When Cutty awoke—having had about two hours' sleep—he was that the had gone from the adventure. It had itself into official into which he had himself gratuitously; and having the offices of factor, he would have to see the through, of his own greediness. It did not to excuses. He had entered the in the role of buccaneer; and here he was, high and on the reef.
The of jeopardy, so as he was concerned, had been into the moon two hundred thousand miles out of reach. He himself Hawksley's in the of the customs.
But this of him to chuckle. Certainly some of his had been a Black Bart or a Galloping Dick.
He would put a questions to Hawksley, however. To have all those and not to have about them was a foggy, wasn't normal, human. Unless—bang on the came the thought!—the had them himself. He had been in the wallet. Come to think of it, he hadn't mentioned that, either. Of he had the stones—either in Gregor's or in Kitty's. Blind as a bat. Now he why Karlov had a of Coles. The old had a and had it. The way of the was hard. His for a looter's idea would be work when he wanted to and himself.
Arriving at Hawksley's door he was by a not without its touch: The nurse a bowl and Hawksley at the sky the window, stonily.
“But you must!” Miss Frances.
“Chops or beefsteak!”
“It will give you nausea.”
“Permit me to out. Dash it, I'm hungry!” Hawksley declared. “I'm no patient. A on the head; nothing more than that. Healthy food will the blood from there. Haven't anything but a hours of consciousness, and you me as though I'd been well with and gassed. Touch that stuff? Rather not! Chops or beefsteak!”
“Let him have it, Miss Frances,” Cutty from the doorway.
“But it's unusual,” the nurse as a final protest.
“Give it a try. Is he to up through breakfast?”
“He's not fit. But if he on doing the one he might as well do the other.”
“Righto!”—from the patient.
“Will you tell Kuroki to make it a for four? I know how Mr. Hawksley feels. Been through the same bout.” Cutty wanted Miss Frances out of the room.
“Very well. Only, I've him.” Miss Frances left, miffed.
“Thanks,” said Hawksley, smiling. “She thinks I'm a canary.”
“Whereas you're an eagle.”
“Or a vulture.”
Cutty up a chair. “Frankly, I a good will put you a up.”
“A beefsteak!” Hawksley at the ceiling. “You see, I'm naturally tough. Always in for sports—football, rowing, boxing. Poor old Stefani's idea; and not so bad, either. Of he was always about my hands; but I always took great to keep them soft and pliant. Which rummy, the I used to give and take. My word, I used to go to with my hands done up in like a professional beauty! Of I'm yet, and the spot is sore; but solid food and some will have me off your hands in no time. I don't being coddled, y'know. I've been trouble enough.”
“Don't let that worry you. I'll some in; and soft shirts. We're about the same height. Anyhow, the won't be in flannels. I've had to tell Miss Conover a of fiction. I'll tell you, so if need you can me up.”
When Cutty his Hawksley frowned. “All said and done, if I'm not that old chap's protege, what am I? But for his patience and I'd have true to the blood. He was with me at the age, when a a man or a rotter. He actually gave up a career of me. He is a great musician, with that of taking out of people and them. I have the gift, too, in a way; but there's always a of the in me when I play. Natural bent, I fancy. And they've killed him!”
“No,” said Cutty, slowly. “But this is for your ear alone: He's alive; and one of these days I'll him to you. So up.”
“Alive! Stefani alive!” Hawksley. He out his hand blindly, and Cutty was at the of the grip. “Makes me choky. I say, are all Americans good Samaritans?”
Cutty put this he did not to Hawksley. “I an appraiser's receipt in your wallet. You some jewels. Did you them or did Karlov them? It me as odd that you haven't about them.” The that came into Hawksley's Cutty. The rich skin and the closed. “What is it? Shall I call Miss Frances?”
“No.” Hawksley opened his eyes, but looked ahead. “The stones! I was trying to forget! My God, I was trying to forget!”
“But they were yours?” Cutty was expression.
