"Stole it from the plate basket," said Mrs. Pellypop, whose idea of stilettos was vague.
"It was not a table knife," began Ronald, then broke off suddenly as he saw Miss Cotoner move away with a tall, slender, dark man. "I say, Mrs. Pellypop, who's that?"
"Whom?" asked Mrs. Pellypop, putting up her glasses. "Oh, the girl from Malta?"
"No not Miss Cotoner, I know who she is; but the fellow?"
"Oh, her cousin, the Marchese Vassalla," answered Mrs. Pellypop; "not that I care much for foreign titles myself, but he looks a gentleman."
And, as a matter of fact, he was by no means ill-looking, but when Ronald saw him he instantly took a dislike to him. Why, he did not know, unless it was on the Dr. Fell principle; it might have been instinct, perhaps prejudice; but the fact remained nevertheless--he did not like Matteo Vassalla. A handsome face certainly, with swarthy skin, brilliant, black eyes, and a coal black beard carefully trimmed. In his slender, sinewy figure there was something of the lithe grace of a panther; and what with the graceful movements of his hands, and the deferential manner with which he bent towards Miss Cotoner, he decidedly did not impress Monteith favourably.
But the lady--well, she has been described before, and as Ronald looked at her he only found new perfections. She had rather a sad expression on her face, and her head was a little bent down, but, for the rest, she was as straight and graceful as Artemis. Ronald, who had stoutly resisted all the blandishments of the pretty girls on board, caught one glance of those brilliantly black eyes and surrendered at once. He also caught the glance of another pair of eyes which did not regard him in such a friendly manner, and drew himself up haughtily as he left Mrs. Pellypop, and went down to the saloon.
"What the deuce did that foreign cad mean by staring at me like that;" he muttered, quite forgetting that the cad in question had a title, and was of higher rank than himself; "I don't suppose he has anything to do with her; perhaps they are engaged--hang it, it's impossible, she'd never throw herself away on a thing like that. I'll ask old mother Pellypop to-morrow, she'll be sure to know all about her in that time."
Having thus, in his own mind, satisfactorily settled the affair, Ronald went down to his cabin to dress for dinner.
Meanwhile Miss Cotoner and her cousin were having a few words on the subject of Mr. Monteith.