`I'll give you all the reasons later,' he said, endeavouring to humour her rather than bully her, as he helped her into the coat.
`Anyhow, there is time for you to get this off me.' As she spoke she turned. He noticed with vague surprise that she was wearing gloves, and drawing off the left one she thrust her hand out towards him.
`D'you mean my ring?' he asked in a puzzled voice. `But why?'
`Of course, stupid!' she exclaimed, turning away her head. `It has been hurting me all the evening. It's like a hot band round my finger, and I can't look at it. Every time I do it dazzles me.'
He stared at the signet ring and wondered if he could possibly be imagining things. To him it was not dazzling, but its gold seemed to be shining with a brighter, purer light than it had ever done during the years he had worn it himself. His father, to whom it had originally belonged, had not been a pious man, but upright and fearless, and the thought flashed into John's mind that perhaps the precious metal had mysteriously absorbed some of his father's qualities; so was now having on Christina, in a minor degree, a similar effect to that of the crucifix his mother had thrown to her the previous night. Seeing that the knuckle above the ring was red, angry and swollen, he said
`You have been trying to get it off yourself, and failed; so I don't suppose I can.'
`That was Jules,' she replied with an impatient shrug. `I asked him to try, and offered to kiss him if he could; but he couldn't; so I wouldn't. But you put it on; so you must get it off.'
Suddenly it occurred to him that the ring might, perhaps, be acting to some extent as a charm against evil and, as long as she wore it, would reduce the strength of her nocturnal inclinations to play into the hands of her own enemies; so he shook his head.
`No. I'll take it off to morrow morning for you if you like; but there is no time now. We've lost a couple of minutes as it is. And Jules isn't the only person I've had to lay out in order to get hold of you. Ten minutes ago I slogged an officer. Any moment. ..'
`Did you?' she broke in, her eyes glowing again. `Oh, John, I think you're wonderful ! Let's get away then. I'll go anywhere you wish.'
`Right; come on!' He grabbed her by the arm and hurried her to the door. `It's not Jules I'm worried about, but the other chap. The Captain may send someone to look for him. The moment they find him the hunt will be up. Alarm bells, lights all over the ship, and God knows what else. If that starts before we can get ashore our number will be up.'
The passage was empty. No one was battering on the door of the galley; evidently the steward and the chef had not heard the struggle in the saloon, or yet discovered that they were locked in. Still holding Christina by the arm, John drew her up the companionway after him. As his head emerged above deck level he glimpsed through the stern rail a man standing on the quay, some thirty feet away, by a bollard round which was looped the yacht's stern hawser. It looked as if he was awaiting orders to cast off, but the deck of the yacht was still in darkness.
Feeling certain that if they ran the length of the deck they would be bound to attract the watchman's attention and that, with his suspicions aroused, he would dash down the ladder from the bridge in an attempt to stop them before they reached the gangway, John whispered
`Steady, now. We must walk off just as if we had dined aboard and I was no going to see you home. With luck the watchman may take me for Jules, as he and I are about the same height. If we could be laughing over something, that would be all to the good. My mind is a blank about funny stories at the moment, but perhaps you can think of one.'
`Yes,' replied Christina promptly, as they set off along the deck. `Do you know the one about the five brides describing to one another what had happened on the first night of their honeymoon? The first said, “My husband was just like Roosevelt, he ...” '
The rest of her sentence was drowned by the siren of a car. Next moment its headlights rolled back the darkness from the quay. As it ran past them it was slowing down and its driver brought it smoothly to a halt opposite the gangway.
`Hell!' exclaimed John, pulling Christina up. `That will be the Marquis ! Quick ! We must hide!'
But it was too late. He had scarcely got the words out when there was a movement on the bridge, a whistle shrilled, and all the lights were switched on. Momentarily dazzled by the glare, they were caught in it, standing between two of the skylights right in the middle of the deck.
The passengers were getting out of the car; two tall men and one short one. A bearded officer, who looked as if he might be the Captain, was leaning over the after bridge rail looking down at them. Another man stood beside him. Two more sailors ran out from the bridge house and took up positions on either side of the gangway.
Suddenly it dawned on John that of all these people not one was looking in the direction of Christina and himself. If they could get below again and find some place in which to conceal themselves Jules would believe that they had succeeded in getting ashore before his father's arrival. With luck they might remain as stowaways, undiscovered, until the yacht reached its port of destination, then slip ashore there. Swiftly he turned Christina about and pushed her towards the after hatch at a quick walk.
They still had ten feet to go when they caught a muffled shouting from the galley; then, as they reached the hatch, a loud banging on its door. The steward and the chef had just discovered that they were locked in, and were endeavouring to draw attention to their plight.
Before John was half way down the companionway, the banging abruptly ceased. As he neared its bottom he saw the reason, and consternation seized him. Jules had come round from being knocked out and striking his head on the chair leg much more quickly than he might have been expected. Perhaps he had pushed the buzzer for help, and it was that which had led to the steward, on going to answer it, finding that the galley door was locked on the outside. In any case, Jules had staggered out into the passage and, only a moment earlier, unlocked the door. He now stood swaying, a little drunkenly, as the steward and the chef tumbled out through it.
Once more John's lack of experience in affairs of violence had let him down; but it was vain now for him to curse himself for not having had the forethought to tie Jules up and gag him while he had the chance.
A trickle of blood was running down from a cut on Jules' forehead into his left eye. With a shaky hand he brushed it away and focused his unsteady glance on John's legs as they appeared down the companionway. The second he saw his faces he flung out a pointing arm and shouted to his men
`There he is! Get him ! Get him!'
The chef was a small plump man with a mild expression, and did not look at all the type who would willingly get himself mixed up in a rough house; but the steward was a brawny specimen with a low forehead, flattened nose and bull dog jaw. Jules' description of him earlier as `quite a gorilla' had been an apt one.
John gave the group one glance, swung about, yelled to Christina to get back up the ladder, and scampered after her. Quick as he was, they would have been on him before he was half way up had it not been that the chef, who was nearest, hesitated a second and the steward had to push past him.
Christina stubbed her toe and tripped over the top step. Hopping out on to the deck she let go a spate of foul language that sounded peculiarly shocking coming from her young, innocent looking mouth; but John registered the fact only subconsciously. In tripping she had held him up for a moment. The gorilla like steward was right on his heels and grabbing at them. He cleared the top step only just in time, but, swinging round, managed to kick his pursuer in the face.
With a howl of rage and pain, the man swayed backward. His eyes goggling and his hands clutching frantically at the empty air, he hovered for a second, then overbalanced. More yells came from below as his heavy body went crashing down on the little chef and Jules, who had been mounting the ladder behind him. Seizing the advantage this debacle had given him, John stepped back, swung to the double doors of the hooded hatch cover, and. flicked over into its staple the stout iron hook that secured them.