"Yes, it will be better," whispered her companion, cruelly. "Your face
is aflame. You will attract too much attention here, and too much
curiosity. The American naval officers have sharp eyes--sometimes!"
Procuring his companion's wrap at the coatroom, and throwing a light
topcoat about himself, M. Lemaire led the way to a distant settee from
which they could look out over the star lit waters beyond the beach.
The man had an especial reason for choosing this seat. From that place
they could quickly catch sight of anyone who came near enough to
overhear.
"Sara," began M. Lemaire, less brutally than his companion had expected
him to speak, "for once I fear that you are going to fail utterly."
"Then you do, not know me," she replied, with spirit. "I shall win!
I shall have Captain Jack Benson carrying my fan and craving my smile.
And that shall be quickly, too!"
"If you do not succeed, Sara," retorted the man, "then sterner measures
will have to be tried. This youthful Benson may even have to lose his
life in the attempt that must be made, at all hazards, to wrest from him
a set of drawings of the boat he commands, and a description of all her
working parts, and all the secrets of managing the boat!"
"If he could hear you, he would be charmed with the outlook," muttered
the young woman, shrugging her shoulders.
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