“Of course!” I exclaimed. At last I fathomed that puzzling episode. “You thought the paper might speak of the duke’s marriage, that it might mention your sister’s name. In that case, if it stayed on board, it might be seen by the captain or by an officer, and they would guess who you were and warn the authorities when we got to shore.” “Yes. That was why I borrowed it. And I was right, I discovered; just at the end the account said that Jean had married an American, a Miss Enid Falconer, four years ago. Then I asked you to throw it overboard, Mr. Bayne; and you were wonderful. You must have thought I was mad, but you didn’t flutter an eyelid or even smile. I have never forgotten--and I’ve never forgiven myself either. When I think of how the steward saw you and told the captain, and of how they searched your baggage that dreadful day--” “It didn’t matter a brass farden!” I hastened to assure her, for she had paused and was gazing at me, large-eyed and pale. “Don’t think of that any more. Suppose we skip to Paris! Blenheim followed you there, hoping he was on the scent of the vanished papers; and when you arrived at the rue St.-Dominique, there was still no news of the duke.” “No news,” she mourned; “not a word. And Enid was ill and hopeless; from the very first she had felt sure that Jean was dead. But I wouldn’t admit it. I said we must try to find him. All the way over in the steamer I had been making a sort of plan. “You see, one of the papers had described how the French had found Jean’s airship lying in the forest of La Fay, as if he had abandoned it from choice. That was considered proof of his treason; but of course I knew that it wasn’t. I remembered that the Marquis of Prezelay, Jean’s cousin, had a castle on the forest outskirts; I had been to visit it with Jean and Enid. I wondered if he might be there. “The more I thought of it, the likelier it seemed. If he had been wounded and had wanted to hide his papers, he would have remembered the castle and the secret panel in the wall. Even if he were--dead, which I wouldn’t believe, it would clear his name if I found the proof of it. So I told Enid I would go to Prezelay.” I was resting my arms on my knees and groaning softly. “Oh, Lord, oh, Lord!” I murmured, wishing I could stop my ears. When I thought of that brave venture of the girl’s and its perils and what had nearly come of it I found myself shuddering; and yet I was growing prouder of her with every word.