"In that case we should be lost men," Browne replied. "No; whatever we do, we must avoid coming into actual conflict with the Authorities. By the way, what about Maas?"
"I saw him this morning," Foote replied. "I told him what arrangements we had made, and he will meet us whenever and wherever we wish. He seemed quite elated over the prospect of the voyage, and told me he thought it awfully good of you to take him. After all, he's not a bad sort of fellow. There is only one thing I don't like about him, and that is his predilection for wishing people to think he is in a delicate state of health."
"And you don't think he is?" said Browne.
"Of course I don't," Jimmy replied. "Why, only this morning I was with him more than an hour, and he didn't cough once; and yet he was continually pointing out to me that it was so necessary for his health--for his lungs, in fact---that he should go out of England at once. It is my idea that he is hypochondriacal."
"Whatever he is, I wish to goodness he had chosen any other time for wanting to accompany us. I have a sort of notion that his presence on board will bring us bad luck."
"Nonsense," said his matter-of-fact friend. "Why should it? Maas could do us no harm, even supposing he wanted to. And he's certain not to have any desire that way."
"Well," answered Browne, "that is what I feel, and yet I can't make out why I should do so." As he said this he pressed the ring Katharine had given him, and remembered that that was his talisman, and that she had told him that, while he wore it, he could come to no harm. With that on his finger, and his love for her in his heart, it would be wonderful indeed if he could not fulfil the task he had set himself to do.
It is strange how ignorant we are of the doings, and indeed of the very lives, of our fellow-men. I do not mean the actions which, in the broad light of day, lie in the ordinary routine of life, but those more important circumstances which are not seen, but make up, and help to weave the skein of each man's destiny. For instance, had a certain well-known official in the office of the Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs, who stood upon the platform of Waterloo station, waiting for the train that was to carry him to the residence of a friend at Woking, dreamt for an instant that the three gentlemen he nodded so affably to, and who were standing at the door of a saloon carriage in the same train, were leaving England next day, in order to cause considerable trouble to a Power that, at the moment had shown signs of being friendly, what would his feelings have been? He did not know it, however; so he seated himself in his comfortable smoking-carriage, lit a cigar, and read his Sunday paper, quite unconscious of the circumstances.