Felix, after an uneventful voyage, landed duly at Liverpool. To his amazement the first person he saw upon the quay was Mr. Sabin, leaning upon his stick and smoking a cigarette.
"Come, come, Felix!" he exclaimed. "Don't look at me as though I were a ghost. You have very little confidence in me, after all, I see."
"But - how did you get here?"
"The Campania, of course. I had plenty of time. It was easy enough for those fellows to arrest me, but they never had a chance of holding me."
"But how did you get away in time?"
Mr. Sabin sighed.
"It was very simple," he said. "One day, while one of those wonderful spies was sleeping on my doormat I slipped away and went over to Washington, saw the English Ambassador, convinced him of my bonafides, told him very nearly the whole truth. He promised if I wired him that I was arrested to take my case up at once. You sent the despatch, and he kept his word. I breakfasted on Saturday morning at the Waldorf, and though a great dray was driven into my carriage on the way to the boat, I escaped, as I always do - and here I am."
"Unhurt!" Felix remarked with a smile, "as usual!"
Mr. Sabin nodded.
"The driver of my carriage was killed, and Duson had his arm broken," he said. "I stepped out of the debris without a scratch. Come into the Customs House now and get your baggage through. I have taken a coupe on the special train and ordered lunch."
Before long they were on the way to London. Mr. Sabin, whilst luncheon was being served, talked only of the lightest matters.
But afterwards, when coffee was served and be had lit a cigarette, he leaned over towards Felix.
"Felix," he said, "your sister is dear to you?"
"She is the only creature on earth," Felix said, "whom I care for.
She is very dear to me, indeed."
"Am I right," Mr. Sabin asked, "in assuming that the old enmity between us is dead, that the last few years has wiped away the old soreness "Yes," Felix answered. "I know that she was happy with you. That is enough for me."
"You and I," Mr. Sabin continued, "must work out her salvation. Do not be afraid that I am going to ask you impossibilities. I know that our ways must lie apart. You can go to her at once. It may be many, many months before I can catch even a glimpse of her.
Never mind. Let me feel that she has you within the circle, and I without, with our lives devoted to her."
"You may rely upon that," Felix answered. "Wherever she is I am going. I shall be there. I will watch over her."
Mr. Sabin sighed.
"The more difficult task is mine," he said, "but I have no fear of failure. I shall find her surrounded by spies, by those who are now my enemies. Still, they will find it hard to shake me off. It may be that they took her from me only out of revenge. If that be so my task will be easier. If there are other dangers which she is called upon to face, it is still possible that they might accept my service instead."
"You would give it?" Felix exclaimed.
"To the last drop of blood in my body," Mr. Sabin answered. "Save for my love for her I am a dead man upon the earth. I have no longer politics or ambition. So the past can easily be expunged.
Those who must be her guiding influence shall be mine.
"You will win her back," Felix said. "I am sure of it."
"I am willing to pay any price on earth," Mr. Sabin answered. "If they can forget the past I can. I want you to remember this. I want her to know it. I want them to know it. That is all, Felix."
Mr. Sabin leaned back in his seat. He had left this country last a stricken and defeated man, left it with the echoes of his ruined schemes crashing in his ears. He came back to it a man with one purpose only, and that such a purpose as never before had guided him - the love of a woman. Was it a sign of age, he wondered, this return to the humanities? His life had been full of great schemes, he had wielded often a gigantic influence, more than once he had made history. And now the love of these things had gone from him.
Their fascination was powerless to quicken by a single beat his steady pulse. Monarchy or republic - what did he care? It was Lucille he wanted, the woman who had shown him how sweet even defeat might be, who had made these three years of his life so happy that they seemed to have passed in one delightful dream. Were they dead, annihilated, these old ambitions, the old love of great doings, or did they only slumber? He moved in his seat uneasily.
At Euston the two men separated with a silent handshake. Mr. Sabin drove to one of the largest and newest of the modern hotels de luxe.
