The captain received my proposal with apologetic gratitude. We left him curled up on the seat and went on deck. Hogvardt was at the wheel; a broad smile spread over his face.
‘At this rate, my lord,’ said he, ‘we shall make Cyprus in no time.’
‘Good,’ said I; and I did two things. I called Phroso and I loaded my revolver; a show of overwhelming force is, as we often hear, the surest guarantee of peace.
Denny now took a turn at the wheel; old Hogvardt went to eat his dinner. Phroso appeared, and she and I sat down in the stern, watching where Neopalia lay, now a little spot on the horizon; and then I myself told Phroso, in my own way, why I had so sorely neglected her all the morning; for Denny’s explanation had been summary and confused. She was fully entitled to my excuses and had come on deck in a state of delightful resentment, too soon, alas, banished by surprise and apprehension.
An hour or two passed thus very pleasantly; for the terror of Constantinople soon reconciled Phroso to every risk; her only fear was that she would never again be allowed to land in Neopalia. For this also I tried to console her and was, I am proud to say, succeeding very tolerably, when I looked up at the sound of footsteps. They came evenly towards us: then they suddenly stopped dead. I felt for my revolver; and I observed Denny carelessly strolling up, having been relieved again by Hogvardt. The captain stood motionless, three yards from where Phroso and I sat together. I rose with an easy smile.
‘I hope you’ve enjoyed your nap, captain,’ said I; and at the same moment I covered him with my barrel.
He was astounded. Indeed, well he might be. He stared helplessly at Phroso and at me. Denny was at his elbow now and took his arm in tolerant good humour.
‘You see we’ve played a little game on you,’ said Denny. ‘We couldn’t let the lady go to Constantinople. It isn’t at all a fit place for her, you know.’