Compelled to remain inactive, I idled in the club with the recollection of that pictured face ever before me--the face of the unfortunate girl who wished her last message to be conveyed to Philip Hornby.

What, I wondered, was her secret?
What was really her fate?
This latter question troubled me until I could bear it no longer.

I felt that it was my duty to go to Finland and endeavor to learn something regarding this Baron Oberg and his niece.

Frank Hutcheson had written me declaring that the weather in Leghorn was now perfect, and expressing wonder that I did not return.

I was his only English friend, and I knew how dull he was when alone.