You are right,” said she, “I am a good friend of Dr. Claudius, and I will keep the paper in case of need.”

The Duke recovered his equanimity.

“Thank you,” said he.  “I am a very good friend of his, and I thank you on his behalf, as I am sure he will himself.  There’s one of our Foreign Office clerks here for his holiday; I will get him to draw up the paper as he is an old friend of mine—­in fact, some relation, I believe.  By Jove! there goes Barker.”  The latter exclamation was caused by the sudden appearance of the man he named on the opposite side of the avenue, in conversation with the two young gentlemen whom the Duke had already noticed as preparing to mount their dogcart.

“Oh,” said Margaret indifferently, in response to the exclamation.

“Yes,” said the Duke, “it is he.  I thought he was in New York.”

“No,” said the Countess, “he has just called.  It was his card they brought me just as you came.  He wants me to drive with him this afternoon.”