"For the Captain," he said, and came down again. "I regret that I must detain you, gentlemen," he added, "but I must obey the regulations."
"Certainly," agreed one of the men, and they stepped a little apart and stood talking together in low tones. But almost immediately the messenger appeared again at the top of the ladder.
"The Captain will receive you, gentlemen," he said, and swung open the gate and waited for them to pass. Then he closed the gate and hurried after them. Dan could see them going along the upper promenade; then they passed from sight.
The guard had stared after them as they climbed the ladder, and he stood staring for some little time after they had gone. Plainly he was much astonished. But at last, with a shake of the head, he turned away and resumed his walk.
Dan was about to turn away, too, when another incident attracted his attention. A barefooted sailor in white duck, coming from the stern of the ship, climbed to the rail, tested the rope holding the canvas windshield, and then, as the guard turned away, grasped a stanchion of the railing above his head and drew himself up quickly to the first promenade. Dan, looking after him, saw him run rapidly up the ladder to the forward boat-deck and disappear behind a life-boat.
That was a way, certainly, to evade the guard. Dan measured the distance from the rail to the upper deck, and wondered if he could pull himself up as quickly as the sailor had. He would have to be quick, or the guard would see him. And it was quite an athletic feat. Besides, he would be handicapped by his shoes; he might easily slip off the rail and over the side. No, that road was too dangerous, except as a last resort. Besides, if he were caught, it would be very awkward.
He returned to his bench and sat down again. After all, was there really any reason why he should warn Miss Vard? The whole thing was, most probably, nothing but a bit of rhodomontade on Chevrial's part. And who was Chevrial, anyway? How did it happen that he was so familiar with spies and secret services and systems of espionage? A most peculiar wine-merchant. Perhaps he was not a wine-merchant; perhaps....
"A penny for your thoughts, Mr. Webster," said a low voice, and some one sat down beside him.
He turned with a violent start.
"Kasia!" he cried, and then stopped, stammering. "I beg your pardon, Miss Vard," he said, also lowering his voice. "You startled me so!"