Lucile Triumphant Part 21

"So it was finally decided that I was to travel to America for the purpose of hunting up one of the chief witnesses of my father's will and beg him to return to France with me. Meanwhile, my father's attorney a.s.sured me he would not be idle."

"And did you find him--the witness, I mean?" said Mr. Payton.

"No, Monsieur, I did not; but, after a long and exhaustive search, I learned that the one I sought had sailed a week ago on the steamer 'Baltic,' so all my journey has been for nothing."

"What difference does it make? At least, you accomplished your purpose."

"That is true, Madame, but he would have sailed without aid of mine, and it maddens me to think that all this time I have been wasting in a fruitless search, my Jeanette is still unfound. Where may she not be?

Dead--perhaps----" His voice trailed off into silence and they sat motionless, fascinated by the spell of romance, tragedy and mystery he had woven.

CHAPTER XV

"LAND, HO!"

Lucile opened her eyes slowly, lazily, and let them rove aimlessly about the bright cabin; then, chancing to come upon Jessie and Evelyn sleeping sweetly and peacefully, they stopped and focused resentfully.

"Nothing to do but sleep," she murmured, pushing back her rumpled curls and yawning prodigiously. "I wonder why it is I always have to wake up first," and then, her eyes happening to fall on Evelyn at this precise moment, she cried, "Oh, I saw you wink, Evelyn; you can't fool me! You're playing possum," and, springing quickly out of bed, she gave that young lady a vigorous shake, which caused her to open her eyes rather suddenly.

"Wh-what's the matter? Can't you let a fellow sleep?" she began, but the laughter in her eyes belied the sleepy tone, and Lucile hugged her and pulled her out of bed. "I'll admit you're a dabster, Evelyn, dear," she cried, "but you will have to get up early in the morning to get the best of your little friend."

Evelyn laughed merrily. "You whirlwind!" she cried. "n.o.body has a chance to sleep when you're around."

"Don't be too sure of that; look at Jessie. She is still sleeping the sleep of the just."

"All right; let's make her get up, then. Even if she does want to sleep, why should we worry?"

"Evelyn," cried Lucy, shocked, "you're getting most horribly slangy."

"Oh, Lucy, you look so funny, trying to be severe in that rig! It can't be done!" And, with a laugh, she plumped down on something hard and lumpy, which proved to be Jessie's feet. The outraged owner objected promptly and emphatically.

"Oh, Jessie, I'm so sorry! Are those your feet?" cried Evelyn, in concern.

"No; they are Lucy's," said Jessie, coldly, rubbing the injured members gingerly.

Lucile laughed merrily. "Don't you go slandering my poor feet," she cried. "Anyway, it serves you right for being so lazy, Jess."

"Oh, does it? Well, I'll just prove you wrong by beating you all on deck, One, two, three--we're off!"

Then ensued a great amount of talk and laughter and wild scrambling for clothing that would get out of sight, until at the end of half an hour, our girls made a dash for the door at precisely the same instant.

"Oh, that's not fair," cried Evelyn, as Lucile wrenched open the door and ran straight into the arms of the rather stout, middle-aged matron who happened to be pa.s.sing.

"Oh," she gasped, "I--I beg your pardon! I----"

"Look first, and you will save your apologies," said the sweet-tempered lady, who, to do her justice, was considerably shaken by the impact.

Lucile flushed scarlet, but walked on with her head in the air, thankful she had not expressed the thought that had rushed to her lips.

"Cranky old curmudgeon!" murmured Evelyn, vindictively. "It's lucky there aren't so many of them in the world."

To their surprise, Lucile began to laugh with great enjoyment. "Girls,"

she said, "did you hear her say 'woof' when we clashed?"

Two hours later they sighted the harbor, and on board pandemonium broke loose. Questions and answers were fired back and forth like bullets from a Gatling gun, and everywhere field gla.s.ses were glued to eager eyes.

"So that's England?" said Lucile. "Oh, Jessie, pinch me!"

"Won't. Love you too much," said Jessie, gazing intently toward the harbor, which became more and more distinct with every pa.s.sing moment.

"Don't let any such soft scruples stand in your way," said Phil, administering the desired pinch with such good effect that Lucile jumped almost a foot and lowered her gla.s.ses to gaze reproachfully at him.

"Phil, that will be black and blue for a month," she said, with conviction. "You needn't have done it so hard."

"You didn't say not to," said Phil, with the air of injured innocence that sat so comically upon him. "Here comes old Charlie," he added, a minute later. "Wonder if he's found anything since last night."

"Who in the world is old Charlie?" inquired Jessie, mystified.

"Old Charlie? Why, old Charlie is short for Monsieur Charloix, of course," elucidated Phil, with the patronizing air of one speaking to a peculiarly stupid child.

Instantly the girls' interest in Liverpool harbor waned, as they turned smilingly to greet the historian of last night.

"I see Mademoiselle is entirely recovered from the seasickness," said he, turning to Lucile. "It is good to see you looking so well."

"Thank you, Monsieur. I suppose you will be glad to get back to France?"

"Oh, very glad, for, though I admire your America, it is not to me like my own country," said he, smiling.

It was not long before they were joined by other excited fellow-pa.s.sengers, all talking at once about what they intended to do upon reaching land, and in the babble it was impossible to carry on any but a disjointed conversation, so the girls wisely gave up trying.

Nevertheless, Lucile had been more deeply impressed than any of the rest by the recital of Monsieur's tragic romance. It seemed, somehow, like the plays their guardian had described to them. Phil, the skeptical, had seemed inclined to think the story over-drawn, but the girls had emphatically disagreed with him, overwhelming him by sheer force of numbers. And way down in Lucile's heart was the hope that she would, sooner or later, hear the finishing chapter of the romance. Whether this premonition was inspired partly by her own desire or partly by the fact that, sooner or later, they would be in France itself, where they would have the opportunity of following the fortunes of the disconsolate Frenchman, cannot be determined, but certain it was, the premonition was there. As she had said to Jessie at the end of a long and excited discussion the night before, "Stranger things have happened."

And so, in the girl's eyes, and, in fact, in the eyes of all who had heard his story, even Phil, the stranger had taken on an added importance, the importance of the chief actor in a romantic drama.

"I would like to help," Lucile murmured, as the Frenchman excused himself and moved off down the deck. "I never saw any one look so wistful in all my life."

"No wonder," said Jessie, in the same tone. "If I had been through all he has, I'd never have lived to tell about it."

"And poor Jeanette!" Lucile mused on. "I'd give almost anything if I could bring them together again."

Jessie glanced at her friend curiously. "Perhaps you will tell me now that my dear old novels always exaggerate," she challenged.

"A little more of this sort of thing and I'll be able to believe anything," Lucile answered, with a rueful smile. "It surely is wonderful!"

"Oh, Lucy, dear, I may convert you yet," Jessie was crying gleefully, when she was interrupted by another crowd of fellow-voyagers, who, for the time being at least, cut her triumph short.