Amazement gripped Florence and held her dumb. The gold whose capture was to be the price of proofs of her princesshood had passed into other hands. What was she to do? There was no time to lose. Should she betray Wilkins to Caruth or to the Baron? How could she betray him to the Baron even if she wanted to? Should she grasp at the money and let the visionary rank go. She did not question whether she should be true to Professor Shishkin. Long before, she had decided that question. Abruptly she spoke. “Well, what are you going to do?” she demanded. “Going to run the gold off, of course,” returned the plainsman. “Bill’s got a boat of sorts--a schooner or pergola or something--and he’s got the gold on board by now. I’ve staked him to buy provisions, and we’re off to-night. Bill would have gone before, but he’s been crippled up since the wreck, and couldn’t manage the boat alone. But it’s all skeeky now. The scow’s lying up here a ways, just a-waiting for dark and for you and me to join her. If it coincides with your sentiments, we’ll do the fly away act to-night. Will you come?” Miss Lee considered. Of course it would be delightful to be a princess, but, after all, there might be a string tied to Demidroff’s offer, while there was something substantial about five million dollars in gold. It might be well to pass up the fairy tale and close with Wilkins. She must consider. “You can’t cross the Atlantic in a sloop,” she objected. “Ain’t going to try. We’ll just run over the way to Stockholm to a place Bill knows of, and go home from there by steamer. Oh, we’ve got it all diagnosed out proper. It’s a cinch.” “But”--Florence was thinking aloud--“how are you goin’ to get away from the yacht?” “That’s fixed, too. Bill will float down under the cabin windows about ten o’clock, just before the moon gets on the job, and we’ll drop in on him.” “But when they find we’re gone----” “Let ’em find. What difference does it make? They may aspirate to get this here gold, but that don’t make it theirs. Bill and me’s got it, and I guess we’ll keep it. Why, say, there ain’t one of ’em’ll dare to baa even if they find us, which they won’t. Oh, it’s a cinch.” “Perhaps! And yet--say, Mr. Wilkins, you’ve been on the level with me, and I’m going to treat you likewise. Don’t you be too sure you’ve got a cinch! There’s others besides the folks on this yacht that’s after that gold.” Wilkins did not speak, but he looked the girl in the eye and waited for her to go on. “The Russian cops are onto their jobs all right. They know what we’re after, and they’re watching us all the time. They’re ready to swoop down on us the minute we get the gold on board. I guess they’ve got a dozen boats lying around here.” Wilkins looked thoughtful. “Humph!” he said. “You’re all to the good, you are. You ain’t been wasting no time, have you? How’d you find out?” “The priest! That day at the church. He wanted me to help him.”