m much
alternative."

"That's all very well," Cecil answered, "but if he goes I go. I am not
going to be left here alone."

The Princess looked at him, and the colour came into his cheeks. It is
never well for a man when he sees such a look upon a woman's face.

"It isn't that I'm afraid," Cecil declared. "I can stand any ordinary
danger, but I am not going to be left shut up here alone, with the
whole responsibility upon me. I couldn't do it. It wouldn't be fair to
ask me."

"There is no fresh news, I suppose?" the Princess asked.

"None," Cecil answered gloomily. "If only we could see our way to the
end of it, I shouldn't mind."

The Princess was thoughtful for a few moments.

"Well," she said, "I don't know, after all, if Forrest need go just
yet. Your brother has made up his mind to go fishing for several weeks.
I think that he is going to start to-day."

"Do you mean it?" Cecil exclaimed, incredulously.

The Princess nodded.

"He has been philandering with Jeanne," she said, "and his magnificent
conscience is taking him out into the North Sea."

Cecil's features relaxed. After all, though he played at maturity, he
was little more than a boy.

"Fancy old Andrew!" he exclaimed. "Gone on a child like Miss Jeanne,
too! Well, anyhow, that makes it all right about Forrest staying,
doesn't it?"

"He shall stop," the Princess answered slowly. "Jeanne and I will stay,
too, until Monday. Perhaps by that time--"

"By that time," Cecil repeated, "something may have happened."

BOOK II

CHAPTER I

His Grace the Duke of Westerham stepped forward from the hearthrug, in
the middle of which he had been standing, and held out both his hands.
His lips were parted in a smile, and there was a twinkle in his eyes.

"My dear Andrew," he exclaimed, "it is delightful to see you. You seem
to bring the salt of the North Sea into our frowsy city."

Andrew grasped his friend's hands.

"I have been fishing with some of my men for three weeks," he said,
"off the Dogger Bank. The salt does cling to one, you know, and I
suppose I am as black as a nigger."

The Duke sighed a little.

"My dear Andrew," he said, "you make one wonder whether it is worth
while to count for anything at all in the world. You represent the
triumph of physical fitness. You could break me, or a dozen like me, in
your hands. You know what the faddists of the moment say? They declare
that brains and genius have had their day--that the gre