“It has not occurred to you that private influences may be at work which those who might wish to help you are powerless to resist, and which make your quest absolutely unattainable and impossible?” “I admit I have had fears of that, but I shall not believe it impossible until I know what those influences are.” “I have told you that I know it to be impossible, Mr. Donnington.” “Will you tell me more--what these private influences are?” “I cannot without speaking of things that must be secret; without revealing a story of shame and crime.” “Why should I sacrifice an object which is more to me than any I have ever desired because another person has done wrong?” “You must not even seek to discover it.” “On the contrary, I will know it within the next few hours.” “If you knew it, you would recognize the truth of what I have said. But if you will take advice, you will use those next few hours to be many leagues on your way to England.” “I will go when I said--when the concessions are actually in the possession of those who seek them. Not one hour, not one minute before.” She was silent for a while and then for the first time since I had rejoined her she sat forward and looked at me. “Once in those days when we met in Paris, you said you would do anything I asked you? Does that promise hold good now?” “Yes.” “Then I wish you to leave Lisbon at once.” I shook my head. “No, anything but that.” “I was afraid,” she murmured, and leant back in her seat, with a sigh of despair; and we both remained silent. Some time later the skipper’s voice roused me. “We shall drop anchor in about quarter of an hour, Mr. Donnington,” he said as he passed. Miralda rose with a sigh, started to leave me and then returned. “There is one thing you spoke of which I must make clear. I am no revolutionary, as you hinted, but I am not free. I have been compromised against my will and I cannot break the bonds. But don’t think me a rebel, because you see me associated with those who are.” And without waiting for any reply, she turned and hurried away. When the anchor was dropped and the launch waiting to take us all on shore, she came up with the viscontesse and was again wearing a mask. But a different one now. She laughed and chatted brightly, but without the hardness or bitterness of the earlier time. I was once more the stranger. I gathered that the mask was now worn to mislead Inez, for when we shook hands, although her words of thanks were just those of common courtesy, there was an expression in the eyes and a simultaneous pressure of the fingers eloquent of the altered relations between us. Wishing to be entirely alone I returned to the _Stella_ and remained there thinking and speculating and planning. I did not reach my rooms until late and found a letter awaiting me which made me rub my eyes in astonishment.