"I want, sir," the latter commenced, "to apologise to you for my conduct last night." Mr. Sabin looked at him keenly. "There is no necessity for anything of the sort," he said. "If any apology is owing at all, it is, I think, to your wife." Mr. Watson shook his head vigorously. "No, sir," he declared, "I am ashamed to say that I am not very clear as to the actual expressions I made, but Mrs. Watson has assured me that my behaviour to you was discourteous in the extreme." "I hope you will think no more of it. I had already," Mr. Sabin said, "forgotten the circumstance. It is not of the slightest consequence." "You are very good," Mr. Watson said softly. "I had the pleasure," Mr. Sabin remarked, "of an interesting conversation with your wife last night. You are a very fortunate man." "I think so indeed, sir," Mr. Watson replied modestly. "American women," Mr. Sabin continued, looking meditatively out to sea, "are very fascinating." "I have always found them so," Mr. Watson agreed. "Mrs. Watson," Mr. Sabin said, "told me so much that was interesting about your wonderful country that I am looking forward to my visit more than ever." Mr. Watson darted a keen glance at his companion. He was suddenly on his guard. For the first time he realised something of the resources of this man with whom he had to deal. "My wife," he said, "knows really very little of her native country; she has lived nearly all her life abroad." "So I perceived," Mr. Sabin answered. "Shall we sit down a moment, Mr. Watson? One wearies so of this incessant promenading, and there is a little matter which I fancy that you and I might discuss with advantage." Mr. Watson obeyed in silence. This was a wonderful man with whom he had to deal. Already he felt that all the elaborate precautions of his coming had been wasted. He might be Mr. James B. Watson, the New York yacht owner and millionaire, to the captain and his seven passengers, but he was nothing of the sort to Mr. Sabin. He shrugged his shoulders, and followed him to a seat. After all silence was a safe card. "I'm going," Mr. Sabin said, "to be very frank with you. I know, of course, who you are." Mr. Watson shrugged his shoulders. "Do you?" he remarked dryly. Mr. Sabin bowed, with a faint smile at the corner of his lips. "Certainly," he answered, "you are Mr. James B. Watson of New York, and the lady with you is your wife. Now I want to tell you a little about myself." "Most interested, I'm sure," Mr. Watson murmured.