'And who kept you from coming out?' asked Fleming.
'It is none of your business,' she replied tartly.
'If you will believe me,' said Kenyon at last, 'I had absolutely no knowledge of all this; so, you see, there is no use speaking to me about it. I won't pretend I am sorry, because I am not.'
This added fuel to the flames, and she was about to blaze out again, when Kenyon, turning on his heel, left her and Fleming standing facing each other. Then the young woman herself turned and quickly departed, leaving the bewildered politician entirely alone, so that there was nothing for him to do but to go into the smoking-room and ask somebody else to drink with him, which he promptly did.
Miss Brewster made her way to the captain's room and rapped at the door. On being told to enter, she found that officer seated at his table with some charts before him, and a haggard look upon his face, which might have warned her that this was not the proper time to air any personal grievances.
'Well?' he said briefly as she entered.
'I came to see you, captain,' she began, 'because an outrageous thing has been done on board this ship, and I desire reparation. What is more, I will have it!
'What is the "outrageous thing"?' asked the captain.
'I had some despatches to send to New York, to the New York Argus, on whose staff I am.'
'Yes,' said the captain with interest; 'despatches relating to what has happened to the ship?'
'One of them did, the other did not.'
'Well, I hope,' said the captain, 'you have not given an exaggerated account of the condition we are in.'
'I have given no account at all, simply because I was prevented from sending the cablegrams.'
'Ah, indeed,' said the captain, a look of relief coming over his face, in spite of his efforts to conceal it; 'and pray what prevented you from sending your cablegrams? The mate would have taken any messages that were given to him.'
'I know that,' cried the young woman; 'but when I was in my room writing the last of the despatches, a person who is on board as a passenger here—Miss Longworth—came into my room and held me prisoner there until the boat had left the ship.'
The captain arched his eyebrows in surprise.
'My dear madam,' he said, 'you make a very serious charge. Miss Longworth has crossed several times with me, and I am bound to say that a better-behaved young lady I never had on board my ship.'
'Extremely well behaved she is!' cried the correspondent angrily, 'she stood against my door and prevented me from going out. I screamed for help, but my screams were drowned in the cheers of the passengers when the boat left.'
'Why did you not ring your bell?'
'I couldn't ring my bell because she prevented me. Besides, if I had reached the bell, it is not likely anybody would have answered it; everybody seemed to be bawling after the boat that was leaving.'
'You can hardly blame them for that. A great deal depends on the safety of that boat. In fact, if you come to think about it, you will see that whatever grievance you may have, it is, after all, a very trivial one compared with the burden that weighs on me just now, and I should much prefer not to have anything to do with disputes between the passengers until we are out of our present predicament.'
'The predicament has nothing whatever to do with it. I tell you a fact. I tell you that one of your passengers came and imprisoned me in my state-room. I come to you for redress. Now, there must be some law on shipboard that takes the place of ordinary law on land. I make this demand officially to you. If you decline to hear me, and refuse to redress my wrong, then I have public opinion, to which I can appeal through my paper, and perhaps there will also be a chance of obtaining justice through the law of the land to which I am going.'
'My dear madam,' said the captain calmly, 'you must not use threats to me. I am not accustomed to be addressed in the tone you have taken upon yourself to use. Now tell me what it is you wish me to do?'
'It is for you to say what you will do. I am a passenger on board this ship, and am supposed to be under the protection of its captain. I therefore tell you I have been forcibly detained in my state-room, and I demand that the person who did this shall be punished.'
'You say that Miss Longworth is the person who did this?'
'Yes, I do.'
'Now, do you know you make a serious charge against that young lady—a charge that I find it remarkably difficult to believe? May I ask you what reason she had for doing what you say she has done?'
'That is a long story. I am quite prepared to show that she tried to bribe me not to send a despatch, and, finding herself unsuccessful, she forcibly detained me in my room until too late to send the telegram.'
The captain pondered over what had been said to him.
'Have you any proof of this charge?'
'Proof! What do you mean? Do you doubt my word?'
'I mean exactly what I say. Have you anybody to prove the exceedingly serious charge you bring?'
'Certainly not. I have no proof. If there had been a witness there, the thing would not have happened. If I could have summoned help, it would not have happened. How could I have any proof of such an outrage?'
'Well, do you not see that it is impossible for me to take action on your unsupported word? Do you not see that, if you take further steps in this extraordinary affair, Miss Longworth will ask you for proof of what you state? If she denies acting as you say she did, and you fail to prove your allegation, it seems to me that you will be in rather a difficult position. You would be liable to a suit for slander. Just think the matter over calmly for the rest of the day before you take any further action upon it, and I would strongly advise you not to mention this to anyone on board. Then to-morrow, if you are still in the same frame of mind, come to me.'
Thus dismissed, the young woman left the captain's room, and met Fleming just outside, who said:
'Look here, Miss Brewster, I want to have a word with you. You were very curt with me just now.'
'Mr. Fleming, I do not wish to speak to you.'
'Oh, that's all right—that's all right; but let me tell you this: you're a pretty smart young woman, and you have done me one or two very evil turns in your life. I have found out all about this affair, and it's one of the funniest things I ever heard of.'
'Very funny, isn't it?' snapped the young woman.
'Of course it's very funny; but when it appears in full in the opposition papers to the Argus, perhaps you won't see the humour of it—though everybody else in New York will, that's one consolation.'
'What do you mean?'
'I mean to say, Jennie Brewster, that unless you are a fool, you will drop this thing. Don't, for Heaven's sake, let anybody know you were treated by an English girl in the way you were. Take my advice: say no more about it.'
'And what business is it of yours?'
'It
