o other method would be of any avail, as
the governor of the prison would pay no attention to an anonymous
telegram, and there was now no time to write a letter. He would be
obliged also to assert positively that he knew the _Bella Cuba's_ errand
to be treacherous; and, whether he went to Paris, or telegraphed, through
Sydney, to New Caledonia, in either case Virginia was certain to find
out, later, what he had done. Such secrets could not be successfully
hidden, and she would hate him for his interference. If there was little
hope for him now, there would be none then.

When his wits began to work he regarded the situation from all points of
view. He admitted the remote--extremely remote--possibility that the
party on the _Bella Cuba_ might actually contemplate a rescue. He would
almost have been ready to stake his life that, if such an attempt were
made, it would fail ignominiously, with disaster to all
concerned--perhaps death to more than one. But--it _might_ succeed. If it
did, what would happen?

They would not dare to put back to Sydney Heads. The yacht must be coaled
and provisioned somewhere. He consulted maps, and saw that the most
likely place for the _Bella Cuba_ to proceed on leaving New Caledonia was
Samoa. It seemed to him that she must go there, in any case.

Loria did not wish to appear as an active enemy of Maxime Dalahaide's. It
was largely owing to his efforts on the prisoner's behalf that Max had
been saved from the guillotine, and all the Dalahaides must have known
that. Virginia, no doubt, knew it too. But what was to be done, if he
were not to fling aside the cloak of his reputation as a friend of that
unfortunate family? The spirit of high romance ran in Virginia Beverly's
blood. She was capable of marrying an escaped prisoner, and sharing his
miserable, hunted existence. Such a thing must not be. Loria felt that it
would be less bearable to lose her through Max Dalahaide than through any
other man. He would rather see her Roger Broom's wife than Maxime's, but
he had not yet given up all hope of having her for his own.

He would have just time to go to Samoa and meet the _Bella Cuba_ there,
if he started at once. The yacht would not leave Sydney Heads till next
day, according to the news in the telegram. Then it would take her ten
days more to reach New Caledonia. There she was sure to remain for some
hours, at the very least. If he, Loria, caught a certain "greyhound of
the sea" which was sa