"Oh, I should say about daylight; call it half-past six to-morrow
morning. That will necessitate our starting from here at--um! Before I
can determine that I must see which way the wind is, and at what
strength it is blowing. I will have a look round on deck after dinner,
and let you all know."
Accordingly, as soon as Lady Olivia had retired from the table, Mildmay
rose from his seat, went on deck, and returned in about five minutes
with the information that a bitterly keen, northerly wind was blowing at
a strength of about twenty miles an hour.
"That," he remarked, "is a dead fair wind for us, and will enable us to
progress at the rate of one hundred and forty miles an hour over the
ground, if we proceed at full speed, and we shall therefore--Stop a
moment; I must work this out on paper."
He drew an envelope from his pocket and proceeded to make a few rapid
calculations upon it.
"Yes," he resumed at length, as he ran over his figures a second time,
"that is right. If we start at midnight we shall--assuming the wind to
hold all the way as it is now--overtake the convict-ship about half-past
six o'clock to-morrow morning at a point, say, one hundred and
sixty-five miles south of Odessa, which is practically halfway across
the Black Sea. The time and place are both suitable, and I do not think
that we can do better."
As this was essentially a point for a sailor to decide, the other
members of the party at once fell in with this virtual proposal of
Mildmay's, and it was forthwith agreed, without further discussion, that
a start should be made at midnight. The men then rose and joined the
ladies in the drawing-room, or music-room, as the apartment was
indifferently called.
This music-room was a most noble chamber, both as to dimensions and
appearance, being the largest room in the ship. It was situated
immediately abaft the dining-saloon, from which access to it was gained.
It was, however, a much larger apartment than the other, being, like
the dining-saloon, the full width of the ship, and forty feet in length
between the fore and after bulkheads, its height being ten feet to the
lower edge of the massive and richly moulded cornice from which sprang
the coved and panelled ceiling. The walls were divided up into panels
by a series of fluted pilasters surmounted by elegantly and fancifully
moulded capitals upon which rested the above-mentioned cornice.
Centrally between the pilasters, the side walls of the apartment were
pierced with circular ports, or windows, about eighteen inches in
diameter, glazed with plate-glass of enormous thickness that had been
specially toughened, by a process invented by the professor, to enable
it to withstand the terrific pressure to which it would be subjected
when the ship should be submerged to great depths in the ocean. The
frames of these ports consisted of foliated wreaths of polished
aethereum, presenting the appearance of burnished silver, and were
exceedingly decorative in effect. A light rod of aethereum above each
port carried a number of burnished rings from which drooped handsome
lace curtains, that could either be looped back or allowed to veil the
window, according to the fancy of the occupants. Above these, again,
were hung a number of exquisite pictures in water-colour. The floor was
covered with a very rich and handsome Turkey carpet, into which one sank
almost to the ankles, as into a thick bed of soft moss; chairs, couches,
and divans of exquisite shape and seductive capacity were scattered here
and there about the apartment, and at its fore or wider end stood, close
together, a grand piano and a chamber organ, both in superbly modelled
aethereum cases, and both, it need scarcely be said, of the finest
quality and workmanship obtainable; while the narrower or after end was
almost filled by a capacious electric stove, or fireplace, with a most
singularly handsome mantelpiece, supported on either side by a
beautifully modelled female figure. The centre of the mantelpiece was
occupied by a handsome clock, having a set of silvery chimes for the
quarters and a deep, rich-toned gong for the hours, and on either side
of it were a number of elegantly shaped vases, full of choice hot-house
flowers. But the most striking feature of the whole apartment was its
beautiful coved and panelled ceiling, with its exquisitely moulded
interlacing ribs, the choice and dainty paintings that adorned its
panels, and the magnificent skylight that occupied its centre. This
skylight, it may be mentioned, was such only in appearance, as it did
not pierce the deck or derive its light from the outside; it was merely
a fanciful and decorative device of the professor's, the light emanating
from a series of electric lamps shaded by coloured glass screens, so
tinted as to permit, by the simple manipulation of certain concealed
mirrors, the effect of every description of light, from that of the
unclouded midday sun, through every gradation of morning or afternoon
light, to that of sunset, the softest dusk of evening, or even the light
of the full moon.
The apartment presented a charmingly cosy and comfortable as well as
attractive appearance as the four men entered it, the electric stove
emitting a cheerful glow and diffusing just the right degree of warmth,
while an afternoon effect of brilliant sunlight streamed richly down
through the magnificent stained-glass of the skylight in the centre of
the ceiling. Lady Olivia and her guest, the young Russian girl, were
sitting together on a large divan, in close contiguity to a handsome
music cabinet, turning over books and sheets of music, for Feodorovna
had consented to sing, and was now searching her hostess's stock of
music in quest of something with which she was familiar.
"Ach, that is good!" exclaimed the professor, as he noted the occupation
of the ladies and guessed its import. "My little Feodorovna is about to
sing? Then we shall all have a treat, for let me tell you, Lady Olivia,
that my young friend possesses the voice of an angel, and the knowledge
how to use it properly. Now, what is it to be? Tschaikowski,
Beethoven, Schubert, Brahms, Handel, Mozart? Ah, here is something that
will suit your voice, little one, `Caro mio ben!' by Giuseppe Giordani--
quaint, delicate, old-fashioned. Come, I will play your accompaniment
for you." And, taking the girl's hand, von Schalckenberg, who was an
accomplished as well as an enthusiastic musician, led her to the piano,
at which he forthwith seated himself and at once proceeded to play, with
crisp yet delicate touch and manifest enjoyment, the prelude to the
song.
And then, indeed, as the professor had promised, the listeners had a
treat, for Mlle. Sziszkinski's voice was of a rare quality, rich, pure,
flexible, clear as a silver bell, under perfect control, sympathetic,
and peculiarly adapted to render with precisely the correct feeling the
pleading words--
"Caro mio ben, credimi almen, senza di te languisce il cor," etcetera.
Tears gathered in her fine eyes as she sang, and the final note of the
song was almost a sob; for she possessed the comparatively rare ability
to evolve the feeling and sentiment of the words she sang and make them
her own, thus bringing them home to the hearts of those who listened.
Yet she laughingly apologised for herself the next moment, as she turned
away from the piano, upon receiving the hearty thanks of her little
audience; for, although she was a true artist, she was entirely free
from any morbidity of feeling, being, in fact, a perfectly natural,
light-hearted girl. And her gay and cheerful disposition was already
reasserting itself now that, if she might accept the assurances of the
professor and her new-found friends, her father's troubles were nearing
their end, and his deliverance from persecution was a matter of but a
few hours more.
Then the professor sang a rollicking German students' song. He was
followed by Lady Olivia, who sang Gounod's "Ave Maria," accompanied by
her husband on the piano, and the professor on the organ. Then Mildmay
produced his violin. And so the time slipped rapidly on until the clock
upon the mantelpiece struck the hour of midnight, when "Good-nights"
were said, and the ladies retired to their respective cabins; while the
four men wended their way to the pilot-house to indulge in a final
smoke, and incidentally to raise the _Flying Fish_ into the air and
start her upon her long flight across Russia, from north to south.