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Wilders thought she had sufficient influence with Captain Trejago to persuade him, not only to postpone his departure, but to take a trip to the Crimea. In this she was perfectly successful, and the day after Lord Lydstone's funeral the Arcadia, with a fine breeze aft, steered northward across the Black Sea. It reached Balaclava on the morning of the 5th of November, and Mrs.
Trejago had to walk with this lady and talk to her at the Band-stand, and once or twice to drive with her; never for an instant dreaming that this would affect his dearer, out-of-the-way life. But the news flew, in the usual mysterious fashion, from mouth to mouth, till Bisesa's duenna heard of it and told Bisesa.
I am his aide-de-camp. Show the way, will you?" "It may be as you say," muttered Trejago, not half satisfied. "But you will have to wait till Mrs. Wilders says she will receive you." "What's the matter? Who is this person?" It was the voice of Mrs. Wilders, who now advanced from the stern of the yacht, having seen but not overheard the latter part of the altercation. McKay stepped forward.
Then, as Bisesa bowed her head between her arms and sobbed, some one in the room grunted like a wild beast, and something sharp knife, sword, or spear, thrust at Trejago in his boorka. The stroke missed his body, but cut into one of the muscles of the groin, and he limped slightly from the wound for the rest of his days. The grating went into its place.
It was a service of immense danger, but the boat was lowered, and for more than half-an-hour made such diligent search as was possible in the weather and in the sea. After that time the boat was brought back to the yacht by its brave but disappointed crew. "No chance for the poor chap," said Captain Trejago, shaking his head despondingly in reply to Mrs. Wilders's mute but eager appeal.
"Trust in Providence and hope for the best! But I think if I might suggest it would be as well to keep the general in ignorance of our condition, which is not so very desperate after all." "How do you mean?" "'Our cables are stout, Captain Trejago says, and we ought to be able to ride out the storm."
The child was so troubled that she did the household work evilly, and was beaten by Durga Charan's wife in consequence. A week later, Bisesa taxed Trejago with the flirtation. She understood no gradations and spoke openly. Trejago laughed and Bisesa stamped her little feet little feet, light as marigold flowers, that could lie in the palm of a man's one hand.
But Captain Trejago was soft-hearted, easily led, especially by any daughter of Eve, and he had long since succumbed to the fascinations of Mrs. Wilders's charms. From the day she first trod the deck of the yacht he had become her humblest, perhaps, but most devoted, admirer and slave. They exchanged a few words of sympathy and condolence.
"The captain wanted to know. He has no wish to go inside the harbour, as it is so crowded; but he would not like to remain long off this coast. It might be dangerous, he says." "A lee-shore, you know," added Captain Trejago, for himself. "Look at those straight cliffs; fancy our grinding on to them, with a southerly, or rather a south-westerly, gale!"
Then, as Bisesa bowed her head between her arms and sobbed, some one in the room grunted like a wild beast, and something sharp knife, sword or spear thrust at Trejago in his boorka. The stroke missed his body, but cut into one of the muscles of the groin, and he limped slightly from the wound for the rest of his days. The grating went into its place.
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