The diver had his minute instructions as to where to find the red morocco handbag, and his essay was to be confined solely to that item of treasure-trove. Many anxious minutes passed, however—while the pump squeaked and thumped monotonously and the gear was spasmodically paid out—before a rising swirl in the water indicated the return of the submerged venturer. But when at last his head and arms did appear over the side, the young lady gave a scream which “shivered to the stars.”
“THE YOUNG LADY GAVE A SCREAM WHICH ‘SHIVERED TO THE STARS.’”
“O—O! you sweet, you duck, you beauty!”
He laid the red morocco bag at her feet.
And so the object of the mission was accomplished.
Gilead, satisfied so far, had been nursing secret designs of sending Miss Limner and the shipping-clerk back to London together, while he followed by a later train. Finding, however, to his discomfiture that the clerk, after formally identifying the property (which was packed away thrillingly among natty little articles of ornament and attire) had instructions to remain at Sheerness, his gallantry would leave him no alternative but to escort the lady back to town himself. A further coup de la fortune consigned them to a compartment in the train of which they remained the sole undisturbed possessors.
Miss Limner, a very new expression on her face, half insolence, half exultation, lolled back against the cushions, regarding the young man with an eye of saucy self-possession. She did not open her mouth, however, until they were well started on their return journey; and then she spoke suddenly, and to disturbing effect.
“You have been very kind to me,” she said. “Would you like to kiss me?”
The momentary shock of which Gilead was conscious did not escape her observation. She laughed musically.