"They've taught me nothing, except to say 'kismet.' Who knows truly how a man's destiny works? I shall make Maryska de Paleologue one of the richest women in Europe--well, there I come in. Money's stronger than most things, and it's going to be stronger than a man's death on this occasion. Wait until the story is written, then we'll draw the moral."
"Do you wish me to go to England at once?"
"To-morrow, in my yacht, if you can. I go to Berlin to sign up a contract for rifles, but I expect to be in London in a fortnight's time. You should have your house then. There'll be no difficulty when you show them the money. I leave all that to you and to Miss Gabrielle. She's got to be the good angel in this affair. I'm counting on her right through."
"You may well do that. She is a wonderful organizer; no talk, no fuss. I am sure they would have liked her in America if we had gone to Yonkers. As it is, I really don't know what to say to those people."
"Oh, tell them to go to hell!" said Faber, while he struck a match sharply and relighted his cigar.
The _Savannah_ weighed at dawn, and all that day they steamed by the glorious isles of the matchless Adriatic. Their destination was Venice, whence Faber would go via Munich to Berlin. The others were to travel direct by the Simplon to London--all but Harry Lassett, who meant to put in a few days at Montana before he returned.
They carried a young doctor from Ragusa, but he soon discovered that he had little to do save to take a fee, a performance which he accomplished with truly professional grace. Maryska had a heart of iron, it appeared, and a constitution to match it. Whatever the unnameable night had taught her of life or of men, she held the damnable secret with the tenacity of a race born to such acts and schooled in the creeds of ferocity. Very silent, suspicious of all, agitated and given to fits of trembling when alone, those with her could not read that riddle of a child's dreams aright. To Gabrielle she remained an enigma, seemingly wanting in gratitude and anxious to escape every occasion for it. Gordon Silvester she treated as though he did not exist; Harry Lassett was a problem in manhood to awake distrust and find her eyes furtive. John Faber she trusted wholly.