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Updated: June 4, 2025
The Count von Hern travels by the Lusitania only because it was reported that Sirdeller at the last minute changed his mind, and was travelling by that boat. Mix these things up in your brain the conjurer's hat, let us call it," Sogrange concluded, laying his hand upon Peter's arm.
"I shall not inform the Count von Hern of our conversation. It is not necessary, and, between ourselves, the Count is jealous. He sends me message after message that I remain in my stateroom, that I seek no interview with Sirdeller, that I watch only. He is too much of the spy the Count von Hern. He does not understand that code of honor, relying upon which I open my heart to you."
Before him stood the Duchesse, Peter and Sogrange. Guarding the door was one of the watchmen, who, from his great physique, might well have been a policeman out of livery. Sirdeller himself, in the clear light which streamed through the large window, seemed more aged and shrunken than ever. His eyes were deep set. No tinge of color was visible in his cheeks.
Her voice broke. There was something grim and unnatural in that curious stillness. Even the secretary was at last breathing a little faster. The watchman at the door was leaning forward. Sirdeller simply moved his hand to the doctor, who held up his finger while he felt the pulse. The beat of his watch seemed to sound through the unnatural silence. In a minute he spoke.
"I will hear this story," Sirdeller announced. "In two minutes every one must leave. If it takes longer, it must remain unfinished." Peter spoke up briskly. "The story is this," he began. "You have promised to assist the Prince of Marsine to transform Spain into a republic, providing the salvage operations on the Maine prove that that ship was destroyed from outside.
His eyes blazed with excitement. He was absolutely unable to control his feelings. "My two friends," he cried, in a tone broken with emotion, "it is you first who shall hear the news! This message has just arrived. Sirdeller will have received its duplicate. The final report of the works in Havana Harbour will await us on our arrival in New York, but the substance of it is this.
"Is it for the sea voyage that you and your friend the Baron de Grost cross the Atlantic this particular week, on the same steamer as myself, as Mr. Sirdeller, and and the Duchesse? One does not believe in such coincidences! One is driven to conclude that it is your intention to interfere." "The affair almost demands our interference," Sogrange replied, smoothly.
Mix these things up in your brain the conjurer's hat, let us call it," Sogrange concluded, laying his hand upon Peter's arm, "Sirdeller, the Duchesse, Von Hern, Marsine, the raising of the Maine mix them up and what sort of an omelette appears?" Peter whistled softly. "No wonder," he said, "that you couldn't make the pieces of the puzzle fit. Tell me more about the Duchesse?"
"You mean Sirdeller's motives?" "Not at all," Peter answered. "An hour ago, I came across the explanation of these. The one thing I will tell you afterwards. Now listen. Sirdeller came abroad last year for twelve months' travel. He took a great house in San Sebastian." "Where did you hear this?" Sogrange asked. "I read the story in the New York Herald," Peter continued.
The principal sitting-room of the royal suite, which was the chief glory of the Adriatic, had been stripped of every superfluous article of furniture or embellishment. Curtains had been removed, all evidences of luxury disposed of. Temporarily the apartment had been transformed into a bare, cheerless place. Seated on a high chair, with his back to the wall, was Sirdeller.
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