In a moment I was on my
feet--but, no--to surprise him would be to make him suspect! I called
a steward.
"Take this card up to Monsieur Martigny," I said, "in 375, and ask if
he is well enough to see me."
As he hurried away, a sudden doubt seized me; horrified at my
hardihood, I opened my mouth to call him back. But I did not call:
instead, I sank back into my chair and stared out across the water.
Had I done well? Was it wise to tempt Providence? Would I prove a
match for my enemy? The next half hour would tell. Perhaps he would
not see me; he could plead illness; he might be really too ill.
"Monsieur Martigny," said the steward's voice at my elbow, "answers
that he will be most pleased to see Monsieur Lester at once."
CHAPTER XVI
I Beard the Lion
Martigny was lying back in his berth, smoking a cigarette, and, as I
entered, he motioned me to a seat on the locker against the wall.
"It was most kind of you to come," he said, with his old smile.
"It was only by accident I learned you were on board," I explained, as
I sat down. "You're getting better?"
"I believe so; though this physician is--what you call--an
alarmist--most of them are, indeed; the more desperate the illness,
the more renowned the cure! Is it not so? He has even forbidden me
cigarettes, but I prefer to die than to do without them.
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