Part 24 (1/2)

”I trust that I'm not in the way, Mr. Lester?” inquired a low, provoking voice at my side, and I awoke to the fact that I had again been guilty of forgetting my companion.

”Miss Kemball,” I began desperately, ”let me confess that I'm in an exceedingly vexatious situation. The fact that I can't ask advice makes it worse.”

”You can't ask even Mr. Royce?” she queried, with raised brows.

”He least of all. You see, he's just recovering from a severe nervous breakdown--he must have quiet--that's one reason he's taking this voyage.”

”I see,” she nodded.

I glanced at her again--at the open, candid eyes, the forceful mouth and chin--and I took a sudden resolution.

”Miss Kemball,” I said, ”I'm going to ask your help--that is, if I may.”

”Of course you may.”

”Well, then, that man who came on board last is the inveterate enemy of both Mr. Royce and myself. We're trying to unearth a particularly atrocious piece of villainy in which he's concerned. I have reason to believe him capable of anything, and a very fiend of cleverness. I don't know what he may plot against us, but I'm certain he'll plot something. Mr. Royce doesn't even know him by sight, and shouldn't be worried; but, unless he's forewarned, he may walk right into danger. I want you to help me keep an eye on him--to help me keep him out of danger. If we look after him closely enough, I shan't need to warn him. Will you help me?”

Her eyes were dancing as she looked up at me.

”Why, certainly!” she cried. ”So we're to have a mystery--just we two!”

”Just we two!” I a.s.sented with a quickened pulse.

She looked at me doubtfully for a moment.

”I must remember Mr. Graham's warning,” she said. ”You haven't invented this astonis.h.i.+ng story just to entertain me, Mr. Lester?”

”On my word, no,” I responded, a little bitterly. ”I only wish I had!”

”There,” she said contritely; ”I shouldn't have doubted! Forgive me, Mr. Lester. Only it seemed so fantastic--so improbable----”

”It _is_ fantastic,” I a.s.sented, ”but, unfortunately, it is true. We must keep an eye on Monsieur Martigny or Bethune.”

”Which is his real name?”

”Those are the only ones I know, but I doubt if either is the true one.”

Royce and Mrs. Kemball joined us a moment later, and we sat watching the low, distant Long Island sh.o.r.e until the gong summoned us to lunch. A word to the steward had secured us one of the small tables in an alcove at the side--Mrs. Kemball and her daughter surrendered the grandeurs of the captain's table willingly, even gladly, to minister to us--and the meal was a merry one, Mr. Royce seeming in such spirits that I was more than ever determined not to disturb him with the knowledge of Martigny's presence.

As the moments pa.s.sed, my fears seemed more and more uncalled for. It was quite possible, I told myself, that I had been making a bogy of my own imaginings. The Frenchman did not appear in the saloon, and, afterwards, an inquiry of the s.h.i.+p's doctor developed the fact that he was seriously ill, and quite unable to leave his state room.

So afternoon and evening pa.s.sed. There were others on board who claimed their share of the charming Mrs. Kemball and her daughter. Mr.

Royce knew a few of them, too, and introduced me to them, but I found their talk somehow flat and savorless. I fancied that my companion looked slightly wearied, too, and at last we stole away to our deck chairs, where we sat for an hour or more looking out across the dancing waves, listening to the splash of the boat as she rose and fell over them. He was thinking, no doubt, of a certain dark beauty, whose caprices there was no explaining. As for me--well, I had suddenly developed a st.u.r.dy preference for blue eyes.

I may as well confess at once that I was seasick. It came next morning, ten minutes after I had left my berth--not a violent sickness, but a faintness and giddiness that made me long for my berth again. But Mr. Royce would not hear of it. He got me out on deck and into my chair, with the fresh breeze blowing full in my face.

There was a long line of chairs drawn up there, and from the faces of most of their occupants, I judged they were far more miserable than I.

At the end of an hour, thanks to this treatment, I felt almost well again, and could devour with some appet.i.te the luncheon which Mr.

Royce ordered for me.