"But I can't tell you what it
is until I'm sure it _is_ mine. Is the boat at the wharf?"
"All is arranged," Claire assured him. "The boatmen are our friends;
they will take us safely to the steamer."
With a sigh of relief Billy lifted her valise and his own, but he did
not move forward.
Anxiously Claire pulled at his sleeve.
"Come!" she begged. "For what it is that you wait?"
It was just eight o'clock.
Billy was looking up at the single electric-light bulb that lit the
narrow street, and following the direction of his eyes, Claire saw the
light grow dim, saw the tiny wires grow red, and disappear. From over
all the city came shouts, and cries of consternation, oaths, and
laughter, and then darkness.
"I was waiting for _this_!" cried Billy.
With the delight of a mischievous child Claire laughed aloud.
"_You_--you did it!" she accused.
"I did!" said Billy. "And now--we must run like the devil!"
The _Prinz der Nederlanden_ was drawing slowly out of the harbor.
Shoulder to shoulder Claire and Billy leaned upon the rail. On the
wharfs of Port-au-Prince they saw lanterns tossing and candles
twinkling; saw the _Louisiana_, blazing like a Christmas-tree, steaming
majestically south; in each other's eyes saw that all was well.
Pages:
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162