“You young rascal!” he exclaimed, above the sound of the fog-whistle, “what a fool you are making of yourself! One would think you actually were all that you have been pretending. Did Saxton commission you? How? When? Or did Marcy? Did you ever see Saxton? Do you know any thing about Saxton, except from this boy, or the hotel people? Have you so much as a single letter in your pocket to bear you out?”
This unlucky lack already had occurred to Philip. He had allowed his foe artfully to destroy the letter that indirectly might have helped him. Still, there would be the telegraph and the mail, if necessary, before long.
“Why, I’ll knock your Saxton or Marcy rigmarole higher than a kite. I know what I am about. O, you are cool, Touchtone, but I am more than your master in this business, and I have right on my side all through.”
Right on his side? After all, how little did Philip know of the history of these Saxtons. But he reminded himself once more of the simple statements of Mr. Marcy and of Gerald, and of the cleverness of Belmont in acting a part. Besides, had the latter not betrayed himself with that promise to make Philip’s yielding “worth his while?”
“No,” he replied, determinedly, “you haven’t right on your side! You are trying to frighten me! Call up the whole ship! I dare you to bring things to the point. I don’t know,” he continued, raising his head and looking up at Belmont, “how well you may have planned to get me into trouble; but I know myself and Gerald, and I can soon prove all that I shall say. Get the captain—any body! I’ll answer all questions people may ask. Shall I go inside and wait? We may as well settle it now,” he added firmly, thinking again of the innocent sleeper in the state-room; “the only thing I have to ask is not to let him know any thing till the last minute.”
Thereupon Belmont drew in his breath with an oath. He was defied! Nevertheless, he seemed to have planned his attack strongly enough after all to hold fast by it against Philip’s straightforward story. Indeed, Philip even in cooler hours afterward never could decide exactly how far the man might have gone.
“As you please!” he exclaimed. “I will ask Captain Widgins and Mr. Arrowsmith, the mate, to meet us in the cabin. Stay—I give you one more choice! Make up your mind; it is your last chance. I don’t know why I think enough of the fraud you are, to wait a second longer. Will you give in and go ashore with the boy and me to-morrow at Martha’s Vineyard?”
Belmont may or may not have expected Philip to yield. But Philip was not called upon to utter the resolute “No, I will not!” that was upon his lips. Just as he opened them to speak, the awful shock and thrill of what each at once realized must be some tremendous explosion, far forward on the Old Province, made them reel and catch at one another and the rail for support. The sound was dull and choked, as if it came from the very depths of the great steam-ship. She seemed to stagger like a huge living creature that has all at once been mortally wounded. She ceased to move. Then came outcries, the rushing of feet, and the roar of escaping steam, mingled confusedly with the desolate scream of the fog-whistle. The latter sounded now like a cry of sudden agony, sent forth into the murk and the night.