Shortly after the launch entered the lagoon, the Danish boat hove her

anchor and steamed out to sea. Dick, who had engaged a half-breed pilot

to take the launch home, lounged in a canvas chair under the poop awning.

His eyes were half closed, for the white boats and deckhouses flashed

dazzlingly in the strong light as the steamer lurched across the vivid

swell of the Caribbean. The cigarette he languidly held had gone out, and

his pose was slack.

He was physically tired and his brain was dull, but he was conscious of

lethargic satisfaction. For a long time he had been torn between his love

for Clare and his duty to his country. His difficulties were further

complicated by doubts of Kenwardine's guilt, but recent events had

cleared these up. It was, on the whole, a relief to feel that he must now

go forward and there need be no more hesitation and balancing of

probabilities. The time for that had gone and his course was plain. He

must confront Kenwardine with a concise statement of his share in the

plot and force from him an undertaking that he would abandon his

traitorous work.

This might be difficult, but Dick did not think he would fail. Don

Sebastian, who perhaps knew more than he did, was to meet him at a Cuban

port, and the Spaniard could be trusted to handle the matter with skill.

There was no direct communication between Santa Brigida and Kingston, but

steamers touched at the latter place when making a round of other ports,

which would enable Dick and his ally to join Kenwardine's boat at her

last call. If either of them had gone on board at Santa Brigida,

Kenwardine would have left the ship at the next port.

Since he had sailed on an English steamer, bound for British territory,

he would be subject to British law when they met, and they could, if

needful, have him arrested. Dick admitted that this ought to be done to

begin with, but had not decided about it yet. He would wait and be guided

by events. The British officials might doubt his story and decline to

interfere, but Kenwardine could not count on that, because Don Sebastian

was armed with credentials from the President of a friendly state.

Dick, however, dismissed the matter. He was tired in mind and body, and

did not mean to think of anything important until he met Kenwardine. By

and by his head grew heavy, and resting it on the back of his chair, he

closed his eyes. When Jake came up, followed by a steward carrying two

tall glasses of frothing liquor, he saw that his comrade was fast asleep.

"You can put them down," he told the steward. "I'm thirsty enough to

empty both, but you can bring some more along when my partner wakes."




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