Brandon of the Engineers

When dinner was over, Dick sat by himself in a quiet spot on the liner's

quarter-deck. There was a tall, iron bulwark beside him, but close by

this was replaced by netted rails, through which he caught the pale

shimmer of the sea. The warm land-breeze had freshened and ripples

splashed against the vessel's side, while every now and then a languid

gurgle rose from about her waterline and the foam her plates threw off

was filled with phosphorescent flame. A string band was playing on the

poop, and passengers and guests moved through the intricate figures of a

Spanish dance on the broad deck below. Their poses were graceful and

their dress was picturesque, but Dick watched them listlessly.

He was not in a mood for dancing, for he had been working hard at the dam

and his thoughts were disturbed. Clare had refused him, and although he

did not accept her decision as final, he could see no way of taking her

out of her father's hands, while he had made no progress towards

unraveling the latter's plots. Kenwardine was not on board, but Dick had

only seen Clare at some distance off across the table in the saloon.

Moreover, he thought she must have taken some trouble to avoid meeting

him.

Then he remembered the speeches made by the visitors at dinner, and the

steamship officers' replies. The former, colored by French and Spanish

politeness and American wit, eulogized the power of the British navy and

the courage of her merchant captains. There was war, they said, but

British commerce went on without a check; goods shipped beneath the red

ensign would be delivered safe in spite of storm and strife; Britannia,

with trident poised, guarded the seas. For this the boldly-announced

sailing list served as text, but Dick, who made allowances for exuberant

Latin sentiment, noted the captain's response with some surprise.

His speech was flamboyant, and did not harmonize with the character of

the man, who had called at the port before in command of another ship. He

was gray-haired and generally reserved. Dick had not expected him to

indulge in cheap patriotism, but he called the British ensign the meteor

flag, defied its enemies, and declared that no hostile fleets could

prevent his employers carrying their engagements out. Since the man was

obviously sober, Dick supposed he was touting for business and wanted to

assure the merchants that the sailings of the company's steamers could be

relied upon. Still, this kind of thing was not good British form.

By and by Don Sebastian came down a ladder from the saloon deck with

Clare behind him. Dick felt tempted to retire but conquered the impulse

and the Spaniard came up.

"I have some business with the purser, who is waiting for me, but cannot

find my señora," he explained, and Dick, knowing that local conventions

forbade his leaving Clare alone, understood it as a request that he

should take care of her until the other's return.