Had a bombshell fallen through the skylight of the saloon and settled itself in the centre of the table, it could scarcely have caused greater consternation than did Maas’s simple remark. Browne felt that his face was visibly paling, and that guilt must be written on every inch of it. As for Jimmy, his mouth opened and shut like that of an expiring fish. He could scarcely believe he had heard aright. He had certainly once in an idle moment joked in the fashion Maas had attributed to him; but what had induced the latter to remember and to bring it up now, of all times, when their nerves were so tightly stretched? Maas’s face, however, was all innocence. He seemed not to have noticed the amazement he had caused, but ate his caviare with the air of a man who had said something worthy, the point of which had fallen a trifle flat. It was not until the meal was over, and they had ascended to the deck once more, that Browne found an opportunity of having a few words with Jimmy.
“What on earth did he mean by that?” he asked. “Do you think he can have heard anything? Or do you think he only suspects?”
“Neither,” said Jimmy. “I’ll tell you what I think it was; it was a perfectly simple remark, which by sheer ill-luck just happened to touch us in the wrong place. It was, as the shooters say, an unintentional bull’s-eye. But, by Jove! I must confess that it made me feel pretty bad at the moment.”
“Then you think we need not attach any importance to it?”
“I’m quite sure we need not,” his friend replied. “Look at it in this way: if the man had known anything he most certainly would not have said anything about it. If we had suspected him of knowing our secret, and had put ourselves out in order to bring him to the point, and he had kept silence, then we might have thought otherwise; as it is, I am positive we need not be afraid.”
As if to reassure them, Maas said nothing further on the subject. He was full of good-humour, absorbed the sunshine like a Neapolitan, and seemed to enjoy every hour he lived. He also did his best to make the others do likewise. He talked upon every conceivable subject, and did not feel in the least annoyed when the others appeared occupied. They passed Plymouth soon after twelve next day, and said good-bye to Old England shortly afterwards. How little those on board guessed what was to happen before they could see her shores again? Five days later they were at Gibraltar, anchored in the harbour beneath the shadow of the batteries. Though he grudged every minute, and though he had seen the Rock a dozen times before, Browne accompanied them ashore, explored the Galleries, and lunched at the Officers’ Mess.
“What rum beggars we are, to be sure!” said young Bramthwaite, of the 43rd Midlandshire, to Browne, as they lit their cigars afterwards. “Here are you, posting off for the East, and as anxious as you can be to turn your back on Old England; while I, poor beggar, am quartered here, and am longing to get home with all my might and main. Do you think, if I had your chance, I would go abroad? Not I.”
“Circumstances alter cases,” returned Browne. “If you were in my place you would want to be out of England. You should just have seen London as we left. Fogs, sleet, snow, drizzle, day after day, while here you are wrapped in continual sunshine. I don’t see that you have much to grumble at.”
“Don’t you?” said his friend. “Well, I do. Let us take my own case again. I am just up from a baddish attack of Rock-fever. I feel as weak as a cat — not fit for anything. And what good does it do me? I don’t even have the luck to be properly ill, so that I could compel them to invalid me. And, to make matters worse, my brother writes that they are having the most ripping hunting in the shires; from his letters I gather that the pheasants have never been better; and, with it all, here I am, like the Johnny in the heathen mythology, chained to this rock, and unable to get away.”
Browne consoled him to the best of his ability, and shortly afterwards collected his party and returned to the yacht. The work of coaling was completed, and Captain Mason, who resembled a badly blacked Christy Minstrel, was ready to start as soon as his owner desired. Browne, nothing loath, gave the order, and accordingly they steamed out of the harbour, past the Rock, and were in blue seas once more. They would not touch anywhere again until they reached Port Said.
That night on deck Browne was lamenting the fact that the yacht did not travel faster than she did.
“My dear fellow,” said Maas, “what a hurry you are in, to be sure! Why, this is simply delightful. What more could you wish for? You have a beautiful vessel, your cook is a genius, and your wines are perfect. If I had your money, do you know what I would do? I would sail up and down the Mediterranean at this time of the year for months on end.”
“I don’t think you would,” replied Browne. “In the meantime, what I want is to get to Japan.”
“I presume your fiancée is to meet you there?” said Maas. “I can quite understand your haste now.”
There was a silence for a few moments, and then Maas added, as if the idea had just struck him: “By the way, you have never told me her name.”
“Her name is Petrovitch,” answered Browne softly, as if the name were too precious to be breathed aloud. “I do not think you have ever met her.”
“Now I come to think of it, I believe I have,” Maas responded. “At least, I am not acquainted with her personally, but I have met some one who knows her fairly well.”
“Indeed!” said Browne, in some astonishment. “And who might that some one be?”
“You need not be jealous, my dear fellow,” Maas continued. “My friend was a lady, a Miss Corniquet, a French artist. Miss Petrovitch, I believe, exhibited in the Salon last year, and they met shortly afterwards. I remember that she informed me that the young lady in question showed remarkable talent. I am sure, Browne, I congratulate you heartily.”
“Many thanks,” remarked the other; and so the matter dropped for the time being.
Port Said and the work of coaling being things of the past, they proceeded through the Suez Canal and down the Red Sea; coaled once more at Aden, and later on at Colombo. By the time they reached Singapore, Browne’s impatience could scarcely be controlled. With every day an increased nervousness came over him. At last they were only a few hours’ steam from Hong-kong. It was there that Browne was to interview the famous Johann Schmidt, of whom Herr Sauber had spoken to him in Paris. What the result of that interview would be he could only conjecture. He wanted to get it over in order that he might have his plans cut and dried by the time they reached Japan, where Katharine and Madame Bernstein must now be. If all went well, he would soon join them there.
At ten o’clock on a lovely morning they entered the Ly-ee-moon Pass, steamed past Green Island, and at length they came in sight of the crowded harbour of Victoria. Once at anchor, the steam-launch was slung overboard and brought alongside, Browne and his friends took their places in her, and she forthwith made her way to the shore. None of the men had seen the wonderful city, they were now visiting............