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  CHAPTER XXIV

  That afternoon they boarded the yacht, and Katherine renewed heracquaintance with Jimmy Foote. Maas was also introduced to her, andpaid her the usual compliments upon her engagement. Later she exploredthe yacht from stem to stern, expressing her delight at thecompleteness of every detail. The pleasure she derived from it,however, was as nothing compared with that of her lover, who never forone instant left her side.

  "Some day," he said, as they stood together upon the bridge, looking atthe harbour and watching the variety of shipping around them, "thisvessel will be your own property. You will have to invite whoever youlike to stay on board her with you. Do you think you will ever let mecome?" He looked into her face, expecting to find a smile there; but,to his astonishment, he discovered that her eyes were filled withtears. "Why, my darling," he cried, "what does this mean? What is thereason of these tears?"

  She brushed them hastily away, and tried to appear unconcerned. "I wasthinking of all your goodness to me," she replied. "Oh, Jack! I don'tknow how I can ever repay it."

  "I don't want you to repay it," he retorted. "You have done enoughalready. Have you not honoured me, dear, above all living men? Areyou not going to be my wife?"

  "That is no return," she answered, shaking her head. "If you give astarving man food, do you think it kind of him to eat it? I hadnothing, and you are giving me all. Does the fact that I take it helpme to repay it?"

  What he said in reply to this does not come within the scope of achronicler's duty to record. Let it suffice that, when he went belowwith her, he might very well have been described as the happiest man inJapan. The history of the following fortnight could be easily writtenin two words, "love and pleasure." From morning till night they weretogether, seeing everything, exploring the temples, the countrytea-houses, spending small fortunes with the curio dealers, andlearning to love each other more and more every day. In fact, therewas only one cloud in their sky, and that was the question of what wasto be done with Maas. Up to that time, that gentleman had shown nosort of inclination to separate himself from the party. Browne couldnot very well ask him to leave, and yet he had the best of reasons fornot wanting him to go on with them. What was to be done? He worriedhimself almost into a fever to know what he should do. Then, almost atthe last minute, Maas settled the question for them, not in analtogether unexpected fashion. Finding his host alone in the verandahof the hotel one evening, he asked outright, without pretence ofbeating about the bush, whether he might, as an old friend, continue toburden them with his society. Browne found himself placed in a mostawkward position. Though he did not want him, he had known Maas for somany years, and they had always been on such a footing of intimacytogether, that he felt he could do nothing but consent. He accordinglydid so, though with scarcely the same amount of grace, that usuallycharacterized his hospitality. Jimmy Foote, however, expressed himselfmore freely.

  "Look here, Jack, old man," said the latter to Browne, when he wasinformed what had taken place, "you know as well as I do that Maas andI were never the greatest of friends. I tell you this because I don'twant you to think I am saying, behind his back, what I would not say tohis face. At the same time, I _do_ think that you ought to have toldhim straight out that he couldn't come."

  "How on earth could I do that?" asked Browne. "Besides beingexceedingly rude, it would have given the whole show away. Whatpossible sort of excuse could I have made for not wanting him on board?"

  "I don't know what sort of excuse you could have made," replied Jimmy;"all I know is that you ought to have made it. You have other peoplebesides yourself to consider in the matter."

  The deed was done, however, and could not be undone. For this reason,when the yacht said good-bye to the lovely harbour of Yokohama, andTreaty Point was astern, Maas stood upon the deck watching it fade awayand drop below the sea-line.

  "And now that we are on our way again, my dear Browne," said Maas whenthe others had gone below, "what is our destination?"

  "Of our ultimate destination I am not yet quite certain," answeredBrowne, who was anxious to gain time to think before he committedhimself. "But at first we are going north to have a look at the Sea ofOkhotsk. My _fiancee's_ father has been residing on an island therefor many years, and it is our intention to pick him up and to bring himhome, in order that he may be present at our wedding."

  "In other words," put in Maas, "you are conniving at the escape of aRussian convict from Saghalien. Is that so?"

  Browne uttered a cry that was partly one of astonishment, and partlyone of terror. He could scarcely believe he had heard aright. Thiswas the second time, since they had been on board the yacht, that Maashad played him this sort of trick, and he did not want to be taken inagain. Was the other really aware of what they were going to do, orwas this, as on the previous occasion, a shot fired at random?

  "My dear fellow," he began, as unconcernedly as his excitement wouldpermit, "what on earth do you mean? Help a Russian convict to escape?Surely you must have taken leave of your senses."

  "Look here," said Maas with unusual emphasis, "what is the use of yourattempting to keep a secret? Nature never intended you for aconspirator. You may not have guessed it, but I have seen for someconsiderable time past, long before we left Europe in fact, that therewas trouble in the wind. Otherwise, why do you think I should haveaccompanied you to the East, so many thousand weary miles from Parisand civilization?"

  "Because your health was bad," Browne replied. "At least, that is whatyou said yourself. Was that not so?"

  "My health is as good as your own," the other answered. "No, Browne, Iinvented that excuse because I wanted to come with you; because I hadsome sort of notion of what you were about to do."

  "But, even supposing it should be so, how could you have known it?"

  "I will tell you. Do you remember the night at the Amphitryon Clubwhen you told me that you were thinking of taking a trip to the FartherEast?"

  Browne admitted that he did remember it.

