The steamer reached New York harbor a few minutes after sunrise.
As soon as she ran alongside of her pier Harcourt came up on deck.
Charles Cutts was there, standing with two or three other passengers, waiting for the gangplank to be laid down for them to pass ashore.
“Going to stay long in New York?” inquired Cutts, coming to his side.
“I do not know yet,” answered Harcourt.
“Come this way,” said Cutts, lowering his voice and walking some little distance from the group.
Harcourt followed anxiously.
“Now that we are to part,” said Cutts in a still lower tone, “I wish you to promise me one thing.”
“What is it?” inquired Harcourt, seeing that Cutts paused and hesitated.
“Never to mention the secret I told you yesterday morning,” said Cutts solemnly.