The Swindler and Other Stories | Page 8

a little--"ought I to take it?"
He raised his shoulders.
"I shall give it to the captain for you, if you don't. But I would rather
give it to you direct."
In face of this, Cynthia yielded, feeling as if he compelled her.
"But mayn't I open it?"
"No." West's eyes held hers for a second. "Not till to-morrow. And, in
case we don't meet again, I'll say good-bye."
"But we shall meet in New York?" she urged, with a sudden sense of
loss. "Or perhaps in Boston? My father would really like to meet you."
"Much obliged," said West, with his grim smile. "But I'm not much of a
society man. And I don't think I shall find myself in Boston at present."
"Then--then--I sha'n't see you again--ever?" Cynthia's tone was
unconsciously tragic. Till that moment she had scarcely realised how
curiously strong an attraction this man held for her.
West's expression changed. His emotionless blue eyes became

suddenly more blue, and intense with a vital fire. He leaned towards her
as one on the verge of vehement speech.
Then abruptly his look went beyond her, and he checked himself.
"Who knows?" he said carelessly. "Good-bye for the present, anyway!
It's been a pleasant voyage."
He straightened himself with the words, nodded, and turned aside
without so much as touching her hand.
And Cynthia, glancing round with an instinctive feeling of discomfiture,
saw Rudd with another man, standing watching them at the end of the
passage.
* * * * *
In the dark of early morning they reached New York. Most of the
passengers decided to remain on board for breakfast, which was served
at an early hour in the midst of a hubbub and turmoil indescribable.
Cynthia, with her aunt and Archie, partook of a hurried meal in the
thick of the ever-shifting crowd. She looked in vain for West, her grey
eyes searching perpetually.
One friend after another came up to bid them good-bye, stood a little,
talking, and presently drifted away. The whole ship from end to end
hummed like a hive of bees.
She was glad when at length she was able to escape from the noisy
saloon. She had not slept well, and her nerves were on edge. The
memory of that interrupted conversation with West, of the confidence
unspoken, went with her continually. She had an almost feverish
longing to see him once more, even though it were in the heart of the
crowd. He had been about to tell her something. Of that she was certain.
She had an intense, an almost passionate desire to know what it was.
Surely he would not--he could not--go ashore without seeing her again!

She had not intended to open the packet he had given her till she was
ashore herself, but a palpitating curiosity tugged ever at her resolution
till at length she could resist it no longer. West was nowhere to be seen,
and she felt she must know more. It was intolerable to be thus left in
the dark. Through the scurrying multitude of departing passengers, she
began to make her way back to her cabin. Her progress was of
necessity slow, and once in a crowded corner she was stopped
altogether.
Two men were talking together close to her. Their backs were towards
her, and in the general confusion they did not observe her futile
impatience to pass.
"Oh, I knew the fellow was a wrong 'un, all along," were the first words
that filtered to the girl's consciousness as she stood. "But I didn't think
he was responsible for that card trick, I must say. Young Bathurst
looked so abominably hangdog."
It was the Englishman, Norton, who spoke, and the man who stood
with him was Rudd. Cynthia realised the near presence of the latter
with a sensation of disgust. His drawling tones grated upon her
intolerably.
"Waal," he said, "it was just that card trick that opened my eyes--I
shouldn't have noticed him, otherwise. I knew that young Bathurst was
square. He hasn't the brains to be anything else. And when this chap
butted in with his thick-ribbed impudence, I guessed right then that we
hadn't got a beginner to deal with. After that I watched for a bit, and
there were several little things that made me begin to reflect. So the
next evening I got a wireless message off to my partner in New York,
and I reckon that did the trick. When we came up alongside this
morning, the vultures were all ready for him. I took them to his cabin
myself. There was no fuss at all. He saw it was all up, and gave in
without a murmur. They were only just in time, though. In another
thirty seconds, he would have been off. It was