‘You have been to have a look over the ship?’ I threw out.
Kehler tried to pass on with a careless nod, but the lieutenant, less discreet, drew himself up with a severe glance at me.
‘Father Kehler has been good enough to visit a poor sailor who is lying sick on board,’ he said, in a tone evidently meant to rebuke my impertinence.
I bowed with assumed respect. But as they went on their way I experienced a sensation of alarm. The pretext which had imposed on the officer was transparent enough as far as I was concerned. I realised that Kehler was steadily pursuing some well-thought-out design, and that he had contrived this visit to the man-of-war with some dark purpose which it was my business to discover.
I determined at length, since Kehler’s friend was so strongly prejudiced, to seek out some other officer, preferably the commander, and take him into my full confidence. Unhappily events marched too swiftly for me. That very evening it was already too late.
“‘Father Kehler has been good enough to visit a poor sailor who is lying sick on board,’ he said, in a tone evidently meant to rebuke my impertinence.”
Passing through the entrance hall on my way upstairs to dress for dinner, I was struck by the sight of the basket-trunk belonging to Sister Marie-Joseph standing strapped-up, ready to go away. At the foot of the staircase I encountered the Sister herself, evidently prepared for departure.
She appeared pleased to have the opportunity of bidding me farewell.
‘I shall not forget you where I am going,’ she said with a mournful smile, as she extended her hand.