ng," said
Franklin Marmion, taking a piece of folded tracing paper out of the
inside pocket of his coat. "I yield to circumstance. The name of your
new ship convinces me that I was wrong in certain other circumstances.
You will give me a passage to Viborg on the _Nitocris_. You will take
French leave of the fleet as soon as you sight Kronstadt, get into
Viborg Bay at your best speed, land your men, take the Castle, which is
quite undefended, bring away Prince Zastrow and Oscarovitch, and, of
course, Niti; put your two princes on board the flagship, bring them
back to England, and dictate terms from London. It seems a good deal to
do, but I will make it possible, if you are prepared to do as I advise
you. There is the chart showing the approaches to Oscarburg."

"I'll do it, sir," said Merrill, taking the tracing from his hand. "I'll
break every regulation of the Service into little pieces to get that
done. Now, I ought to be getting on board. Are you ready?"

"Quite," said Franklin Marmion, rising from his chair. "I see now where
the man of action comes in. I did not see that before, I must confess."

CHAPTER XXVII

THE BRIDAL OF OSCAROVITCH

The Special Service Squadron steamed out of Spithead as the clock of
Portsmouth Town Hall chimed twelve that night. Thirty-six hours later a
marriage ceremony took place in the chapel of the Castle of Oscarburg.
It was performed according to the rites of the Orthodox Church, and the
witnesses were Prince Zastrow and his medical attendant, Doctor Hugo.
The retainers of the Castle, headed by the major-domo and the
housekeeper, formed the congregation. Jenny was up in her mistress' room
packing as though for an immediate departure. She was very frightened at
the happenings of the past three or four days, but she contented herself
with the thought that her mistress was going to be a princess, and that,
therefore, her own lot in life would be brightened with reflected glory.

When the ceremony was over, the wedding feast was held in the great
dining-hall of the Castle after the ancient Finnish style. When the
loving-cup had been drunk, Nitocris took leave of her lord and went to
her room. The bridal chamber was blazing with light, and the great
silken-hung bed was a couch fit for a queen. She turned the draperies
down, laid herself dressed on the thick, downy bed, and then got up and
went back to her own.

"I shall sleep here to-night, Jenny, and I shall not undress. You