tenders puffed away, packed from stem to stern. A few people for whom
there was no room embarked in small boats manned by jabbering Arabs.
Two of these cockle-shells still moved up and down under the black,
mountainous side of the ship, and the officer whose duty it was to see
the passengers off was visibly restless. He wanted to know if my
lordship was ready; and my lordship's brain was straining after an
excuse for further delay, when a man and woman arrived opportunely;
Rechid Bey and a veiled, muffled form hooked to his arm; a slender,
appealing little figure: and through the veil I fancied that I caught a
gleam of large, wistful, anxious eyes.

The ladies were lying in wait out of sight, and I dodged behind the
sturdy blue shoulders guarding the gangway. This was my first glimpse
of the Ship's Mystery; and though I did not like my job (I had to
surprise Rechid Bey and take his mind off his wife) my curiosity was
pricked. The figure in sealskin looked very girlish; the veiled head
was bowed. The mystery took on human personality for me, and Monny
Gilder was no longer obstinate; she was a loyal friend. I did not see
that we could be of use to the poor little fool who had married a Turk,
yet I was suddenly ready to do what I could. As Rechid Bey brought his
wife to the top of the gangway, I lounged out, and spoke. Disconcerted,
the stout, good-looking man of thirty let drop the arm of the girl,
putting her behind him. And this was what Monny wanted. They would have
an instant for a few disjointed words: Monny might perhaps have time to
promise help which the girl dared not ask, even behind her husband's
back.

"Good evening," I said in French, taking advantage of a smoke-room
acquaintance. "Is that smart boat down there for you? I was trying to
secure it, in my best Arabic, but the fellow said it was engaged."