"Now the letter, please?" she directed. And when Carpenter would have
protested, she cut him short with a peremptory gesture. "Don't
interrupt, sir!" she exclaimed.
And Carpenter laughed softly and did nothing more--being, with
Harleston, in enjoyment of their chief's discomfiture.
"The letter--see--your Excellency," she repeated with a bewildering
smile.
And as the flame crept down the thin sheet, just ahead of it, apparent
to them all, crept also the writing, brought out by the heat. In a
moment it was over; the last bit of the corner burning in a brass tray
where the Secretary had dropped it.
"Now, Mr. Harleston," said Madeline Spencer, lowering her revolver as
the final flicker of the flame expired, "I am ready to submit to a
search."
Harleston glanced inquiringly at the Secretary.
"The lady is with you," the Secretary remarked with a sigh of relief.
"Very well, sir," said Harleston. "Ranleigh has a skilled woman in the
waiting-room, she will officiate in the matter. We're not likely to find
anything, but it's to provide against the chance."--And turning to
Madeline Spencer: "Whatever the outcome, madame, you will leave
Washington tonight and sail from New York on the morrow; and I should
advise you to remain abroad so long as you are in the Diplomatic
Service.
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