The bull fighter paused to bow low to the Queen, then to the King.  At last he spoke with some diffidence.

“I have taken the very great liberty,” he said, “of making the Duke Louis Delgado an enforced guest on the yacht—­where he awaits Your Majesty’s pleasure.”

CHAPTER XIX

THE JACKAL TAKES THE TRAIL

“When the Duke avowed himself to be kidnaped, he committed an error so grave that it can hardly be—­overestimated.”  The speaker used the last word as an afterthought.  His first inclination was to say, forgiven.

Monsieur Jusseret sat upright in the brougham, scorning the supporting cushions at his back.  His small, shrewd eyes frowned his deep disapproval over the roofs of Algiers outspread below him.  He scowled on the gaudy and tatterdemalion color of the native city.  He scowled on the smart brilliancy of the French quarter basking along the Place du Government and the Boulevard de la Republique.

The Countess Astaride leaned back and smiled from the depths of the cushions.

“It is usually a mistake to be made a prisoner,” she smiled.

“But such a foolish mistake,” quarreled Jusseret.  “To permit oneself to be lured into so palpable a trap.  It is most absurd.”

“Now that it is done,” inquired the woman, “is it not almost as absurd to waste time deploring the spilled milk?  We must find a way to set him free.”

“I have done all that could be done.  I have stationed men whom I can trust throughout Puntal and Galavia.  They are men Karyl likewise thinks he can trust.  The distinction is that I know—­where he merely thinks.”

“And these men—­what have they done?” The Countess laid one gloved hand eagerly on the Frenchman’s coat-sleeve.

“These men have gradually and quietly reorganized the army, the bureaucracy, the very palace Guard.  We have undermined the government’s power, until when the word is passed to strike the blow, a honey-combed system will crumble under its own weight.  When Karyl calls on his troops, not one man will respond.  Well—­” Jusseret smiled dryly—­“perhaps I overstate the case.  Possibly one man will.  I think we will hardly convert Von Ritz.”

“Ah, that is good news, Monsieur.”  The Countess breathed the words with a tremor of enthusiasm.

“It is, however, all useless, Madame—­since His Grace is unavailable.  In captivity he is absolutely valueless.”

“In captivity he has a stronger claim upon our loyalty than in power!”

The dark-room diplomat regarded her with a disappointed smile.

“For a clever woman, Comptesse, who has heretofore played the game so brilliantly, you have grown singularly unobservant.  I am not a crusader, liberating captive Christian knights.  I am France’s servant, playing a somewhat guileful game which is as ancient as Ulysses, and subject to certain definite rules.”