Again Captain Beven's accommodating sneeze sounded like a trumpet through the vessel.
It was the last call—the little party was in the act of leaving the cabin—he had exhausted all his resources in the endeavor to hold them back a while longer.
Roderic was hardly in a condition to carry out his part of the programme, nor did he care very much, now that his secret had been juggled with, and the truth must be made known to all.
First Jerome should be attended to.
His ardor had really run away with his usual discretion—it must be cooled off, and Roderic for one knew a means of accomplishing the same.
Time was a factor in his calculations also, since at any moment General Porfidio and the others were apt to appear on the scene.
The little De Brabant had ceased uttering confused prayers to the Virgin for her lover's safety, since he had thus speedily reduced the blustering hero to a state of "innocuous desuetude"—she was now more deeply concerned in the manner whereby the said Senor Roderic was to free himself from the incubus that held on with such a tenacious grip.
"Drop him over the rail, amigo—a bath, give the handsome Adonis a bath—it will surely be good for his complexion. The rail Senor Roderic—it is close at your hand and so convenient. Besides, better such a soft fall than broken bones on the lower deck!"
Thus she cried in her excitement, modulating her voice until it was hardly more than a tense whisper.
And Owen knew it was not so much resentment against Jerome for his persistent attentions as the eager desire to serve the man she adored, that actuated her course.