Part 34 (1/2)
Suddenly a bell tinkled. There was a slight splash, a faint rumble and quiver.
Varney laughed. ”The pa.s.sion for poetry,” said he, ”is a curious and complex thing. Its origin is shrouded in the earliest dawn of civilization. It appears in man's first instinctive gropings toward written self-expression--”
”Why,” said Mary, in sudden surprise, ”_we are going!”_
CHAPTER XVIII
CAPTIVATING MARY
So Elbert Carstairs's dream had come true, and his daughter was going home to him at his desire. She stood on his yacht, as truly a prisoner as though she wore a ball and chain; and the beat of the engines, already gathering speed, was driving her straight toward that dock in Harlem whither he, within a very short time, would be driving down to meet her.
”Going? Of course we are,” said Varney.
He leaned against the rail and, looking at Mary, almost laughed at the thought of how easy and simple it was.
”The point of being on a yacht, Miss Carstairs, is to see her go.
Otherwise, one might as well sit in the den at home and look at pictures of them in the encyclopedia.”
”But I--didn't expect to go,” she said, gazing at him doubtfully--”only to look around a little. I'm really afraid I haven't time for a sail.”
”Well, you know,” he said cheerfully, ”as far as looking around is concerned, going doesn't necessarily take any longer than staying. In one case, you stay and look around: in the other you go and look around.
That is really all the difference, isn't it?”
”Well, then, it must be a little go and a short look around. Where does one begin, in looking around a yacht?”
It would have been plain to a far duller plotter that they should be fully clear of Hunston before he explained the situation to her more definitely.
”Suppose,” said Varney, ”we begin with a few general remarks of a descriptive nature. This vessel, Miss Carstairs, is what is known as a schooner-rigged steam-yacht. She stands a good bit under a hundred tons.
She is ninety feet long, eighteen feet in the beam and she draws ten feet--”
”I don't understand a word of that except ninety feet long, but it all has a perfectly splendid sound! But where can Mr. Hare be? Please send for him like a good host, and begin back at the beginning again. He just told me that yachts interested him intensely.”
”But, unfortunately, Mr. Hare is no longer with us.”
”Not with us? Why--did he _get off_?”
”He certainly did. He and Maginnis are a great pair, aren't they? Not a minute to give to pleasure or anything of that sort. I believe they slipped off to Hare's house for another of their eternal private talks.”
”But--” Mary stared astoundedly. ”He _said_ he was going around with us!
I asked him and he accepted. And besides,” she went on, rolling up the count against the unhappy candidate, ”he's got my parasol!”
”We detached that from him before he left. It's around on the other side. I'll send for it at once.”
But her puzzled frown lingered. ”I have known Mr. Hare well for six years,” she said, ”and this is the first time I ever knew him to do such an uncivil thing.”
”It wasn't his fault, depend upon it. Maginnis called him back, you know, and no doubt hauled him off bodily, positively refusing to let him pause for good-byes. A man of ruthless determination, is Maginnis.”