And by ten o'clock we were quit of
Genoa; the last lean, blue-chinned official had left our decks;
the last fruitseller had been beaten off with bucketsful of water
and left cursing us from his boat; the last passenger had come
aboard at the last moment--a fussy graybeard who kept the big
ship waiting while he haggled with his boatman over half a lira.
But at length we were off, the tug was shed, the lighthouse
passed, and Raffles and I leaned together over the rail, watching
our shadows on the pale green, liquid, veined marble that again
washed the vessel's side.
Von Heumann was having his innings once more; it was part of the
design that he should remain in all day, and so postpone the
inevitable hour; and, though the lady looked bored, and was for
ever glancing in our direction, he seemed only too willing to
avail himself of his opportunities. But Raffles was moody and
ill-at-ease. He had not the air of a successful man. I could
but opine that the impending parting at Naples sat heavily on his
spirit.
He would neither talk to me, nor would he let me go.
"Stop where you are, Bunny. I've things to tell you. Can you
swim?"
"A bit."
"Ten miles?"
"Ten?" I burst out laughing. "Not one! Why do you ask?"
"We shall be within a ten miles' swim of the shore most of the
day."
"What on earth are you driving at, Raffles?"
"Nothing; only I shall swim for it if the worst comes to the
worst.
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