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Then sounded the rolling of carriage wheels, nearer and nearer. It was the doctor's carriage, no doubt. Uncertainty soon came to an end. Cyrus Redgrave was beyond help: he must have breathed his last so said the doctor at the moment when he fell. Not as a result of the fall; the blow of Carnaby's fist had killed him.
Redgrave signalled to the man at the steering wheel. The Astronef slackened pace a little, dropped a yard or so, and slid up quite close to the bridge-rail again. Lord Redgrave got in first and ran a light gangway down on to the bridge. Zaidie and Mrs. Van Stuyler were carefully handed up.
And then "Stand by steering-gear." The next moment there was another tinkle in the engine-room. Redgrave, standing with Zaidie in the conning-tower, moved the power-wheel through ten degrees, and then to the amazement of tens of thousands of spectators, the hull of the Astronef rose perpendicularly from the waters of the Bay.
The melody almost exactly described the upward motion of the Astronef, and she could see that it was instantly understood, for when she had finished their two voices joined in an almost exact imitation of it. When Redgrave brought up the wine and the glasses they looked at them without any sign of surprise. The pop of the cork did not even make them look round.
As she said afterwards, she felt just like a bottled volcano which would like to go off and daren't. About two minutes of somewhat surcharged silence passed. Mrs. Van Stuyler sipped her coffee in ostentatiously small sips. Lord Redgrave took his in slower and longer ones, and helped himself to bread and butter. Miss Zaidie appeared perfectly contented with her contemplation of the clouds.
When due payment had been given and taken, or perhaps it would be more correct to say taken and given, Redgrave put his finger on one of the buttons. Immediately Zaidie heard the swish of the air past the smooth wall of the conning-tower grow fainter and fainter.
Then, of course, he goes in for art, music all that sort of thing. There's really no humbug about him. He's neither prig nor cad, though I used to think him a little of both. Harvey reflected; revived his mental image of the capitalist, and still found it very unlike the picture suggested by Hugh. 'Who is Redgrave? he asked. 'How did he get his money? 'I know nothing about that.
This done, Redgrave went and turned the starboard Maxim on to another swarm which was approaching the Astronef from that side. When he had got the range he swung the gun slowly from side to side. The moving throng stopped, as the other one had done, and sank down to the red grass, now dyed with a deeper red.
'Ten thousand! Lieber Himmel! And married? 'No. 'In Parliament, I suppose? 'No. 'Then, what does he do? 'Oh, amuses himself. Each became occupied with her thoughts. Alma's were so agreeable, that Miss Steinfeld, observing her, naturally fell into romantic speculation. Redgrave easily contrived that his next walk should be with Miss Frothingham alone.
As soon as they got back on board the Astronef and had taken their breathing-dresses off, Redgrave and the old engineer, who appeared to take no visible interest in their new surroundings, threw open all the sliding doors on the upper and lower decks so that the vessel might be thoroughly ventilated by the fresh sweet air.
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