"She is extremely beautiful in her lines," Louis was declaring. "I am
fond of yachts that are properly built. I am planning one myself, and
each new vessel holds for me a fresh interest."
"Ah, indeed!" The Spaniard was delighted. "Then we have fallen upon a
common enthusiasm. I am never so happy as when talking to a keen
yachtsman." Yet so long as the conversation threatened those nautical
technicalities in which he was utterly deficient, he managed to let the
other do the talking.
Manuel at last set down his cup and, looking up with a flash, as of
sudden inspiration, suggested: "But doubtless you will be stopping in
Monte Carlo a day or two? Possibly you will do me the honor of
inspecting the boat?"
The other protested that his friend was too good. He regarded himself
highly honored. He would be most charmed. But apparently the idea was
developing and Blanco was conceiving even more extended notions of
hospitality.
"Stay!" he suddenly exclaimed. "Why not breakfast with me, on board,
to-morrow at twelve? The launch will be at the landing at eleven
forty-five. I could take you cruising for a few knots, and let you test
her sailing qualities, returning in abundant time for dinner and the
amusements of the evening."
Louis gave the matter a moment's reflection, then declared that the
programme was delightful. He would not be engaged until the evening.
Blanco laughed uproariously. "It is most amusing," he declared. "I have
had supper with you--you are to breakfast with me, and I have not yet
told you my name!" He was searching for a card-case, which seemingly he
had misplaced. "I cannot find a card. No matter, my name is Sir Manuel
Blanco."
The Duke smiled as he rose from the table and took up hat and cane. "I
was equally forgetful," he said. "My name is Monsieur Breuillard."
The following day had advanced well into the afternoon, and Monsieur
Breuillard had punctuated with graceful compliment each point of
excellence in the equipment of the Isis, when Blanco led the way into
the small smoking saloon.
"Sailing qualities may not have been fairly tested," admitted Sir
Manuel, "since the sea was serene, the sky brilliant, and the breeze
insufficient to ruffle the water."
"The more charming, Monsieur!" exclaimed the guest, whose mood after a
pleasing day was mellow and complacent.
Blanco waved Monsieur Breuillard to an easy chair and pointed out
cigars. As chance would have it, he stood before the door, which he had
just closed.