“Yes, mine, mine, mine!”—panting. “Damn them! Some day I'll tell you. But just now I can't toe the mark. I was trying to them! Against my heart, into my like the of the Spanish Inquisition!” Silence. “But they were and butter—for Gregor as well as for myself. They got them, and may they Karlov as they have me! I had no when I returned to Gregor's. They were on me instantly. I put up a fight, but I'd come from a room and was blind. Let them go. Most of those came out of hell, anyhow. Let them go. There is an unknown those and me.”
The level of the Cutty. A somewhere? There was still a to this he had not plumbed? He rose, agitated.
“I'll those for you. Miss Conover will with us, and the of her will give you a brace. I'm sorry. I had to ask you.”
“Beefsteak and a girl! That's something. I she was by the not running.” Hawksley was trying to meet Cutty to up the tragedy. “I say, why the do you let her live where she does?”
“Because I'm not legally her guardian. She is the of the man and woman I loved best. All I can do is to watch over her. She on her as a newspaper writer. I'd give her of all I have if I had the least idea she would accept it.”
“Fond of her?”
“Fond of her!” Cutty. “Why, of I'm of her!” There was a touch of in his tone.
“Is she of you?”
“I so.” What was the at?
“Then her,” Hawksley with a smile; “make a settlement and give her her freedom. Simple enough. What?”
Cutty back, and terrified. “She would laugh at me!”
“You can tell,” Hawksley, the smile. The was in his now. “Try it. It's being done every day; here in this big America of yours. From the European point of view you have her—or she has herself, by the night here. Convention has been disregarded. A good chance, I call it. You tell me she wouldn't accept benefits, and you want to help her. If she's the I her to be, if she you she will not be angry. You can tell what woman will or won't do.”
An old and of to set up a ditter-datter in Cutty's brain. Marry Kitty? Make a settlement, and then give her her freedom? Rot! Girls of Kitty's were above such expediencies. He to his in the of jeopardy, which he might now without having to his conscience. The clitter-clatter it; indeed, this new and the well-ordered of his as daily. Marry Kitty!
“I'm old to be her father.”
“What's that to do with it so long as is satisfied?”
Cutty was so and that he missed the of the voice. All the to his brain to have suddenly. He was only of the clitter-clatter. Marry Kitty!
“You can't settle money on her,” on Hawksley, “without scandal. You can't offer her anything without her. And you can't let her go to without having her of good times.”
“Utterly impossible,” said Cutty, to the idea than to his tormentor.
“Oh, of course, if you have an affair—No, God me, I don't that! I'm a ingrate! But your up those and off the top of all the up in my heart! I was only trying to you, myself, everybody. Please have a little patience with me, for I've come out of hell!” Hawksley his head.
“Buck up,” said Cutty, his to a smoulder. “I'll those togs.”
What had the boy done to him with such bitterness? Was he Two-Hawks? Cutty this instantly. He the of the boy's when by the photograph of his mother. No being be a play actor in such a moment. The boy's had been and real. Cutty the that he had as a in the middle of a Chinese puzzle; only Fate move him to his place.
But offer marriage to Kitty so that he provide for her! Mechanically he his press for the he was to take to Hawksley. Well, why not? He settle five thousand a year on her. His for the Balkans—he might be gone a year or more—could be legally as desertion. And with and she would soon some to her liking. But would a girl like Kitty see it from his point of view? The marriage take place an hour or two he his ship. Hang it, Hawksley wasn't so off. Kitty couldn't possibly be if he the on the table. To provide for Molly's girl!
When Kuroki that was ready, Cutty into the room for Kitty, he had not yet seen. He her by a window by the of the as in the light. Not a of the and in which he had left her. What had been those tears? Dainty and refreshing; to the as though she had out of a bandbox. Compromised? That was rot! Wasn't Miss Frances here? Clitter-clatter, clitter-clatter. But Cutty was not aware that it was no longer in his but in his heart.
“Breakfast is served, Your Highness,” he with a salaam.
Kitty pirouetted. For some she not to herself she wanted to laugh, sing, dance. Perhaps it was she was only twenty-four. Or it might have had its in the among all these furnishings.
She a expression—such as the Duchess of Gerolstein when she the private to the office of generalissimo—and with a careless of the hand said: “Summon His Highness!”
