"I have no one, nothing," he answered earnestly. "The purpose for which I gave all is accomplished and laid aside. Your Royal Highness, if you will let me serve you, take your purpose for my goal, your life for my empty existence, I will give you all I can." Stanief's firm clasp closed. "Agreed. _Soit que soit._" And Allard repeated the promise as seriously: "Be what may." The whistle of a passing tug, laboring through the mists toward Haverstraw with its train of scows, drew the corresponding blare of the yacht's siren. Involuntarily Allard started, his over-strained nerves shrinking. Stanief smiled. "Let Rome howl, John, I may call you John, since we commenced so? Indeed I must, after giving you that name in public. You are mine now, and all America can not take you. Rest so far; it is one of our old sayings at home: 'A Stanief guards his own!'" His own! The long loneliness snatched the phrase greedily; worn out, Allard submitted to protection without resentment. A student of men, Stanief's eyes smiled behind their lashes as he continued more lightly: "But now for details. You take the place of my secretary, whom I dismissed this afternoon and saw on board a train for Albany, very much against his will and very badly frightened. I have ordered his rooms prepared for you. His things are there, and I imagine you will probably find some of them you can use until your own arrive in the morning. I will send Petro to you; his ideas are confined to doing as he is told, and I shall tell him that my invitation left you no time for packing. Of course you will resume your own name." Allard drew back aghast at such a proposition. "My own name--" "Why not?" Stanief demanded. "Could anything be more safe? Masquerades are always dangerous and to be avoided. John Allard's unquestioned history, his journey abroad from which he reappears as my secretary, defy all investigation, where an assumed name and past could only arouse doubt. If you were challenged now as the escaped prisoner, your safest course would be to give indignantly your own name, proving it by your Californian connections and by me. John Allard has stepped back upon his stage. Write to your brother, if you choose; pick up your old friendships. The last three years simply do not exist for you; knot the past and the future together and let the marred strand go." The logic was unanswerable; with a quivering breath Allard took back all he had resigned for ever. "You are right," he yielded, and bent his head to hide what flashed on his lashes. Stanief touched the bell and rose. "You are tired, and I have much to arrange. No doubt," the dark eyes were amusedly expressive, "Monsieur Allard is familiar enough with yachting not to be bored to-morrow. You will find Vasili a cheerful companion, Rosal also. Marzio, show monsieur his rooms and send me Petro. And tell Captain Delsar that I shall have pleasure in receiving him. Good night, John."