e crackling of the electricity
above their heads.

"I expect Bernadine is a little annoyed," Peter remarked.

"It isn't pleasant to be out of the party," Sogrange agreed. "Nearly
everybody, however, believed at the last moment that Sirdeller had
transferred his passage to the _Lusitania_."

"It's going to cost him an awful lot in marconigrams," Peter said. "By
the by, wouldn't it have been better for us to have travelled
separately, and incognito?"

Sogrange shrugged his shoulders slightly.

"Von Hern has at least one man on board," he replied. "I do not think
that we could possibly have escaped observation. Besides, I rather
imagine that any move we are able to make in this matter must come
before we reach Fire Island."

"Have you any theory at all?" Peter asked.

"Not the ghost of a one," Sogrange admitted. "One more fact, though, I
forgot to mention. You may find it important. The Duchesse comes
entirely against von Hern's wishes. They have been on intimate terms for
years, but for some reason or other he was exceedingly anxious that she
should not take this voyage. She, on the other hand, seemed to have some
equally strong reason for coming. The most useful piece of advice I
could give you would be to cultivate her acquaintance."

"The Duchesse----"

Peter never finished his sentence. His companion drew him suddenly back
into the shadow of a lifeboat.

"Look!"

A door had opened from lower down the deck, and a curious little
procession was coming towards them. A man, burly and broad-shouldered,
who had the air of a professional bully, walked by himself ahead. Two
others of similar build walked a few steps behind. And between them a
thin, insignificant figure, wrapped in an immense fur coat and using a
strong walking-stick, came slowly along the deck. It was like a
procession of prison warders guarding a murderer, or perhaps a
nerve-wrecked royal personage moving towards the end of his days in the
midst of enemies. With halting steps the little old man came shambling
along. He looked neither to the left nor to the right. His eyes were
fixed and yet unseeing, his features were pale and bony. There was no
gleam of life, not even in his stone-cold eyes. Like some machine-made
man of a new and physically degenerate age, he took his exercise under
the eye of his doctor--a strange and miserable-looking object.

"There goes Sirdeller," Sogrange whispered. "Look at him--the man whose
might is greater than any