The captain was still incredulous. “Do you mean to tell me,” he exclaimed, “that charming little woman is not an American at all?—that she is a fraud?”
“There isn’t a shadow of a doubt about it,” Mr. Sabin replied. “They have both tacitly admitted it. As a matter of fact I am in treaty now to buy them over. They were on the point of accepting my terms when these fellows boarded us. Whether they will do so now I cannot tell. I saw that fellow Graisheim talking to the man just before they left the vessel.”
“You are safe while you are on my ship, Mr. Sabin,” the captain said firmly. “I shall watch that fellow Watson closely, and if he gives me the least chance, I will have him put in irons. Confound the man and his plausible——”
They were interrupted by the deck steward, who came with a message from Mrs. Watson. She was making tea on deck—might she have the loan of the captain’s table, and would they come?
The captain gave the necessary assent, but was on the point of declining the invitation. “I don’t want to go near the people,” he said.
“On the other hand,” Mr. Sabin objected, “I do not want them to think, at present at any rate, that I have told you who they are. You had better come.”
They crossed the deck to a sunny little corner behind one of the boats, where Mrs. Watson had just completed her preparation for tea.
She greeted them gaily and chatted to them while they waited for the kettle to boil, but to Mr. Sabin’s observant eyes there was a remarkable change in her. Her laughter was forced and she was very pale.
Several times Mr. Sabin caught her watching him in an odd way as though she desired to attract his attention, but Mr. Watson, who for once had seemed to desert the smoking-room, remained by her side like a shadow. Mr. Sabin felt that his presence was ominous. The tea was made and handed round.
Mr. Watson sent away the deck steward, who was preparing to wait upon them, and did the honours himself. He passed the sugar to the captain and stood before Mr. Sabin with the sugar-tongs in his hand.