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 entire universe. They used to regard her as a queen. It was hinted at her trial that they were all fascinated by the spell of her charms, though she would never favor any of the crew in that way. Probably that was the secret of her power over them.”

“You don’t happen to know when her sentence expired?” the General asked, after a pause.

“It didn’t expire; she broke jail—an easy matter for one as well served as she was by a clever crowd with unlimited financial resources.”

The two old cronies relapsed into a thoughtful silence, neither of them showing a disposition to retire for the night, though the intense stillness prevailing in the great house implied that everyone else was asleep. Yet it was not so, for Alec Forsyth was at that moment uncommonly busy before the looking-glass in his bedroom. On the toilet-table there lay open a theatrical “make-up” box, from which he was putting the finishing touches to a very creditable transformation of himself into a semblance of the Duke. His deft usage of the various pigments revealed him as no tyro at the