“As Prince John or as a woodcutter?” Janet asked.
“As neither,” said Archie. “My servant got ‘flu in Geneva, and I had to leave him behind. How would the Prince fancy taking on the job? I can lend him some of my clothes. Is he the merry class of lad that likes a jape?”
The luncheon-gong boomed. “We can talk about that later,” said Alison. “Meanwhile, it’s agreed that we three slip out of this place after dark. We’ll take your car part of the way, and there’s a moon, and I can guide you the rest. We daren’t delay, for I’m positive that this very night Mastrovin will get busy.”
Sir Archie arose with mirth in his eye, patted his hair and squared his shoulders. A boy approached and handed him a telegram.
“It’s from Bobby Despenser,” he announced. “The Conference has resumed and he wants me
