"She's using him for a footstool."
All accounted for and under control! Yes; thrice wonderful little woman.
"We couldn't see anything of the race after all," went on Nell. "Did we beat?"
"That's what I've come to talk to you about," I said, not knowing in the least what I was going to say next. "It turned out," I went on slowly, "that a man I—er—know, was on board the boat we were racing. We beat it, but we didn't beat him; for he's walked on board since we've been jammed by a couple of brutes on barges. Oh, no harm done—don't be worried. The man is—in fact—Sir Alec MacNairne."
"Oh, the nice man we met at Amsterdam, and again at Leeuwarden, when we—we—" She blushed at the recollection. "He's a distant relation of——"
"Hush! Please don't speak her name or his loud enough for either to hear," I whispered. "I can't explain all to you; but—will you trust me?"
"Why, of course," said my lost Angel.
"Sir Alec MacNairne thinks his wife is on board, and he's very angry with Brederode and me, because, you see, he and his wife have had a quarrel," I vaguely explained. "He's got everything mixed up; and because he's heard that a Lady MacNairne's on this boat, he's been chasing us, full of fury. He's silly enough to believe that Brederode's in love with his wife, and—I can't make you understand precisely why, without giving away a secret of my aunt's—that nonsense of his is likely to work our Lady MacNairne a lot of harm."
"What a shame!" exclaimed sympathetic but puzzled Nell. "Can't anything be done about it?"
"Something has been done," said I. "That's what I want you to forgive me for, and—and help me to carry out, for Aunt Fay's sake. Poor Aunt Fay, who's suffering with her heart at this minute! What will she have to endure, if you don't stand by her!"