CHAPTER XXV
THE TRAP
To Kasia Vard the day had been one of manifold excitements. Like Dan, she had awakened to find the boat motionless, and had run to the window to gaze entranced at the green slopes of Sandy Hook. Home! Home! She fairly sang the words as she dressed and rushed on deck. From that instant, every moment was charged with emotion, culminating as she leaned against the rail and gazed with misty eyes at Bartholdi's masterpiece. She remembered how, ten years before, her father, with tears streaming down his cheeks, had lifted her in his arms for her first sight of the majestic Goddess, and had explained to her, in a voice broken by emotion, why this statue stood here, at the entrance of this great harbour, holding her torch high in the air.
The ship swept on, and Kasia, with a sigh of joy, turned her eyes forward for the first sight of New York.
It was at that moment her father joined her. One glance at his face, and she had placed her hand within his arm, walked back with him to their suite, entered and closed the door.
"Now tell me," she said. "What has happened?"
"I have just seen Pachmann," answered her father hoarsely. "He has arranged for the final conference as soon as we land. It will be at the consulate. There is yet one danger," and he dropped his voice. "Pachmann has discovered that there are spies on board—French spies. They suspect something—how much we do not know. But it is necessary for us to evade them. We will leave the pier as soon as we land with Pachmann and the Prince. Pachmann will have a car waiting—he has made all arrangements. Here is your landing-ticket."
Kasia took it and slipped it inside her glove.