"To-morrow," he replied, "I sail for London."

She seemed for a moment absolutely speechless, consumed by a sort of
silent passion that found no outlet in words. She gripped a fancy mat
which covered an ornate table by her side, and dragged a begilded vase
on to the floor without even noticing it. She leaned towards him. The
little lines at the sides of her eyes were suddenly deep-riven like
scars. Her eyes themselves were smouldering with fire.

"You are going to England!"

"That is what I propose," he assented. "I am sailing on the _City of
Boston_ to-morrow afternoon."

"But the risk!" she faltered. "I thought that you dared not set foot
in England."

"There is risk," he admitted. "It is not easy to amuse oneself
anywhere without it. I have been offered a hundred thousand pounds to
superintend the conveyance of certain documents and a certain letter
to Berlin. The adventure appeals to me, and I have undertaken it.
Until I found this man following me this afternoon, I really believed
that we had put every one off the track. I know for a fact that most
of the American officials believe that the papers for which they have
searched so long and anxiously are in that trunk with the broken seals
which they found at Halifax."

"What about the Englishman, Crawshay, and Sam Hobson?" the girl asked.