I led Marguerite into the Captain's cabin and insisted that she lie down on the narrow berth. Seated in the only chair, I related what I knew of the affair at the locks. "It must have been," I concluded, after much speculation, "that Holknecht finally got the attention of the Chemical Staff and related what he knew of the incident of the potash mines. They had enough data about me to have arrived at the correct conclusion long ago. It was a question of getting the facts together."
"It was that," said Marguerite, "or else I am to blame."
"And what do you mean?" I asked.
"I mean," she said, "that I took a great risk about which I must tell you, for it troubles my conscience. After I had sent for the Admiral and he had promised to come, I telephoned to Dr. Zimmern of my intention to get von Kufner to take me to the docks and my hope that I could come with you. And it may be that some one listened in on our conversation."
"I do not see," I said, "how such a conversation should lead to the discovery of my identity--the Holknecht theory is more reasonable--but you did take a risk. Why did you do it?"
"I wanted to tell him good-bye," said Marguerite. "It was hard enough that I could not see him." And she turned her face to the pillow and began to weep.
"What is it, my dear?" I pleaded, as I knelt beside her. "It was all right, of course. Why are you crying--you do not think, do you, that Dr. Zimmern betrayed us?"
Marguerite raised herself upon her elbow and looked at me with hurt surprise. "Do you think that?" she demanded, almost fiercely.
"By no means," I hastened to assure her, "but I do not understand your grief and I only thought that perhaps when you told him he was angered--I never understood why he seemed so anxious not to have you go with me."
"Oh, my dear," sobbed Marguerite. "Of course you never understood, because we too had a secret that has been kept from you, and you have been so apologetic because you feared so long to confide in me and I have been even slower to confide in you."