Bellamy drew a long breath.
"My God, but this is wonderful!" he muttered. "How long is it since you left the Palace?"
"About ten minutes or a quarter of an hour," Dorward answered.
"They'll find it out at once," declared the other. "They'll miss the paper. Perhaps he'll tell them himself that he has given it to you. Don't let us run any risks, Dorward. Tear it open. Let us know the truth, at any rate. If you have to part with the document, we can remember its contents. Out with it, man, quick! They may be here at any moment."
Dorward drew a few steps back. Then he shook his head.
"I guess not," he said firmly.
Bellamy regarded his friend in blank and uncomprehending amazement.
"What do you mean?" he exclaimed. "You're not going to keep it to yourself? You know what it means to me--to England?"
"Your old country can look after herself pretty well," Dorward declared. "Anyhow, she'll have to take her chance. I am not here as a philanthropist. I am an American journalist, and I'll part to nobody with the biggest thing that's ever come into any man's bands."
Bellamy, with a tremendous effort, maintained his self-control.
"What are you going to do with it?" he asked quickly. "I tell you I'm off out of the country to-night," Dorward declared. "I shall head for England. Pearce is there himself, and I tell you it will be just the greatest day of my life when I put this packet in his hand. We'll make New York hum, I can promise you, and Europe too."
Bellamy's manner was perfectly quiet--too quiet to be altogether natural. His hand was straying towards his pocket.
"Dorward," he said, speaking rapidly, and keeping his back to the door, "you don't realize what you're up against. This sort of thing is new to you. You haven't a dog's chance of leaving Vienna alive with that in your pocket. If you trust yourself in the Orient Express to-night, you'll never be allowed to cross the frontier. By this time they know that the packet is missing; they know, too, that you are the only man who could have it, whether the Chancellor has told them the truth or not. Open it at once so that we get some good out of it. Then we'll go round to the Embassy. We can slip out by the back way, perhaps. Remember I have spent my life in the service, and I tell you that there's no other place in the city where your life is worth a snap of the fingers but at your Embassy or mine. Open the packet, man."