It had come to him one night
that he must know for himself how much truth there was in Da Souza's
story. He could not live with the thought that a thunderbolt was
ever in the skies, that at any moment his life might lie wrecked
about him. He was going out by one steamer and back by the next,
the impending issue of his great Company afforded all the excuse
that was necessary. If Da Souza's story was true - well, there were
many things which might be done, short of a complete disclosure.
Monty might be satisfied, if plenty of money were forthcoming, to
abandon his partnership and release the situation from its otherwise
endless complications. Trent smoked his cigar placidly and, taking
off his cap bared his head to the sweeping sea-wind, which seemed
laden with life and buoyancy. Suddenly as he swung round by the
companion-way he found himself confronted by a newcomer who came
staggering out from the gangway. There was a moment's recoil and
a sharp exclamation. Trent stood quite still and a heavy frown
darkened his face.
"Da Souza!" he exclaimed. "How on earth came you on board?"
Da Souza's face was yellower than ever and he wore an ulster
buttoned up to his chin. Yet there was a flash of malice in his
eyes as he answered -
"I came by late tender at Southampton," he said.
Pages:
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191