Part 10 (2/2)

”No matter. He will be a.s.sessed all the same.” Mr. Sleight took up his hat.

”The Lascar seaman that was here the other day has been wanting to see you, sir. I said you were busy.”

Mr. Sleight put down his hat. ”Send him up.”

Nevertheless Mr. Sleight sat down and at once abstracted himself so completely as to be apparently in utter oblivion of the man who entered. He was lithe and Indian-looking; bearing in dress and manner the careless slouch without the easy frankness of a sailor.

”Well!” said Sleight without looking up.

”I was only wantin' to know ef you had any news for me, boss?”

”News?” echoed Sleight as if absently; ”news of what?”

”That little matter of the Pontiac we talked about, boss,” returned the Lascar with an uneasy servility in the whites of his teeth and eyes.

”Oh,” said Sleight, ”that's played out. It's a regular fraud. It's an old forecastle yarn, my man, that you can't reel off in the cabin.”

The sailor's face darkened.

”The man who was looking into it has thrown the whole thing up. I tell you it's played out!” repeated Sleight, without raising his head.

”It's true, boss--every word,” said the Lascar, with an appealing insinuation that seemed to struggle hard with savage earnestness. ”You can swear me, boss; I wouldn't lie to a gentleman like you. Your man hasn't half looked, or else--it must be there, or--”

”That's just it,” said Sleight slowly; ”who's to know that your friends haven't been there already?--that seems to have been your style.”

”But no one knew it but me, until I told you, I swear to G.o.d. I ain't lying, boss, and I ain't drunk. Say--don't give it up, boss. That man of yours likely don't believe it, because he don't know anything about it. I DO--I could find it.”

A silence followed. Mr. Sleight remained completely absorbed in his papers for some moments. Then glancing at the Lascar, he took his pen, wrote a hurried note, folded it, addressed it, and, holding it between his fingers, leaned back in his chair.

”If you choose to take this note to my man, he may give it another show. Mind, I don't say that he WILL. He's going to Sacramento to-night, but you could go down there and find him before he starts.

He's got a room there, I believe. While you're waiting for him, you might keep your eyes open to satisfy yourself.”

”Ay, ay, sir,” said the sailor, eagerly endeavoring to catch the eye of his employer. But Mr. Sleight looked straight before him, and he turned to go.

”The Sacramento boat goes at nine,” said Mr. Sleight quietly.

This time their glances met, and the Lascar's eye glistened with subtle intelligence. The next moment he was gone, and Mr. Sleight again became absorbed in his papers.

Meanwhile Renshaw was making his way back to the Pontiac with that light-hearted optimism that had characterized his parting with Sleight.

It was this quality of his nature, fostered perhaps by the easy civilization in which he moved, that had originally drawn him into relations with the man he had just quitted; a quality that had been troubled and darkened by those relations, yet, when they were broken, at once returned. It consequently did not occur to him that he had only selfishly compromised with the difficulty; it seemed to him enough that he had withdrawn from a compact he thought dishonorable; he was not called upon to betray his partner in that compact merely to benefit others. He had been willing to incur suspicion and loss to reinstate himself in his self-respect, more he could not do without justifying that suspicion. The view taken by Sleight was, after all, that which most business men would take--which even the unbusiness-like Nott would take--which the girl herself might be tempted to listen to. Clearly he could do nothing but abandon the Pontiac and her owner to the fate he could not in honor avert. And even that fate was problematical. It did not follow that the treasure was still concealed in the Pontiac, nor that Nott would be willing to sell her. He would make some excuse to Nott--he smiled to think he would probably be cla.s.sed in the long line of absconding tenants--he would say good-by to Rosey, and leave for Sacramento that night. He ascended the stairs to the gangway with a freer breast than when he first entered the s.h.i.+p.

Mr. Nott was evidently absent, and after a quick glance at the half-open cabin door, Renshaw turned towards the galley. But Miss Rosey was not in her accustomed haunt, and with a feeling of disappointment, which seemed inconsistent with so slight a cause, he crossed the deck impatiently and entered his room. He was about to close the door when the prolonged rustle of a trailing skirt in the pa.s.sage attracted his attention. The sound was so unlike that made by any garment worn by Rosey that he remained motionless, with his hand on the door. The sound approached nearer, and the next moment a white veiled figure with a trailing skirt slowly swept past the room.

Renshaw's pulses halted for an instant in half superst.i.tious awe. As the apparition glided on and vanished in the cabin door he could only see that it was the form of a beautiful and graceful woman--but nothing more. Bewildered and curious, he forgot himself so far as to follow it, and impulsively entered the cabin. The figure turned, uttered a little cry, threw the veil aside, and showed the half troubled, half blus.h.i.+ng face of Rosey.

”I--beg--your pardon,” stammered Renshaw; ”I didn't know it was you.”

”I was trying on some things,” said Rosey, recovering her composure and pointing to an open trunk that seemed to contain a theatrical wardrobe--”some things father gave me long ago. I wanted to see if there was anything I could use. I thought I was all alone in the s.h.i.+p, but fancying I heard a noise forward I came out to see what it was. I suppose it must have been you.”

She raised her clear eyes to his, with a slight touch of womanly reserve that was so incompatible with any vulgar vanity or girlish coquetry that he became the more embarra.s.sed. Her dress, too, of a slightly antique shape, rich but simple, seemed to reveal and accent a certain repose of gentlewomanliness, that he was now wis.h.i.+ng to believe he had always noticed. Conscious of a superiority in her that now seemed to change their relations completely, he alone remained silent, awkward, and embarra.s.sed before the girl who had taken care of his room, and who cooked in the galley! What he had thoughtlessly considered a merely vulgar business intrigue against her stupid father, now to his extravagant fancy a.s.sumed the proportions of a sacrilege to herself.

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