THE COMING OF THE "KAISER WILHELM"
The habit of early rising was one which Mr. Sabin had never cultivated,
and breakfast was a meal which he abhorred. It was not until nearly
midday on the following morning that he appeared on deck, and he had
scarcely exchanged his customary greeting with the captain, before he
was joined by Mr. Watson, who had obviously been on the look-out for
him.
"I want, sir," the latter commenced, "to apologise to you for my conduct
last night."
Mr. Sabin looked at him keenly.
"There is no necessity for anything of the sort," he said. "If any
apology is owing at all, it is, I think, to your wife."
Mr. Watson shook his head vigorously.
"No, sir," he declared, "I am ashamed to say that I am not very clear as
to the actual expressions I made, but Mrs. Watson has assured me that my
behaviour to you was discourteous in the extreme."
"I hope you will think no more of it. I had already," Mr. Sabin said,
"forgotten the circumstance. It is not of the slightest consequence."
"You are very good," Mr. Watson said softly.
"I had the pleasure," Mr. Sabin remarked, "of an interesting
conversation with your wife last night. You are a very fortunate man."
"I think so indeed, sir," Mr. Watson replied modestly.
"American women," Mr. Sabin continued, looking meditatively out to sea,
"are very fascinating."
"I have always found them so," Mr. Watson agreed.
"Mrs. Watson," Mr. Sabin said, "told me so much that was interesting
about your wonderful country that I am looking forward to my visit more
than ever."
Mr. Watson darted a keen glance at his companion. He was suddenly on his
guard. For the first time he realised something of the resources of this
man with whom he had to deal.
"My wife," he said, "knows really very little of her native country; she
has lived nearly all her life abroad."
"So I perceived," Mr. Sabin answered. "Shall we sit down a moment, Mr.
Watson? One wearies so of this incessant promenading, and there is a
little matter which I fancy that you and I might discuss with
advantage."
Mr. Watson obeyed in silence. This was a wonderful man with whom he had
to deal. Already he felt that all the elaborate precautions of his
coming had been wasted. He might be Mr. James B. Watson, the New York
yacht owner and millionaire, to the captain and his seven passengers,
but he was nothing of the sort to Mr. Sabin. He shrugged his shoulders,
and followed him to a seat. After all silence was a safe card.
"I'm going," Mr. Sabin said, "to be very frank with you. I know, of
course, who you are."
Mr. Watson shrugged his shoulders.
"Do you?" he remarked dryly.
Mr. Sabin bowed, with a faint smile at the corner of his lips.
"Certainly," he answered, "you are Mr. James B. Watson of New York, and
the lady with you is your wife. Now I want to tell you a little about
myself."
"Most interested, I'm sure," Mr. Watson murmured.
"My real name," Mr. Sabin said, turning a little as though to face his
companion, "is Victor Duc de Souspennier. It suits me at present to
travel under the name by which I was known in England and by which you
are in the habit of addressing me. Mr. Watson, I'm leaving England
because a certain scheme of mine, which, if successful, would have
revolutionised the whole face of Europe, has by a most unfortunate
chance become a failure. I have incurred thereby the resentment, perhaps
I should say the just resentment, of a great nation. I am on my way to
the country where I concluded I should be safest against those means of,
shall I say, retribution, or vengeance, which will assuredly be used
against me. Now what I want to say to you, Mr. Watson, is this--I am a
rich man, and I value my life at a great deal of money. I wonder if by
any chance you understand me."
Mr. Watson smiled.
"I'm curious to know," he said softly, "at what price you value
yourself."
"My account in New York," Mr. Sabin said quietly, "is, I believe,
something like ten thousand pounds."
"Fifty thousand dollars," Mr. Watson remarked, "is a nice little sum for
one, but an awkward amount to divide."
Mr. Sabin lit a cigarette and breathed more freely. He began to see his
way.
"I forgot the lady," he murmured. "The expense of cabling is not great.
For the sake of argument, let us say twenty thousand."
Mr. Watson rose.
"So far as I'm concerned," he said, "it is a satisfactory sum. Forgive
me if I leave you for a few minutes, I must have a little talk with Mrs.
Watson."
Mr. Sabin nodded.
"We will have a cigar together after lunch," he said. "I must have my
morning game of shuffleboard with the captain."
Mr. Watson went below, and Mr. Sabin played shuffleboard with his usual
deadly skill.
A slight mist had settled around them by the time the game was over,
and the fog-horn was blowing, the captain went on the bridge, and the
engines were checked to half speed.
Mr. Sabin leaned over the side of the vessel, and gazed thoughtfully
into the dense white vapour.
"I think," he said softly to himself, "that after all I'm safe."
There was perfect silence on the ship. Even the luncheon gong had not
sounded, the passengers having been summoned in a whisper by the deck
steward. The fog seemed to be getting denser and the sea was like glass.
Suddenly there was a little commotion aft, and the captain leaning
forward shouted some brief orders. The fog-horn emitted a series of
spasmodic and hideous shrills, and beyond a slight drifting the steamer
was almost motionless.
Mr. Sabin understood at once that somewhere, it might be close at hand,
or it might be a mile away, the presence of another steamer had been
detected.
The same almost ghostlike stillness continued, orders were passed
backward and forward in whispers. The men walked backward and forward on
tip-toe. And then suddenly, without any warning, they passed out into
the clear air, the mist rolled away, the sun shone down upon them again,
and the decks dried as though by magic. Cheerful voices broke in upon
the chill and unnatural silence. The machinery recommenced to throb, and
the passengers who had finished lunch went upon deck. Every one was
attracted at once by the sight of a large white steamer about a mile on
the starboard side.
Mr. Watson joined the captain, who was examining her through his glass.
"Man-of-war, isn't she?" he inquired.
The captain nodded.
"Not much doubt about that," he answered; "look at her guns. The odd
part of it is, too, she is flying no flag. We shall know who she is
in a minute or two, though."
Mr. Sabin descended the steps on his way to a late luncheon. As he
turned the corner he came face to face with Mr. Watson, whose eyes were
fixed upon the coming steamer with a very curious expression.
"Man-of-war," Mr. Sabin remarked. "You look as though you had seen her
before."
Mr. Watson laughed harshly.
"I should like to see her," he remarked, "at the bottom of the sea."
Mr. Sabin looked at him in surprise.
"You know her, then?" he remarked.
"I know her," Mr. Watson answered, "too well. She is the _Kaiser
Wilhelm_, and she is going to rob me of twenty thousand pounds."