So he stood, fawning before me, his voice almost a whisper in my ear.
What to make of it I knew not at all. Harry Avenhill, the young thief I
captured at Newmarket, had spoken of this dread figure, but always in
connection with Paris, or Vienna, or Rome. Yet here he was at Santa
Maria, his very presence tainting the air as with a chill breath of
menace and of death. My own rashness in coming to the island never
appeared so utterly to be condemned, so entirely without excuse. This
fearful old man might be deaf to every argument I had to offer. There
was no crime in all the story he had not committed or would not commit.
With General Fordibras I could have dealt—but with him!
“Yes,” I said quite calmly, “that is my yacht. She will start for
Gibraltar to-morrow if I do not return to her. It will depend upon my
friend, General Fordibras.”
I said it with what composure I could command—for this was all my
defence. His reply was a low laugh and a bony finger which touched my
hand as with a die of ice.
“It is a dangerous passage to Gibraltar, Dr. Fabos. Do not dwell too
much upon it. There are ships which never see the shore again. Yours
might be one of them.”
“_Unberufen._ The German language is your own. If my boat does not
return to Gibraltar, and thence to London, in that case, Herr Imroth,
you may have many ships at Santa Maria, and they will fly the white
ensign. Be good enough to credit me with some small share of prudence. I
could scarcely stand here as I do had I not measured the danger—and
provided against it. You were not then in my calculations. Believe me,
they are not to be destroyed even by your presence.”
Now, he listened to this with much interest and evident patience; and I
perceived instantly that it had not failed to make an impression upon
him. To be frank, I feared nothing from design, but only from accident,
and although I had him covered by my revolver, I never once came near to
touching the trigger of it. So mutually in accord, indeed, were our
thoughts that, when next he spoke, he might have been giving tongue to
my apprehensions:
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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