Criminals -- Fiction; Detective and mystery stories
"She has tricked me, father, just as she has hoodwinked you," she
answered, with self-assurance that astonished me. "And then she seemed
somehow to mesmerize me, to cast a sort of spell over me, so that I came
almost to love her, and to do almost everything she suggested. By
degrees she got me in her power, and then she began to make proposals
that alarmed me—and yet I was drawn to her still. Once or twice Mike
had warned me against her, but I had refused to believe his warnings. It
was only two days ago that the crisis came. She didn't ask me to do what
she wanted; she told me I _must_ do it—and then, all at once, the
scales seemed to fall from my eyes. At last her true nature was revealed
to me. It was an awful moment, father—awful!"
Far into the night the three of us remained talking. At last, when we
rose to separate, Albeury turned to me.
"I sleep with you in your cabin to-night, Mr. Berrington," he said
quietly. "And I have arranged that one of the stewardesses shall share
Miss Challoner's cabin. Nobody can tell what secret plans the members of
this gang may have made, and it's not safe, believe me it isn't, for
either of you to spend the night unprotected. Locks, sometimes even
bolts, form no barrier against these people, some of whom are almost
sure to be on board, though I haven't as yet identified any among the
passengers. You will remember that Lady Fitzgraham's cabin was ransacked
last week, though she was in it, and the door locked on the inside. And
poor Preston—we can't risk your sharing his fate."
These ominous warnings would assuredly have filled me with alarm, had
not Albeury's calmness and complete self-possession inspired me with a
strange confidence. Somehow it seemed to me that so long as he was near
no harm could befall either Dulcie or myself. Even Preston's presence
had never inspired such confidence as this clever and far-seeing
detective's presence had done ever since I had come to know him.
But nothing happened. When I woke next morning, after a night of sound
rest, the boat was steaming slowly into port.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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