When Caruth reached the deck, the night was far gone, and streaks of light were already glimmering in the east. Not being in the mood for sleep, he stayed and watched the dawn come up. Uneventfully the moments sped past, and at last the golden ball of the sun lifted itself above the horizon, sending long lances of light ricocheting over the dancing waters. There was a twang in the air; the salt sea breeze thrummed in the rigging; in spite of himself, Caruth caught the uplift of the day. All was not hopeless, he told himself, with the buoyancy of his youth and his race, to which all things are possible. He had lost the first inning. “I’ll win her yet!” he cried aloud. “I’ll win her yet.” CHAPTER EIGHTEEN Thirty-six hours later the _Sea Spume_ lay in harbor at St. Petersburg, and Caruth had told his story to the American _Chargé d’Affaires_, who was conducting matters in the absence of the ambassador. As he stepped out of the office of the _Chargé_, he heard his name called in wondering tones. The accents seemed familiar, and he whirled round. Then he started in amazement and held out his hand. “Great Scott, Bristow!” he cried. “Where on earth did you spring from?” The reporter grinned back at him. “Seems kind of funny, doesn’t it?” he answered. “But, shucks, this is a small world nowadays, and you oughtn’t to be surprised at meeting anybody.” Caruth disregarded the persiflage. “Well!” he declared heartily. “I don’t know any man in the world I’d rather see. Your arrival is a regular Godsend. How did it come about?” “Most natural thing in the world. The Consolidated Press man at St. Petersburg has been wanting for a year or two to come home on a long vacation, but they never could spare him. A few weeks ago, when things were quieter than they had been for some time, I asked them to send me over to relieve him. When I told them I could speak a little Russian, they agreed right away. I left New York two days after you did.” “I didn’t know you wanted to come to Russia.” The reporter grinned. “I didn’t know it either a month ago,” he responded. “But I got married and----” “Married? Good for you! Accept congratulations!” “Thank you. My wife wanted to visit Russia in a hurry, and so--here we are. But that’s enough about me. How about yourself? There’s an incendiary tale afloat about your doings. Any truth in it?” “Too much! Come over here and sit down, and I’ll tell you the whole story.” Rapidly, Caruth poured his tale into the reporter’s sympathetic ears. He kept nothing back, as he had done in his first talk in New York. He told about Wilkins’s arrival; explained about the letters; and sketched rapidly the organization and the departure of the expedition and the events, so far as he knew them, that had taken place at Burndo Island.