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The captain's pause before addressing him by his real name was intended to be ironical. Not so the girl's hesitancy. Interpreting d.i.c.k's mood with her woman's intuition, she felt that he wished to drop any subterfuge now, no matter what his motive might have been in adopting one hitherto.
Her voice broke the spell which the telegram, with its curious phrasing, had cast on him.
"No, Miss Fenshawe, not bad news, certainly. Indeed, it was the absence of any sort of news that troubled me for a moment. _Cha.s.seur_!"
"_Oui, m'sieu_'," and the messenger raised his hat.
"_Voila_!" d.i.c.k threw him a franc. "_Il n'a pas de reponse_."
"_Merci bien, m'sieu'_."
That spinning of a coin through the air showed that Royson had made up his mind. He had tossed with Fortune, and cared not who won.
The messenger drew away from the gangway, and entered into a conversation with the driver of the omnibus. Stump nodded to a man on the quay. The forward mooring rope was cleared, and fell into the water with a loud splash. Two sailors ran the gangway on board. An electric bell jarred in the engine-room, and the screw revolved, while the rattle of the steering chains showed that the helm was put hard a-port.
When the _Aphrodite_ moved slowly astern, her bow swung towards the mouth of the dock. The indicator rang again, twice, and the yacht, after a pause, began to forge ahead. Another splash, and the second hawser was cast loose. The mole, the neighboring s.h.i.+ps, the landward quays and the warehouses thereon, seemed to diminish in size without any perceptible cause, and, in a s.p.a.ce of time that might have been measured by seconds rather than minutes, the _Aphrodite_ was throbbing southward.
Mrs. Haxton, whose eagerness to inspect her stateroom had gone, was hailed pleasantly by Irene.
"Now, because I asked you to wait, you shall have first choice," she said, "Lead on, Mr. Royson. Let us see our dens."
But Baron von Kerber came running along the deck, all smiles and welcoming words, and it was evident that some reason other than physical unfitness had kept him out of sight until the yacht's voyage was actually commenced. d.i.c.k heard him explaining coolly that he had met with a slight accident on arriving at Ma.r.s.eilles overnight. Some difficulty in dressing, he said, combined with the phenomenal punctuality of the _train de luxe_, accounted for his tardy appearance, but the ladies would find that the steward had everything in readiness, and Mr. Fenshawe was too experienced a _voyageur_ not to make himself at home instantly. Rattling on thus agreeably, he led the way aft.
In the midst of his explanations, he saw that d.i.c.k was accompanying the party, and told him, rather abruptly, that his services were not required. In no amiable mood, therefore, the second officer went to the upper deck, where the skipper was growling his views to Tagg about the mysterious incident of the telegram. It was a moment of tension, and something might have been said that would tend to place Royson and the captain at arm's length if the _Aphrodite_ had not taken it into her head to emulate Miss Fenshawe's action by coming to d.i.c.k's a.s.sistance.
The little vessel remembered that which Stump paid small heed to, and a.s.serted herself.
Notwithstanding her half-deck saloon, with the tiny chart-house perched thereon, and the narrow bridge that gave her a steamer-like aspect, she was rigged as a topsail schooner, her sharp lines and consequent extra length affording full play to her fore-and-aft sails. Her first owner had designed her with set purpose. It was his hobby to remain in out- of-the-way parts of the world for years at a time, visiting savage lands where coal was not procurable, and he trusted more to sails than to engine-power. But Stump, and his chief officer, and nearly every sailor on board, being accustomed to steam, despised windjammers, and pinned their faith to the engines.
With a favorable wind such as was blowing at the moment, or to steady the yacht in a cross sea, the captain would have set a foresail and jib. To help the propeller was good seamans.h.i.+p, but to bank the engine- room fires and depend wholly on sails was the last thing he would think of. Hence, the _Aphrodite_ straightway taught him a sharp lesson. While Stump was ruminating on the exact, form of some scathing remark for Royson's benefit, a sudden stoppage of the screw, and an ominously easy roll over the crest of the next sea, showed that the engines were idle.
Stump hurled a lurid question down the speaking-tube. The engineer's equally emphatic reply told him that there was a breakdown, cause not stated. Now, the outer roadstead of Ma.r.s.eilles harbor is one of the most awkward places in the Mediterranean for a disabled vessel. Though the Gulf of Lions is almost tideless, it has strong and treacherous currents. The configuration of the rocky coast, guarded as it is by small islands and sunken reefs, does not allow much seaway until a lighthouse, some miles distant from the mainland, is pa.s.sed. Stump, of course, would have made use of the s.h.i.+p's sails before she drifted into peril. But he was purple with wrath, and the necessary commands were not familiar to his tongue.
Therefore, he hesitated, though he was far from remaining silent, and Royson, never at a loss when rapidity of thought and action was demanded, took the lead. He woke up the crew with a string of orders, rushed from foremast to mainmast and back to the bows again to see that the men hauled the right ropes and set the sails in the right way, and, had the _Aphrodite_ bowling along under canvas in less than two minutes after the stopping of the screw. Not until every sheet was drawing and the yacht running free did it occur to him that he had dared to a.s.sume unto himself the captain's prerogative.
Rather red-faced and breathless, not only from his own exertions but by reason of the disconcerting notion which possessed him, he raced up the short companion-ladder leading from the fore deck to the bridge. Stump seemed to be awaiting him with a halter.
"I hope I did right, sir, in jumping in like that," gasped d.i.c.k. "I thought it best to get steering way on the yacht without delay, and--"
"Wot's yer name now?" roared Stump, glowering at him in a manner which led d.i.c.k to believe he had committed an unpardonable offense.
