“Yes, yes,” he exclaimed.  The feverish glitter in his eyes deepened.

“If there is a fog, of course you will not attempt the test,” she went on.

“No, not in a fog,” he put in quickly.  “It must be clear.”

“And if it is clear you can see the light in the dome without difficulty.”

“And all your plans are working out well?”

“Yes.  And yours?”

“I don’t think there is any question but that both England and the United States will buy.  Do you know what it means?  Do you know what it means?” He was silent a moment, his hands working nervously.  Then, with an effort:  “And his Highness?”

“His Highness is safe.”  The subtle eyes grew misty, thoughtful for a moment, then cleared again.  “He is safe,” she repeated.

“Mexico and Venezuela were—?” he began.

“We don’t know, yet, what they will do.  The Venezuelan answer is locked in the safe at the legation; I will know what it is within forty-eight hours.”  She was silent a little.  “Our difficulty now, our greatest difficulty, is the hostility of the French ambassador to the compact.  His government has not yet notified him of the presence of Prince d’Abruzzi; he does not believe in the feasibility of the plan, and we have to—­to proceed to extremes to prevent him working against us.”

“But they must see the incalculable advantages to follow upon such a compact, with the vast power that will be given to them over the whole earth by this.”  He indicated the long, littered work-table.  “They must see it.”

“They will see it, Luigi,” said Miss Thorne gently.  “And now, how are you?  Are you well?  Are you comfortable?  It’s such a dreary old place here.”

“I suppose so,” he replied, and he met the solicitous blue-gray eyes for an instant.  “Yes, I am quite comfortable,” he added.  “I have no time to be otherwise with all the work I must do.  It will mean so much!”

They were both silent for a time.  Finally Miss Thorne walked over to the long table and curiously lifted one of the spheroids.  It was a sinister looking thing, nickeled, glittering.  At one end of it was a delicate, vibratory apparatus, not unlike the transmitter of a telephone, and the other end was threaded, as if the spheroid was made as an attachment to some other device.

“With that we control the world!” exclaimed the man triumphantly.  “And it’s mine, Rosa, mine!”

“It’s wonderful!” she mused softly.  “Wonderful!  And now I must go.  I may not see you again until after the test, because I shall be watched and followed wherever I go.  If I get an opportunity I shall reach you by telephone, but not even that unless it is necessary.  There is always danger, always danger!” she repeated thoughtfully.  She was thinking of Mr. Grimm.

“I understand,” said the man simply.

“And look out for the signal—­the light in the apex of the capitol dome,” she went on.  “I understand the night must be perfectly clear; and you understand that the test is to be made promptly at three o’clock by your chronometer?”