Mysterious Mr. Sabin Part 30

"You will tell me all about America," he said, rising and drawing back her chair, "to-morrow?"

"If we can find nothing more interesting to talk about," she said, looking up at him with a sparkle in her dark eyes. "Good-night."

Her hand, very small and white, and very soft, lingered in his. At that moment an unpleasant voice sounded in their ears.

"Do you know the time, Violet? The lights are out all over the s.h.i.+p. I don't understand what you are doing on deck."

Mr. Watson was not pleasant to look upon. His eyes were puffy, and swollen, and he was not quite steady upon his feet. His wife looked at him in cold displeasure.

"The lights are out in the smoke-room, I suppose," she said, "or we should not have the pleasure of seeing you. Good-night, Mr. Sabin! Thank you so much for looking after me!"

Mr. Sabin bowed and walked slowly away, lighting a fresh cigarette. If it was acting, it was very admirably done.

CHAPTER XLIII.

THE COMING OF THE "KAISER WILHELM"

The habit of early rising was one which Mr. Sabin had never cultivated, and breakfast was a meal which he abhorred. It was not until nearly midday on the following morning that he appeared on deck, and he had scarcely exchanged his customary greeting with the captain, before he was joined by Mr. Watson, who had obviously been on the look-out for him.

"I want, sir," the latter commenced, "to apologise to you for my conduct last night."

Mr. Sabin looked at him keenly.

"There is no necessity for anything of the sort," he said. "If any apology is owing at all, it is, I think, to your wife."

Mr. Watson shook his head vigorously.

"No, sir," he declared, "I am ashamed to say that I am not very clear as to the actual expressions I made, but Mrs. Watson has a.s.sured me that my behaviour to you was discourteous in the extreme."

"I hope you will think no more of it. I had already," Mr. Sabin said, "forgotten the circ.u.mstance. It is not of the slightest consequence."

"You are very good," Mr. Watson said softly.

"I had the pleasure," Mr. Sabin remarked, "of an interesting conversation with your wife last night. You are a very fortunate man."

"I think so indeed, sir," Mr. Watson replied modestly.

"American women," Mr. Sabin continued, looking meditatively out to sea, "are very fascinating."

"I have always found them so," Mr. Watson agreed.

"Mrs. Watson," Mr. Sabin said, "told me so much that was interesting about your wonderful country that I am looking forward to my visit more than ever."

Mr. Watson darted a keen glance at his companion. He was suddenly on his guard. For the first time he realised something of the resources of this man with whom he had to deal.

"My wife," he said, "knows really very little of her native country; she has lived nearly all her life abroad."

"So I perceived," Mr. Sabin answered. "Shall we sit down a moment, Mr. Watson? One wearies so of this incessant promenading, and there is a little matter which I fancy that you and I might discuss with advantage."

Mr. Watson obeyed in silence. This was a wonderful man with whom he had to deal. Already he felt that all the elaborate precautions of his coming had been wasted. He might be Mr. James B. Watson, the New York yacht owner and millionaire, to the captain and his seven pa.s.sengers, but he was nothing of the sort to Mr. Sabin. He shrugged his shoulders, and followed him to a seat. After all silence was a safe card.

"I'm going," Mr. Sabin said, "to be very frank with you. I know, of course, who you are."

Mr. Watson shrugged his shoulders.

"Do you?" he remarked dryly.

Mr. Sabin bowed, with a faint smile at the corner of his lips.

"Certainly," he answered, "you are Mr. James B. Watson of New York, and the lady with you is your wife. Now I want to tell you a little about myself."

"Most interested, I'm sure," Mr. Watson murmured.

"My real name," Mr. Sabin said, turning a little as though to face his companion, "is Victor Duc de Souspennier. It suits me at present to travel under the name by which I was known in England and by which you are in the habit of addressing me. Mr. Watson, I'm leaving England because a certain scheme of mine, which, if successful, would have revolutionised the whole face of Europe, has by a most unfortunate chance become a failure. I have incurred thereby the resentment, perhaps I should say the just resentment, of a great nation. I am on my way to the country where I concluded I should be safest against those means of, shall I say, retribution, or vengeance, which will a.s.suredly be used against me. Now what I want to say to you, Mr. Watson, is this--I am a rich man, and I value my life at a great deal of money. I wonder if by any chance you understand me."

Mr. Watson smiled.

"I'm curious to know," he said softly, "at what price you value yourself."

"My account in New York," Mr. Sabin said quietly, "is, I believe, something like ten thousand pounds."

"Fifty thousand dollars," Mr. Watson remarked, "is a nice little sum for one, but an awkward amount to divide."

Mr. Sabin lit a cigarette and breathed more freely. He began to see his way.

"I forgot the lady," he murmured. "The expense of cabling is not great. For the sake of argument, let us say twenty thousand."

Mr. Watson rose.

"So far as I'm concerned," he said, "it is a satisfactory sum. Forgive me if I leave you for a few minutes, I must have a little talk with Mrs. Watson."

Mr. Sabin nodded.

"We will have a cigar together after lunch," he said. "I must have my morning game of shuffleboard with the captain."

Mr. Watson went below, and Mr. Sabin played shuffleboard with his usual deadly skill.

A slight mist had settled around them by the time the game was over, and the fog-horn was blowing, the captain went on the bridge, and the engines were checked to half speed.

Mr. Sabin leaned over the side of the vessel, and gazed thoughtfully into the dense white vapour.

"I think," he said softly to himself, "that after all I'm safe."

There was perfect silence on the s.h.i.+p. Even the luncheon gong had not sounded, the pa.s.sengers having been summoned in a whisper by the deck steward. The fog seemed to be getting denser and the sea was like gla.s.s. Suddenly there was a little commotion aft, and the captain leaning forward shouted some brief orders. The fog-horn emitted a series of spasmodic and hideous shrills, and beyond a slight drifting the steamer was almost motionless.

