So, once again, had the Powers, in the interest of European peace, struck up the swords.

As we drove from the station to the Embassy we observed flags flying from almost every house, and that the public buildings were lavishly decorated.

“Peace seems to be well received,” I remarked.

“It’s the King’s birthday,” Courtney answered.

“And a very happy one, I fancy.”

Courtney stared at me.  “How so?” he said.

“He can now both keep his daughter and be rid of Murdol.”

“The Princess is saved, of course, but in deference to the national self-respect, he dare give up Murdol only in one contingency:—­if Titia can be persuaded to pay a money value for it.  Which I doubt.”

I said nothing.  I, too, doubted.

“However, it’s not important to us,” said he.  “Whatever the outcome the lady will be here long enough for you to lose the wager.”

“Damn the wager,” I exclaimed.

“Damn everything you have a mind to, my dear fellow,” he encouraged.

“And you in particular,” I said.

“Wherefore, my dear Major?” he laughed.

“For suggesting this fool thing.”

“Poor boy!  I should have regarded your youthful impetuosity.”

I shrugged my shoulders.

“And grey hairs,” he added.

“I’ve a mind to toss you out of the carriage,” said I.

“Do it,—­and save me the trouble of getting myself out,” he answered; and then we drew under the porte cochere at the Embassy.

The matter of a residence had not bothered Courtney.  He simply took General Russell’s lease off his hands, and twenty thousand a year rent with it.  I was to live at the Legation, there being no Ambassadorial women folks to make the staff de trop.  Naturally, I was quite satisfied.  It was a bit preferable to hotel hospitality.  And, then, the assistants were good fellows.

Cosgrove, who had been First Secretary for ten years, was from the estate next my own on the Eastern Shore.  It was through him I had been able to preserve my incog. so securely during my former visits to Valeria.  And if he had any curiosity as to my motives, he was courteous enough never to show it.  “The best assistant in Europe,” Courtney had once pronounced him.

Then there was Pryor, the Naval Attache.  He had been off “cruising with the Army,” as Cosgrove put it, pending my arrival and was not yet returned to Dornlitz.  The others of the office force were young fellows,—­rich boys, either in presente or futuro,—­who, likely, could only be depended upon to do the wrong thing.  Being fit for nothing at home, therefore, they had been considered to be particularly well qualified for the American diplomatic service.