She blushed, but she did not draw away. After all, if she were fated to give herself for Russia, to sell herself to Caruth in return for his help in the cause of freedom, the sacrifice would not be so very hard. Indeed, it might not be hard at all. If policy were to govern her mating, this clean-limbed, clean-thinking young American would be a better mate than many a one who had sought her in the past. The Brotherhood must decide; she had sworn herself body and soul to its orders; but she found herself suddenly hoping that the Brotherhood might find Caruth’s claims worthy.
Smilingly she looked into the young man’s eyes. “Not yet,” she murmured. “Not yet. We are not out of the woods yet, and until we are you must remember your promise.”
“My promise?”
“To give all your thoughts to the business in hand. Not to make love to me. Not to——”
“Great Cæsar’s Ghost! You don’t call this making love, do you? With you half a mile away across the cabin, and me with this telephone harness on my head. Just you wait and——” Excitedly he devoured her with his eyes.
Brightly she blushed, and restlessly she moved. Then she pressed a button on the wall. “I am going to send for Mr. Wilkins and Miss Shishkin to come and hear the news with us,” she explained. “We owe Mr. Wilkins an apology for distrusting him.”
When the steward entered, she sent him to find the two and ask them to come to the cabin.
When the man had gone, Caruth looked at her and laughed. “Yes,” he agreed, “I guess I owe Wilkins an apology, but I could make it later just as well as now. I’m inclined to think that Miss Shishkin has had more to do with his good faith than anything else, anyhow. Queer girl, isn’t she, to be the Professor’s daughter. Not the sort I should have expected at all.”
“Nor I. However—— Well, Barnes, what is it?”
The steward had entered, hastily. “Mr. Wilkins and Miss Shishkin don’t seem to be aboard, ma’am!” he exclaimed.