Percival was white clear through. He was red-blooded, but at the same time his heart was clean. Once more he found himself contrasting the honest-eyed, pure-hearted Ruth with this sensual scoffer. There was no denying the physical appeal of the lithe, sinuous Russian; there was no gainsaying the call of the blood. On the other hand, the American girl stood for everything his own mother exemplified in flesh and spirit.
As it is with all men, he was absolutely incapable of associating passion with the mother who bore him, or with sisters who marry and give them nieces and nephews to adore. It was impossible, utterly impossible that they should have possessed the instincts of this woman beside him. But even as the thought raced through his mind he experienced the sudden, almost staggering realization that after all the chief, probably the only difference between his women and Olga Obosky was that they were good!
“Do you want me to tell you what I think of you?” he inquired, his eyes hardening.
“Yes,” she said calmly. “But not now. When you have more time, my friend. I shall be very much interested to hear what you think of me. In the meantime, I am troubled for you. You are in love with her,—oh, yes, you are,—and I am very much afraid zat you will lose her if you are not careful. I am your friend. Be warned in time, Mr. Percivail. She is sorry for him. Landover. You have humiliated him before all of us. He is the friend of her family. Go slow, my friend, or she will turn against you and you will lose her. You have still a good chance. She is more nearly in love with you than she suspects. A little good judgment on your part, my friend, and you will win. She will marry you, and when she have done so, zen you may with impunity toss Mr. Landover in the sea,—but not now, my friend, not now.”
“By Jove, you've got me guessing, Madame Obosky,” he exclaimed, frankly puzzled. “I can't make you out at all.”
She shrugged her shoulders.
“Zat is because I am a thousand years old and very, oh, so very wise, Mr. Percivail,” she returned, with a smile. “Au revoir!”
Percival went straight to Captain Trigger.
“See here, Captain,” he said at once, “I'm up against it with Landover. He refuses to take orders from me. I don't want to do anything drastic without consulting you. If you say I'm to let him off, that's the end of it so far as I'm concerned. Of course, I can't answer for the rest of the crowd. But if you say I am to go ahead along the line originally laid out, I'll do it.”
Captain Trigger's eyes, red from loss of sleep, pinched with anxiety, rested for a few seconds on the three boats coming across the basin. Then he turned to the young man.