Mr. Sabin understood at once that somewhere, it might be close at hand, or it might be a mile away, the presence of another steamer had been detected.

The same almost ghostlike stillness continued, orders were pa.s.sed backward and forward in whispers. The men walked backward and forward on tip-toe. And then suddenly, without any warning, they pa.s.sed out into the clear air, the mist rolled away, the sun shone down upon them again, and the decks dried as though by magic. Cheerful voices broke in upon the chill and unnatural silence. The machinery recommenced to throb, and the pa.s.sengers who had finished lunch went upon deck. Every one was attracted at once by the sight of a large white steamer about a mile on the starboard side.

Mr. Watson joined the captain, who was examining her through his gla.s.s.

"Man-of-war, isn't she?" he inquired.

The captain nodded.

"Not much doubt about that," he answered; "look at her guns. The odd part of it is, too, she is flying no flag. We shall know who she is in a minute or two, though."

Mr. Sabin descended the steps on his way to a late luncheon. As he turned the corner he came face to face with Mr. Watson, whose eyes were fixed upon the coming steamer with a very curious expression.

"Man-of-war," Mr. Sabin remarked. "You look as though you had seen her before."

Mr. Watson laughed harshly.

"I should like to see her," he remarked, "at the bottom of the sea."

Mr. Sabin looked at him in surprise.

"You know her, then?" he remarked.

"I know her," Mr. Watson answered, "too well. She is the Kaiser Wilhelm, and she is going to rob me of twenty thousand pounds."

CHAPTER XLIV.

THE GERMANS ARE ANNOYED.

Mr. Sabin ate his luncheon with unimpaired appet.i.te and with his usual care that everything of which he partook should be so far as possible of the best. The close presence of the German man-of-war did not greatly alarm him. He had some knowledge of the laws and courtesies of maritime life, and he could not conceive by what means short of actual force he could be inveigled on board of her. Mr. Watson's last words had been a little disquieting, but he probably held an exaggerated opinion as to the powers possessed by his employers. Mr. Sabin had been in many tighter places than this, and he had sufficient belief in the country of his recent adoption to congratulate himself that it was an English boat on which he was a pa.s.senger. He proceeded to make himself agreeable to Mrs. Watson, who, in a charming costume of blue and white, and a fascinating little hat, had just come on to luncheon.

"I have been talking," he remarked, after a brief pause in their conversation, "to your husband this morning."

She looked up at him with a meaning smile upon her face.

"So he has been telling me."

"I hope," Mr. Sabin continued gently, "that your advice to him--I take it for granted that he comes to you for advice--was in my favour."

"It was very much in your favour," she answered, leaning across towards him. "I think that you knew it would be."

"I hoped at least----"

Mr. Sabin broke off suddenly in the midst of his sentence, and turning round looked out of the open port-hole. Mrs. Watson had dropped her knife and fork and was holding her hands to her ears. The saloon itself seemed to be shaken by the booming of a gun fired at close quarters.

"What is it?" she exclaimed, looking across at him with frightened eyes. "What can have happened! England is not at war with anybody, is she?"

Mr. Sabin looked up with a quiet smile from the salad which he was mixing.

"It is simply a signal from another s.h.i.+p," he answered. "She wants us to stop."

"What s.h.i.+p? Do you know anything about it? Do you know what they want?"

"Not exactly," Mr. Sabin said. "At the same time I have some idea. The s.h.i.+p who fired that signal is a German man-of-war, and you see we are stopping."

Of the two Mrs. Watson was certainly the most nervous. Her fingers shook so that the wine in her gla.s.s was spilt. She set her gla.s.s down and looked across at her companion.

"They will take you away," she murmured.

"I think not," Mr. Sabin answered. "I am inclined to think that I am perfectly safe. Will you try some of my salad?"

A look of admiration flashed for a moment across her face, "You are a wonderful man," she said softly. "No salad, thanks! I am too nervous to eat. Let us go on deck!"

Mr. Sabin rose, and carefully selected a cigarette.

"I can a.s.sure you," he said, "that they are powerless to do anything except attempt to frighten Captain Ackinson. Of course they might succeed in that, but I don't think it is likely. Let us go and hear what he has to say."

Captain Ackinson was standing alone on the deck, watching the man-of-war's boat which was being rapidly pulled towards the Calipha. He was obviously in a bad temper. There was a black frown upon his forehead which did not altogether disappear when he turned his head and saw them approaching.

"Are we arrested, Captain?" Mr. Sabin asked. "Why couldn't they signal what they wanted?"

"Because they're blistering idiots," Captain Ackinson answered. "They blither me to stop, and I signalled back to ask their reason, and I'm dashed if they didn't put a shot across my bows. As if I hadn't lost enough time already without fooling."

"Thanks to us, I am afraid, Captain," Mrs. Watson put in.

"Well, I'm not regretting that, Mrs. Watson," the captain answered gallantly. "We got something for stopping there, but we shall get nothing decent from these confounded Germans, I am very sure. By the bye, can you speak their lingo, Mr. Sabin?"

"Yes," Mr. Sabin answered, "I can speak German. Can I be of any a.s.sistance to you?"

"You might stay with me if you will," Captain Ackinson answered, "in case they don't speak English."

Mr. Sabin remained by the captain's side, standing with his hands behind him. Mrs. Watson leaned over the rail close at hand, watching the approaching boat, and exchanging remarks with the doctor. In a few minutes the boat was alongside, and an officer in the uniform of the German Navy rose and made a stiff salute.

"Are you the captain?" he inquired, in stiff but correct English.

The captain returned his salute.