This man was, as Ruthine had said, dangerous. He was too calm. There was something grand and terrifying in that white heat which burned in his eyes and drove the blood from his lips.
Seymour Michael came forward with his pleasant smile, waving his hand in greeting to Jem and to Ruthine, whom he knew.
Jem shook hands with him.
“I'm all right, thanks,” he said curtly, in answer to Seymour Michael's inquiry.
“Good business—good business,” exclaimed the General, who seemed somewhat unnecessarily excited.
“Old Mark Ruthine too!” he went on. “You look as fit as ever. Still turning your thousands out of the British public—eh!”
“Yes,” said Ruthine, “thank you.”
“Just run ashore for half an hour, I suppose?” continued Seymour Michael, looking hurriedly out towards the Mahanaddy.
“No,” replied Ruthine, “I leave the ship here.”
The small man glanced from the face of one to the other with something sly and uneasy in his eyes.