"I don't want him to know."
"But, you see, my duty to him as his legal adviser certainly demands that—"
"You're my legal adviser, too. Isn't my five dollars as good as his? Particularly when it really is his five dollars?"
"Well, then, my age is a confidential communication and—what do you call it?—privileged."
"Oh, wise young judge! But, fair Portia, don't let me perish of curiosity. Why?"
"My revenge isn't complete yet."
"Look out for the inner edge of that tool," he warned.
With the timepiece in his hand, Judge Enderby bearded the autocrat of the Clan Macgregor on his own deck to such good purpose that Miss Cecily Wayne presently learned of the end of her troubles so far as prospective incarceration went. The knowledge, preserved intact for her own uses, put in her hand a dire weapon for the discomfiture of the Tyro.
Thereafter the ship's company was treated to the shameful spectacle of a young man hunted, harried, and beset by a Diana of the decks; chevied out of comfortable chairs, flushed from odd nooks and corners, baited openly in saloon and reading-room, trailed as with the wile of the serpent along devious passageways and through crowded assemblages, hare to her hound, up and down, high and low, until he became a byword among his companions for the stricken eye of eternal watchfulness. Sometimes the persecutress stalked him, unarmed; anon she threatened with a five-dollar bill. Now she trailed in a deadly silence; again, when there were few to hear, she bayed softly upon the spoor, and ever in her eyes gleamed the wild light and wild laughter of the chase.