“Love!”
“Yes! Love! You may not believe it. I cannot blame you if you do not, but it is true. And, senorita, have no fear. We will be on my yacht in a few minutes; and you will be as safe there as you were on the Southern Cross. I will release you very soon—as soon as safety will allow—probably within two weeks. But I cannot permit the knowledge of my plans to reach Washington just now!”
Lillian was no longer frightened. The circling searchlight flashed across her face, and very close at hand she heard the noise of oars in rowlocks. Besides she was choking with rage, and rage had driven out fear.
It was on the tip of her tongue to tell the count that his action was vain; that his plans had already been wirelessed to land and had very probably already been printed broadcast. How she could exult over him! But on second thoughts she held her tongue. She knew instinctively that he would not under any circumstances restore her to the steamer from which he had taken her. Perhaps he could not do so even if he would, and she felt sure that he would not if he could.
When the Southern Cross reached port, she would be looked for, and her and his disappearance would be understood, and steps would be taken for her rescue. To tell him would merely be to warn him and cause him to take precautions that might lessen her chances of early freedom.
Besides, now that the thing was done, she was beginning to feel that it might all be for the best. She no longer felt the least regret over her own action. The fact that the count had gone to the lengths he did to seal her lips proved that something of great moment was afoot. Her disappearance would add more force to the warning she had sent than would anything she could say. And here she was forcibly forked into the very focus of the conspiracy where, if anywhere, she would have an opportunity to learn all about its tangled threads. And if she learned anything she would no longer hesitate to use it. Since Ouro Preto had resorted to open war, she could fight back with good grace. For herself she had no fear. She did not believe that he would dare to harm her. On the whole, she began to feel rather glad that she had been kidnapped.
Ouro Preto had been watching her in silence. “Well?” he questioned.
Lillian shrugged her shoulders. “Well!” she replied definitively. “Since I can’t help myself, I yield for the time being. But I warn you that you will have to pay some day.”
The count leaned forward. “I am ready to pay now,” he cried eagerly; “to pay with all I have. Marry me, and—”
“No thank you! Change the subject, please! How did you get me away from the steamer?”