C. N. Williamson & A. N. Williamson: 30+ Murder Mysteries & Adventure Novels (Illustrated). Charles Norris Williamson
Bella Cuba at all costs, and as soon as possible. Her nerves were not in a state to stand an indefinite strain, and she realized that she could not bear much more. Even with the chlorodyne and absinthe she hardly slept now, and she scarcely cared to project her thoughts beyond the time of escape from the hateful yacht.
Now, she had one thing for which to thank Virginia Beverly; the suggestion that she should call for help when the Bella Cuba had steamed into the harbour of Samoa. At once her excitable brain seized the picturesqueness of a dramatic situation. She saw herself, effectively dressed, rushing to the rail and hailing any passing ship which might be nearest. Sir Roger Broom, or her late friend George Trent, might try to stop her, but their violence would be seen from some other ship, and her cause against them would be strengthened.
Surely her appeals would not be ignored; men, of whatever class or country, were never blind to the distress of a woman as beautiful as she. Yes, she would be rescued. The story that she would tell must rouse indignation against Virginia Beverly and her companions. She herself had nothing to fear—nothing. And the man on whose advice she had spent years of exile would admire her more than ever, when he knew what she had endured, without breaking down. The end of her probation had come. The reason for delay had disappeared now, after all these years. They would marry, he and she, and he would help her to forget the past.
Manuela's reflections did not cause her to waste time. They were a mere accompaniment to her rapid action. Virginia had said they would soon be in the harbour. She must prepare herself to leave the yacht, and get ready to carry with her such things as were indispensable. Hurriedly she threw off the robe de chambre of silk and lace which she had been wearing, and put on a charming dress, suitable for travelling. The long outstanding account for this confection had been paid with Virginia Beverly's money; but that was a detail.
When she was ready to go up on deck—which she would do as soon as the yacht dropped anchor—she took her jewels from the large leather box where they were kept, and wrapping everything in a soft silk scarf, she stuffed the thick parcel into a handbag, which already held several mysterious-looking bottles with the labels carefully taken off. This bag was always locked, except when the Countess was at her toilet; then, for a brief time, the bottles came out, and a few tiny boxes and brushes; but she never forgot to put them back into the bag again, turn the key, and slip the latter on to the gold key-ring which she wore on her chatelaine.
The bag packed with jewels, as well as its legitimate contents, Manuela turned her attention to the larger luggage. This she could not carry away with her, if she were gallantly rescued from her sea-prison by a coup d'état; but it would be as well to have the things which she most valued ready to go later. She had filled her cabin-box, and was in the act of locking it, when the yacht's screw ceased to throb. The Bella Cuba had stopped. Orders were being shouted up above; and then came a grinding sound as the anchor was slowly dropped. The Countess de Mattos knew that they must be in the harbour of Samoa. She flung open the door of her cabin and stepped out into the saloon. There sat George Trent, who, as she appeared, looked up from a book which he was reading, or seemed to read.
"Good morning, Countess," he said coolly, rising and flinging away his book. "I'm glad you're better, but I don't think, now I see you in the light, that you look well enough to be out."
"I was never ill," she answered haughtily—for Virginia Beverly's brother could only be an enemy.
"It's mighty brave of you to try and keep up like this," said George, "but that was a bad attack of yours the other night. I can see you're not fit yet. You'd better go back and lie down while we coal. The blacks will be flying around, you know, and you'll get them in your lungs."
"Let me pass," exclaimed the Countess, making a rush to push by him and reach the companionway.
"I'd do a good deal for you, Countess, but I can't do that," retorted George. "It's against the doctor's orders."
"How dare you!" she panted. "Oh, you shall suffer for this!"
"All I'm worried about now is that you don't suffer. You really mustn't excite yourself. It's not good, you know. It's as much as my place is worth to let you upstairs. I expect it would be the best thing for your health to go and lie down, but if you won't do that, why, I'll try and entertain you here as well as I can."
The beautiful woman looked the tall young man full in the eyes, hers dilated and burning with the impotent fury in her soul. She was wise enough to see that he was not to be beguiled. If he, like other men, had his price, nothing that she could offer would pay it. He did not mean to let her go up on deck, and it would be as useless as undignified to attempt carrying out her will with a high hand. If there were any hope, it was in stratagem. Without breaking another lance against the impenetrable armour of his obstinacy, she turned her back upon him, swept into her cabin, and shut the door. Having done so—her little bag still grasped in her hand—she flew to the porthole and peered out. If a boat had been passing, or a ship at anchor visible near by, she would have screamed for help; but nothing promising was to be seen for the moment.
Meanwhile, Virginia had spent the most heavenly half-hour of her life. She had been so divinely happy that she had forgotten the danger ahead. To sit beside Max Dalahaide, to meet his eyes, tragic no longer, but bright with passionate gratitude; to know that he was out of danger, that he would live, and owe his life to her and hers; to hear the thanks, spoken stammeringly, but straight from his heart, filled her with an ecstasy such as she had never known. It was akin to pain, and yet it was worth dying for, just to have felt it once.
She was with him still when the yacht dropped anchor.
"This is Samoa?" he said, half rising on his elbow, and a quick flush springing to his thin cheeks.
"Yes," Virginia answered. "But there is no danger. My cousin says they will dare nothing. We shall have coaled in a couple of hours, and then——"
At this moment a sound of voices came through the open porthole, which was on the side of the yacht opposite to Manuela's.
Some one in a boat was calling to some one on the deck of the Bella Cuba; and evidently the boat was near.
Virginia's sentence broke off. She forgot what she had been saying, and sprang to her feet, her heart in her throat. It was the Marchese Loria's voice that she had heard.
What could his presence here signify? Did it mean unexpected disaster? Involuntarily her frightened glance went to Maxime's face. Their eyes met. She saw in his that he, too, had recognized those once familiar tones.
"I will go on deck," she said brokenly, trying to control her voice. "I—when I can I will come back again. And—of course, Dr. Grayle, you will stay here."
"You may trust me," said the little brown man, with meaning in his words.
Chapter XIII.
The Game of Bluff
Roger Broom had seen the boat coming from afar. Already the lighters were alongside, and the process of coaling was about to begin. This would be got through as soon as possible, and necessary provisions bought from the boats plying from the town with fresh milk, butter, eggs, meat, fowls, and green vegetables. But Roger knew well that, expedite their business as they might, the Bella Cuba would not steam out of the harbour without a challenge from the law. The only shock of surprise he experienced at sight of the official-looking little craft, making straight for the yacht, was in recognizing the Marchese Loria, the last man he had expected to see.
As he stood on deck beside the quartermaster near the rail, Loria hailed him by name, while the boat came alongside, and the four rowers shipped their dripping oars.
"Ah, Sir Roger, you are surprised to see me!" the Marchese cried. "But, by our old friendship, I hope you will let me come on board. These gentlemen in the boat with me are the United States Consul, Mr. Chandler; the French Consul, Monsieur de Letz; and Herr Dr. Sauber, the medical officer for the health