“What difference if we are?” said Mark, very warmly.  “If the Ministry can stand publicity, we can.  I am in favor of taking strong measures right now.”

“Not on your life, Griffin.  Not on your life,” said Saunders.  “You don’t seem to realize that the Padre cannot stand strong measures.  Arrest as burglars would mean publicity, and there would be all sorts of fierce stories in the press.  He is a priest—­and then some.”

“Well, what of it?”

“Sure, I know,” soothed Saunders.  “But the papers aren’t in the journalistic game for dignity, and they’d play the Padre up for all he was worth; the more yellow the story, the better.  The lady must be gotten out of the Ministry quietly.  Once we have her, it will be up to the Ministry to make the next move.  I have a hunch that His Excellency won’t make it.”

“Well,” said Mark grudgingly, “I suppose the quiet way is the better way.  What is your plan?  Why not let Father Murray know?”

“I can’t let him know, because he’d want to be in on it.  At all risks, he’s got to be kept out.  What I propose to do is to start up such a trouble in the rear of the house that, for five minutes at least, there’ll be no guard in the front.”

“You would have to set it on fire to do that.”

Saunders put his finger impressively upon a button of Mark’s pajamas.

“You’ve guessed it, first shot out of the box.  That’s just what I’m going to do.  Rather, that’s what we’re going to do.”

Mark looked at him in solemn silence.

“Saunders, what did you have to put you in this condition?”

“Plain water and a cold bath,” answered Saunders promptly.

“Then perhaps you’ll explain.”

“It’ll be easy.  They can put the fire out after the lady has gotten away.  The Minister is going to dinner to-night.  Madame Minister—­or whatever you call her—­will be with him; so will his flock of girls, and so, of course, will His Excellency’s secretary.  The rest of his staff don’t live there.  I figure that the guards, and the servants, and Miss Atheson will be the only ones in the house.  The fire will bring all but Miss Atheson to the back.  A rope ladder skillfully thrown will do the rest.  Now you see why I can’t mix the Padre up in that.  We may be arrested, though I don’t think we shall.  The Minister doesn’t want anything of that kind.  This morning I’ll flash the night escape signal to Miss Atheson.  She’ll be ready to leave, and you may be sure she’ll find a way to warn us if the guard is still around.  To-night you make an excuse to the Padre and slip away.  He’s going to see a friend anyhow at the University out in Brookland.  I heard him say so.  Tell him not to worry if you happen to be out when he comes back.  Fix it up any way you like, and we’ll make the play and win.”

“Who’s to do the ‘skillful throwing’ of the ladder?”

“A friend of mine who used to be a fireman.”