"Then how can you—save him?" she demanded sharply. "I do not know where he is, and if I did wild horses would not drag his whereabouts from me—even for the purpose of saving his life."
But her words did not offend.
"You do not trust me," returned the man, with a tolerant shake of the head. "I cannot blame you either. I must prove my sincerity—later. Meanwhile the matter is simple enough. Give me your solemn pledge that you will become my wife as soon as we safely land across the water, you, your father and me. Then I will show you."
For another few silent moments the struggle in Vita's heart went on. Now it was a struggle of doubt and credulity. All other feeling had yielded in that earlier struggle. Dare she trust this man? Dare she? But he was asking nothing until their safety had been assured. His seemed the greater risk, unless this were some diabolical plot with his superior, Von Berger. She could not reason it out. Reason was beyond her. Her father's safety lay in the balance. She forgot self for the time. So she thrust her finger upon the scale.
"I solemnly pledge myself under the conditions you name," she said in low tones.
The joy in the man's hard eyes was unmistakable, and Vita, witnessing it, understood that it was real, genuine.
"Then listen," he cried. "Communication with your father will be simple and safe. We do not need his whereabouts. I will dictate a letter to you—a letter of our plans and instructions. We will beat Von Berger at his own game, and once we are in America we can snap our fingers at the whole race. I will tell you now Von Berger threatened me yesterday again. He it was who deprived me of my command at Borga. He it was who superseded me over here. He it is who has given me the life of a cur ever since. Now I shall pay him in a way he little suspects. I will dictate this letter for you, Vita, and when it is written you will address it to your father and enclose it under cover to Sir Andrew Farlow at Dorby Towers. He will see that it reaches your father. You will see how sure is my plan. No matter into whose hands that letter falls it cannot betray his whereabouts to any one."
And Vita was finally convinced. She was making her sacrifice for the life and liberty of her father, and through all the pains and hopelessness of yielding up her love for Ruxton she had the wholly inadequate assurance that, whatever it cost her, it was her simple duty for which even Ruxton himself would never blame her.