Then upon the paper I wrote--
"Is the Baron Oberg your uncle?"
She shook her head in the negative, showing that the dreaded
Governor-General of Finland had only acted a part towards her in which
she had been compelled to concur.
"Who is Philip Hornby?" I inquired, writing rapidly.
"My friend--at least, I believe so."
Friend! And I had all along believed him to be an adventurer and an
enemy!
"Why did he go to Leghorn?" I asked.
"For a secret purpose. There was a plot to kill you, only I managed to
thwart them," were the words she printed with much labor.
"Then I owe my life to you," I wrote. "And in return I will do my utmost
to rescue you from here, if you do not fear to place yourself in my
hands."
And to this she replied--
"I shall be thankful, for I cannot bear this awful place longer. I
believe they must torture the women here. They will torture me some day.
Do your best to get me out of here and I will tell you everything. But,"
she wrote, "I fear you can never secure my release.
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