"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—if I can. You must know I would give my life to serve you. My life, do I say? I would give my soul. It was in ignorance of what would happen that I visited Samoa. The French Consul is an old school friend. He told me everything—I mean, the news from New Caledonia. He has photographs of Maxime. I tried to get them away, without his knowledge, but I didn't succeed. You must not be embroiled further in this terrible affair. The best thing is for you to give the poor fellow up, and I swear to you that, for your sake, and for his—even though I believe him guilty—I will find some means of saving him. The doctor has been promised all sorts of favours if he will state that there is a suspicious case of illness on board; a stateroom door locked against him will be enough to raise suspicions that you are hiding a case of plague. You can do nothing. Unless you give Maxime up, and it is seen that you have a clean bill of health, you will be detained indefinitely in quarantine. Further advices will arrive from New Caledonia, representations will be made to the authorities here, it will become an international question, and you will be forced to surrender the escaped prisoner. Maxime will then be lost, for I should be unable to help him, if things had gone so far—the hue and cry would be too furious. De Letz is determined to thwart you, but he doesn't know that I am a secret ally of your plans. Trust to me. Give Maxime up while there is time, and you will never repent it."