Part 9 (2/2)
On his return he gave to the face of the officer the same sun-browned hue he had imparted to his own. While he was so employed, he explained that the tint was a fast color under ordinary circ.u.mstances, and in what manner it could be easily removed, though it would wear off in about a week.
”Now, you need only a little touching up,” continued the detective, when he had completed the dyeing process. ”You will be amazed at the change produced in the expression of a person by a few touches of paint skilfully applied,” and he proceeded to make the alteration proposed.
When he had finished his work, Christy looked in the gla.s.s, and declared that he should hardly know himself. The preparations were completed, and the French gentleman and his servant were ready to embark. But it was only eleven o'clock, and both of them turned in for a nap of a couple of hours. The captain had retired early in the evening, and the quartermaster conning the wheel was steering for the light, the Chateaugay making not more than six knots an hour.
At one o'clock the commander was called, in accordance with his order to the officer of the watch. He went on deck at once, had the log slate brought to him, and made some calculations, which resulted in an order to ring two bells, which meant ”Stop her.” Then he went to the ward room himself, and knocked at the doors of his two pa.s.sengers. Mr. Gilfleur and Christy sprang from their berths, and the two doors were opened at once. No toilet was necessary, for both of them had lain down with their clothes on.
”Pray, who might you be?” demanded the captain, laughing heartily when the detective showed himself in his new visage and dress. ”Can you inform me what has become of Mr. Gilfleur?”
”He has stepped out for a couple of days, and Monsieur Rubempre has taken his place,” replied the detective.
”And who is this gentleman?” asked Captain Chantor, turning to his other pa.s.senger, who was quite as much changed in appearance.
”Contrary to his usual custom, he does not claim to be a gentleman just now. This is Christophe, my servant, employed as such only for a couple of days,” answered Monsieur Rubempre.
”All right, Mr. Rub.u.mper! Three bells have just been struck, and the watch are putting your boat into the water,” continued the commander.
”I have directed the steward to fill your breaker with water, and put a small supply of provisions into the craft. We shall be ready for you in about half an hour.”
”We are all ready at this moment,” replied Monsieur Rubempre; for both of the pa.s.sengers had agreed to call each other by their a.s.sumed names at once, so as to get accustomed to them, and thus avoid committing themselves in any moment of excitement.
The detective came out of his room with a valise in his hand, which he had packed with extreme care, so that nothing should be found in it, in case of accident, to compromise him. He had superintended the placing of Christy's clothing in one of his valises. He objected to the initials, ”C. P.,” worked on his linen; but the owner had no other, and the difficulty was compromised by writing the name of ”Christophe Poireau”
on a number of pieces of paper and cards, and attaching a tag with this name upon it to the handle.
Both of them put on plain overcoats, and went on deck, where the boat, which had the name of Eleuthera painted on the stern, had already been committed to the waves.
CHAPTER IX
THE FRENCHMAN IN BERMUDA
”Bon voyage, Mr. Rub.u.mper,” said Captain Chanter, as the Frenchman was about to descend the accommodation ladder. ”I know French enough to say that.”
”Thank you, Captain.”
”I hope you will make a success of the enterprise, Mr. Pa.s.sford,” the commander added to the other member of the expedition.
”I shall do the best I can to make it so,” answered Christy, as he followed his companion down the accommodation ladder.
The detective shoved the boat off, and both of the voyagers took the oars to get the craft clear of the s.h.i.+p, which was accomplished in a few minutes. Then the Frenchman stepped the mast, which had been carefully adjusted on board of the s.h.i.+p, while Christy rigged out the s.h.i.+fting bowsprit. In half an hour they had placed the spars and bent on the sail, for everything had been prepared for expeditious work. The sails filled, and the skipper took his place at the long tiller.
”We are all right now, Christophe,” said the detective.
”I should say that we were, Monsieur Rubempre,” replied the acting servant. ”We have ten miles to make: with this breeze, how long will it take for this boat to do it?”
”If she sails as well as mine did, she will make it in two hours.”
The craft was about twenty feet long, and was sharp at both ends. She had a cuddy forward, which was large enough to accommodate both of her crew in a reclining posture. It had been furnished with a couple of berthsacks, and with several blankets. The provisions and water had been placed in it, as well as a couple of lanterns, ready for use if occasion should require.
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