"I hope so," answered the girl, bitterly; "and may it crush both him and her when it comes."
There was a moment's silence before Count Mellikoff spoke again; when he did, his voice had regained its lighter tones.
"And Madame Newbold and the charming Miss Dick," he asked; "what of them?"
"Still at Newport, on board the Deerhound; but they are to weigh anchor to-night for a longer cruise than any they have yet taken. After this evening it will be impossible to say when or where telegrams or letters could reach them." She stopped for a moment, and then said, abruptly: "And the warrant—you will have no difficulty about that?"
"I anticipate none. The first steps can, of course, be but preliminaries. There is no doubt of our securing an arrest, and that is our first move. With Mr. Tremain lost, so to speak, the Deerhound and her passengers started on an uncertain cruise; and, New York an empty wilderness, there is nothing to interrupt the march of events, mademoiselle. We may look any day now, any hour, for the consummation of fate."
"I am glad," again replied the girl; "yes, I am glad. And now I must go; it grows late. Have you any further instructions to give me?"
She took out her veil as she spoke, and tied it closely over her face, listening earnestly meantime to Count Mellikoff's low and rapid utterances. He spoke quickly, but with decision, and she acquiesced by her absolute silence.
As he finished she rose, and drawing her thin black mantle closely about her, walked rapidly towards the door. Vladimir Mellikoff held it open for her, but she passed him without word or salutation.
Half-way down the narrow passage a man overtook her, and turned to glance at her as he passed. It was the Italian, Mattalini.