altered the
appearance of the stones, and prepared them ready for sale, while the
gold was melted in a crucible and put ashore to be sent to agents in
Hamburg."

"But that night in Leghorn?" I said. "What happened to poor Elma?"

"I do not know," was Muriel's reply. "We were both on board together,
and standing at the crack of the door watched you sitting at dinner that
evening. Elma told me that she believed that there was a plot against
your life, but why she would not tell me. She evidently knew of the
proposed rifling of the safe at the Consulate. Oberg himself was also on
board, locked in his own cabin. Elma must have overheard some
conversation between the Baron and one of the others, for she was in
great fear the whole time lest they might injure you. Yet it seemed,
after all, as though their idea was the same as always, to worm
themselves into your confidence. The instant, however, you went ashore,
Chater, Woodroffe--whom you called Hornby--and Mackintosh, the
captain--who, by the way, was an old ticket-of-leave man--went ashore,
and, of course, broke into the Consulate. Then, as soon as they
returned, Elma came to my cabin, awoke me, and said that the Baron was
taking her ashore, and that they were to travel overland back to London.
She was ready dressed to go, therefore I kissed her, and promising to
meet her soon, we parted. That was the last I saw of her. What happened
to her afterwards only she alone can tell us."

"But she is not the Baron's niece?" I said.

"No. There is some mystery," declared Muriel. "She holds some secret
which he fears she may divulge. But of what nature, I am in ignorance."

"Then you say that your father has never taken any active part in the
robberies?" I remarked.

"No. He commenced by lending money, and amassed a considerable fortune.
Then avarice seized him, as it does so many men, and coming into contact
with Archer and his friends, he saw that the idea of the yacht was a
safe and profitable one. Therefore he purchased the vessel, and ran it
at the disposition of the thieves, and subsequently under compulsion in
the secret service of Russia, as I have already described to you. The
profits were colossal. In one year my father's share was eighty thousand
pounds."

"And where is your father now?" I asked.

"Ah!" she exclaimed sadly, her face pale and haggard.

"I have heard that the vessel was scuttled somewhere in the Baltic."

"That is true. Oberg's purpose having b