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But shortly it reappeared, and with it a lantern and a rope, with somebody clinging to the end of the rope. Trevannion had just time to recognise the figure of Garstin, swaying slowly above him, before he lost consciousness. Garstin got him out, of course. But it was many days before Trevannion learned the details of the rescue.
Garstin picked him up somewhere, saw him by chance, probably at the Cafe Royal or some place of that kind, and asked him to sit." "Do you know him?" asked the Baron, with sharp curiosity. "Oh, no! I have never set eyes upon him. Beryl told me." "Miss Van Tuyn! We all thought she was trying to keep the whole matter a secret." "Well, she told me quite openly. You were there, weren't you?"
And how he had waited for her, how he had known how to wait! It was frightful that deliberation of his! Garstin had been right about him. Garstin's instinct for people had not betrayed him. Although later Arabian's craft had puzzled even him he had summed up Arabian at a first glance. Garstin was diabolically clever.
Now intense curiosity was born in her and seemed for the moment to submerge her uneasiness and fear. "But wasn't it understood?" she said. "Please, what do you say was understood?" "Didn't Mr. Garstin say he meant to exhibit the picture and afterwards give it to you?" "But I say that I shall not permit Dick Garstin to exhibit my picture." "Why won't you allow it?" she asked.
Garstin had told Arabian flatly that he wasn't going to paint a magnificent torso like his concealed by infernal linen and serge, and Arabian had been quite willing that his neck and shoulders should be painted in the nude.
On the following morning, as usual, she went to Glebe Place to take what she had called her "lesson" from Dick Garstin. She arrived rather early, a few minutes before eleven, and found Garstin alone, looking tired and irritable. "You look as if you had been up all night," she said as he let her in. "So I have!" She did not ask him what he had been doing. He would probably refuse to tell her.
"And what's that?" said Garstin, as he took Sir Seymour's hand, almost doubtfully. "About the way you've taken it, and your letting the blackguard off." "Oh, as to that, I bet you he'll be in Paris by five to-day." "Just what I think. But still " He pressed Garstin's hand, and Garstin returned the pressure. "Beryl wanted me to paint him, but I painted him to please myself.
And Garstin drew out of a side pocket a visiting-card, which he gave to Miss Van Tuyn. She read: "Nicolas Arabian." There was no address in the corner. "What a curious name!" She sat gazing at the card and smoking her cigarette. "Do you know where he is staying?" "No." "Did you speak English to him?" "I did." "And he spoke good English?" "Yes, with a foreign accent of some kind."
What I want to know is whether you will allow me to bring two or three people here to see this portrait? I'm doing this I'm here now, and want to come here again, if you are so kind as to allow me " "Always jolly glad to see you!" interjected Garstin, with a sort of gruff heartiness. "Thank you! I'm doing this for your friend, Miss Beryl Van Tuyn." "Ha!" said Garstin.
A boy like that could do nothing by himself even if he had the nerve; and Garstin had none. However, he would not be long in finding the watchman, and bringing him to the rescue. They ought to be here now. They certainly ought to be here now. Nervously anxious, he listened for any sound of footfall or voice. Did Garstin realise the danger of the black water that was rising, ever rising?
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