"And that means what, your Excellency?"

"I don't believe you even intend to risk the chances in Spain. You have duped my cousin, a helpless, innocent girl--ignorant of the sharp ways of American adventurers. You have secured a free pa.s.sage on this ship, and doubtless an advance payment, to engage you. I would wager anything that you will never see Spain, in this case."

Jarvis smiled ingratiatingly.

"You are a clever student of character. Such men make good gamblers.

How much are you willing to wager on this little affair? How much will you bet that I do not appear in Spain?"

The Duke of Alva bit his lip. He had lost too much in recent gamings to afford greater risks just now. But he was a sportsman--particularly did he wish to impress his kinswoman.

"I will wager a thousand pounds of English money,--five thousand dollars in your American rags,--that you will not appear at Seguro in time to help the Princess."

"That's a great deal of money, especially for a hard-working business man like myself," answered Warren. "What are the exact stipulations of this wager? I might borrow the money from the Princess, as an advance payment for breaking the ghost?"

Carlos sneered exultantly.

"Yes, you might borrow it but there is not so much ready money around Seguro. My terms, if you care to know them, are these: I wager the thousand pounds that you will not be at Seguro three nights from to-morrow--the time when we will arrive, according to the train schedule. However, why should I waste talk, with a man, on a bet which is not for tradesmen but for gentlemen?"

"Who would hold the stakes?"

The Duke smiled, and waved a gallant hand toward his cousin.

"Who better than my kinswoman, the Princess of Aragon?"

"Who better?" echoed Jarvis.

He was fumbling with his waistcoat, his back to the Princess and her cousin. Suddenly with a jerk, he brought forth a leather money belt which had been tightly bound about his body, diagonally over one and under another shoulder. The Duke's eyes protruded. Jarvis dropped the treasure "chest" upon the table, while even the Princess evidenced her surprise. Opening the little pockets, which joined each other along its entire length, he began to pile up gold pieces.

"I believe I have the amount handy, your Excellency!" he remarked amiably. "May I trouble you to invite you to produce the money for your own side of the bet? We have a vulgar custom among us in America, of requesting the other man to either 'put up or shut up.'"

It happened that this cash had been carefully drawn from his resources before the eventful last evening at the club. Jarvis had prepared himself for all exigencies: he had not imagined that the first use would be a reversal to the ancient custom of his ancestors in the Blue Gra.s.s State,--a bet upon a race. But blood will tell, and here he was in the time-honored custom of the family!

The Duke had not seen so much cash since his last ill-fated pilgrimage to Monte Carlo. He was staggered. But the musical laugh of the Princess brought back the haughty _savoir faire_ for which he was noted!

"Ah ... well ... I understand you, sir," he stammered, with improving volubility. "Very good. As the Duke of Alva, it is not necessary for me to produce the exact cash on the spot. The word of a Spanish n.o.bleman is as good as his bond. It is a wager, and the terms stand."

His black eyes studied the pile of gold coins with sparkling interest.

"Very good,--twice in the same place. The word of a Kentuckian is as good as his bond. I agreed to let the Princess be the stakeholder--she may hold your word, and my money-belt. Your Serene Highness--will you do me the honor?"

And he turned toward the blushing girl, as he handed over the treasure.

The insult was not lost on the Duke. But, as Jarvis reached for his hat, he could not resist a final slap!

"Good-night, your Highness. I advise you to be very careful with the lock on the door. The ship lands to-morrow evening, and some villain may break into your stateroom, rob you of the Duke's word of honor and sell it to some enterprising Liverpool p.a.w.nbroker. Pleasant dreams! I hope to welcome you to Seguro, your Excellency. Don't spend the five thousand until you get there--remember, the home industries need encouragement."

And he walked out to the promenade deck. The Duke looked at his cousin, flushed a swarthy red at the cynical laugh on her pretty face. Then he, too, hurried out--through the saloon pa.s.sage. He was anxious to get to his own stateroom to think things over.

XI

WHEN THE SHIP COMES IN

Back in his stateroom Warren was poring with renewed interest over the time-tables between Liverpool, London, Paris, and Madrid. Seguro was on the main line from the French capital to the princ.i.p.al one of Spain.

As he made various penciled memoranda upon a page of his leather notebook, the telephone bell tinkled.

He answered and heard the voice of the Princess.

"Can you see me at once,--on the promenade deck, by my door?"

"Yes. Good-by."

In a few moments he was talking to her in the dark; all the lights of her suite were out. The girl was very nervous.

"I have a paper which Nita found upon the floor--it was crumpled and must have fallen from the pocket of my cousin when he fell. I want to give you back that belt, Mr. Jarvis: for I have heard before of some of the wager-debts of Carlos. It is safer with you. Let me know what you think about this paper, and tell me to-morrow morning. We are due in port late in the evening, you know."

"I will. There may be something in which I wish your help, as well, your Highness. I have made up my mind to reach Seguro before the Duke--for many reasons."

The girl caught his hand impetuously.

"You don't fear for your life before you get there, do you?" she asked softly. "I want you to help me in my castle. That is our bargain--but I know you better than I did when we met in New York. I don't want you to run too big a risk for me until the great trial comes. Do be careful, now."

A thrill sent the Kentuckian's head reeling for an instant at the unexpected touch of those warm, electric fingers. Then he caught himself.

"Your va.s.sal is still ambitious for promotion. But he will not fight the windmills of Spain on an old mule like Don Quixote. He prefers modern methods--such as dynamite, and other pleasant little novelties."

He pressed her hand with a returning warmth, slipped the belt about him, and started down the promenade deck again. Something prompted him to step into the black shadow of a companionway as a figure crossed beneath an electric overhead lamp far forward on the deck.

He waited.

The figure approached noiselessly.

It was the Duke! He was wearing slippers, with felt soles apparently, for his steps caused no sound. Jarvis watched him with a strange misgiving--a fear not for himself. Yet he deemed it wiser to wait for developments.

Up and down the deck paced the nervous, noiseless figure. At last the Duke returned and disappeared from view, through the door by which he had entered the Kentuckian's view.

"I wonder what that meant?" thought Jarvis. "Perhaps he is having a fight with his conscience--just as I have been doing."

And he watched the speeding waves, racing past the great vessel as it seemed--for so steady was the swift advance of the ship that it seemed they were on dry land, rather than the boundless expanse of the depths.

"Here I am--after all my education, all the work of years, to advance myself, running away from my own country--an escaped gun-man, just like an East Side thug."

In the comfortable calm of the shipboard life, with unfamiliar scenes, away from the reminders of his tragedy at Meadow Green, it did not now seem a fine thing that he had done.

Man is not normally a destroyer of his own kind--and his fine instincts were a.s.serting themselves. Yet, after all, despite his vow to his father, this had been actual self-defense.