in enjoyment of the present
idyll. As long as they kept out to sea they were safe. But he had
pledged his word to answer any summons and to give his help, and with
him, as with all men, love came only second to his work. Emile had
also explained Vardri's position, and it would be impossible to adjust
anything without being on the spot.

He read the letter over again, slowly and carefully. It hinted and
suggested more than it had said. Emile had just come from an interview
with Sobrenski, and there had been a talk of an entire re-organization
of the band. Some of the members would be required to carry on the
propaganda in other countries, Russia, for example. They all knew what
that meant--!

As he climbed the ladder by the yacht's side, and swung himself onto
the deck, the girl ran up to him with outstretched hands, her white
skirts fluttering behind her in the wind. She was as incapable of
disguising her feelings as a child, and she was a joyous pagan in her
happiness.

Vladimir slipped his hand under the warm round arm. "Have I been long,
_petite_? Come and walk up and down. I want to talk to you."

"You have found letters, _mon ami_?" Pauline asked carelessly.

"From Poleski. Yes. I'm afraid they are rather important ones. We
shall have to talk them over later on."

"When you like. Vladimir, do you remember the girl Monsieur Poleski
brought on board once for a few days. I never knew her real name. She
always looked so ill and miserable. Do you remember?"

"It is about this very girl that he has written."

Pauline looked up quickly. "She is dead?"

"No! No! I suppose you think that because she always looked such a
tragedy. However, she is very ill, out of danger now, but of course
not able to ride--she was in the Hippodrome, you know--and apparently
she has no money, so one must do something for them. Poleski has
barely enough for two, especially under these circumstances."

"I am sorry," Pauline said gently. "I remember how she used to sit all
day and look at the sea. Monsieur Poleski left her too much alone, and
always spoke so roughly, but I think he loved her."

Vladimir gave a short laugh.

"You're wrong there, child. No, I'm sure that's not the case with
Poleski."

"But she loves him?"

"Possibly! She always seemed to me uncanny with those extraordinary
eyes, and that voice. Poleski has certainly failed to educate her as
regards taste in clothes. You saw how she wa