“He doesn’t talk in that way here,” said Armitage. “Perhaps he knows better.”
The officer shrugged his shoulders. “He is dangerous man. Why is he here, if not to join those fools of insurgents on the mainland?”
“I really can’t tell you,—unless because I asked him.”
“I sink I should do my duty in arresting him.”
“I think not. On board a British ship, in the waters of another nation? Hardly.”
“We are on patrol duty here.”
“But no blockade has been declared. No, really, I couldn’t allow it.” The officer looked from the boyish speaker and the dainty yacht to the frowning dark vessel a little way off, and smiled, only just perceptibly. “But look here,” Armitage went on, “I can’t answer for what’s in his mind, but I can promise that he shan’t go on shore unless I do. How’s that?”
“Zat is ol-right, if you will remember ze ladies, and not run into peril. You listen my advice, and make your cruise in less troubled waters, is it not so? But no, where zere is disturbance, zere also is a mad Englishman and his yacht. Well, beware of ze Roumis.”
“Thanks. We certainly will,” said Armitage.
“This is not the first time we have been thankful to adopt the aristocratic and high-sounding name of Smith,” said Zoe to Wylie, as they watched the friendly foreigner returning to his own vessel.