ort at present.
Any one ill on board? No? Where, then, were the remaining members of the
party? In their cabins? The doctor must ask, as a mere matter of form, to
see them.

Roger Broom's lips were suddenly compressed. So this was the game. He saw
it all now. The doctor was in the plot. He meant to detain the yacht in
quarantine. If he succeeded in doing this, Maxime Dalahaide was lost.
Everything else they had thought of, but not this.

"May I speak with you alone, Miss Beverly?" Loria had begun to plead, the
instant he had set foot on deck. "Believe me, it is partly for your own
sake, partly for the sake of others whose welfare is dear to you, that I
ask it."

It was the thing for which Virginia had been wishing. "Come down with me
into the saloon," she said.

"Could we not speak here, at a little distance from the others?" urged
Loria, who knew that the doctor intended to visit the cabins.

"It is better below," the girl answered. She was determined to be already
in the saloon before the others came down. "Come quickly, and we can talk
without being disturbed."

There was nothing for Loria to do but to obey.

They went down the companionway; and George Trent, on guard with his book
near the Countess de Mattos's cabin door, jumped up at sight of Loria.

"What, you here, Marchese?" he began. But Virginia cut him short with a
look and gesture both imploring and imperative.

"Leave us, George, I beg," she said. "Later, there will be time for
explanations."

Without a word, the young man bowed and walked away. But he did not go
farther than his cabin. He wished to be at hand if he were needed, as he
might be, by and by.

On the other side of the stateroom door stood the Countess, half
crouching, like a splendid tigress ready to spring.

"Marchese," George Trent had said. Who was this Marchese? Could it be
possible that it was the one man of all others for whom her heart had
cried out? Had his soul, in some mysterious, supernatural way, heard her
soul calling to him across the world? Had he heard, and come to her here,
to save her from her enemies? In another moment she must hear the voice
of the newcomer whom George had addressed as "Marchese," and then she
would know.

Even as she told herself this, schooling her impatience, the voice
spoke. "Miss Beverly--Virginia," it said brokenly, imploringly, "for the
love of heaven don't misjudge me. I came with those men to-day, not to
help them, but to help you--