"We're going to wait," said Lord Vernon, gloomily.
"To wait?"
"Yes—until the sea subsides a little or the devil gets tired and goes away and gives us a chance to escape. We dare neither fight the devil nor brave the ocean. Our hands are tied."
Susie walked along a moment in silence, trying to distinguish the wrong and the right of this very intricate question.
"All that you have been telling me may be true," she said, at last; "I haven't the least doubt that it is true; but yet it doesn't quite excuse tricking the Prince of Markeld as you are doing."
"I know it doesn't," admitted Vernon, instantly. "It doesn't excuse it in the least. I don't like it any more than you do, Miss Rushford. But the ways of diplomacy are devious past understanding; and then, again, when one has entered upon a line of action, it is sometimes very hard to change it or let go. It's like a hot iron or a charged wire—one never realises one's mistake until it is too late. After all, a few days will end it."
"A few days! Then the Prince was right!"
"Right?"
"He told me that an undercurrent of some sort seemed to be setting in against him. I warn you, Lord Vernon, that I have become his ally."
"Even to the point of giving me away?" he inquired, half humourously, looking at her in evident enjoyment.