The two Japanese bowed blandly, and spoke a few words together in soft undertones and gutterals, as incomprehensible to a Western ear as the language of the Ojibways. Then they bowed again, smiled and said "Thank you, sir," and moved away. The Russian officer watched them sharply until they disappeared around the bows of the vessel, muttering to himself under his bushy moustache.
Once out of sight the languor and mild indifference of the strangers vanished. They spoke swiftly, with excited, but graceful gestures. Then one of them pointed to the snowy curve of the battleship's prow, above their heads. There, gleaming in the sunset light, shone the word, in gold letters,
[Cyrillic: RETVIZAN]
"Retvizan," murmured the other; "Retvizan." Adding in his own language, "She will have her trial trip late in October, sailing from Boston. Then—we shall see!"
"We shall see."
"Sayonara, Retvizan!" said the first speaker with just a trace of mockery in his tone, as the two turned toward the gate. As they passed through, on their way out, they bowed and smiled to the gate-keeper. Once more they were suave, languid little gentlemen of fashion, travelling for pleasure.
It was eight o'clock on the morning of October 21st when the last tug-load of "distinguished visitors" scrambled up the steep ladder to the deck of the Retvizan, which had lain all night in President's Roads, Boston Harbour, waiting for her trial trip. In five minutes more the battleship was under way, the smoke rolling from her three huge funnels as she forged ahead slowly, on her way to the open sea.
It was an oddly composed crowd that gathered forward of the great turret from which projected two twelve-inch guns. The crew consisted of Russian "Jackies," in man-of-war rig; but the spectators were the invited guests of the builders from whose control the ship had not yet passed. There were lawyers, naval officers, engineers, and politicians, with one or two officials of the city and State government—all bound to have a good time, whether the Retvizan should prove slow or fast. They buttoned their overcoats up around their throats—for the day was chilly, and the draught made by the vessel as she gathered speed was sharp—and in little knots, here and there, joked, laughed, and sang like boys on a lark.