Part 15 (1/2)

”Really, Chrysie, I don't wish to know, and I don't think you ought to know,” said Lady Olive, still more stiffly.

”Well,” replied Chrysie, defiantly, ”I am sorry I riled you, but I do know it; and honestly, Olive, it's what's you and I and all of us ought to know.”

At this Lady Olive's curiosity appealed very strongly to her sense of the proprieties, and she said more amiably:

”Do you really mean, Chrysie, that there's something serious in it--that, for instance, it has anything to do with the works?”

”I don't know yet,” said Chrysie, ”but I've got a pretty good copy of it in my satchel, thanks to those awful pencils they give you to use in British telegraph offices. Anyhow, it was addressed to Count Valdemar, _Yacht Vlodoya_, Cherbourg; and Cherbourg's not on the way to the Baltic, is it? Let's go and have an ice and some cakes somewhere, so that I can read what is written.”

”That's very strange,” said Lady Olive, ”and the Count professed to be in such a hurry to get back to Petersburg. What on earth can he be doing at Cherbourg?”

”I reckon poppa and the viscount would give something to know that, too,” said Chrysie, as they turned into a confectioner's. They ordered ices, and Chrysie took the telegram form out of her satchel and unfolded it gingerly. Her pretty brows puckered over it for a few moments, as she slanted it this way and that to get the light on it.

Then she put her elbows on the little marble table, and said in a low tone:

”It's in French, and it tells the Count that the _Nadine_ starts this evening instead of to-morrow morning. The last word is 'Depechez,' and that's French for 'Make haste,' isn't it? Now, do you think I was right in doing a very improper thing--which, of course, it was?”

”I'm afraid you were, Chrysie,” said Lady Olive. ”It's certainly very mysterious. How is the telegram signed?”

”There isn't any signature,” replied Chrysie. ”Our friend's a bit too cute for that.”

”What on earth do you mean, Chrysie?” said Lady Olive, with a note of alarm in her voice. ”What friend?”

Chrysie looked up and said, with a snap of her eyes: ”What other friend than M'am'selle Felice's mistress--the n.o.ble Adelaide de Conde?”

Lady Olive started. To her straightforward English sense of honour it seemed impossible that a woman so gently bred as Adelaide de Conde could accept her father's hospitality, and yet send such a message as this to those who might before long be the enemies of his country.

”Chrysie,” she said, ”I could not believe that for a moment. It is utterly incredible that the marquise could be guilty of anything of the sort. I admit that it is very suspicious that the _Vlodoya_ should be at Cherbourg instead of on her way to the Baltic, and that Adelaide's maid should send such a message; but it seems to me much more likely that Felice is in the pay of these Russians, and that her mistress knows nothing about it.”

”Well,” said Chrysie, rising, ”we shall see. Now I guess we'd better be getting down on board. I shall give this to the viscount, and he can have a council of war on it.”

”The viscount!” smiled Lady Olive, as they went out into the street.

”How very formal we are, Chrysie. Why don't you call him Shafto?”

”Because I won't let him call me Chrysie--yet,” was the reply.

CHAPTER XIX

When the _Nadine_ left her moorings, at about four o'clock on a lovely June afternoon, she sauntered easily down to the Needles at about twelve knots. For reasons of his own her owner had never put her to full speed in crowded waters, or, in fact, where any other craft was near enough to see what she could do. On deck the princ.i.p.al actors in the tragedy that was to come were sitting in deck-chairs or strolling about, chatting in the most friendly fas.h.i.+on possible, just as though the graceful little vessel was not practically carrying the fate of the world as she slipped so smoothly and swiftly through the swirling water that ran along her white sides.

Until nightfall she continued at the same speed; but when dinner was over, and the lights were up, Hardress lit a cigar and went on to the bridge, and said to the commander:

”Captain Burgess, I think you can let her go now. Full speed ahead, right away to Halifax. As I have told you, it is most urgent that we should be there in between five and six days. Of course, everything depends on the engines, and I think it would be well to work the engine-room staff in treble s.h.i.+fts, just to see that nothing goes wrong. Any accident in the engine-room would mean a good deal to me.

So you may tell the stokers and engineers that if everything goes smoothly, and we get to Halifax by the 15th--that's giving you five days and a bit from now--there will be a hundred pounds extra to be divided among them when we've coaled up again at Halifax. You understand, I want those engines looked after as though they were a lady's watch.”

”Certainly, my lord,” replied the captain. ”I hope, sir, you don't think that anything of that sort is necessary for the working of the _Nadine_; but, of course, the engine-room staff will be very glad to accept your lords.h.i.+p's generosity.”