The count restrained a smile. He bent down and possessed himself of her hand. "Dear lady," he said, "you must conceal this, even from your brother. It was a mad thing for your father to do! I think Baggin would kill him if he knew!" His own face hardened as he spoke. "But what's done can be undone." He leaned forward and dropped the paper upon the glowing coals. It smoked, then turned a deep quivering red, against which the letters were blackly visible. "Look!" he exclaimed softly. One phrase stood out strong and clear upon the darkening ashes. "'Trust Poltavo!'" Doris whispered. She bent a little toward him. Her eyes were luminous, and her red lips parted. "It is a good omen!" she breathed. "And you will trust me in this matter?" he asked. She nodded gravely. He raised her fingers to his lips and kissed them. "And in others, also?" She flushed warmly. "You must not speak of such things now. I must not listen. I can think only of my father. He is not dead--for that I thank Heaven. But he is in danger--great danger, both from Baggin and the law. He--he loved me more than his millions, and wrote to reassure me of his safety. Oh!" she exclaimed passionately, "he is not bad, Count Poltavo--as Baggin is--as I once thought you were--but only weak, and swayed by his imagination. He sees things big. He dreams of a financial empire such as the world never knew." The count looked at her, and smiled queerly. "And you wish me to find your father?" he questioned. "Yes, or take me to him!" "And after that?" he demanded a little eagerly. "After that," she replied wearily, "you may say what you will." "Until that hour, then," he said gently, "I shall set a seal upon my lips." A silence fell between them. The count brooded, his eyelids down-dropped, his chin propped in the palm of his hand. A ruby, set in a curious antique ring, gleamed dully from his finger. "I think," he observed finally in a low voice, "that Mr. Grayson is, by this time, safely upon the Continent. Paris--Rome?" He shook his head. "Too dangerous. Madrid? It is possible. Yes." He nodded, and then sat erect. "To-night, mademoiselle," he announced, "I shall start for Madrid to find your father." She thanked him with her eyes. "And you will stop this terrible scheme--you will save him from Baggin?" "I will save him from Baggin!" he promised grimly. "More than that, dear lady, I cannot undertake." She gave him a shining look. "Ah, you are good," she whispered. She laid a hand on his arm. "Good and--and faithful!"