She did not know—nor did she greatly care then—what was contained in the contract he laid before her without a word. She took from him without demur the pen he held out to her. She had promised to do all he told her and give him whatever he asked—except, for the present, herself.
"Sign 'Josceline Justice' at the foot of each page," he said gently, and she did so without a word. For she would not for all the world contained have broken any promise she had given. Then Mr. Jobling desired her to witness the two other men's signatures.
As she handed him back the pen she had a final question to ask him.
"You said my father and mother are both dead, and my step-brother too. Is there no one else—"
"No one you need worry about in the least," he assured her, misunderstanding. "There was a beggarly American who lodged a claim to the title and—to the title; his name was Carthew, I think—yes, Justin Carthew. But even if I—if he hadn't gone and got lost while looking for you, his claim would be quite ineffectual now. You're your father's daughter, Lady Josceline. Justin Carthew was a dozen or more degrees removed from the trunk of your family tree. He had only the faintest tinge of blue blood in his veins. He was an absolute outsider. We'll hear no more about him now."
"You mean that it's an absolutely sure thing for her," Captain Dove suggested, and Mr. Jobling looked pained.
"I can't afford to risk anything on uncertainties, sir," he answered stiffly. "And I'll stake my professional reputation on—"
"Oh, never mind about all that," Slyne broke in, folding his share of the papers together and pocketing them. "The syndicate's safely floated. And now—as to our next move.
"You'd better get away back to Genoa by the five o'clock train, Dove. And you must take Ambrizette with you; I'll get Sal—Lady Josceline another maid in Paris—one who won't attract quite so much attention to us as that damned dwarf would.
"Jobling and I will go on there by the night-mail, on our way to London with—Lady Josceline. You can take the Olive Branch round to some safe English port and lay her up there in the meantime. As soon as you land, you can rejoin us—at Jobling's address. By that time we'll probably be ready to redeem our note to you."