“But what are you driving at?” gasped Clement. “First you tell me to get her to marry me, then you tell me she is going to marry some one else.”
“Perfectly true,” said the little man. “She is making this journey to Canada to marry some one else, a man named Henry Gunning.”
Clement fell back, too, staggered for thought. “Are you a lawyer,” he demanded, “or are you an apostle of the Mormons?”
The little lawyer rushed over to Clement and caught him by the lapel of his coat. “No! no! no!” he cried. “Please do understand. It is this hurry that has made everything so complicated. She is going to Canada to marry Henry Gunning. But she must not marry him. She must be prevented. That’s what I want you to do. I want you to make her marry you in order that she won’t marry Gunning.”
“And why shouldn’t she marry the man she wants to?” Clement demanded.
“Because,” said the lawyer, speaking earnestly and impressively, “because it’s a swindle. She’s got into the hands of rogues, of swindlers, of criminals. Of that I am sure. The whole thing is terribly evil. And she must be saved. You must save her.”
Clement was about to answer. There was a knock on the cabin door. Clement called, “Come in.”
The door opened about a foot. An evil and repulsive face looked in. The little eyes in the ugly face swiveled all round the cabin in a swift, furtive glance. They took in Clement; they took in the little lawyer. A palish tongue licked purple, dry lips. A husky voice croaked, “Beg pardin, sir!”
The little lawyer snapped, “What do you want, man?”
“Beg pardin,” said the hoarse voice again. “Just looking round ter see if all visitors is ashore. Bedroom steward, sir.”