THE YELLOW DOVE
“In a moment—with your permission,” he said, recovering his suavity with his breath. “In extenuation of this visit, terrible as it seems to Miss Mather, I—I can only say that if I had succeeded I would have saved her from remembering some day that she had given England’s secrets into the hands of the enemy.”
“You’re mistaken,” said Doris quietly. “I have burned them.”
“You—you burned them?”
“Yes—tonight.”
Rizzio peered at her in silence for a long moment and then shrugged. “Oh,” he said, “in that case, I have made two errors in judgment”
“You’ll make a third, if you’re not out of that window in half a second,” said Cyril.
But Rizzio laughed at him.
“I don’t think it would be wise to make a disturbance” he said coolly. “I think Miss Mather will admit my generosity to herself and to you when I say that I’ve only to raise my voice and have half a dozen men up here in a moment.”
Doris clutched him fearfully by the arm, thinking of Cyril.
“You’d not do that?”
Hammersley laughed dryly.
“There’s no danger,” he said.
“No,” returned Rizzio with a touch of his old magnificence. “There is no danger of that—the reasons are obvious.”
As he moved toward the window Hammersley touched him lightly on the arm.
“I warn you, Rizzio,” he said in a low concentrated tone, “that you’re playing a dangerous hand. I should punish you—but other agencies”
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