He shook his head.

"A good guess, but wrong," he said. "It is money. I know sufficient of the area to believe the story of Von Kempelen's success, and I know sufficient of Annie's strength to believe that she will succeed in discovering his secrets. And I am sufficiently wealthy to have my own affairs disposed in such a fashion that any serious disturbance in the price of gold could be disastrous to me. I am uniquely positioned both for being harmed by them, and for anticipating them and thwarting them. So your reason is love, mine is money, and we can leave revenge out of this. We are therefore, as I see it, natural allies."

"It does look that way," I said. "And I'm certainly willing to go with you against them."

He pushed himself away from the workbench, smiling.

"Good, that's settled," he remarked.

He crossed the room to a small writing table, seated himself, took out stationery, ink, a pen, and began writing even as he continued speaking: "Shortly, I must introduce you to my own chief mesmeric consultant, Monsieur Ernest Valdemar."

"I should be happy to meet him," I stated.

"To be sure, to be sure," he replied. "You are to take command here, to pursue these men, to thwart them, to recover your lady."

"Me? Take command?" I inquired.

"Yes. Good that you're a military man, isn't it?"

"I don't understand. What of you?"

"Long sea voyages upset me in the extreme these days," he replied, "and I believe that Griswold and company will be heading for Europe shortly, since that is where Von Kempelen's fled."

"Where in Europe?"

"You'll have to apply to Monsieur Valdemar for that information."

"When might I get to meet him?"

"His nurse, Miss Ligeia, will introduce you at some point."

"The man is an invalid?"

"Oh, he has his problems. But his virtues more than compensate."

He completed a page, began another.