In these circumstances of the sea he loved so well there was certain
anodyne for those twinges of chagrin which he must suffer when reminded
of the sorry figure he had cut overnight.
Still there were compensations--of a more material nature, too, than
this delight which he had of being once again at sea. To have cheapened
himself in the estimation of Liane Delorme and Phinuit and Monk was
really to his advantage; for to persuade an adversary to under-estimate
one is to make him almost an ally. Also, Lanyard now had no more need
to question the fate of the Montalais jewels, no more blank spaces
remained to be filled in his hypothetical explanation of the intrigues
which had enmeshed the Chateau de Montalais, its lady and his honour.
He knew now all he needed to know, he could put his hand on the jewels
when he would; and he had a fair fortnight (the probable duration of
their voyage, according to Monk) in which to revolve plans for making
away with them at minimum cost to himself in exertion and exposure to
reprisals.
Plans? He had none as yet, he would begin to formulate and ponder them
only when he had better acquaintance with the ship and her company and
had learned more about that ambiguous landfall which she was to make
(as Phinuit had put it) "in the dark of the moon.
Pages:
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349