But where should she arrange to see the governor? If she were to appoint a rendezvous in any cafe, or private house, or street, or even church, he might fear some plot and remain away; or if he came, he would contrive that they should be under the surveillance of a secret guard, and it would be in his power to seize her at any moment. Moreover, even if he were agreeable to her proposal, they might be observed by some of the city’s omnipresent spies and fatal suspicion be aroused. Any plan she could devise that would succeed in gaining her an audience with him required that she should put herself in his power. Hence, what seemed the boldest course was in reality the safest course, and also was the simplest. On some pretense of business she would call upon the governor in the Fortress. If he accepted her proposal, she had taken the course least likely to rouse outside suspicion. If he rejected it, then, to be sure, she was caught in that vast prison trap, but no more securely caught than if seized in street or cafe by the governor’s surveillant guard. During all this talk The White One leaned back and spoke but little, though she weighed every suggestion. As she had said, Sonya was the leader in this affair, and it was no part of her generalship to reassume an authority that had been vested in a deputy. So much of the plan settled upon, nothing more could be done till Delwig had been sounded. Sonya and Drexel rose to depart, leaving The White One and the three men to discuss other matters. Once more the old woman stretched out to him her wasted hand. “Good-night, Mr. Drexel. Do not despair because we have given you nothing to do. Before we are through you may have more than you desire!”