The Red Rat's Daughter by Guy Boothby (best books to read for self improvement TXT) 📖

you have."

"They had better treat my wife as I wish them to, or beware of me," said Browne angrily. "If they treat her badly they'll find I've got claws."

"But, my dear fellow, you are running your head against the wall," said Jimmy. "I never said they _would_ treat her badly. On the contrary, they will treat her wonderfully well; for, remember, she is your wife. They will accept all her invitations for dances in London, will stay with her in the country; they will yacht, hunt, fish, and shoot with you; but the mothers, who, after all is said and done, are the leaders of society, will never forget or forgive you. My dear fellow," he continued, with the air of a man who knew his world thoroughly, which, to do him justice, he certainly did, "you surely do not imagine for an instant that Miss Verney has forgotten that----"

"We'll leave Miss Verney out of the question, Jimmy, if you don't mind," replied Browne, with rather a different intonation.

"I thought that would make him wince," murmured Jimmy to himself; and then added aloud, "Never mind, old man; we won't pursue the subject any further. It's not a nice one, and we've plenty else to think about, have we not? Let me tell you, I am looking forward to this little business more than I have ever done to anything. The only regret I have about it is that there does not appear to be any probability of our having some fighting. I must confess I should like to have a brush with the enemy, if possible."

"In that case we should be lost men," Browne replied. "No; whatever we do, we must avoid coming into actual conflict with the Authorities. By the way, what about Maas?"

"I saw him this morning," Foote replied. "I told him what arrangements we had made, and he will meet us whenever and wherever we wish. He seemed quite elated over the prospect of the voyage, and told me he thought it awfully good of you to take him. After all, he's not a bad sort of fellow. There is only one thing I don't like about him, and that is his predilection for wishing people to think he is in a delicate state of health."

"And you don't think he is?" said Browne.

"Of course I don't," Jimmy replied. "Why, only this morning I was with him more than an hour, and he didn't cough once; and yet he was continually pointing out to me that it was so necessary for his health--for his lungs, in fact---that he should go out of England at once. It is my idea that he is hypochondriacal."

"Whatever he is, I wish to goodness he had chosen any other time for wanting to accompany us. I have a sort of notion that his presence on board will bring us bad luck."

"Nonsense," said his matter-of-fact friend. "Why should it? Maas could do us no harm, even supposing he wanted to. And he's certain not to have any desire that way."

"Well," answered Browne, "that is what I feel, and yet I can't make out why I should do so." As he said this he pressed the ring Katharine had given him, and remembered that that was his talisman, and that she had told him that, while he wore it, he could come to no harm. With that on his finger, and his love for her in his heart, it would be wonderful indeed if he could not fulfil the task he had set himself to do.

It is strange how ignorant we are of the doings, and indeed of the very lives, of our fellow-men. I do not mean the actions which, in the broad light of day, lie in the ordinary routine of life, but those more important circumstances which are not seen, but make up, and help to weave the skein of each man's destiny. For instance, had a certain well-known official in the office of the Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs, who stood upon the platform of Waterloo station, waiting for the train that was to carry him to the residence of a friend at Woking, dreamt for an instant that the three gentlemen he nodded so affably to, and who were standing at the door of a saloon carriage in the same train, were leaving England next day, in order to cause considerable trouble to a Power that, at the moment had shown signs of being friendly, what would his feelings have been? He did not know it, however; so he seated himself in his comfortable smoking-carriage, lit a cigar, and read his Sunday paper, quite unconscious of the circumstances.

It was nearly eight o'clock before they readied Southampton. When they did they made their way to the harbour, where a steam-launch from the yacht was awaiting them. The _Lotus Blossom_ herself lay off the Royal Pier; and when they reached her, Captain Mason received them at the gangway.

"Well, Mason," said Browne, "is everything ready for the start to-morrow?"

"Everything is ready, sir," Mason replied. "You have only to say when you desire to get off, and we'll up anchor."

Browne thought that he would like to get under way at once; but it could not be. He looked along the snow-white decks and upon the polished brasswork, and thought of the day that he had left the boat when she was anchored in the harbour of Merok, to accompany his guests on their walk to the falls, and of the wonderful things that had happened since then. Before many weeks had passed over their heads he hoped that Katherine herself would be standing on these self-same decks. He pictured the delight he would feel in showing her over his trim and beautiful vessel, and thought of the long conversations they would have on deck at night, and of the happiness they would feel when they were speeding towards safety once more, with the rescued man on board. What they were to do with her father, when they had got him, was one thing he wanted to leave to Katherine to decide. He was awakened from these dreams by Foote, who inquired whether he intended to allow his guests to remain on deck all night, or whether he was going to take them below.

