Peter turned away, not wholly pleased.

"The sooner, the better," he grumbled, "or I shall be putting my foot
into it again."...

After dinner, the two men walked on deck together. The night was dark
but fine, with a strong wind blowing from the northwest. The deck
steward called their attention to a long line of lights, stealing up
from the horizon on their starboard side.

"That's the Lusitania, sir. She'll be up to us in half an hour."

They leaned over the rail. Soon the blue fires began to play about their
mast head. Sogrange watched them thoughtfully.

"If one could only read those messages," he remarked, with a sigh, "it
might help us."

Peter knocked the ash from his cigar and was silent for a time. He was
beginning to understand the situation.

"My friend," he said at last, "I have been doing you an injustice. I
have come to the conclusion that you are not keeping me in ignorance of
the vital facts connected with our visit to America, willfully. At the
present moment you know just a little more, but a very little more than
I do."

"What perception!" Sogrange murmured. "My dear Baron, sometimes
you amaze me. You are absolutely right. I have some pieces and I am
convinced that they would form a puzzle the solution of which would be
interesting to us, but how or where they fit in, I frankly don't know.
You have the facts so far."

"Certainly," Peter replied.

"You have heard of Sirdeller?"

"You mean the Sirdeller?" Peter asked.

"Naturally. I mean the man whose very movements sway the money markets
of the world, the man who could, if he chose, ruin any nation, make war
impossible; who could if he had ten more years of life and was allowed
to live, draw to himself and his own following the entire wealth of the
universe."

"Very eloquent," Peter remarked. "We'll take the rest for granted."

"Then," Sogrange continued, "you have probably also heard of Don Pedro,
Prince of Marsine, one time Pretender to the Throne of Spain?"

"Quite a striking figure in European politics," Peter assented, quickly.
"He is suspected of radical proclivities, and is still, it is rumored,
an active plotter against the existing monarchy."

"Very well," Sogrange said. "Now listen carefully. Four months ago,
Sirdeller was living at the Golden Villa, near Nice. He was visited more
than once by Marsine, introduced by the Count von Hern. The result
of those visits was a long series of cablegrams to certain great
enginee