"'I am obliged to you. I am never ill on board ship. Never.'

"I think my manner rather startled him. He took off his hat and moved away. You know how I object to people who think they have a right to interfere because they happen to be old--and, generally, silly. It is such stuff. The consciousness that I had crushed him made me feel distinctly better. I sat up and looked at the sea. But as I watched the gleaming waters the old thoughts came back, and, before I knew it, again my eyes filled with tears. It was foolish, but I could not help it. I do not often cry, but I did cry then.

"I daresay I had been making rather a goose of myself--I had been crying a good long time, when again someone touched me on the shoulder. It was once more that absurd old man.

"'If you will take my advice, my dear, you will go downstairs. I am an old man, and take the liberty of addressing you.'

"Fancy calling me 'my dear,' as though I were a child! I stood up and faced him.

"'My good sir, _will_ you leave me alone?'

"He looked at me as though he were trying to find an excuse to begin a conversation. I daresay he would have liked me to make a confidant of him.

"'I am afraid you are in trouble. I don't like to see a young lady crying alone on deck all night, especially such a young lady as you.'

"I looked at him--you know how I can look if I like--and I walked away. I walked up and down the deck, and each time I pa.s.sed him I looked him full in the face--such a look! He crossed to the other side. The scent of battle was in my nostrils. I crossed too. Then he went downstairs instead of me.

"Dear mamma, I stayed on deck all night. I saw the night gradually brighten. I saw the sun rise. I saw the birth of day. And, dear mamma, you have no idea how cold it was. You remember how cold it was when we saw the sun rise on the Righi? I declare I felt it quite as cold that morning on the boat. It was bitter. I was chilled to the bone. I went downstairs and routed out the steward, and made him get me a cup of coffee. I never enjoyed anything so much. And the state I was in when I looked at the gla.s.s! I went to the ladies' cabin and put myself to rights. And there I stayed. It was not nice. But I felt that it would be still less nice to have to return to the deck and meet a crowd of men and encounter Mr. Pearson. I had quite made up my mind what I would do. I resolved that when I reached Antwerp I would first of all wire to you, then go straight to Brussels, and return by the shorter route to England. I would do it if I only had enough money to take me the whole of the way third cla.s.s. If Conrad wanted me he would find me where he found me first of all--at home. _My_ home, not his.

"I was aware, from the motion of the ship, that we had entered the Scheldt. For some time we proceeded up the river. Then, all at once, we stopped. I supposed the stoppage to be for the purpose of taking up a pilot. After a delay the boat went on again. I was thinking about all sorts of things, and was telling myself that, perhaps, after all, I had not been so good a girl as I might have been, and that sometimes I had been to blame in those little flirtations which had chequered my career--and I wonder who would not have been sentimental in such a plight as mine--when someone came to the cabin door and said:

"'Is there anyone here of the name of G.o.dwin?'

"I sprang up, my heart in my mouth.

"'I am Mrs. G.o.dwin!'

"'Would you mind coming up on deck?'

"Without a moment's hesitation I followed the man upstairs. I imagined that, in some mysterious way, a message had reached me from Conrad, or that perhaps he had come himself--though, unless he possessed the seven-leagued boots, how he was to spring from the Rotterdam boat to the Scheldt I never paused to reflect.

"I was in quite a tremor when I got on deck. I noticed that all the pa.s.sengers were gathered together in a crowd, and that in their midst were three or four foreigners in some kind of uniform.

"One, in particular, was resplendent. On him my eyes fell. And as they did so--dear mamma, I did not disgrace you by positively fainting, but a cold chill went down my back and penetrated to the marrow of my bones. It was the Baron! Hector d'Ardigny! At his side stood Mr.

Pearson. Even at that trying moment I was struck by the ludicrous contrast the one presented to the other--the Baron four feet six, Mr.

Pearson six feet four. Geraldine will remember how it used to tickle me in days gone by. It tickled me then.

