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It was during this period of late afternoon that Jeremy usually paced the narrow deck briskly, avoiding sailing gear and cannon and nimbly stepping over numerous obstacles. After more than seven years of a physically active existence, he found life on the Bonnie Maid confining, and long walks on the deck gave him an opportunity to work off his excess energy. It was on one of the first of these walks that he had become aware of Janine Groliere, the girl who had glared at him from the quarter-deck, and he had encountered her almost daily since. Aside from Caroline and her personal maid, the daughter of the captain was the only woman on the brig. Nineteen or twenty years of age, she was of medium height and slight, though not small-boned. Her figure appeared neat and trim beneath the voluminous skirts and heavy sweaters she wore to protect her from the Atlantic winds; her waist was tiny and her breasts firm, and one afternoon Jeremy had caught a glimpse of straight, slim legs. Her hair was a brilliant but soft shade of red, and when the sun shone on it, it looked like highly burnished copper. Her large green eyes were luminous but showed character, her mouth was red and full, and across the bridge of her straight nose was dusted a generous sprinkling of freckles.

There had been considerable talk among Caroline's gentlemen about Janine Groliere during the first days of the voyage, and Jeremy had gathered that her English mother was dead and that her father had paid for an expensive education for her in both France and England. She had, it seemed, joined him prior to his departure from Le Havre some months previous; and, according to the whispers, she was being taken to the West Indian Islands in the hope that some wealthy plantation owner long removed from his homeland would overlook her humble background in favor of her undeniable physical attractiveness and appeal and hence enable her father to marry her off with a distinction impossible in England or on the European continent.

Jeremy was decidedly curious about her. Promptly at four o'clock each afternoon she stepped from her small cabin, which opened on to the deck, and stood in the doorframe. Each time Jeremy circled the deck he could feel her steady gaze on him, but aside from a slight inclination of her head when he first bowed to her in greeting, she neither spoke nor smiled, but only stared at him with a guarded, speculative look in her eyes.

Today, with a bright sun beating down on blue water and a definite feel of warmer days to come in the air, Jeremy suddenly made up his mind to speak to the girl and to end the riddle of her peculiar behavior toward him. As he rounded the stern, he saw that she was already standing on the deck outside her cabin; as a concession to the balmier breezes, she had discarded her sweater and over her bare white throat she had tied a loosely knitted scarf. Perhaps a few minutes of conversation with her would tell him why she had recently been showing such discreet curiosity about him.

Only two days ago she had approached Dirk Friendly and had tried to question him about his "employer." When Dirk had proved singularly uncommunicative on the subject, she had switched to a few casual questions about his own relationship with "Terence Bartlett" but had learned nothing beyond the fact that Dirk had been close to him for many years.

It was improbable that the girl would openly reveal whether her interest had been in any way significant, but she .might give herself away. Approaching her, he bowed, and she dipped her head gravely, never moving her eyes from his. Instead of proceeding down the deck as he had always done previously, Jeremy halted directly in front of her and smiled amiably.

"Mademoiselle Groliere, your servant, ma'am."

"Good afternoon. Master Bartlett." Her voice was sweet, very feminine, and faintly husky. Jeremy realized that this was the first time he had heard her speak. "What do you wish of me, sir?" she demanded with quiet strength.

"I sought the pleasure of a few moments' conversation with you, mademoiselle." Jeremy was sure he was not imagining her aversion to him.

"I do not think we have much in common. Please pardon me." Her fingertips darted up and down the fringe of her scarf, and she started to turn away from him.

Jeremy did not want her to leave; her accent was fascinating, for although she spoke English perfectly and in the best accepted manner of the aristocracy, there was a delicate Gallic lilt to her words, more evident in the rhythm of her speech than in the pronunciation. "Have I offended you in some way?" he asked in genuine concern.

"On the contrary, Master Bartlett. You have never done me any harm at any time." She stared at him coolly, and again he read contempt in her gaze. "Good day, sir."

The door shut hastily, and Jeremy stood staring at the weather-beaten wood panels. He was confused—and more than a little annoyed. Before he could give vent to his urge to rap on the door, he felt someone come up behind him and, turning, saw Dirk approaching, his face grim.

"Jerry," the big man said without preamble, "the Duchess wants t' see ye, 'n' I tell ye plain, watch yer step! There's trouble a-bubblin' up aboard this here ship!"

Instantly alert, Jeremy moved with seeming carelessness to the rail, and Dirk followed glumly. "What sort of trouble. Dirk?"

"All kinds. First off, there's somebuddy disappeared.'*

"Have you taken leave of your senses?"

"Seems like I have, Jerry. There was six o' them Scots guards when we set sail from New York. You know, them fellers that never talk to nobuddy, not even each other, the ones that all seem t' look alike "

"Yes. I know."

"Last night, like I say, there was six of 'em. This momin* there was only five, 'n' they was buzzin' back 'n' forth amongst theirselves like a swarm o' hornets that's been riled up. But soon as I come near 'em they shut up tight. I tried askin' one or two others, but they just give me a deaf ear too. I even tried talkin' t' some o' the crew, but o' course they never pay no heed t' what goes on with the passengers, so they wasn't any help."

"I can't imagine a man actually disappearing. Dirk." Jeremy frowned as he stared out across the open sea. "But I can tell you this much—you and I must be careful of how we conduct ourselves. Don't go round asking too many questions or stirring up troubles,"