"What is that?" I cried anxiously, for I heard a train approaching, and knew it must be the Paris express.
"To send a special messenger to Livorno. A train starts in half an hour, and the message can then be delivered by 11 o'clock."
"Could you find me one?" I asked. "I'm willing to bear all expenses."
"My son will go, if the signorina so wishes," he answered.
"Thank you so much," I replied, a great weight lifted from my mind. "I leave the matter entirely in your hands. If you will kindly see that the message is delivered, you will be rendering, not only to myself, but to a number of other people, a very great service."
"The signorina's instructions shall be obeyed," he answered.
When he had said this I placed some money to cover expenses upon the counter, again thanked him, and left, feeling that although I had been guilty of forgery, I had saved the yacht from destruction.
The train, with its glaring head-lights, swept into the station from its long journey across the fever-stricken Maremma marshes, but I saw with considerable dismay that there was but one sleeping-car—the only through car for the frontier. I was therefore compelled to travel in this, even at the risk of meeting Keppel in the corridor. One cannot well travel in one of those stuffy cars of the Compagnie Internationale des Wagons Lits without being seen by all one's fellow-travellers. It was thus my first difficulty presented itself.
I watched my host and his companion enter the car, and from the platform saw them shown to their respective berths by the conductor. Keppel was given a berth in a two-bed compartment with another man, while the tall dark woman was shown to one of the compartments reserved for ladies at the other end of the car.
With satisfaction I saw the old millionaire take his companion's hand and wish her good-night. As soon as his door had closed, I mounted into the car and demanded a place.