a
wreck here; is there to be a life-saver? When the night is
darkest, the sea wildest, when hope is gone, is not that the time
when rescue is most precious? Tell me, you who know all there is
of this approaching disaster?"

"I cannot command you to leave Edelweiss; I can only tell you
that you will have something to answer for if you stay," said the
Countess.

"Will you help me if I show to you that I can reach the wreck and
save the one who clings to it despairingly?" he asked, smiling,
suddenly calm and confident.

"Willingly, for I love the one who is going down in the sea. I
have spoken to you seriously, though, and I trust you will not
misunderstand me. I like you and I like Mr. Anguish. You could
stay here forever so far as I am concerned."

He thought long and intently over what she had said as he smoked
his cigar on the great balcony that night. In his heart he knew
he was adding horror, but that persistent hope of the life-saver
came up fresh and strong to combat the argument. He saw, in one
moment, the vast chasm between the man and the princess; in the
next, he laughed at the puny space.

Down on the promenade he could see the figures of men and women
strolling in the moonlight. To his ears came the occasional
laugh of a man, the silvery gurgle of a woman. The royal
military band was playing in the stand near the edge of the great