"It is a great annoyance to me if I must go on so trifling a matter," she said. She was pale and her manner was haughty. To Aronson it was something more. It bore every indication of conscious guilt. He had not foreseen resistance. The document, with Shagarach's name appended, he had thought would open caverns and cause walls to fall.
"There is the lady. She prefers not to go. I presume you will have to compel her. But I don't see that I can permit violence on board my ship."
The passengers seemed to gloat on Saul Aronson's discomfiture, and Shagarach's faithful courier was almost beside himself. In the distance lay the city, crowned with its gold dome, dwindling from sight. The lonely ocean roared around him. Capt. Perkins' tiny tug still hugged the larboard of her giant sister.
"It appears to me that paper's no good," said the second mate suddenly. He happened to be a little of a lawyer. "Let's have a look."
Aronson reluctantly saw the summons leave his hand.
"Suffolk county. This ain't Suffolk county," cried the mate, while the ring of passengers laughed.
"Shinny on your own side, youngster," he added, returning the paper.
"But it's America," cried Aronson.
"Just passed the three-mile limit," said the captain. He was an Englishman, the mate was an Englishman. They had no particular love for anything American, except the output of our national mints.
"I'm afraid the captain's right, young man," said a kind, elderly gentleman, who might be a lawyer recruiting his health by an ocean trip before the fall term opened. "You've got beyond your jurisdiction."