“Poor Ellen!” murmured the Captain; “where is she now?”
“Perhaps this wretch has abandoned her, or why should she not be on board?” said Corsican, looking at me.
HE MADE AN ANGRY GESTURE WHICH I ARRESTED.
This idea crossed my mind for the first time, but I rejected it. No; Ellen was not, could not be on board; she could not have escaped Dr. Pitferge’s inquisitive eye. No! she cannot have accompanied Drake on this voyage!
“May what you say be true, sir!” replied Captain Corsican; “for the sight of that poor victim reduced to so much misery would be a terrible blow to Fabian: I do not know what would happen, for Fabian is a man who would kill Drake like a dog. I ask you, as a proof of your friendship, never to lose sight of him; so that if anything should happen, one of us may be near, to throw ourselves between him and his enemy. You understand a duel must not take place between these two men. Alas! neither here nor elsewhere. A woman cannot marry her husband’s murderer, however unworthy that husband may have been.”
I well understood Captain Corsican’s reason. Fabian could not be his own justiciary. It was foreseeing, from a distance, coming events, but how is it that the uncertainty of human things is so little taken into account? A presentiment was boding in my mind. Could it be possible, that in this common life on board, in this every-day mingling together, that Drake’s noisy personality could remain unnoticed by Fabian? An accident, a trifle, a mere name uttered, would it not bring them face to face? Ah! how I longed to hasten the speed of the steamer which carried them both! Before leaving Captain Corsican I promised to keep a watch on our friend, and to observe Drake, whom on his part he engaged not to lose sight of; then he shook my hand, and we parted.
Towards evening a dense mist swept over the ocean, and the darkness was intense. The brilliantly-lighted saloons contrasted singularly with the blackness of the night. Waltzes and ballad songs followed each other; all received with frantic applause, and even hurrahs were not wanting, when the actor from T——, sitting at the piano, bawled his songs with the self-possession of a strolling player.
CHAPTER XIII.
The next day, the 31st of March, was Sunday. How would this day be kept on board? Would it be the English or American Sunday, which closes the “bars” and the “taps” during service hours; which withholds the butcher’s hand from his victim; which keeps the baker’s shovel from the oven; which causes a suspension of business; extinguishes the fires of the manufactories; which closes the shops, opens the churches, and moderates the speed of the railway trains, contrary to the customs in France? Yes, it must be kept thus, or almost thus.