“Hillo! what does this mean? Nothing very serious, I hope.”
He pressed the thumb of one hand upon the small red knob of the instrument, and with the other hand inserted the tube of it into his ear.
Almost instantly he heard his wife’s voice calling to him—
“Reginald! Reginald! are you there, and can you hear me?”
“Yes, dear, I am here; and can hear you quite distinctly,” answered Sir Reginald. “What is the matter? Nothing wrong with Barker, I hope. Is he any worse?”
“Worse!” echoed Lady Olivia’s voice, in accents of intense indignation. “There is nothing the matter with him—the wretch—except that he has stolen the Flying Fish, and is making off with her—and us.”
“What!” ejaculated Sir Reginald, in a tone of such profound consternation that those in the other boat heard him, and von Schalckenberg, sheering in close alongside, demanded to know what was wrong. Sir Reginald, still listening at his telephone, held up his hand for silence. Lady Olivia was still speaking.
“Yes, it is quite true,” she continued. “You had scarcely been gone an hour, this morning, when he suddenly presented himself in the music-room, where Feodorovna and I were sitting, and called Mlle. Sziszkinski out of the room. Suspecting nothing, the poor girl at once went, and a few minutes later he returned, alone, and, presenting a revolver at my head, ordered me to follow him, warning me at the same time that if I raised the slightest outcry of any kind, he would shoot me dead.”
“The scoundrel! The consummate blackguard!” ejaculated Sir Reginald through his set teeth. “Yes, dear; go on. I am listening,” he added.
“Of course I went; for there was nothing else to do,” continued Lady Olivia. “And he looked so fierce, so determined, in such deadly earnest, that I felt sure he would carry out his threat if I disobeyed him. He led me up to the pilot-house; and there I found poor little Ida—whom I had believed to be out on deck, playing or reading—bound hand and foot, with a gag in her mouth.”