“Now, Princess, I will make you a proposal. You are a woman, clever, young, and beautiful, but weak; I am a bachelor, not very young, but not yet very old, and I am powerful, and power is what you need. _Madame la Princesse_, will you do me the honor to become my wife?” Florence’s breath was taken away with a vengeance. That she, the variety actress of a month before, should be receiving a proposal of marriage from the chief of the Russian secret police was past belief. “Gee!” she muttered. “What’s coming next? If the pipe don’t go out and I don’t wake up, the first thing I know the Czarski’ll be asking me to share his bomb-proof cottage with him.” Scarcely she heard the Baron’s following words: “I know that it is presumption for me to address you, Princess,” he was saying. “My family, though noble, is by no means on a par with yours. Still, I assure you that your union with me cannot be termed a _mesalliance_. The position I have won makes it possible for me to mate with any one outside of the blood royal. Will you not accept me, Princess?” The daze was passing away, and Florence was regaining command of herself. “Gee!” she muttered desperately. “Gee! He’s a nice old fellow, any way, and I don’t know but what--oh, gee!” she exploded. “I’m afraid! I’m afraid!” She looked up at the Baron. “I must think! I must think!” she cried. “Assuredly, Princess! Think all you like. And remember that, though I do not talk of sentiment, for you might think me deceitful, yet I feel it, Princess. I am not so old that I cannot admire and love--yes, love, Princess. But I will leave that till later. Just now remember that I can give you everything, and that I offer myself as a guarantee of my truth. Can I say more?” “No! No!” Florence had found her tongue at last. “No! No! You can’t say more. And I will accept if I can. I will, honest. But I must think. I must talk to my friends on the _Sea Spume_.” “Certainly! Yet do not forget that time flies. Will the gold stay safe while you think?” Florence paled. “Gracious!” she cried. “I forgot the gold!” “Perhaps I can save you the necessity of going on board the yacht.” Demidroff touched a bell. “I will send for some one whom you will be glad to see,” he explained. “Who is it?” “You shall see.” Demidroff touched a bell and gave an order in Russian. An instant later the door was pushed open. Professor Shishkin stood on the threshold! CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE Neither Florence nor the Professor was as much surprised at seeing the other as might have been expected, and this for the very simple reason that neither knew that the other had been missing. Ever since her flight, Florence had been cut off from all information concerning the yacht, while Professor Shishkin had vanished during the fight without having learned of the treachery of Wilkins and the woman who was impersonating his daughter.