So earnest was his tone, so serious his manner, that Myra felt her
heart contract, but she forced herself to treat his speech as a joke.
"Don Carlos, you are an impossible person!" she exclaimed. "Do you
want me to rush away and warn Tony that his life is in danger? Shall I
ask the captain to order two of the crew to play the part of Scotland
Yard detectives, shadow your every movement and keep guard over Tony?
You don't really expect me to take you seriously, do you?"
Before Don Carlos could answer, Tony, together with two or three other
members of the party, came up the companion-way.
"Hallo, people, what are you looking so solemn about?" cried Tony
cheerily. "Not feeling sea-sick, are you, what?"
"Good morning, darling, so glad you've come," said Myra, and tilted up
her face for a kiss. She seldom greeted her betrothed with a kiss if
there were others present, but she guessed the display of affection
might annoy Don Carlos. "This dreadful man has been trying to make my
blood run cold," she added smilingly, with a challenging glance at Don
Carlos. "I think he must have spent most of his time in Paris at the
Grand Guignol, and it has turned his brain. I'm afraid he is suffering
from some sort of homicidal mania, poor fellow."
"I warn you, good people, and you, mine host in particular, that I am
in a murderous mood," said Don Carlos gaily. "Miss Rostrevor has
driven me insane, and I may go Berserker at any moment."
"Splendid, old chap!" laughed Tony. "What about attacking the
breakfast with savage fury? There goes the gong...."
It was a beautifully calm day, and after breakfast most of the company
assembled on the promenade deck, some to lounge and smoke and chat or
read, others to play quoits or deck billiards.
For once in a way Myra did not feel particularly energetic, and she sat
down on a comfortable deck chair beside her aunt and several other
women and girls seated in a group gossiping and exchanging badinage
with two or three men of the party standing by their chairs or lounging
against the rail.
Tony Standish and Don Carlos were standing together, both leaning
against the rail, and Myra lay back in her chair with her hands clasped
behind her head, studying and comparing them through half-closed but
keenly-observant eyes.
She noticed that as Don Carlos talked and laughed he was fingering a
bolt under the rail behind him, saw him slide the bolt back, and she
was in the act of sitting up and calling out to him to be careful, to
point out that the part of the rail against which he and Tony were
leaning was that which is swung open to make way for a gangway, when
Don Carlos straightened himself and took a pace forward.