“It’s all right!” said the voice. “He’s coming to.”
Instinctively Topham struggled to his feet despite the girl’s protests. He could see little more than her figure in the semi-darkness, but he nevertheless felt sure that it was she. “Miss Ferreira!” he murmured.
“Oh! you are better! senor! I am glad.” Her English was perfect except for a soft Castilian burr.
Topham strove to answer, and succeeded better than he hoped. “Yes! I’m better. Thanks to you! senorita. Heavens, I don’t know what got into me! I haven’t been seasick since—since—. Is this your chair?”
“Yes! But do not leave it, I beg. I had just come on deck when I noticed that you were ill. Perhaps you ate something for dinner that disagreed with you.”
“Perhaps!” ruefully. “That’s the usual excuse for getting seasick, you know. However—Good Heavens!”
Topham’s heart almost stopped beating. He whipped his hand into his inner coat pocket and found—nothing! Desperately he snatched at another pocket—and another!
With distended eyes the girl stared at him. “You have lost something, senor?” she queried.
“Lost! Lost! Good Heavens, I—” Suddenly Topham dropped his hands and laughed aloud. “Oh! What an idiot I am!” he cried. “No! I haven’t lost anything, senorita. I must be daffy. I was looking for something, forgetting that I had put it away for safe-keeping.”