Browne scarcely knew what to say in reply. He knew that every person he added to the party meant an additional danger to all concerned; and he felt that, in common justice to Maas, he could not take him without giving him some hint of what he was about to do. Maas noticed his hesitation; and, thinking it betokened acquiescence to his plan, was quick to take advantage of it.
"My dear fellow," he said, "if I am causing you the least inconvenience, I beg of you not to give it a second thought. I should not have spoken to you at all on the subject had you not said what you did to me in Paris."
After this speech Browne felt that he had no opening left, save to declare that nothing would give him greater pleasure than to have the other's society upon the voyage.
"And you are quite sure that I shall not be in the way?" Maas inquired.
"In the way?" Browne replied. "Not at all; I have only Jimmy Foote going with me. We shall be a snug little party."
"It's awfully good of you," said Maas; "and I'm sure I don't know how to thank you. When do you propose to sail?"
"On Monday next from Southampton," answered Browne. "I will see that you have a proper notice, and I will also let you know by what train we shall go down. Your heavier baggage had better go on ahead."
"You are kindness itself," said Maas. "By the way, since we have come to this arrangement, why should we not have a little dinner to-night at my rooms as a send off? I'll find Foote and get him to come, and we'll drink a toast to the Land of the Rising Sun."
"Many thanks," said Browne, "but I'm very much afraid it's quite out of the question. I leave for Paris this afternoon, and shall not be back until Saturday at earliest."
"What a pity!" said Maas. "Never mind; if we can't celebrate the occasion on this side of the world, we will do so on the other. You are turning off here? Well, good-bye, and many, many thanks to you. You cannot imagine how grateful I feel to you, and what a weight you have taken off my mind."