me. The British
officers were on board, he forthwith informed us, and were demanding,
in accordance with the martial law now reigning at Gibraltar, a sight of
each passenger and his passport before the ship should proceed.

CHAPTER VI

THUMBSCREWS

The salon of conversation, as the mirrored, gilded, and highly varnished
apartment was grandiloquently termed, had been the very spot chosen for
our presumably not very terrible ordeal. Things were well under way.
At the desk in the corner one officer was jotting down notes as to the
clearance papers and the cargo; while at a table in the foreground sat
his comrade, in a lieutenant's uniform, with the captain of the _Re
d'Italia_ at his right, swart-faced and silent, and the list of the
passengers lying before the pair.

As I entered a few moments behind Van Blarcom, I perceived that the
interrogation had already run a partial course. Pietro Ricci, the
reservist, had, no doubt, emerged with flying colors and now stood
against the wall beside the doughty agent of the Phillipson Rifles, who
had apparently satisfied his inquisitor, too. Near the door a group of
stewards had clustered to watch with interest; and as I stood waiting,
the girl in furs came in.

I put myself a hypothetical query.

"If a girl," I thought, "materializes from the void, asks an
incriminating favor, and vanishes, does that put one on bowing terms
with her when one meets her again?" Evidently it did, for she smiled
brightly and graciously and bent her ruddy head. But she was pale, I
noticed critically; there was apprehension in her eyes. Wasn't it odd
that the prospect of a few simple questions from an officer should
disconcert her when she had possessed the courage, or the foolhardiness,
to sail on this line at this time?

Really I could not deny that all I had seen of her was most suspicious.
For aught I knew, the secret-service man might be absolutely right. I
had treated him outrageously. I owed him an apology, doubtless. But
I still felt furious with him, and when she looked anxiously at those
officers, I felt furious with them too.

Van Blarcom, his brief questioning ended, was turning from the table. As
he passed, I made a point of smiling companionably at the girl.

"Now for the rack, the cord, and the thumbscrews," I murmured to her,
making way.

The lieutenant was a tall, lean, muscular young man with a shrewd tanned
face in which his eyes showed oddly blue, and he half rose, civ