He was going through a few calisthenics, gingerly but with increasing

abandon, while he spoke.

"I feel fine, thank you. I am enjoying the situation extremely, too.

It's a delightful paradox, this situation. It's absurd, it's

enchanting, it's incredible! There is only one more thing that could

make it perfectly impossible. And I'm going to do it!" And he

deliberately encircled her waist and kissed her.

She turned white at that, and, as he released her, laughing, took a

step or two blindly, toward the door; stood there with one hand

against it as though supporting herself.

After a few moments, and very slowly, she turned and looked at him;

and that young man was scared for the first time since their encounter

in the locked house in Brookhollow.

Yet in her face there was no anger, no menace, nothing he had ever

before seen in any woman's face, nothing that he now comprehended.

Only, for the moment, it seemed to him that something terrible was

gazing at him out of this girl's fixed eyes--something that he did not

recognise as part of her--another being hidden within her, staring out

through her eyes at him.

"For heaven's sake, Scheherazade----" he faltered.

She opened the door, still watching him over her shoulder, shrank

through it, and was gone.

He stood for a full five minutes as though stupefied, then walked to

the door and flung it open. And met a ship's officer face to face,

already lifting his hand to knock for admittance.

"Mr. Neeland?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Captain West's compliments, and he would be glad to see you in his

cabin."

"Thank you. My compliments and thanks to Captain West, and I shall

call on him immediately."

They exchanged bows; the officer turned, hesitated, glanced at the

steward who stood by the port.

"Did you bring a radio message to Mr. Neeland?"

"Yes, sir."

"Yes, I received the message," said Neeland.

"The captain requests you to bring the message with you."

"With pleasure," said Neeland.

So the officer went away down the corridor, and Neeland sat down on

his bed, opened the box, went over carefully every item of its

contents, relocked it with a grin of satisfaction, and, taking it with

him, went off to pay a visit to the captain of the Volhynia.

The bearded gentleman in the stateroom across the passage had been

listening intently to the conversation, with his ear flat against his

keyhole.

And now, without hesitating, he went to a satchel which stood on the

sofa in his stateroom, opened it, took from it a large bundle of

papers and a ten-pound iron scale-weight.

Attaching the weight to the papers by means of a heavy strand of

copper wire, he mounted the sofa and hurled the weighted package into

the Atlantic Ocean.




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