Part 29 (2/2)
Mr. Sabin walked upon deck. As he pa.s.sed the smoke-room he saw Mr. Watson stretched upon a sofa with a cigar in his mouth. Mr. Sabin smiled to himself, and pa.s.sed on.
The evening promenade on deck after dinner was quite a social event on board the Calipha. As a rule the captain and Mr. Sabin strolled together, none of the other pa.s.sengers, notwithstanding Mr. Sabin's courtesy towards them, having yet attempted in any way to thrust their society upon him. But to-night, as he had half expected, the captain had already a companion. Mrs. Watson, with a very becoming wrap around her head, and a cigarette in her mouth, was walking by his side, chatting gaily most of the time, but listening also with an air of absorbed interest to the personal experiences which her questions provoked. Every now and then, as they pa.s.sed Mr. Sabin, sometimes walking, sometimes gazing with an absorbed air at the distant chaos of sea and sky, she flashed a glance of invitation upon him, which he as often ignored. Once she half stopped and asked him some slight question, but he answered it briefly standing on one side, and the captain hurried her on. It was a stroke of ill-fortune, he thought to himself, the coming of these two people. He had had a clear start and a fair field; now he was suddenly face to face with a danger, the full extent of which it was hard to estimate. For he could scarcely doubt but that their coming was on his account. They had played their parts well, but they were secret agents of the German police. He smoked his cigar leisurely, the object every few minutes of many side glances and covert smiles from the delicately attired little lady, whose silken skirts, daintily raised from the ground, brushed against him every few minutes as she and her companion pa.s.sed and repa.s.sed. What was their plan of action? he wondered. If it was simply to be a.s.sa.s.sination, why so elaborate an artifice? and what worse place in the world could there be for anything of the sort than the narrow confines of a small steamer? No, there was evidently something more complex on hand. Was the woman brought as a decoy? he wondered; did they really imagine him capable of being dazzled or fascinated by any woman on the earth? He smiled softly at the thought, and the sight of that smile lingering upon his lips brought her to a standstill. He heard suddenly the swish of her skirt, and her soft voice in his ear. Lower down the deck the captain's broad shoulders were disappearing, as he pa.s.sed on the way to the engineers' room for his nightly visit of inspection.
”You have not made a single effort to rescue me,” she said reproachfully; ”you are most unkind.”
Mr. Sabin lifted his cap, and removed the cigar from his teeth.
”My dear lady,” he said, ”I have been suffering the pangs of the neglected, but how dared I break in upon so confidential a tete-a-tete?”
”You have little of the courage of your nation, then,” she answered laughing, ”for I gave you many opportunities. But you have been engrossed with your thoughts, and they succeeded at least where I failed--you were distinctly smiling when I came upon you.”
”It was a premonition,” he began, but she raised a little white hand, flas.h.i.+ng with rings, to his lips, and he was silent.
”Please don't think it necessary to talk nonsense to me all the time,” she begged. ”Come! I am tired--I want to sit down. Don't you want to take my chair down by the side of the boat there? I like to watch the lights on the water, and you may talk to me--if you like.”
”Your husband,” he remarked a moment or two later, as he arranged her cus.h.i.+ons, ”does not care for the evening air?”
”It is sufficient for him,” she answered quietly, ”that I prefer it. He will not leave the smoking-room until the lights are put out.”
”In an ordinary way,” he remarked, ”that must be dull for you.”
”In an ordinary way, and every way,” she answered in a low tone, ”I am always dull. But, after all, I must not weary a stranger with my woes. Tell me about yourself, Mr. Sabin. Are you going to America on pleasure, or have you business there?”
A faint smile flickered across Mr. Sabin's face. He watched the white ash trembling upon his cigar for a moment before he spoke.
”I can scarcely be said to be going to America on pleasure,” he answered, ”nor have I any business there. Let us agree that I am going because it is the one country in the world of any importance which I have never visited.”
”You have been a great traveller, then,” she murmured, looking up at him with innocent, wide-open eyes. ”You look as though you have been everywhere. Won't you tell me about some of the odd places you have visited?”
”With pleasure,” he answered; ”but first won't you gratify a natural and very specific curiosity of mine? I am going to a country which I have never visited before. Tell me a little about it. Let us talk about America.”
She stole a sudden, swift glance at her questioner. No, he did not appear to be watching her. His eyes were fixed idly upon the sheet of phosph.o.r.escent light which glittered in the steamer's track. Nevertheless, she was a little uneasy.
”America,” she said, after a moment's pause, ”is the one country I detest. We are only there very seldom--when Mr. Watson's business demands it. You could not seek for information from any one worse informed than I am.”
”How strange!” he said softly. ”You are the first unpatriotic American I have ever met.”
”You should be thankful,” she remarked, ”that I am an exception. Isn't it pleasant to meet people who are different from other people?”
”In the present case it is delightful!”
”I wonder,” she said reflectively, ”in which school you studied my s.e.x, and from what particular woman you learned the art of making those little speeches?”
”I can a.s.sure you that I am a novice,” he declared.
”Then you have a wonderful future before you. You will make a courtier, Mr. Sabin.”
”I shall be happy to be the humblest of attendants in the court where you are queen.”
”Such proficiency,” she murmured, ”is the hall mark of insincerity. You are not a man to be trusted, Mr. Sabin.”
”Try me,” he begged.
”I will! I will tell you a secret.”
”I will lock it in the furthest chamber of my inner consciousness.”
”I am going to America for a purpose.”
”Wonderful woman,” he murmured, ”to have a purpose.”
”I am going to get a divorce!”
Mr. Sabin was suddenly thoughtful.
”I have always understood,” he said, ”that the marriage laws of America are convenient.”
”They are humane. They make me thankful that I am an American.”
Mr. Sabin inclined his head slightly towards the smoking-room.
”Does your unfortunate husband know?”
”He does; and he acquiesces. He has no alternative. But is that quite nice of you, Mr. Sabin, to call my husband an unfortunate man?”
”I cannot conceive,” he said slowly, ”greater misery than to have possessed and lost you.”
She laughed gaily. Mr. Sabin permitted himself to admire that laugh. It was like the tinkling of a silver bell, and her teeth were perfect.
”You are incorrigible,” she said. ”I believe that if I would let you, you would make love to me.”
”If I thought,” he answered, ”that you would never allow me to make love to you, I should feel like following this cigar.” He threw it into the sea.
She sighed, and tapped her little French heel upon the deck.
”What a pity that you are like all other men.”
”I will say nothing so unkind of you,” he remarked. ”You are unlike any other woman whom I ever met.”
They listened together to the bells sounding from the quarter deck. It was eleven o'clock. The deck behind them was deserted, and a fine drizzling rain was beginning to fall. Mrs. Watson removed the rug from her knees regretfully.
”I must go,” she said; ”do you hear how late it is?”
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