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Updated: May 29, 2025
A real treasure of two millions of francs!" clapping her hands. "Where?" It was Breitmann who spoke. His voice was not clear. "Corsica!" "Corsica!" The admiral laughed like a child. Right under his very nose all these years, and he cruising all over the chart! "Laura, dear, there's no reason in the world why we shouldn't take the yacht and go and dig up this pretty sum." "No reason in the world!"
The captain's vanity was soothed, but he was not aware that he had put doubt upon his own veracity. "That's kind of you." "An' say!" went on the captain, drinking his tea, not because he liked it but because it was customary, "I've got a character forwards. I'm allus shippin' odds and ends. Got a Frenchman; hands like a lady." Breitmann leaned forward, and M. Ferraud sat up.
"He either fears his fate too much, Or his deserts are small, Who dares not put it to the touch To win or lose it all." Money wasn't everything; she herself had made that statement the first night out. He had been afraid of Breitmann, but somehow that fear was all gone now. Did she care, if ever so little? He veered his gaze round and wondered where Breitmann was.
As he seized his hat and left the room he had the idea of telephoning for a nurse, when he almost ran into some one in the upper hall, and recognized the stout German woman, Mrs. Breitmann. "Mrs. Garvin" he said, "she ought not to be left " "I am just now going," said Mrs. Breitmann. "I stay with her until her husband come."
The three men rose hastily; the father with pride, Fitzgerald with gladness, and Breitmann with doubt and wonder and fear. It might be truthfully said that the tableau lasted as long as she willed it to last. Perhaps she read in the three masculine faces turned toward her a triangular admiration, since it emanated from three given points, and took from it a modest pinch for her vanity.
"So, Miss Killigrew, you believe that this treasure should be handed over to its legal owner?" Breitmann looked into her eyes for the first time that evening. "I have some doubt about the legal ownership, but the sentimental and moral ownership is his. A romance should always have a pleasant ending." "You are thinking of books," was Cathewe's comment.
A stout figure, hitherto unperceived, rose from a corner and came silently toward them Mrs. Breitmann. She beckoned to them, and they followed her into a room on the same floor, where she told them what she knew, heedless of the tears coursing ceaselessly down her cheeks. It seemed that Mrs. Garvin had had a premonition which she had not wholly confided to the rector.
This is pretty well for a flight of inductive genius, but it is quite surpassed by the soaring Teutonic mind before mentioned, who, in the words of the reflective Breitmann, Dinks so deeply As only Deutschers can. This mighty philosopher, of whom Mr.
Il fait bien du vent," adjusting his spectacles and viewing the clear sky and the serene bosom of the Mediterranean. Then M. Ferraud turned round with: "Ah, Mr. Fitzgerald, this man Breitmann is what you call 'poor devil, is it not? At dinner to-night I shall tell a story, at once marvelous past belief and pathetic.
Breitmann," he said, rising and looking out of the port-hole. "Very well, sir. I believe that by the time we make Corsica we shall have the book ready for the printers. It is very interesting." "Much obliged. You have been a good aid. As you know, I am writing this rubbish only because it is play and passable mental exercise."
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