"Is it then too much to ask?"
"I hope not, Prince Koltsoff. Tell me and then I can judge."
"So!" and Koltsoff held out the package to her. "Keep this for me. Let no one know where it is except myself. Keep it until I ask for it. If matters arise of such nature to prevent my asking, keep it still. Keep it!" Koltsoff was now acting as he loved to act. "Keep it until I ask for it; or until I am dead. If the latter, throw it over the cliffs. My country is on the verge of a war with—with you may guess whom. Japan, no less. That, that which you hold in your hand is the heart of our hopes." He paused.
He was really sincere. His desire was to forestall any defeat of his plans by having the package out of his hands until such time as he would leave Newport. One of his valets had once been successfully bribed. But equally did he desire that the girl should have a bond of interest akin to his; through this, he knew, must lie the success of that understanding which alone kept him from following Yeasky out of Newport forthwith.
But the girl could not know this. Her pride in sharing in so intimate a way a matter which she believed to—and for that matter, really did—affect the policy of a great empire, held her spellbound. There was the feminine delight, too, in being on the inner side of a mystery.
She nodded mechanically. "I shall do as you ask," she said.
The Prince sprang forward, caught her hands and pressed upon them hot, lingering kisses.
"Into these hands," he said, "I commit my destiny and my honor."