“Come along, Drummond,” said the Captain, “and bring Miss Dorothy with you.”
But Drummond stood in front of Dorothy Amhurst, and held out his hand.
“You haven’t forgotten me, Miss Amhurst, I hope?”
“Oh, no,” she replied, with a very faint smile, taking his hand.
“It seems incredible that you are here,” he began. “What a lucky man I am. Captain Kempt takes his yacht to rescue his son-in-law that is to be, and incidentally rescues me as well, and then to find you here! I suppose you came because your friend Miss Kempt was aboard?”
“Yes, we are all but inseparable.”
“I wrote you a letter, Miss Amhurst, the last night I was in St. Petersburg in the summer.”
“Yes, I received it.”
“No, not this one. It was the night I was captured, and I never got a chance to post it. It was an important letter—for me.”
“I thought it important—for me,” replied Dorothy, now smiling quite openly. “The Nihilists got it, searching your room after you had been arrested. It was sent on to New York, and given to me.”