"As I was becoming conscious that I was the centre of attraction Mr.

Pearson motioned towards me with his hand.

"'This is Mrs. G.o.dwin.'

"I do not think that the Baron had hitherto noticed me. He noticed me then! It strikes me that up to that moment he had been engaged in glancing at Mr. Pearson. To say that at sight of me the colour of his countenance was that of a boiled beetroot is to use a trite and coa.r.s.e comparison. But I do not know to what else I could compare it, unless it be to a lobster newly boiled.

"'Jennie!' he gasped. 'Miss Nash!'

"'This,' repeated Mr. Pearson, 'is Mrs. G.o.dwin.'

"The Baron glared at Mr. Pearson. Then he glared at me. Then he _sprang_ at Mr. Pearson.

"'Villain!' he cried. 'This is a trick you play on me!'

"Before the eyes of all the pa.s.sengers he slapped the captain's face.

Of course, it would have been quite easy for Mr. Pearson to have picked him up and dropped him into the water. I fancy public expectation took it for granted that the Baron would be summarily disposed of in some such fashion. If so, public expectation was wrong.

Mr. Pearson did nothing of the kind. He stood quite still. He looked at the Baron. He took out his handkerchief and wiped his cheek. Then he looked at his handkerchief. Then he turned to me.

"'Be so good as to come this way.'

"Docile as a child I went that way. Mr. Pearson came after me, leading, unless I am mistaken, the Baron by his epaulette. We all three entered the captain's cabin--that apartment in which I had already spent such an agreeable twenty minutes. Mr. Pearson addressed the Baron in language which was eminently adapted to tickle the ears of a lady.

"'I've half a mind, you little brute, to choke the life right out of you. But I'll give you another chance for your skin. The fun's too good to lose. You said you wanted someone of the name of G.o.dwin, and here is someone.'

"The Baron took off his _kepi_. He wiped his brow. The dear little man was damp with perspiration.

"'It is someone of the name of Conrad G.o.dwin that I want.'

"'I am Mrs. Conrad G.o.dwin,' I observed.

"I supposed that, in some mysterious way, he had become possessed of a message either for Conrad or for me. I was not prepared for his behaviour. He dropped into a seat with an exclamation which sounded very like an execration.

"'You see, my dear Baron,' said Mr. Pearson, 'our dear Jennie has married--and she hasn't married you. She hasn't showed herself possessed of many virtues, but she has had sense enough for that. I took it for granted that you were something in the hairdressing line, from the moment I first set eyes on you.'

"The Baron paid no attention to Mr. Pearson--it was as well he didn't.

"He sat, huddled up on a chair, looking at me with gaping eyes.

"'But it is impossible that you are Mrs. Conrad G.o.dwin!'

"'I fail to see the impossibility, for, in fact, I am. If you have a message for me, may I ask you to deliver it?'

"'Message! I have no message! I have instructions to arrest you.'

"I was startled then.

"'To arrest me!'

"'A telegram has come to detain anyone arriving by this boat of the name of Conrad G.o.dwin. I am the chief of the police'--the Baron d'Ardigny, with his large property in the Ardennes, had sunk to a policeman--'and I am afraid that, with your husband, Mr. Conrad G.o.dwin, you must be my prisoner.'

"'My husband, as I cannot help suspecting that you are possibly aware, does not happen to be on board.'

"'Your husband is not on board? You are travelling alone?'

"'Owing'--dear mamma, I did almost break down then,--'owing to an unfortunate accident, my husband lost the boat. But, Baron, you must be under some delusion. Surely you are not having a jest at my expense?'

"'It is no jest! It is the truth! I am an officer.' He slapped his chest: you know the way he had when he said anything particularly absurd. 'My duty is my duty! Before that all other things must fade.

If, as you say, you are Mrs. Conrad G.o.dwin; if your husband is on board, or no matter where he is, I must proceed to your arrest.'

"'Mr. Pearson, you will not suffer this?'