‘My boad is on de zhore
And my barg is on de zea;
is not dat the voord of your boet? I come to make farevell to you, Miss Frankstein; to you, Miss Folledon, to lay at your veet dis hertz—mein hertz—vich is efer for dee so vondly beating.’
‘And are you really going to leave us, Count?’ asked Antonia, without any particular interest or otherwise in the noble foreigner, of whom she was becoming wearied and increasingly distrustful. Then happening to look at Harriet Folleton’s face, she saw that she was deathly pale, and trembled as if about to fall. The Count, too, though complimentary as usual, seemed annoyed and uneasy at her presence.
The Count, in answer to the question, pointed to his yacht, a beautiful schooner, more fair than honest of aspect, and of marvellous sailing powers, which had, perhaps, more than any of his reported possessions, tended to sustain his prestige since his arrival in Sydney.
Antonia’s practised eye at once discerned that she was fully equipped for sea. With sails ready to be unfurled at a moment’s notice, she could sweep out unchallenged and trackless as the falcon on her ensign, before the freshening south wind which was even now curling the waves with playful but increasing power.
With lightning rapidity she divined the full extent of the girl’s imprudence and the Count’s villainy. In the same sudden mental effort she resolved, at all hazards, to save her companion from the consequences of her inconceivable folly.
‘I did vorm de resolution dat I shall bezeegh you and Miss Folledon to honour me by paying me von last leetle visit on board de Valgon, dis afdernoon. Mine goot friend Paul, he was goming, but de business—dat pete noir—he brevent him. He ask me to peg Miss Frankstein if she vill, zo also Miss Folledon, vizout her fader, to my so-poor-yet-highly-to-be-honoured graft go. Dere is izes, one small collation, a few friend. Surely you will join dem?’
Here the Count beamed the irresistible smile which had through life served him well, and advancing, held out both hands to the young ladies.
‘Oh, do let us go!’ said the reassured weakling. ‘It would be so pleasant. It is such a delightful afternoon. I should like it of all things.’