The Englishman bowed stiffly, and gave me a searching look. "Engineer?" he repeated inquiringly. In his own mind he no doubt added, "Probably a police official."
"Yes, an engineer. Here in Norway we must all be something, we cannot only be gentlemen."
The Englishman did not seem to appreciate Monk's humour. He frowned, and made no reply.
"We have a few words to say to you," said Monk, quietly; "will it be convenient to take us down to your cabin?" He cast a glance full of significance at the two sailors who were busy near us.
The Englishman seemed to consider for a moment. He looked out over the sea and up at the rigging; then he put a little silver whistle to his mouth, and a man who appeared to be the steward appeared.
"Show these gentlemen down into the saloon—I am coming directly. I have just a word or two to say to the captain. He has to keep a lookout for the English steamer, and to fetch my party on board here."
His expression appeared to me to be somewhat strained and peculiar, and I cast a questioning glance at Monk; but as he seemed to be quite unconcerned, I had nothing else to do but to follow him and the steward below.
We went first along a corridor with two cabins on each side, then through a small saloon, which took up the whole width of the yacht, and then into a smaller one with a cabin on each side. The place was lighted by a skylight of opaque glass.
This was apparently the owner's private cabin. The size of the yacht did not admit of any large dimensions, but the cabin was luxuriously fitted, and four or five people could sit down in it very comfortably.
The owner of the yacht came down soon after; his face wore a friendly smile.