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"You are the man to
do it. I am surprised at your density; Sigurd, the lunatic, has more
perception. He sees which way the wind blows,--and that's why he's so
desperately unhappy. He thinks--and thinks rightly too--that he will
lose his 'beautiful rose of the northern forest,' as he calls her,--and
that you are to be the robber. Hence his dislike to you. Dear me!" and
Lorimer lit a cigarette and puffed at it complacently. "It seems to me
that my wits are becoming sharper as I grow older, and that yours, my
dear boy,--pardon me! . . . are getting somewhat blunted, otherwise you
would certainly have perceived--" he broke off abruptly.
"Well, go on!" exclaimed Philip eagerly, with flashing eyes. "Perceived
what?"
Lorimer laughed. "That the boat containing your Sun-empress is coming
along very rapidly, old fellow, and that you'd better make haste to
receive her!"
This was the fact, and Duprez had risen from his chair and was waving
his French newspaper energetically to the approaching visitors.


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