  "Well, I happened to know who the lady was to whom you were paying suchmarked attention. I happened to mention her name one day to an oldfriend, who immediately replied, 'I know the young lady in question;she is the daughter of the famous Polowski, the Nihilist, who was sentto Siberia, and who is now confined upon the island of Saghalien.'Then you spoke of your yachting voyage to the Farther East, and I puttwo and two together, and resolved that, happen what might, I would seeyou through the business. You see how candid I am with you."

  "And do you mean to say that you knew all the time what I was going todo?"

  "All the time," said Maas. "Did not I give you a hint at breakfast onthe morning following our joining the yacht at Southampton? I am yourfriend, Browne; and, as your friend, I want to be allowed to stand byyou in your hour of danger. For it is dangerous work you are engagedupon, as I suppose you know."

  "And do you really mean that you are going to help me to get this manout of his place of captivity?" inquired Browne, putting on one sidethe other's reference to their friendship.

  "If you are going to do it, I'm certainly going to stand by you," Maasreplied. "That's why I am here."

  "And all the time I was wishing you at Hanover, because I thought, thatif you knew, you would disapprove."

  "It only goes to show how little we know our true friends," continuedMaas. "If you feel that you can trust me now, do not let us have anymore half-measures. Let me be with you hand and glove, or put meashore somewhere, and get me out of the way. I don't want to pushmyself in where I am not wanted."

  Browne was genuinely touched. "My dear old fellow," he answered,putting his hand on Maas's shoulder, "I must confess I feel as if I hadtreated you very badly. If you are really disposed to help me, I shallbe only too glad of your assistance. It's a big job, and a hideouslyrisky one. I don't know what on earth I shall do if we fail."

  Then, in the innocence of his heart, Browne told him as much of theirarrangements as he had
revealed to Jimmy Foote. Maas expressed hissympathy, and forthwith propounded several schemes for getting theunhappy man to a place of safety, when they had got him on board theyacht. He went so far as to offer to land on the island, and to makehis way into the interior in the hope of being able to render someassistance should it be necessary.

  "Well, you know your own business best," said Jimmy Foote to Browne,when the latter had informed him of the discovery he had made. "But Ican't say that I altogether like the arrangement. If he had guessedour secret, why didn't he let us know that he knew it? It seems to methat there is a little bit of underhand work somewhere."

  "I think you are misjudging him," returned Browne; "upon my word I do.Of one thing there can be no sort of doubt, and that is, that whateverhe may have known, he is most anxious to help."

  "Is he?" exclaimed Jimmy, in a tone that showed that he was still morethan a little sceptical concerning Maas's good intentions. "I don'tset up to be much of a prophet; but I am willing to go so far as tooffer to lay a hundred pounds to a halfpenny, that we shall find he hasbeen hoodwinking us somewhere before we've done."

  Jimmy spoke with such unusual gravity that Browne looked at him insurprise. "Oh, you may look," answered Jimmy; "but you won't stareaway what I think. Browne, old man," he continued, "you and I were atschool together; we have been pals for a very long time; and I'm notgoing to see you, just when you're booked to settle down happily withyour wife, and become a respectable member of society, upset and spoileverything by a foolish action."

  "Thank you, Jimmy," said Browne. "I know you mean well by me; but, atthe same time, you must not let your liking for me make you unjust toother people. Maas has proved himself my friend, and I should be meanindeed if I ventured to doubt him."

  "All right," replied Jimmy; "go your way. I'll say no more."

  That evening Browne realized his long-felt wish. He and Katherinepromenaded the deck together, as the yacht sped on its way, across theseas, towards their goal, and talked for hours together of their hopesand aspirations. When at last she and Madame Bernstein bade thegentlemen good-night, the latter adjourned to the smoking-room todiscuss their plan of action. Maas had been evidently thinking thematter over, for he was prepared with one or two new suggestions, whichstruck the company as being eminently satisfactory. So sincere was he,and so anxious to be of service, that when at last they bade each othergood-night, and he had retired below, Jimmy turned to Browne, who wasstanding beside the bulwark, and said:--

  "Jack, old boy, I believe, after all, that I've done that man aninjustice. I _do_ think now that he is really anxious to do what hecan."

  "I'm glad indeed to hear you say so," Browne rejoined; "for I'm sure heis most anxious to be of use. Forgive me if I was a bit sharp to youthis afternoon. I cannot tell you how grateful I feel to you for allyour kindness."

  "Fiddlesticks!" muttered Jimmy. "There's no talk of kindness betweenus."

  Fourteen days after leaving Yokohama, and a little before sunset, thoseon board the yacht caught their first glimpse of the Russian island, ofwhich they had come in search. At first it was scarcely discernible;then, little by little, it grew larger, until its steep and abruptrocks could be distinctly seen, with a far-away line of distantmountain-peaks, stretching to the northward.

  Katharine, Madame Bernstein, and the three young men were upon thebridge at the time. Browne, who held his sweetheart's hand, could feelher trembling. Madame Bernstein appeared by far the most excited ofthe group. Advanced though the time of year was, the air was bitterlycold. But, for once in a way, the Yezo Strait, usually so foggy, wasnow devoid even of a vestige of vapour. The season was a late one, andfor some hours they had been passing packs of drift ice; but as theyclosed up on the land it could be seen lying in thick stacks along theshore.

  "That is Cape Siretoko," said Browne. "It is the most southerly pointof Saghalien."