The Red Rat's Daughter - Guy Boothby (ebook reader 7 inch txt) 📗

presume you are satisfied that he is not the man you want?"

The officer nodded his head. "Quite satisfied," he answered emphatically. "The man I want is a little, old fellow with red hair. He is thirty years this gentleman's senior."

Thereupon they passed out of the cabin again, and made their way along the alley-way towards the drawing-room once more.

When they reached it they found Katherine and Madame Bernstein awaiting them there. Browne, in a tone of apology, explained the reason of the officer's visit.

"However, I hope soon to be able to convince him that his suspicions are unfounded," he said in conclusion. "We have searched every portion of the yacht, and he has not so far discovered the man he wants."

"Do you say that the person you are looking for is a Russian convict?" continued Madame Bernstein, who felt that she must say something in order to cover the look of fear, that was spreading over Katherine's face.

"Yes, Madame," the officer replied. "He is a most dangerous person, who in his time has caused the police an infinity of trouble."

"A Nihilist, I suppose?" remarked Browne, as if he thought that that point might be taken for granted.

"Indeed, no," continued the officer. "His name is Kleinkopf, and he is, or rather was, the most noted diamond-thief in Europe."

"What?" cried Browne, startled out of himself by what the other said. "What do you mean? A diamond----"

What he was about to add must for ever remain a mystery, for at that moment Madame Bernstein uttered a little cry and fell forward against the table in a dead faint. With a face as ashen as a cere-cloth, Katherine ran to her assistance, and Browne followed her example. Together they raised her and carried her to a seat.

"You see, sir, what mischief you have done," said Browne, addressing the Russian officer, who stood looking from one to another of them, as if he scarcely knew what to say or how to act. "You have frightened her into a faint."

Picking her up in his arms, he carried her to her cabin, and laid her in her bunk. Then, resigning her to the care of Katharine and the stewardess, whom he had summoned to his assistance, he rejoined the officer outside.

"If you will come with me, sir," he began, "I will show you the remainder of the vessel, and then I think you will be able to return to your ship and inform your commander that, on this occasion, at least, he has committed an egregious blunder, of which he will hear more anon."

"I am at monsieur's disposal," replied the officer; and together they entered Katherine's cabin. Needless to say there was no sign of any fugitive there. Browne's own cabin followed next, with the same result. At last they reached the deck once more.

"You are satisfied, I presume, sir, that the man you want is not on board my yacht?" asked Browne, with considerable hauteur.

"Quite satisfied," replied the other. "And yet I can assure you, monsieur, that we had the best reasons for believing that you were conniving at his escape."

"I am very much obliged to you, I am sure," retorted Browne. "I fancy, however, that, even presuming I contemplated anything of the sort, I have convinced you that I have not carried it out yet. And now I have the honour to wish you a very good morning. My engineer informs me that the break-down in the engine-room has been repaired; and, if you have any suspicions left, you will have the satisfaction of seeing us get under way without further delay. I tell you this in case you should imagine, that I intend hanging about here, in the hope of picking up the man to whom you allude. By the way, did you say that his name is Kleinkopf, and that he was originally a diamond-thief?"

"He was the most expert diamond-thief in Europe, monsieur," the officer replied. "Now, permit me to offer my apologies for the trouble to which I have put you, and to bid you farewell. At the same time, if you will allow me to do so, I will give you a little advice. If I were in your place I should leave this coast as soon as possible."

"I shall do so within a quarter of an hour, at latest," Browne answered.

With that the officer saluted once more and disappeared down the companion-ladder. A few moments later his boat was to be seen making her way in the direction of the man-of-war. Browne stood and watched her, scarcely able to realize that all danger was now passed and clone with. Then he turned to go in search of his friends, and as he did so a thought came into his mind, and brought him to a standstill once more. What could the officer have meant when he had said that the escaped convict's name was Kleinkopf, and that he was not a Nihilist, as they had been informed, but a diamond-thief; not a man who plotted and risked his life for the welfare of his country, but a common felon, who lived by defrauding the general public? Was it possible that Katherine's father could have been such a man? No; a thousand times no! He would never believe such a thing. But if it were not so, what did it all mean? Madame Bernstein had recognised the fugitive as Katherine's father, and the man himself had rejoiced at being with his daughter again after so long a separation. There was a mystery somewhere, upon which he would have to be enlightened before very long.

