“That is true.”
“No, I cannot direct you how to find it—at least, not at present. It is not still, not located yet. It is moving—moving—moving. I see smoke and hear guns. I feel the same impression as a moment ago—that you have lately been in danger.”
Again she was speaking with that rapid, vehement earnestness as before, as if every sensitive string of her delicate organism had been suddenly struck, thrilling her with new and strangely correct impressions.
Nick Carter sat watching her as a cat watches a mouse, but he could detect no sign of simulation or treachery. Her voice, looks, actions, and constantly changing moods all appeared to be perfectly genuine.
“I admit that I recently have been in danger,” said he, in reply to her last remark.
Madame Victoria bowed over the table, again fixing her eyes upon him with that strangely intensified stare.
“There are greater dangers before you,” she rapidly declared.
“Is that so?” inquired Nick, wondering what was now coming.
“Much greater dangers.”
“Of what kind?”