"I will tell you why," her voice quivered with emotion. "This morning you convinced me pretty thoroughly that I had no right to call myself an American. I still feel that way, don't you know. But to-night I 've seen brave and devoted men risking their lives and perfecting themselves in their calling not only through professional interest but through love of their country and their flag, and dare-devil enthusiasm in serving under a flag that means so much to them. The father of the junior officer on the _D'Estang_ is a farmer and the captain of the _Barclay_ is the son of an insurance clerk. But they're all of one cut and out of one mould--American fighting men who would shoot or knock down any one who dared utter in their presence such words as I have listened to from you--more shame to me--without a single emotion, save amusement." She ran on breathlessly, "Whatever happened on the _D'Estang_ to-night, important or unimportant, is the concern of the Navy of my country alone. Hereafter, in anything you say or do, Prince Koltsoff, remember I am learning to be an American--" she stopped and smiled at her own ardor, "so please don't say anything to discourage me." Koltsoff, who had been listening in silence, without making a movement, suddenly bowed his head. "I am sorry, Miss Wellington!" His voice was broken and sincerely so. "I misunderstood!" He sank to one knee and seized the bottom of her skirt. "Don't, Prince Koltsoff, please!" Anne was swiftly relenting. She drew her skirt away and the Prince arising took her hand. "Ah, please!" she said. "Not until I hear you are not angry." "I am not angry." He had drawn her close to him and they were looking into each other's eyes. "What is it?" she asked weakly. Her very personality seemed ebbing from her. "You love me?" His voice was almost a whisper. She smiled wanly. "_Is_ this love?" "Is it! What is love? Love is giving--yielding. Love knows neither country nor patriotism nor religion!" His glittering eyes were still holding hers. "And so," his voice was low but masterful, "I ask you--not that I care vitally for the answer of itself; you must know, must understand my motives--I ask you, did the _D'Estang_ discharge a torpedo to-night?" Long they looked at each other and then slowly the girl shook her head. "You mean no? She did not?" Koltsoff's voice was eager, his arms tightened about her. "I do not mean anything." Then suddenly she twisted out of his arms and stood with white face and parted lips, pointing to the stairway. "Now," she cried, "go! Go, I tell you," she stamped her foot as Koltsoff hesitated. "Go, or I shall hate you!" CHAPTER XIX AN ENCOUNTER IN THE DARK While Anne was detained below by Koltsoff, Sara had gone to her room. She lay awake for a long time and when her maid informed her that Emilia was still waiting for her mistress, she gave up the idea of seeing her and went to sleep.