There were the crown and pendant cross of the Invincible Knights of Zaringer; the white falcon upon a silver helmet, swung from a ribbon of cloth of gold--the familiar device of the house of Schomburg, the gold Maltese cross of the Chevaliers of the Blessed Sacrament; the crossed swords above an iron crown of the Ancient Legion of Saint Michael and All Angels; and the full-rigged ship pendant from triple anchors--the decoration of the rare Spanish order of the Star of the Seven Seas.

Silence held the company as the Ambassador's fine old hands touched one after another.

It seemed to Shirley that these baubles again bound the New World, the familiar hills of home, the Virginia shores, to the wallowing caravels of Columbus.
The Ambassador closed the silver box the better to examine the white falcon upon its lid.

Then he swung about and confronted Armitage.
"Where is he, Monsieur ?" he asked, his voice sunk to a whisper, his eyes sweeping the doors and windows.
"The Archduke Karl is dead; his son Frederick Augustus, whom these conspirators have imagined me to be--he, too, is dead." "You are quite sure--you are quite sure, Mr.Armitage ?" "I am quite sure." "That is not enough! We have a right to ask more than your word!" "No, it is not enough," replied Armitage quietly.

"Let me make my story brief.