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248 “I see you’re taking Fê-Fê with you,” I remarked.

“To be sure she is,” said Tremaine. “She knows the snake would starve to death if she left it with me. But we must drink to a good voyage.”

He rose and touched the electric button. Cecily followed him with eyes gleaming like two coals of fire. Looking at her, I felt a vague uneasiness—did she have concealed in the bosom of her gown that same revolver—was she only waiting a favourable moment…

“The first toast is yours, Mr. Lester,” said Tremaine, as he filled the glasses.

“To Cecily!” I cried. “Her health, long life, and happiness!”

“Thank you, chè,” she said simply, and very gravely, and we drank it.

Just then a bell sounded loudly from the deck and a voice shouting commands.

“Come, we must be going,” said Tremaine, rising hastily. “That’s the shore bell.”

I passed out first, and for an instant held my breath, expecting I know not what—a dull report—a scream… But in a moment they came out together. Tremaine and I made a rush for the gang-plank, while Cecily again took up her station against the rail. We waved to her and waved again, shouting goodbyes, as the last rope was cast loose, and the steamer began to move away from the dock.

She waved back at us and kissed her hands, looking very beautiful.

Then suddenly her face changed; she swayed and caught at the rail for support.