"Yes, package!" said the Englishman, sharply. "And we'll dispense with
pretense, please. These are war-times, and from common prudence the
Allies keep an eye on all passengers who choose to sail instead of
staying at home as we prefer they should. Captain Cecchi here reports
to me that one of his stewards saw you drop a small weighted object
overboard. He has asked me to interrogate you, instead of doing it
himself, so that you may have the chance to defend yourself in English,
which he doesn't speak."
"_E vero_. It ees the truth," confirmed the captain of the _Re
d'Italia_--the one remark, by the way, that he ever addressed to me.
"Well?" It was the Englishman's cold voice. "We are waiting, Mr. Bayne!
What was this object you were so anxious to dispose of? A message from
some confederate, too compromising to keep?"
Heretofore I had carefully avoided looking at Miss Falconer, but at this
point, turning my head a trifle, I gave her a casual glance. Her eyes
had blackened as they had done that night on the deck; her face had
paled, and her breath was coming fast.
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