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the young man of certain things she could not at present divulge also interested Sir Leonard, and set that astute mind of his very busily to work. Taking care, as he had been warned, to neglect nothing, however trivial it may have appeared to him, Foster did not forget to mention the look of hatred that had momentarily flashed across the face of the baroness, when he had reminded her of her admissionthat Germany’s Marshal of State was her friend. This item of information caused a smile to spread over the chief’s face.
    â€˜I think you can go ahead with your job, Foster,’ he had declared, ‘without your conscience worrying you any longer.’
    Foster pondered over the remark without being able to understand the significance of it. He would have liked to have asked what Sir Leonard had meant, but could not bring himself to put the question. For one thing, it is not quite usual for junior agents to question the Chief of the Secret Service, for another, he rather feared that the answer might give him an unpleasant jolt, might in fact hurt. He could no longer disguise from himself the fact that he was deeply, irrevocably in love with Sophie. Here was no case of infatuation; it was undoubtedly, irresistibly, painfully the real thing. He was afraid that Sir Leonard’s remark might mean that she was not worth consideration, for some reason or other and, though he would never believe it, even from the chief, he felt he could not bear to hear it. He had done exactly what he had been warned not to do – fallen in love with her. Whatever suffering would accrue from that fact was his own responsibility entirely. But how could a fellow help falling in love, especially with a wonderful, altogether charming woman like Sophie von Reudath?
    Sir Leonard meditated on the inevitable with mixed feelings. Although Foster did not know it, his association with the baroness was carefully watched, and it was not long before Wallace was quite certain that his junior was actually and hopelessly in love. He was not surprised, or annoyed, neither was he gratified. The situation bade fair to present too many complications for him to feel much pleasure in it. A man pretending to be in love is quite a different proposition from a man really in love.
    â€˜It has its compensations,’ he remarked to Major Brien,philosophically. ‘We certainly have one thing for which to be greatly thankful.’
    â€˜What is that?’
    â€˜The fact that she is also in love with him.’
    â€˜Do you really think she is?’
    â€˜Absolutely. She has surprisingly fallen a victim to his sex appeal, or whatever it is one falls a victim to, considering that she is generally considered to be an experienced worldly-wise woman.’ He sent for Cousins. When that little man appeared: ‘You and I will be taking a trip to the continent soon, Cousins,’ he announced, ‘and, for obvious reasons, will have to be disguised.’
    â€˜What as, sir?’ queried the grotesquely wrinkled Secret Service man.
    â€˜That I have not quite decided. We shall probably change a good deal. It is always safest to appear as a native of the country one is in on occasions like this. As we shall be going to Germany, and it is almost certain that her very efficient secret police will be looking for us, or for someone from this department, we cannot afford to take risks.’

CHAPTER FIVE
Hungarian Nights
    During the last two or three days of the Baroness von Reudath’s visit to London, she made several attempts to dissuade Foster from accompanying her to Budapest, thence to Berlin.
    ‘Why,’ she would ask, ‘should the danger which is threatening me also be allowed to fall on you?’
    ‘For a very obvious reason,’ was his answer, but he would not declare that reason, though all the time he longed to tell her it was because he loved her.
    It is certain, however, that Sophie knew very well what he meant. Her remark, on one occasion,