Through the open port she heard a man walk rapidly along the deck, and
halt outside the door. She half rose from her knees to answer the
expected knock, thinking that Mrs. Somerville had sent a steward to
ascertain if Miss Baring needed anything. But the newcomer evidently
changed his mind, and turned back. Then came Courtenay's voice, low
but compelling:
"One moment, M'sieu' de Poincilit. A word with you."
The French Count! During the whirl of the previous night, and by
reason of the abiding joy of her morning's reverie, she had failed to
miss the dapper Frenchman. Once, indeed, she had mentioned him to
Isobel, who offered a brief surmise that he might be ill, and keeping
to his cabin. Yet, here he was on deck, and possibly on the point of
seeking an interview with the lady to whom he had paid such close
attention during the early days of the voyage. Perhaps Mrs. Somerville
had told him of the fainting fit, and he was about to make a friendly
inquiry when the captain accosted him. But Elsie's ears, tuned to fine
precision where her lover's utterances were concerned, had caught the
note of contemptuous command, and she was even more surprised by the
Count's flurried answer in French:
"Another time, M'sieu'.
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