Sogrange looked out into the darkness. Perhaps he saw in that great black gulf the pictures of these happenings, which his companion had prophesied. Perhaps, for a moment, he saw the panorama of a city in flames, the passing of a great country under the thrall of these new ideas. At any rate, he turned abruptly away from the side of the vessel and, taking Peter's arm, walked slowly down the deck. "You have solved the puzzle, Baron," he said, gravely. "Now tell me one thing. Your story seems to dovetail everywhere." "The one thing," Peter said, "is connected with the Duchesse. It was she, of her own will, who decided to come to America. I believe that but for her coming Bernadine and the Prince would have waited in their own country. Money can flash from America to England over the wires. It does not need to be fetched. They have still one fear. It is connected with the Duchesse. Let me think." They walked up and down the deck. The lights were extinguished one by one, except in the smoke-room. A strange breed of sailors from the lower deck came up, with mops and buckets. The wind changed its quarter and the great ship began to roll. Peter stopped abruptly. "I find this motion most unpleasant," he said. "I am going to bed. To-night I cannot think. To-morrow, I promise you, we will solve this. Hush!" He held out his hand and drew his companion back into the shadow of a lifeboat. A tall figure was approaching them along the deck. As he passed the little ray of light thrown out from the smoking-room, the man's features were clearly visible. It was the Prince. He was walking like one absorbed in thought. His eyes were set like a sleep-walker's. With one hand he gesticulated. The fingers of the other were twitching all the time. His head was lifted to the skies. There was something in his face which redeemed it from its disfiguring petulance. "It is the man who dreams of power," Peter whispered. "It is one of the best moments, this. He forgets the vulgar means by which he intends to rise. He thinks only of himself, the dictator, king, perhaps emperor. He is of the breed of egoists." Again and again the Prince passed, manifestly unconscious even of his whereabouts. Peter and Sogrange crept away unseen to their state-rooms. * * * * *