guard over the door, and stood there, a grim
figure of impatience. Before the five minutes was up, Bernadine crossed
the room.

"I congratulate you, Baron," he said, dryly. "You are either an
exceedingly lucky person or you are more of a genius than I believed.
Kosuth is even now returning his letters of credit to your friend. You
are quite right. The loan cannot stand."

"I was sure," Peter answered, "that you would see the matter correctly."

"You and I," Bernadine continued, "know very well that I don't care a
fig about Turkey, new or old. The ships, I will admit, I intended to
have for my own country. As it is, I wish you joy of them. Before they
are completed we may be fighting in the air."

Peter smiled, and, side by side with Bernadine, strolled across to
Heseltine-Wrigge, who was buttoning up a pocket-book with trembling
fingers.

"Personally," Peter said, "I believe that the days of wars are over."

"That may or may not be," Bernadine answered. "One thing is very
certain. Even if the nations remain at peace, there are enmities which
strike only deeper as the years pass. I am going to take a drink now
with my disappointed friend Kosuth. If I raise my glass 'To the Day!'
you will understand."

Peter smiled.

"My friend Mr. Heseltine-Wrigge and I are for the same destination," he
replied, pushing open the swing door which led to the bar. "I return
your good wishes, Count. I, too, drink 'To the Day!'"

Bernadine and Kosuth left a few minutes afterwards. Mr.
Heseltine-Wrigge, who was feeling himself again, watched them depart
with ill-concealed triumph.

"Say, you had those fellows on toast, Baron," he declared, admiringly.
"I couldn't follow the whole affair, but I can see that you're in for
big things sometimes. Remember this. If money counts at any time, I'm
with you."

Peter clasped his hand.

"Money always counts," he said--"and friends!"

CHAPTER VII

THE GHOSTS OF HAVANA HARBOUR

"We may now," Sogrange remarked, buttoning up his ulster, and stretching
himself out to the full extent of his steamer chair, "consider ourselves
at sea. I trust, my friend, that you are feeling quite comfortable."

Peter, Baron de Grost, lying at his ease upon a neighbouring chair, with
a pillow behind his head, a huge fur coat around his body, and a rug
over his feet, had all the appearance of being very comfortable indeed.
His reply, however, was a little short--almost peevish.

"I am comfortable en