Ragna. Anna Miller Costantini
makes you such an old fogy any way, damn you? I don't recognize you in the role of St. Anthony, nor myself either for the matter of that!" he chuckled reminiscently.
"Your Highness knows," answered Angelescu, "that I am no saint, and I don't mind a bit of a game myself, when there is any sport in it, but in this case it would be entirely too one-sided. Wait till you find someone who knows the rules of the game—there's no glory in turning the heads of boarding-school misses!" He puffed disgustedly at his cigarette which had gone out, then threw it away and thrust his hands into his pockets.
"You're right, old man; that's the worst of you, fidus Achates, you're always right in the main—but I think this time you are just a little bit off the track. Have I not already declared my intention of respecting virtuous innocence? What more would you have? And if I throw in a lesson or two, just a kindergarten lesson in the gentle art of flirtation, what harm is there?"
Angelescu shrugged his shoulders and moved away. He knew better than to prolong a useless discussion, and he knew equally well from experience what the Prince might consider as legitimately included in his "kindergarten of flirtation." Judging from his own impression of Ragna and of the capabilities of her temperament once aroused, he realized the danger to her peace of mind which would inevitably follow the merest spark of sense awakening. "There would be the devil to pay," he thought and as before reflected that fortunately the time was short.
CHAPTER IV
Ragna, tired out by the long day of new experience, soon fell asleep in her narrow berth. It seemed to her that after a long sleep of which she was dimly conscious she awoke to find herself in a strange country, a wide grass-covered plain running to the foot of low mountains, a rolling plain extending right and left as far as the eye could reach. The sky was heavy with thunder clouds, and against the dark heavens and the grassy knolls and bottoms ran a series of arches—white arches, some broken, some still whole and joined one to the other like an interminable bridge. She was no longer a girl but a hare, running bounding along, and after her ran a greyhound the fleetest of his kind, following her in long easy leaps. It seemed to her that though she was the hare, yet it was as if she stood at a distance and watched the chase, saw the anguished turning and doubling of the hare, saw the greyhound ever nearer and nearer, about to overtake his prey. At last the storm broke, and amid the wild lightnings and the crashing thunder, the end came—one last despairing bound, and Ragna, the hare, felt the pursuer's teeth close in her panting side. With a shriek she sat up in her berth. Above, the sailors were holy-stoning the deck, and the cabin was as she had seen it the night before, her clothes swaying to the motion from the hooks on the wall where she had hung them. Now and again a green wave washed over the closed port-hole.
She flung herself back on her pillow. Drops of perspiration beaded her forehead, and in spite of her wish to laugh at the relief of finding her dream only a dream after all, she was still dominated by the mysterious anguish with which the dream had filled her. Thinking it over, she shuddered and had need to feel the stuff curtain of her berth to assure herself that she was really awake. She looked at her watch; it was not yet six o'clock, but accustomed to the early rising at the Convent, she felt it impossible to fall asleep again, so she rose and performed her toilette, amused by the difficulty of dressing on a floor which swung up and down under her feet sending her staggering to and fro like a drunken man.
In the deserted saloon a steward brought her zwieback and coffee, and after she had eaten she went on deck carrying a handful of bread with which to feed the gulls. She was standing in the stern, looking out over the narrowing foamy wake, and throwing the bits of crust to the hungry birds, watching them wheel and plunge and seize the tempting morsel, while those who caught nothing vented their displeasure in angry squawks, when Captain Petersen joined her. He slyly stole up behind her and pinched her rosy cheek with a "Hey, now, what's our young lady doing about so early? Stealing bread, too! Dear, dear that will never do!"
Ragna turned laughing to meet the mock reproof.
"Well, what do you think of the old man now? Haven't I managed to give you pleasant company for the voyage, little one? A real prince, too, not many would have pulled that off for you! And you know how to keep him entertained!"
He shook his finger at her.
"Don't think that because I was cooped up on the bridge all day, I didn't see anything that was going on, Miss Sly-boots!"
He laughed uproariously, and Ragna glanced apprehensively back over the deck to assure herself that no one was within hearing.
"What did you see, Captain Petersen?" she asked. "I am sure there was nothing extraordinary, and it was you who asked me to entertain His Highness!"
"So I did," roared the Captain, "so I did, and the little Minx must needs set her cap at him as well—and capture him, horse, guns and foot! A little lass just out of a convent at that!"
Ragna was much embarrassed by this well-meaning banter, and in terror lest he should revive the subject in the Prince's presence—if that were to happen she would surely die of shame! "Captain Petersen," she said, "I have never set my cap at anyone, please don't say such things! The Prince is very kind to take any notice of a little girl like me, and he must find me very simple after the ladies he sees in society. Do be good, Captain Petersen, don't tease me again please, I don't like it! I think I will go down now and write some letters and my diary."
Captain Petersen shook with laughter.
"And so it is a child and not a young lady at all, in spite of its long skirts, and it doesn't like to be teased about Princes—and it thinks it will run away and write to be rid of me!"
Then as he saw tears of vexation rise in Ragna's eyes he realized that he had gone too far and like the gentleman he was, hastened to apologize.
"There, there, my dear, forgive an old sea-dog his joke! I meant nothing by it, but if you don't like it we won't say any more. I may be a bit rough and ready, my dear, and I'm not used to turning compliments and dancing on carpets, but I wouldn't hurt you for the world."
"I'm sure you wouldn't, Captain," said Ragna, laying her hand on his blue sleeve and smiling up into his kindly eyes. They stood there a few minutes longer watching the cloud of whirling white and grey gulls, and Ragna threw her last crumbs of bread; then they walked forward and the girl went to the saloon to write her letters, while the Captain returned to the bridge.
In the saloon she found Angelescu just finishing his breakfast. He rose, serviette in hand, as she entered.
"You are up early, Mademoiselle!"
"Oh," she answered, "I have been up for hours; I have been on deck feeding the gulls."
"And now you are going to have some breakfast? Let me call the steward."
"Thank you, Monsieur, I breakfasted before I went on deck. I have come down to write a little. Please don't let me interrupt your breakfast."
As she spoke, she moved over to a small table set across the end of the saloon, and laid upon it her writing case and travelling inkstand.
Angelescu resumed his seat and silence reigned except for the usual noises of the ship and the scratching of Ragna's pen.
The Count having finished his repast went on deck, where he was hailed by Captain Petersen and invited to the bridge, where the good Captain set forth at some length the principles of navigation, and enjoyed himself thoroughly, not often having had the fortune to meet with so considerate a listener; for the Count, though more bored than otherwise by the Captain's disquisition, sprinkled as it was by innumerable technical details, maintained throughout an air of courteous interest. So delighted was Captain Petersen that he actually sent for his private bottle of "schnapps" and insisted on his visitor's partaking thereof to close the interview.
Ragna had settled herself on deck with a rug and a book, and evidently expected Count Angelescu to join her as he descended from the bridge, but