The thought brought him sudden relief. That explained it! They had some work they were doing together. Perhaps Kasia acted as her father's secretary, and even now was writing to his dictation. She had said that he was engaged in some gigantic project, the nature of which Dan understood but dimly—a plan for the disarmament of the world, or something like that. As he remembered them here in the cold light of day, her words of the night before seemed more than a little fantastic; but perhaps he had not understood, or perhaps she had spoken figuratively. "The nations of the world in the hollow of his hand"—that, of course, was figurative. And, equally of course, Vard's plan would come to nothing. But it would be interesting to know more of it.
He must have a talk with Vard before the voyage ended. A story like that would make good copy, and a little newspaper propaganda would help the thing along. Meanwhile, there was nothing to do but wait until Miss Vard should choose to reappear. He cast his mind back over the story she had told him—ye gods! what a feature that would make, told just as she had told it, simply and earnestly and without embellishment. Perhaps he could persuade her to write it for the Record. He could picture the shining face of Craftsman, the Sunday editor, as he read it!
Some one, crossing the deck unperceived by him, sat down beside him. He turned quickly; but it was only Chevrial.
"Ah, M. Webster," said the Frenchman, smiling, "you were among the day dreams; and they were not of me. That is apparent from the look with which you regard me!"
Dan flushed a little, and then he laughed. There was no resisting Chevrial's genial humour.
"No," he admitted; "they were of some one quite different."
"Nevertheless, until that 'some one' appears, I trust that I am welcome?"
"Indeed you are. I'm glad you came!"
Dan spoke warmly, and his companion, with a little satisfied nod, settled back into the seat. They had seen very little of each other since the moment of meeting. Dan had gone to bed the previous night before his roommate appeared, and had not even heard him come in. This morning, when he arose, Chevrial was sleeping calmly, and Dan had gathered his clothes together as noiselessly as he could and stolen away to the bathroom. They had passed each other once or twice on the promenade, and had nodded but had not spoken—and then Dan remembered suddenly the flare of light from the near-by bench the night before, as he and Kasia rose to go below. Chevrial smiled again as he met his glance.
"You are thinking of last night?" he said. "Yes? It is concerning that I wish first to speak to you. When I sat down yonder I was not conscious that this bench was occupied. You and the young lady were speaking in very low tones, and the bench itself was in shadow. It was only when she raised her voice that I realised I was hearing what was not intended for me. I was just about to go, when she stopped abruptly, and a moment later you went down together. It was then that you noticed me. I struck the match in order that you might see that it was I, and so have no uneasiness."