"Would you mind touching the bell for my servant, Baron," he asked. "Dinner will be served in half an hour. Afterwards, we will talk, you and I." Peter turned away, not wholly pleased. "The sooner the better," he grumbled, "or I shall be putting my foot into it again." After dinner the two men walked on deck together. The night was dark, but fine, with a strong wind blowing from the north-west. The deck steward called their attention to a long line of lights stealing up from the horizon on their starboard side. "That's the _Lusitania_, sir. She'll be up to us in half an hour." They leaned over the rail. Soon the blue fires began to play about their masthead. Sogrange watched them thoughtfully. "If one could only read those messages," he remarked, with a sigh, "it might help us." Peter knocked the ash from his cigar, and was silent for a time. He was beginning to understand the situation. "My friend," he said at last, "I have been doing you an injustice. I have come to the conclusion that you are not keeping me in ignorance of the vital facts connected with our visit to America wilfully. At the present moment you know just a little more, but a very little more, than I do." "What perception!" Sogrange murmured. "My dear Baron, sometimes you amaze me. You are absolutely right. I have some pieces, and I am convinced that they would form a puzzle the solution of which would be interesting to us; but how or where they fit in I frankly don't know. You have the facts so far." "Certainly," Peter replied. "You have heard of Sirdeller?" "Do you mean _the_ Sirdeller?" Peter asked. "Naturally. I mean the man whose very movements sway the money markets of the world; the man who could, if he chose, ruin any nation, make war impossible; who could, if he had ten more years of life and was allowed to live, draw to himself and his own following the entire wealth of the universe." "Very eloquent," Peter remarked. "We'll take the rest for granted." "Then," Sogrange continued, "you have probably also heard of Don Pedro, Prince of Marsine, one-time Pretender to the throne of Spain?" "Quite a striking figure in European politics," Peter assented, quickly. "He is suspected of radical proclivities, and is still, it is rumoured, an active plotter against the existing monarchy." "Very well," Sogrange said. "Now listen carefully. Four months ago Sirdeller was living at the Golden Villa, near Nice. He was visited more than once by Marsine, introduced by the Count von Hern. The result of those visits was a long series of cablegrams to certain great engineering firms in America. Almost immediately the salvage of the _Maine_ was started. It is a matter of common report that the entire cost of these works is being undertaken by Sirdeller." "Now," Peter murmured, "you are really beginning to interest me."