"You--you don't mean Miss Tilly?"

"I do. She is to give notice to Jones to-day. There are more ways than one of getting even with a scurvy caitiff. In this case, I take old Jones's best waitress away from him, and, praise God, he'll never find another that will stick to him for eighteen years as she has done."

O'Dowd returned late in the afternoon. He was in a hurry to get back to Green Fancy; there was no mistaking his uneasiness. He drew Barnes aside.

"For the love of Heaven, Barnes, get her away from here as soon as possible, and do it as secretly as you can," he said. "I may as well tell you that she is in more danger from the government secret service than from any one up yonder. Understand, I'm not pleading guilty to anything, but I shall be far, far away from here meself before another sunrise. That ought to mean something to you."

"But she has done no wrong. She has not laid herself liable to--"

"That isn't the point. She has been up there with us, and you don't want to put her in the position of having to answer a lot of nasty questions they'll be after asking her if they get their hands on her. She might be weeks or months clearing herself, innocent though she be. Mind you, she is as square as anything; she is in no way mixed up with our affairs up there. But I'm giving you the tip. Sneak her out as soon as you can, and don't leave any trail."

"She may prefer to face the music, O'Dowd. If I know her at all, she will refuse to run away."

"Then ye'll have to kidnap her," said the Irishman earnestly. "There will be men swarming here from both sides of the border by to-morrow night or next day. I've had direct information. The matter is in the hands of the people at Washington and they are in communication with Ottawa this afternoon. Never mind how I found it out. It's the gospel truth, and--it's going to be bad for all of us if we're here when they come."

"Who is she, O'Dowd? Man to man, tell me the truth. I want to know just where I stand."

O'Dowd hesitated, looked around the tap-room, and then leaned across the table.

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"She is the daughter of Andreas Mara-Dafanda, former minister of war in the cabinet of Prince Bolaroz the Sixth. Her mother was first cousin to the Prince. Both father and mother are dead. And for that matter, so is Bolaroz the Sixth. He was killed early in this war. His brother, a prisoner in Austria, as you may already know, is the next in line for the throne,--if the poor devil lives to get it back from the Huns. Miss Cameron is in reality the Countess Therese Mara- Dafanda--familiarly and lovingly known in her own land as the Countess Ted. She was visiting in this country when the war broke out. If it is of any use to you, I'll add that she would be rich if Aladdin could only come to life and restore the splendours of the demolished castle, refill the chests of gold that have been emptied by the conquerors, and restock the farms that have been pillaged and devastated. In the absence of Aladdin, however, she is almost as poor as the ancient church-mouse. But she has a fortune of her own. Two of the most glorious rubies in the world represent her lips; her eyes are sapphires that put to shame the rocks of all the Sultans; when she smiles, you may look upon pearls that would make the Queen of Sheba's trinkets look like chinaware; her skin is of the rarest and richest velvet; her hair is all silk and a yard wide; and, best of all, she has a heart of pure gold. So there you are, me man. Half the royal progeny of Europe have been suitors for her hand, and the other half would be if they didn't happen to be of the same sex."




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