I now gathered dignity. My simple delight at an unexpected meeting with a relative (in law) in a foreign waterway, froze into virtuous indignation.
"Really, Sir Alec, I am at a loss to understand you," I said. "I greet you in the most friendly——"
"Because you're a scoundrel and a hypocrite," said he.
This interruption I scorned to notice, save by proceeding as I had intended to proceed.
"And you insult me. What do you mean, Sir Alec MacNairne?"
"I mean"—he caught me up without hesitation—"that you, though you pretended to sympathize when I confided in you, were in league with Rudolph Brederode to outwit and deceive me in the most shameless way."
"You forget yourself," said Brederode, turning red, and contriving to keep his dignity in spite of Hendrik's sopping overalls. "I have never deceived or injured you. If this were my boat, I should have to ask——"
"Don't try that on," said Sir Alec, scornfully. "It is your boat."
"It happens to be the property of Miss Van Buren, a young American lady, for whom I'm acting as skipper," returned Alb.
"Rot," was the terse comment of my uncle-in-law.