"You are obstinate, señor, but I think your statement's rash," Don Ramon observed. "A British subject is governed by British laws, but we will not talk about this."
He paused and studied Shillito, who began to look disturbed. "One would sooner be polite and take the easy line," Don Ramon resumed. "So far this is possible, because you are not on the list sent our Government by the British police, but we have power to examine foreigners about whom we are not satisfied. Well, I doubt if you could satisfy us that you ought to remain, and when we begin to investigate, a demand for your extradition might arrive. If you forced us to inquire about you, a cablegram would soon reach London."
Shillito saw he was beaten and got up.
"I'll buy my ticket for Havana in the morning," he replied.
The Lopez liner was some days late, and in the meantime Lister haunted the office of the engineering company. At length the articles he needed were ready, and one afternoon Cartwright hired a boat to take him and Barbara across the harbor. Terrier lay with full steam up at the end of the long mole, and when her winch began to rattle, Cartwright told the Spanish peons to stop rowing. The tug's mooring ropes splashed, her propeller throbbed, and she swung away from the wall.
She was rusty and dingy; the screens along her bridge were cracked and burned by the sun. The boat at her rail was blackened by soot, and when she rolled the weed streamed down from her water-line. She looked very small and overloaded by the stack of coal on deck. The wash round her stern got whiter, ripples ran back from her bows, and when she steamed near Cartwright's boat, her whistle shrieked. Cartwright stood up and waved; Learmont, on the bridge, touched his cap, but for a few moments Barbara fixed her eyes on Terrier's deckhouse. Then she blushed and her heart beat, for she saw Lister at the door of the engine-room. He saw her and smiled.
The tug's whistle was drowned by a deeper blast. A big liner, painted black from water-line to funnel-top, was coming out, and Cartwright's boat lay between her and the tug. Barbara gave the great ship a careless glance and then started, for she read the name at the bow. This was the Havana boat.
Studying the groups of passengers at the rails, she thought she saw a face she knew. The face got distinct, and when the liner's lofty side towered above the boat, Shillito, looking down, lifted his cap and bowed with ironical politeness. Barbara turned her head and tried for calm while she watched the tug.
Lister had not gone. Barbara knew he would not go so long as he could see the boat, and standing up, with her hand on Cartwright's shoulder, she waved her handkerchief. Lister's hand went to his cap, but he was getting indistinct and Terrier had begun to plunge on the long swell outside the wall. She steered for open sea, the big black liner followed the coast, and presently Cartwright signed the men to pull. Then he looked at Barbara and smiled, for he knew she had seen Shillito.
"Things do sometimes happen like that!" he said. "I think the fellow has gone for good, but the other will come back."