"Yes, yes; I think I see what you mean," replied the count; "she is a Frenchwoman, but her only interest in the destiny of France consists in the restoration of the House of Bourbon to power; still, being a Frenchwoman, and in love, as you believe, she would also do anything for the sake of the man she loves, even to the ruin of her own hopes. Finally, being on this supposition the rival of Miss Vandel, she would stop at nothing to prove her devotion to him; and, if she did as you suggest, Sophie, it would be a very formidable condition of affairs indeed."
"Then, papa," she replied, coming and laying her hand on his shoulder, "do you not see that that is all the greater reason why this scheme of ours must be carried through? You see that Adelaide de Condé may herself become a source of the greatest danger; but when we have not only her, but Miss Vandel and the man they are both in love with, as well as the two papas and Lady Olive, completely in our power, when, for example, we could land them all on one of those drifting ice-floes, to float away to somewhere where no one but the seals and bears would know what had become of them, the game would be in our hands to play as we please."
"My dear Sophie," said the count, laying his hand upon hers, "I am delighted to see that you have the courage of your convictions. And now, it is very late, or, rather, early, and I think you may as well go to bed and dream of success, for you have convinced me that failure is, to all intents and purposes, impossible."
As Sophie Valdemar stole quietly away to bed Clifford Vandel was finishing a long cable dispatch in cipher to Doctor Lamson, giving him a complete account, so far as he knew, of all that had been taking place in Europe during the last few weeks, and concluding with the words: "I have good reason to believe that the supposed French and Russian Polar expeditions, which will be in your latitude in a few weeks, are really intended for the capture or destruction of the Storage Works; so take every possible precaution against attack or surprise."
While all this plotting and counter-plotting had been going on in England and Europe, and France, thanks to what some might call the patriotic treachery of Victor Fargeau, was rapidly preparing for an invasion of Germany, which a magnificently-equipped army of nearly four million men meant to make a very different affair to the last one; while Russia was swiftly and secretly massing her huge military and very formidable naval forces in the near and far east, and England had, as usual, been muddling along, chattering over reforms on land and sea without getting them done; and while Germany, for once about to be taken unawares, was quietly getting ready for the inevitable struggle, a quiet, broad-browed, deep-eyed man had been at the head of an army of workmen, building up what was intended to be the real capital and governing centre of the world. In the midst of a broad, barren plain, broken by great masses of rock, many of them snow-capped and ice-crowned even in the middle of the northern summer, there rose the walls and chimneys of what looked like a commonplace collection of factories, such as might be found in any of the manufacturing districts of Europe and America.