"Good night, your Royal Highness," was Allard's reply, but his straight eloquent glance carried its message to the other's heart. Alone at last in the coquettish suite set apart for him--the jewel-box luxury of the yacht here manifested in azure and silver daintiness--the great reaction seized Allard. So few hours since, he was Leroy; it was hard to grasp this reality. He was weary to exhaustion, but something very near fever drove him to the round window which swung back at his touch and let the wet sweet air rush in. Leaning there, the very chaos of his thoughts left physical torpor. Petro aroused him an hour later--and still with that curious passivity Allard allowed himself to be cared for, measured, respectfully consulted. He even found himself ordering the old dishes for breakfast, specifying the old hour of service. And with the once familiar comfort came more restfulness. Much later he came a second time to the round window and opened it to the rain and darkness. The April wind passed chill fingers among the boyish curls still warm from the bath, the tiny cold drops sprinkled the throat from which the departed Dancla's silken dressing-gown fell back, but Allard felt nothing. And suddenly his head sank on his arm. "Desmond," he breathed, "I can forgive you, now. Can you hear out there, Desmond?" The yacht slipped on through the mist, monotonously, steadily. CHAPTER V THE NEW DAY The morning sunlight penetrated the room riotously, merrily defying the azure silk and lace muffling the windows, glinting in every polished surface and running golden-footed from point to point. Lying tranquilly among his pillows, Allard watched the man busied in folding and laying away a multitudinous array of garments, placing gloves and handkerchiefs in drawers and arranging toilet articles. "You are not Petro," Allard remarked finally. The man started and turned. "No, monsieur. With monsieur's permission, I am Vladimir. His Royal Highness said that as monsieur had not yet engaged a valet for the voyage, perhaps I might be accepted. I would be very glad to serve monsieur." "Very well," Allard assented. Stanief was not to be contradicted, but certainly embarrassment seemed unavoidable in view of an absent wardrobe. Dancla had been of a decidedly different figure from his successor. "What time is it?" "Nearly ten o'clock, monsieur," and he approached and kissed the hand outside the coverlet before the surprised American could object. "Every thanks, monsieur; I am monsieur's devoted servant. It pleases monsieur to rise?" "I--suppose so. The yacht has stopped." "Yes, monsieur. We are anchored before the great city, New York, since many hours."