Part 28 (1/2)
”Ah, he would tell me, of course!” laughed Koltsoff sarcastically. ”In any event, I have yet to know him. He was at Was.h.i.+ngton when I arrived in Newport, and since his return has been at the Torpedo Station but one night. My men have not been able to find him.”
Anne had forgotten her weariness now.
”There seems to be something, at least, in the American Navy that you find worthy of close interest,” she said.
An expression of indifference settled upon the Prince's face.
”Ah, if you know of the Navy, you know the nations are always interested in the new devices and plans of other nations. I once paid fifteen thousand roubles for the plans of an English fort.”
”And so diplomacy is stealing or buying information, then?”
”Diplomacy is anything, Anne.”
”You interest me, Prince Koltsoff.”
”But the _D'Estang_--I imagine she was not successful with her torpedoing.” Inwardly he was cursing Yeasky, as he had been all the evening; Yeasky had never missed a trip of the _D'Estang_.
Anne, beginning to see, had worked into her cool, malicious mood.
”You must not be so imaginative,” she gaped [Transcriber's note: gasped?]. ”And now if you 'll excuse me--it's two o'clock.”
”But Anne--Miss Wellington!” The Prince was at her side. ”You do not really intend to deny me!” He shook his head, as though dazed. ”It cannot be possible that our understanding is so incomplete. I had dared to hope, to believe that our interests were so swiftly merging.
And what is it that I ask! Merely a slight question about the _D'Estang_. Anne--is it upon so little a thing that you fail me?
Would that you might try _me_ with a bigger, greater test. You should see!”
”Do you mean that, really?”
”As G.o.d is my judge!” cried the Prince fervently.
”Then,” said Anne seriously, ”say good-night to me. Pardon me, but I am tired.”
”But the _D'Estang_,” cried Koltsoff insistently. ”My plans--my life--”
”What!” interrupted Anne, as a thought was born of his words. ”I understood that this was merely a matter of routine naval intelligence.”
Koltsoff mopped his forehead.
”That is true,” he hastened to say, ”but matters of routine are the greater part of the lives of such as we. Our success depends upon it, alone. Pardon me, but I must insist that you tell me what I have asked.” He had almost backed her against the wainscoting.
”And I won't tell you, Prince Koltsoff.”
”Why not, pray?”
”I will tell you why,” her voice quivered with emotion. ”This morning you convinced me pretty thoroughly that I had no right to call myself an American. I still feel that way, don't you know. But to-night I 've seen brave and devoted men risking their lives and perfecting themselves in their calling not only through professional interest but through love of their country and their flag, and dare-devil enthusiasm in serving under a flag that means so much to them. The father of the junior officer on the _D'Estang_ is a farmer and the captain of the _Barclay_ is the son of an insurance clerk. But they're all of one cut and out of one mould--American fighting men who would shoot or knock down any one who dared utter in their presence such words as I have listened to from you--more shame to me--without a single emotion, save amus.e.m.e.nt.” She ran on breathlessly, ”Whatever happened on the _D'Estang_ to-night, important or unimportant, is the concern of the Navy of my country alone. Hereafter, in anything you say or do, Prince Koltsoff, remember I am learning to be an American--” she stopped and smiled at her own ardor, ”so please don't say anything to discourage me.”
Koltsoff, who had been listening in silence, without making a movement, suddenly bowed his head.
”I am sorry, Miss Wellington!” His voice was broken and sincerely so.