"I don't understand," said Eileen wearily. "He does not explain. There is nothing clear in the note but that he is alive."
"He dare say no more. We—that is—he's succeeded in evading the police so far. If by any chance that letter had fallen into their hands, it would have told them no more than they knew at present."
"Where is he?" demanded Eileen. "I must go to him."
"No, that will never do. You would be followed. I will give any message for you. You can help, but not in that way. He is in need of money. Have you any of your own? Can you let him have, say, five hundred pounds at once?"
The girl reflected a moment.
"There is my jewellery," she said at last. "He—or you—can raise more than five hundred on that. Wait a moment."
She left the room, and a smile flitted across the grave face of the Princess. A few moments later she returned with a little silver casket in her hands.
"And now," she said, "tell me what happened. Who killed this man Goldenburg?"
The Princess Petrovska gave a dainty little shrug.