"Still the same, sir--Royson."
"I thought p'raps it might ha' bin Smith, as you're such a lightnin'
change artist. Just bung in to the engine-room, will you, an' find out wot that son of a gun below there is a-doing of?"
"I will go if you like, sir, but I know nothing about engines."
"Take charge here, then. Keep her steady as she goes. You've a clear course half a mile to westward of that light."
Stump disappeared, and Royson found himself entrusted with full charge of the vessel ere she had been ten minutes at sea. His gruff commander could have paid him no greater compliment.
In the engineer, a man from West Hartlepool, the captain met one who spoke the vernacular.
"It's no good a-dammin' me because there's a flaw in a connectin' rod,"
he protested, when Stamp's strenuous questioning allowed him to explain matters. "I can't see inside a piece of crimson steel any more'n you can."
"None of your lip, my lad, or I'll find flaws all over you, P. D. Q.
Can you fix this mess at sea, or must we put back?"
The engineer quailed under Stump's bovine eye.
"It would be better to put back, sir. I may be able to manage, but it's doubtful."
Stump went aft to consult von Kerber. So speedily had the yacht's mishap been dealt with that no member of the saloon party was aware of it, though any sailor among them, would have recognized instantly that the vessel was traveling under canvas. The Baron, when he heard what had taken place, was most emphatic in vetoing the suggestion that the _Aphrodite_ should return to Ma.r.s.eilles, and Stamp was equally determined hot to sail through, the Straits of Bonifacio in half a gale of wind. As a compromise, a course was shaped for Toulon, and that port was made during the afternoon. It was the wisest thing to do, under the circ.u.mstances. Toulon is the French naval base for the Mediterranean, and her marine _chantiers_ not only repaired the engines in a few hours, but supplied a set of spare parts, a wise precaution in view of the yacht's probable sojourn in a locality where castings would be unattainable.
Thenceforth the voyage proceeded smoothly. Royson took the first opportunity of explaining to von Kerber how and why the mistake as to his name had arisen, and the Baron only smiled, in his superior way, having recovered his somewhat domineering manner from the hour that the French coast-line sank beneath the horizon.
Stump soon ascertained that the _Aphrodite_ made better weather and faster running as a schooner than as a steams.h.i.+p when the wind suited, and Royson's position on board was rendered all the more secure thereby. For the rest, d.i.c.k lived the humdrum life of the s.h.i.+p.
Naturally, he saw a good deal of the occupants of the saloon, but the acquaintance did not progress beyond formalities. The two ladies read, and walked, and played bridge with Mr. Fenshawe and the Baron. They took much interest in Stromboli and the picturesque pa.s.sage through the Straits of Messina, and the red glare of Etna kept them on deck for hours. Then the yacht settled down for the run to Port Said, and arrived at that sunlit abode of rascality on the first of November.
Here the stores and coal bunkers were replenished, but no member of the crew was allowed to land. Cablegrams, letters, and newspapers came in bundles for the cabin-folk. The only communication of any sort for officers or men was a letter addressed to Royson by name. Von Kerber const.i.tuted himself postman, and he brought the missive to d.i.c.k in person, but not until the _Aphrodite_ had entered the ca.n.a.l after s.h.i.+pping her French pilot and search-light.
He was annoyed, though he veiled his ill-humor under an affected carelessness.
"How came you to give Port Said as a port of call to one of your correspondents?" he asked.
"I did not," said d.i.c.k, whose surprise was genuine enough to disarm suspicion.
"Then some one has made a very accurate guess, yes?" sneered the other.
"I expected no letter from any person under the sun, and I certainly told no one I was pa.s.sing through Port Said, for the sufficient reason that I never even thought of the place until you informed me yourself, sir, that we were bound for the Red Sea."
"It is strange. Well, here is your letter. Perhaps, when you have read it, you may understand how the thing happened. I wished our destination to remain hidden, from the general public, and you are the only man on board, except Mr. Fenshawe and myself, whose whereabouts are known in London."
Now it chanced that the postmark was illegible, and, furthermore, that von Kerber had already read the letter by adopting the ingenious plan of the Russian censor, who grips the interior sheet in an instrument resembling a long, narrow curling-tongs, and twists steadily until he is able to withdraw it uninjured. But Stiff legal note-paper is apt to bear signs of such treatment. Somewhat later in the day, Royson saw these things, and was perplexed. At the moment, he merely broke open the envelope.
It was a brief communication from Mr. Forbes. "I telegraphed to you at Ma.r.s.eilles," it said, "and have ascertained that my message was delivered to you. I regret your apparent decision not to fall in with my request. Sir Henry Royson is ill, almost dangerously so, and I have reason to believe that he wishes to make amends to you for his past att.i.tude. I received your letter, wherein you stated that you were s.h.i.+pping on some vessel under the name of King, but I had little difficulty in tracing you to Mr. Fenshawe's yacht, and I do not feel justified in recognizing your unnecessary alias. Again, I advise you to return. I am sure that your employer, a most estimable man, will not place any difficulties in your way. If you leave the _Aphrodite_ at Port Said or Ismalia, and send me a cablegram, I will remit by cable funds sufficient for your needs."
d.i.c.k had deemed this disturbing problem dead and done with. He had not hesitated at Ma.r.s.eilles, nor was he less decided now. He held out the letter to von Kerber frankly, little thinking how close a scrutiny had been given to his face while he was learning its contents.
"Read it," he said, "and you will see for yourself that I am in no way responsible."
Von Kerber seemed to be taken aback by this display of confidence.
"No, no," he said loftily. "I do not wish it. I have your word. That is sufficient."
"May I send an answer?"
"Yes, from Suez."