Alb bit his lip, and his eyes were growing dangerous. I had seen that look on his face once or twice.
"And he's engaged to her," said I.
That is, something inside of me popped out those words, and there they were, spoken, not to be taken back. Alb and I looked at each other. He flushed again. But he did not speak.
"Produce this Miss Van Buren," sneered Sir Alec.
"I will," I promised. "But before I do, calm yourself. You are in no fit state to speak to ladies."
"I wish to talk to my wife," said he.
"Aunt Fay is not on board this boat, and never has been," I pronounced, each nerve on edge lest one lovely feminine head or another should pop up from below. I knew well that we owed the extraordinary obedience of the girls to the magnetic influence of that remarkable woman their chaperon, and how long she could continue to exert the charm which meshed them in the cabin, as Vivien meshed Merlin in the hollow oak, it was impossible to guess. At any instant we might hear a girlish voice calling the name of Lady MacNairne. Even if Tibe—but I dared not think of Tibe.
Horatius holding his bridge alone, was nothing compared to me. No one could help me now.
"Pooh! Do you expect me to believe that? After what happened at Leeuwarden—when I trusted you?"
"You trusted me," said I, coldly, "with good reason, and it would be well if you did so again. Kindly state what, from your point of view, did happen at Leeuwarden to bring this storm of unmerited abuse upon my head."