“Well,” at length said the professor, “if you really think so, nothing in this world is easier than for us to change it. We can ascend into the atmosphere to any height we please, thus obtaining any desired temperature; we can, in a very few hours, reach any other country that you would care to visit; or, which is perhaps better than either, we can go out to sea and leisurely cruise about in any required direction, and in absolutely pure air.”
“Hear, hear!” exclaimed Mildmay, who, although chatting with Mlle. Feodorovna, had overheard the professor’s words. “There is no sanatorium like old ocean; no doctor like Father Neptune, believe me, Elphinstone. A week’s cruise somewhere away out there to the eastward would set the little darling up far more effectively than all the professor’s drugs. Try it, man; it can do no harm; and I’ll bet you a—a—well, let us say a peck of rubies, that you’ll not regret it.”
“Well, while declining your modest little bet, Mildmay, I really feel more than half inclined to act upon your suggestion,” answered Sir Reginald, with a laugh. “There is no particular reason why we should not, I fancy, beyond the fact that the professor wants to shoot one or two of those new zebras, and we can easily return here for that purpose. The fact is that I am beginning to tire a little of shore life, and I think a trip out to sea would do us all good. What do the rest say?”
“So far as I am concerned I will gladly go anywhere, or do anything, for Ida’s sake,” answered Lethbridge.
“Thanks, old chap; I know you will,” said Sir Reginald. “What say you, Colonel?”—to Sziszkinski—“would you like to go with us, or would you prefer to remain here until our return, and go in for shooting under the aegis of our friend Lobelalatutu?”
“Thank you very much, Sir Reginald, for offering me the choice,” answered the Russian. “I prefer to accompany you. I am quite of your own opinion, that a change will do us all good; and, like my friend, Monsieur Lethbridge, I will gladly go anywhere and do anything for the sake of the charming little Mademoiselle Ida.”
“And you, Mademoiselle?” asked Sir Reginald, turning to Mildmay’s companion.
“I?” she answered. “Oh, Monsieur Edouard—Sir Reginald, I mean—I am so happy on board this beautiful ship that I feel I shall never want to leave her. Please accept papa’s answer as mine also.”
“I am really very much obliged to you all for so cheerfully and readily falling in with my wishes,” said Sir Reginald. “Very well, then; it is settled that we go to sea for a week or two, as the mood takes us. Now, the next question is, Where shall we go? We certainly ought to have some definite objective, don’t you think? Does any one desire to go anywhere in particular?”
There was silence for a minute or two. Apparently no one wished to go anywhere in particular; or, if they did, they were not sufficiently eager to feel called upon to mention the fact.