The Princess balked at the colloquialism. "And--and--don't talk to anyone ... What's that?... Oh, yes. '_Warren._'... There, he'll be coming over immediately." Jarvis, the executive, was now in action. He had emptied the trunk as she was talking, tossing out fascinating feminine mysteries of lace and silks, with a nonchalance which brought a twinkle into the dark eyes. He turned again. "Hurry, now--call up the clerk downstairs. Tell them to look out for Rusty and send him up here." More delicate symphonies of Parisian architecture were thrown on the floor, and Warren had taken out his pocket-knife. "Hello, hello," called the Princess. "I'm expecting a man." "A colored man," was Warren's parenthesis. "Yes,... a colored man ... to get some bundles. He will come right to the desk ... please send him up at once ... It is very important." The Princess observed Jarvis' attempt to bore a hole in the side of the trunk. He was laboring diligently, until the blade snapped. "Confound it!" "Why are you doing that?" "I must breathe, you know ... Now, how can I cut a hole in the blessed thing?" He scratched his forehead in a quandary. The Princess brought him her shears from the dresser. In a few minutes he had made two openings which seemed to satisfy him, but it had been no easy task. "What time does the boat sail?" "Nine o'clock." "Good. That will give Rusty time to get aboard with these trays and my baggage. Let me see, it is a quarter of six now--how quickly the dawn has slipped in!" There was a knock on the outer door, and Jarvis again disappeared behind the bathroom portal, with instinctive caution. At a call from the Princess, the door opened after she had slid back the upper bolt. The girl stepped back abashed at the appearance of the excited negro. Rusty rolled his eyes, suspiciously taking in the contents of the room. "Whar's Marse Warren?" and his voice was hoarse. Jarvis stepped into view. "Lawd bless you, Marse Warren. I done thought dat Marcum got you dis time." "Never mind what you thought. Help me wrap up these trays. We sail for Europe in two hours." Rusty gasped, shot another big-eyed look at the beautiful girl and then at his master. "Two hours--good Lawd!--you mean WE?" The Princess was holding out a steamer rug in silence. "Yes, Rusty, you and I. Here, give me a hand with this rug," and with the aid of his servant he made a quick job of the bundling. "Now, take these--with our baggage from the Belmont--to the steamship _Mauretania_ of the Cunard line. Buy accommodations.... Mind, you won't see me until after we get out to sea. You stay in your stateroom and sit tight until you hear from me." He took out his wallet.