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"I'm sure it is. You have a crew?"
"Of course. Colonel ... I mean Captain Macklem has taken care of all that.
He's very efficient."
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"And so handsome!" Helen exclaimed.
I paused, not sure how to proceed. Tabitha Majoribanks looked at me
expectantly. "This Colonel Macklem," I said, "is the man who killed Sam
Purdy."
"Who had first attacked Colonel Macklem."
"No doubt. I was thinking of the manner of it. Also, he was on the road in
Maine when Foulsham, the young British officer, was killed."
Tabitha Majoribanks knew where the conversation was going now, and her eyes
were chilly. "And you, Mr. Daniel? Were you not on that road also?"
"Yes. I was. But Foulsham was alive when I found him."
"And did he accuse Colonel Macklem?" Her tone was cold.
"No, but "
She stood up. "Mr. Daniel, I have no idea what you hoped to gain by coming
here, nor what you wish me to believe. But if you are jealous of "
"Jealous?" I remained seated. "And why should I be jealous? What reason could
I possibly have?"
Her cheeks flushed, and her eyes narrowed to pinpoints. Oh, she had a fine
anger, this Tabitha Majoribanks! And when angry she was remarkably handsome,
too. Beautiful was not quite the word at the moment.
I got up then, and before she could speak, I said quietly, "You believe your
brother has come upon something important to your country. Mr. Foulsham was
pursuing a man, or at least investigating one, who had betrayed his country, a
notorious adventurer.
"At this moment, a certain Torville is recruiting all the riffraff he can
find, with a view, we believe, to seizing the Louisiana Territory. Colonel
Macklem, with a considerable group of riffraff, is now going aboard your
steamer. If your boat is the easiest way to the western lands for you, it is
the same for him ... for them."
"You are accusing him?" Her eyes were furious.
"No. I have not sufficient evidence. What I am suggesting is that you find
another crew. Find one known to local people, and a captain known to local
people."
"You have not sufficient evidence! I should thinknot. All you have is
supposition and your own dislike for him. I'm sorry, Helen, but I can no
longer remain in the room with this man."
"I'm leaving." I turned to Helen. "I am sorry. I had information. I hoped she
would listen, but I did not mean to disrupt your breakfast."
She walked to the door with me. "You will come again, won't you? And please
... don't take offense. I have never seen her so angry before. She must like
you a great deal."
"Like me? She detests the ground I walk on."
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Helen laughed. "I doubt it. It was what you said about no reason for jealousy
that really burned. Do come again, Mr. Daniel."
"Call me Jean," I said. "That's really my name."
I walked back slowly, turning the whole affair over in my mind.
My efforts had been useless. Now she was angry, and if I was any judge of
people, the last thing she would think of doing would be to rid herself of
Macklem. I had really made things worse, for all my good intentions.
Macaire. I must warn Macaire.
Suddenly, I was alert. I must move with caution. Those two men who'd
confronted me outside the inn had not been there by accident, but obviously to
prevent me from doing just what I'd done. Only I'd made a proper mess of it.
Macklem, or somebody close to him for whom he was acting, certainly believed
that I knew more than I did. No doubt, he suspected I could go to them with
concrete information, and wished to prevent that.
Butlin was loafing on Water Street, obviously watching for me. He sauntered
along toward me. "Looks like you had trouble," he said.
"No trouble," I said.
"But a man at the inn said you were jumped by two thugs."
"Oh, that!" I grinned at him. "That was nothing to what I ran into when I
tried to warn Miss Majoribanks about Macklem."
Briefly, I explained. Butlin stood quiet, listening. He was a good listener,
Butlin was, and a man who remembered, but above all, as I was learning, he was
a man who knew how to act on what he had learned. Many men have information,
but few know how to use it to advantage.
"So what do we do now? Jambe-de-Bois is worried."
"I want to talk to Macaire. Find him for me, will you? I shall change
clothes."
My room was quiet. From my window I could see theWestern Engineer. From my
packsack I got out my telescope and studied the steamboat.
A man was standing on a skiff painting over the ship's name. Several men were
walking up the gangway carrying boxes and bales. Macklem was wasting no time.
A wagon pulled by two horses had drawn up near the gangway. The back of the
wagon was covered with a tarpaulin, and as I watched, several men surrounded [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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