Saunders closed the half-opened door and walked back into the room.
"Protect her? I don't understand," he said. Clearly bewildered, he sat down, carelessly swinging one leg over an arm of the big chair, and stared at his host.
Mark looked up. He spoke haughtily, with a slight shrug of the shoulders.
"There is a British Ambassador in Washington. You have a free country, so I can always talk to him, even if I am a prisoner or on bail. I happen to be brother to a baron; that fact may prove useful, for the first time in my life. One word that involves her name in scandal, even as Ruth Atheson, brings the story out. And Great Britain does not particularly care about your certain Big Kingdom. I am presuming, of course, that I have rightly guessed what Big Kingdom is looking after the interests of your Grand Duchy."
"You're right, Griffin; the Ministry could never let her name be mentioned."
"As the grand duchess, no. But they could mention the name of Ruth Atheson, the Padre's friend, the Lady Bountiful of his poor, the girl I love. The Padre has had trouble enough, too, without that scandal in his little flock."
"I don't see how you can avoid it."
"Oh, I can avoid it very simply. I can send word to the Ministry in question that I know who the lady really is, and that I am almost ready to talk for the public."
"That's right, Griffin, you could. Gee, what a detective you would have made! You're sure right." He arose, stretched lazily, and walked to the door, where he turned, his hand on the knob. "If it's any consolation for you to know, Griffin, they won't arrest--they'll just stick a knife into you. Good night, and pleasant dreams."
"Good night, Saunders, and thanks for your cheerful assurances."
But Mark had no dreams at all for, left alone, he smoked and worried over his problem until morning.
Very early he wrote a long letter, sealed it and put it in his pocket so that he could register it in person. It was addressed to the British Ambassador.
As Mark passed on his way to the dining room, the hotel clerk gave him a note, remarking: "That's a bad-looking hand you have, Mr. Griffin."
"Yes, rather." Mark looked at his hand as though noticing its condition for the first time. Then he spoke consolingly. "But it was the only one I had to put on this morning. Pleasant outside, isn't it?"
But the clerk had suddenly discovered that his attention was needed elsewhere, and Mark proceeded to his breakfast.