So our distracted Philip pulled himself up sharply, paced back
and forth between port and starboard, and surveyed ship, binnacle, and
horizon with alert vigilance.
On the fore-deck groups of sailors and firemen belonging to both
vessels were fraternizing. There could be little room for speculation
as to the subject of their broken talk. It was of De Sylva, of
Brazil's new dictator, of the gold he would control when he became
President again. The slow-moving Teutonic mind was beginning to
assimilate the notion that there was money in this escapade. That the
tatterdemalion then closeted with the _Unser Fritz's_ captain could
obtain a certified check for a million sterling, and twenty-five times
as many millions of francs, and even then remain a man of means, was
unbelievable; but if he regained power, that was different. _Ende gut,
alles gut_. There might be pickings in it.
Soon after sunset Iris reappeared. She walked on the after deck with
San Benavides, and seemed to be listening with great attention to
something he was telling her. Hozier was often compelled to look that
way in order to make certain that the _Sao Geronimo_ was not
overhauling the ship in one of her circling flights over the wide
channel. He wondered what in the world San Benavides was saying that
his chatter should be so interesting, and he acknowledged with a pang
that Iris was deliberately avoiding his own occasional glances in her
direction.
Pages:
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272