A sudden light flashed in her eyes. She leaned over and kissed him firmly and deliberately upon the lips. 'You are a man, Ambrose,' she declared. 'Do not be afraid. We are allies, is it not so?' 'In this, yes!' he promised her.... Two hours later, as they moved slowly down the river, the tugs shrieking in front of them, and siren whistles blowing on every side, they examined for the first time, in the security of Lavendale's state-room, their new treasures--the black, camera-like instrument, the smaller one, with its dial face, and a little skein of the white, silk-covered wire. They both gazed at them almost in stupefaction--harmless-looking objects, silent, dead things. 'Only think,' she whispered, clutching his arm, 'we have but to learn their secret and we can end the war!' Lavendale hid them away and silently they stole up on deck. They heard the engines quicken their beat, saw the great buildings of the city fade into an evening mist. They saw the lights shoot out from the Statue of Liberty and felt the ocean breeze on their cheeks. They turned their faces eastwards. The apprehension of great things kept them silent. They faced the Unknown. CHAPTER IX AN INTERRUPTED REVUE Madame Félanie sat before the gaily-decorated mirror which swung upon her dressing table, contemplating the result of her maid's careful and strenuous attentions. Her dressing-room, during the many months of her great success, had become transformed into a little bower of luxury and comfort. A telephone stood at her elbow amongst a chaos of tortoiseshell-backed toilet articles. There was a soft green carpet upon the floor, a wonderful divan in the most comfortable corner, a few trifles of Empire furniture, an etching or so upon the wall. Madame Félanie was a clever woman and she understood the art of environment.