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 would be undesirable for your chauffeur to drive across wide open spaces, where bullets—but let's not be alarmist. It is only that I am personally responsible to the Department."

"Nonsense!" cried Nyla, giving her father a hug. "No one would want to hurt my adorable Daddy."

"Alas, Fräulein, the payment of the war debts implies heavy taxation; and heavy taxation always means a certain amount of gunning for statesmen."

"There's rather a nasty place in the Red Room," said Guadeloupe nervously. "A window where people used to hide and shoot at the Duke. You might have a look at it." He crossed to the mantel and studied the bullet holes in the panelling. He was relieved to see them well above the level of his head.

"These medieval houses are just full of hiding places," remarked Cointreau.

Herr Guadeloupe excused himself to go and unpack his official papers. Nyla was a little uncertain whether she was in the position of the