“Just as you please,” concurred her father. “Perhaps Mr. Tremorne will be good enough to escort you there.”
“I have told you that I don’t want Mr. Tremorne, or Mr. Hemster, or Mr. Anybody-else. If I must have an escort I’ll take two of the sailors.”
“That will be perfectly satisfactory. Take as many trunks as you want, and secure the best rooms in the hotel.”
Shortly afterward Miss Hemster, with her maid and the Countess, left the yacht in the launch, the mountain of luggage following in another boat. The launch and the boat remained an unconscionably long time at the landing, until even Mr. Hemster became impatient, ordering the captain to signal their return. When, in response to this, they came back, the officer in charge of the launch told Mr. Hemster that his daughter had ordered them to remain until she sent them word whether or not she had secured rooms to her satisfaction at the hotel. Meanwhile she had given the officer a letter to her father, which he now handed to the old gentleman. He read it through two or three times with a puzzled expression on his face, then handed it to me, saying:
“What do you make of that?”
The letter ran as follows:
“Dear Poppa:
“I have changed my mind about the hotel, and, not wanting a fuss, said nothing to you before I left. As I told you, I am tired to death of both the yacht and the sea, and I want to get to some place where I need look on neither of them. The Countess, who knows more about Japan than Mr. Tremorne thinks he knows, has been kind enough to offer me her country house for a week or two, which is situated eight or nine miles from Nagasaki. I want to see something of high life in Japan, and so may stay perhaps for two weeks; and if you are really as anxious about my kidnapping as you pretend, you may be quite sure I am safe where I am going,—much more so than if I had stayed at the hotel at Nagasaki. I don’t believe there’s any danger at all, but think Mr. Tremorne wants to impress you with a feeling of his great usefulness, and you may tell him I said so if you like. Perhaps I shall tire of the place where I am going in two or three days; it is more than likely. Anyhow, I want to get away from present company for a time at least. I will send a message to you when I am returning.
“Yours affectionately,
“Gertie.”
This struck me as a most ungracious and heartless communication to a father who was devoting his life and fortune to her service. I glanced up at the old gentleman; but, although he had asked my opinion on this epistle, his face showed no perturbation regarding its contents. I suppose he was accustomed to the young woman’s vagaries.
The letter seemed to me very disquieting. It had been written on board the yacht before she left, so perhaps the country house visit had been in her mind for some time; nevertheless there were two or three circumstances which seemed to me suspicious. It was an extraordinary thing that a Countess should take what was practically a servant’s position if she possessed a country house. Then, again, it was no less extraordinary that this Japanese woman should be able to speak Corean, of which fact I had had auricular demonstration. Could it be possible that there was any connection between the engaging of this woman and the arrival of the Chinese steamer? Was the so-called Countess an emissary of the Corean Prime Minister? A moment’s reflection caused me to dismiss this conjecture as impossible, because Miss Hemster had engaged the Countess on the day she arrived at Nagasaki, and, as our yacht was more speedy than any other vessel that might have come from Corea, all idea of collusion between the Corean man and the Japanese woman seemed far fetched. Should I then communicate my doubts to Mr. Hemster? He seemed quite at his ease about the matter, and I did not wish to disturb him unnecessarily. Yet he had handed me the letter, and he wished my opinion on it. He interrupted my meditations by repeating his question:
“Well, what do you make of it?”