Really, considering that he had been so near death that morning, he had a good deal to be thankful for if he never saw Cartagena or the Los Andes ranch again.
As for the marriage, what of it? A knot so easily tied could be untied with equal readiness. He hadn't the least doubt but that an American court of law would declare the ceremony illegal.
At any rate, he could jump that fence when he reached it. At present, in sporting phrase, he was going strong with a lot in hand.
He kept well out of sight when a government launch came off, and a port official boarded the vessel.
He never knew what a narrow escape he had when the chief steward who acted as purser, was asked if any new addition had been made to the passenger list. The ship's officer was not a good Spanish scholar. He thought the question applied to the cargo, and answered "no."
Then, after a wait that seemed interminable, the snorting and growling of a steam winch and the unwilling rasp of the anchor chain chanted a symphonic chorus in Maseden's ears. Those harsh sounds sang of freedom and life, of golden years on a most excellent earth instead of an eternity in the grave. He came on deck to watch the Castle of San Juan dwindle and vanish in the deep, blue glamour of a perfect tropical night.
He was standing on the open part of the main deck, close to the fore hold, when he heard English voices from the promenade deck high above his head.
A man's somewhat querulous accents reached him first.
"Well, at this time two days ago, I little thought I'd be on a steamer going south to-night," said the speaker.
There was no answer, though it was evident that the petulant philosopher was not addressing the silent air.
"I suppose you girls are still mooning about that fellow getting away from the Castle?" grumbled the same voice. "I tell you he has no earthly chance of winning clear. Steinbaum will see to that. His record is none too good, and a question in the American Senate would just about finish him, even in San Juan. So Mr. Philip Alexander Maseden might just as well have been shot yesterday morning as to-day or to-morrow. They're hot on his track now, Steinbaum told me--
"Eh? Yes, I know he did _me_ a good turn, but, damn it all, that was merely because he was going to die, not because he was a first-rate life for an insurance office. It was no business of mine that he and Suarez couldn't agree.... Oh, let's go to our cabins! Tears always put my nerves on a raw edge! Anyone would think you had lost a real husband on your wedding day!"