"I beg your pardon," said Browne. "It's awfully rude of me to keep you standing here like this. Come along."

They accordingly made their way down the companion-ladder to the saloon below. Everything had been prepared for their reception, and the stewards were already laying dinner as they entered. Having finished that important meal, and drunk the toast of a pleasant voyage, they ascended to the deck once more, when Foote and Maas made their way to the smoking-room, while Browne went up to the bridge to have a talk with the captain. When he descended again, he announced to his guests that the yacht would be got under way as soon as it was light in the morning, and that the first coaling-place would be Gibraltar.

"Bravo!" said Jimmy, rapping the table with his pipe. "Thank goodness, by midday we shall be well out in the Channel."

At the same moment Maas's cigar slipped from between his fingers and dropped on the floor. He bent down to pick it up, but at first could not find it. By the time he had done so the conversation had changed, and Browne had drawn his watch from his pocket. A cry of astonishment escaped him: "Have you any idea what the time is?"

They confessed that they had not.

"Well, it's nearly twelve o'clock," he said. "If you won't either of you take anything else, I think the best thing we can do is to get to bed as soon as possible."

So tired was Browne that night that he slept without waking until well on in the following morning. Indeed, it was past nine o'clock when Davis, his man-servant, entered and woke him; he sat up, and rubbed his eyes, as if he could very well have gone on sleeping for another hour or two.

"By Jove! we're under way," he said, as if he were surprised to find the yacht moving. "Where are we, Davis?"

"Off Swanage, sir," the man replied. "Captain Mason couldn't get away quite as early as he hoped to do; but he's making up for lost time now, sir."

"What sort of a day is it?" Browne inquired.

"Beautiful, sir; it couldn't be no better if you'd ordered it special," said Davis, who was a bit of a wag in his way, and was privileged as such. "There's just a nice bit of swell running, but no more. Not enough to shake the curls of a schoolmistress, in a manner of speaking."

This Browne discovered to be the case, when he ascended to the deck. The yacht was bathed in sunshine, and she sat as softly as a duck upon a large green swell, that was as easy as the motion of a rocking-horse. Far away to starboard the pinewood cliffs of Bournemouth could be descried; while a point on the starboard-bow was Poole Harbour and Swanage headland, with Old Harry peering up out of the sunlit waves. Browne ascended to the bridge, to find Foote and Captain Mason there. The latter touched his cap, while Foote came forward and held out his hand.

"Good-morning," said Jimmy. "What do you think of this, my boy? Isn't it better than London? Doesn't it make you feel it's worth something to be alive? I wouldn't change places this morning with any man in England."

"And you may be very sure I would not," said Browne; then, turning to the skipper, he inquired what the yacht was doing.

"Thirteen knots good, sir," the latter replied. "We shall do better, however, when we've put Portland Bill behind us."

As he spoke the breakfast-bell sounded, and simultaneously with it Maas appeared on deck. Browne and Foote descended from the bridge to greet him, and found him in excellent spirits.

"I feel better already," he said, as they went down the companion-ladder and took their places at the table. "How beautiful the air is on deck! Alchemists may say what they please, but this is the Elixir of Life. What a pity it is we cannot bottle it, and introduce it into the crowded ballrooms and dining-rooms during the London season!"

"That's rather an original notion," retorted Jimmy. "Fancy, after a waltz with a heavy partner, taking her off to a room set apart for the purpose, seating her in a chair, and, instead of asking her the usual insipid question, whether she would have an ice, or coffee, or claret cup, inquiring what brand of air she preferred--whether she would have a gallon of Bournemouth, which is relaxing, or Margate, which is bracing, or Folkestone--shall we say?--which is midway between the two. It could be laid on in town and country houses, and, combined with the phonograph, which would repeat the nigger minstrel melodies of the sands, and the biograph, which would show the surrounding scenery, would be a tremendous attraction. Having purchased one of these machines, paterfamilias need not trouble his head about taking his family away for the annual trip to the seaside. Rents would not affect him;