As he arrived at this conclusion Captain Mason approached him.

"The chief-engineer reports that all is ready, sir," he said. "If you wish it we can get under way at once."

"The sooner the better, Mason," Browne replied. "I shall not be happy until we have put the horizon between ourselves and that gentleman over there."

He nodded in the direction of the cruiser, which the boat had just reached.

"I agree with you, sir," answered the captain. "I will get the anchor away at once."

"Before you do so, Mason," said Browne, "just get those two men out of the tunnel and send them aft. Don't let them come on deck whatever you do. They're certain to have their glasses on us over yonder."

"Very good, sir," Mason returned, and went forward to execute his errand.

Anxious as he was to go below, Browne did not leave the deck until the screw had commenced to revolve. When he did, it was with a great fear in his heart--one that he would have found it extremely difficult either to describe or to account for. As he argued with himself, it was extremely unlikely that the Russian Authorities would make a mistake; and yet, if they did not, why had Madame Bernstein always been so anxious to assure Katherine that the man, he had saved, was her father? And, what was still more important, why had she fainted that morning when the officer had given his information concerning the fugitive? When he entered the drawing-room, to his surprise, he found Katherine alone there. Her face was still very white, and it struck Browne that she had been crying.

"What is the matter, dear?" he inquired, as he placed his arm round her and drew her towards him. "Why do you look so troubled?"

"I do not know," she answered, burying her face in his shoulder, "but I am very, very unhappy."

He did his best to soothe her, but without success. A weight was pressing upon her mind, and until it was removed relief would be impossible. For some reason Browne made no inquiry after Madame's condition. It seemed, for the moment, as if he had forgotten her very existence. At last he bade Katherine put on her hat and accompany him to the deck. The fresh air would revive her, he said. She accordingly departed to her cabin, and in five minutes rejoined him. In the meanwhile Browne had visited the cabin on the starboard side, and had informed Foote of all that had transpired. Maas was still sleeping quietly in his bunk.

"Thank goodness they've cleared out," said Jimmy. "Now our friend here can wake up as soon as he pleases."

"The sooner the better," Browne replied. "In the meantime, Jimmy, I've something awfully important to say to you."

In a few words Browne told him what he had discovered, and what he suspected. Foote listened with attention, and when he had finished, scratched his chin and regarded his own face in the mirror opposite, looking the very figure and picture of perplexity.

"What did I always tell you?" he remarked at last. "I was as certain then, as I am now, that the woman was playing some underhand game, though what it is I cannot say. However, I'll find out somehow or another. Upon my word, when we return to civilization, I think I shall embark upon the career of a private inquiry agent."

Feeling that there was nothing more to be said upon the subject just then, Browne left him, and returned to the drawing-room in search of Katherine. He found her ready to accompany him to the deck above.

"The fresh air will soon bring the roses back to your cheeks," he whispered, as they made their way along the drawing-room in the direction of the companion-ladder.

She was about to reply, when the sound of footsteps reached them from the port alley-way, and, before they had set foot upon the first step, MacAndrew and the fugitive stood before them. Browne noticed that Katherine instinctively shrank away from the latter. He accordingly slipped his arm round her, and, telling MacAndrew that he would like to speak to him in a few minutes, led her to the deck above.


CHAPTER XXX


Their first business when they reached the deck was to glance in the direction whence they had last seen the cruiser. Then she had been a living and very present reality to them; now she was only a tiny speck upon the horizon, and in a quarter of an hour, or even less, she would have vanished altogether. They made their way aft to the taffrail, and stood there leaning on the rail, looking at her. Both felt that it was a crisis in their lives, that had to be tided over, and knew that, if ever they desired to be happy together, they must fight the next ten minutes on their merits. For this reason, perhaps, they began by being unusually silent. It was Katherine who spoke first.

"Dearest," she commenced very slowly, "I want you to listen to me and not to speak until I have finished. I have something to say to you, and I don't quite know how to say it. I don't want you to think that I am capricious, or that I think only of myself. In this I am thinking of you, and of your happiness only."

"I can quite believe that," Browne replied, trying to force down the lump that was rising in his throat. "But I must hear you out before