“Yes, certainly.”
“And now that you know all that is necessary for you to know at present, it will be best for you to go to sleep again, my dear Mr. Wynne. Later, when you are quite recovered, we will, if you wish it, discuss further.”
She was surprised at the indifference of her tone. She might have been holding forth on the details of some approaching festivity, so natural did it sound.
“But,” objected Preston, “I am not a bit sleepy, Madame de Salvières, and if it is not asking too much of you, would you—would you tell me—more?”
“What more can I tell you?” she said, trying desperately to keep on playing her impossible rôle. “Wrecks are wrecks, disagreeable moments to be gone through, of course, with casualties sometimes, and unpleasantness in any case. Some of the crew were drowned last night, as you may easily imagine, and we heard from the first mate that you conducted yourself with extreme bravery, so all is for the best in this best of worlds.”
“Drowned!” he exclaimed. “Drowned! It is not a very nice way to make one’s exit. They were good fellows, those sailors of the Wild Rose. I am sorry. The captain?” he inquired, with a swift widening of the eyes. “Braines, I mean—Captain Braines—was he saved?”
“I am afraid not—at least he has not reappeared; but, really, you must listen to me now, and postpone the rest of the inquiry, Mr. Wynne. I cannot allow you to agitate yourself after the knocking about you had. I cannot, really!”
There was a hurried note in her words, a haste to finish that his swiftly awakening faculties did not miss; also he noticed, with that keenness of perception which sometimes follows a profound nervous shock, that the great gems on her fingers sparkled oddly, a quivering sparkle that denoted a tremor of hands held still by sheer will-power, and in a second his mind was made up.
“Madame de Salvières,” he said, resolutely, “you are awfully kind to spare me, but I feel that there are things I ought to know—that, to express myself more clearly, I deserve to know. Give me a little more of that cordial and tell me all, please! I am not a child; I feel perfectly normal, I give you my honor, save for that queer numbness I told you of, and I ask you to be truly merciful and not to keep me in suspense.”
Without a word Tatiana rose, reached for the restorative, and when this had been obediently swallowed to the last drop made him take a cup of cold, strong bouillon; then she sat down again.