"Well, then, Mrs. Kind gave me a few dozen of those old papers to wile away the time. I found some of a few months ago--nine or ten months to be exact--which gave an account of a revolution in Indiana. President Guzman was deposed, and fled with his daughter and Captain Kyles, whom, it seems, commanded the Navy."
"Humph," said Kind, "in that case, the yarn of buying these war-ships is all rubbish."
"No. I don't see that. The President and his daughter may procured money, and have come to get ships under the advice of Captain Kyles, so as to replace the President over the Republic."
"Might be,--the yacht certainly looked like money. But from what you say I should think that Kyles will marry Miss Tedder. It's better to get fifty thousand a year in England, than marry the daughter of a deposed ruler. If Guzman were still the President, I should say his daughter would get the Captain; but as matters stand, I think Kyles is making for the Tedder cash, and he'll marry the girl."
"He won't get the money, however," said Elspeth quickly.
"He will, unless Mr. Herries joins forces with Señora Guzman, and learns the truth. It's all politics, and she alone can put us on the track of the real assassin. See her, Mr. Herries--and at once."
"No, no, wait till my father comes," cried Elspeth. At that moment, by one of those odd coincidences, which often occur in life, a trembling knock came to the door. In a moment Herries was lying full length, and Elspeth had replaced the boards. While she put a chair over the hiding-place and sat down shaking with nervous fear, Kind spoke gruffly through the door.
"Who's there?" demanded the Cheap-jack.
"Eh, laddie, lat me come ben," whimpered a voice, quaveringly.
"My father," cried Elspeth, jumping up.