“Olga,” he began, “this note--what does it mean?” The girl glanced at the paper in his hand. “I don’t know,” she answered thoughtfully. “I don’t know.” “But----” “Ten days ago a young man came to see father. They talked together a long time. Father was a good deal excited; I could hear his voice away upstairs. Since then he has been ill. He cannot rest. He never laughs or even smiles. He has grown nervous and irritable. Always he is puzzling over something. He is killing himself. Yesterday he had me write you that note telling of his coming trip. I have begged him not to go, but he is quite determined. He says he wants to confirm his sea-floor theory.” “But he is too old!” “Of course! But he insists that he must go. Yet I don’t believe he wants to. I believe something or somebody is forcing him--though I don’t understand how any one can. Do you?” Bristow looked thoughtful. Caruth’s association with the affair, as announced in the notice sent to the papers, caused him to conclude inevitably that the forthcoming trip had some connection with the arrival of the fair but mysterious Russian and with the murder of the valet. He could not quite understand the object, however, being ignorant of the _Orkney_ and her fate, as well as of the recovery of the missing letter. “How does Mr. Caruth come to be in this?” he asked abruptly, wondering what excuse had been offered for the young man’s sudden interest in affairs scientific. “Mr. Caruth? Father seems to have known his father, and Mr. Caruth, knowing that father wanted to go to the Baltic, offered his yacht. At least, that’s what they say,” concluded the girl. “For my part, I don’t believe it. Do you?” Bristow hesitated. “No,” he answered, at last. “I happen to know that it is at least partly untrue. But, Olga, don’t express any doubt publicly. I suspect this is a big thing, and indiscreet talking would probably play hob with a good many people, including the Professor. What is your part in this, Olga? Do you go with him?” The girl nodded. “Of course,” she answered readily. “He says he wants me to, and of course I can’t let him go alone. And yet, do you know, Joe, I don’t believe he really wants me to go at all?” The reporter nodded slowly. The skein was still too tangled for him to unravel, but he was studying it intently. “Why go?” he asked. “Olga, I don’t want to be selfish. I have waited a long time, and I was prepared to keep on waiting as long as I could see you from time to time. But I can’t let you go away from me this way, especially to Russia. Why not marry me at once? Then I can speak to your father from a different footing. Perhaps I can persuade him to give up the trip.” “If you only could! But----”