“He looks keen and strong; a bold man and true,” gently said the Count with almost a sigh. “Sportsman?”
“I don’t quite know, Count. I think he went out to explore the Soudan and the Blue Nile country, if I remember correctly. He comes of a very fine family--a man of rare good judgment and the very man to have around when trouble is brewing. Some time I will tell you how I met him. If you’ll permit me, Count, I’ll now look up that pilot. We are getting under way. Good evening, Excellency!”
“Au revoir, Captain. I shall have to interview the chief steward and see if Dr. Brown will allow me another meal to-day.”
Now that he was once again alone, the Count forgot the evening meal, forgot the steward and the man he just had met--he had weightier matters on his mind. This man of the world, trained to think while chatting and seemingly enjoying small talk--this old diplomat realized that he had arrived at a parting of the ways. The oppressive heat of earlier day had yielded somewhat to the gentle breeze rising from the ever-nearing mountainous shore. A brilliant crimson band silhouetted sharply the deep purple of Ras Séan, the bluish haze half hid the frowning abrupt cliffs of Perim Island; the first twinkle of the lighthouse shone like a firefly, coming and going in rhythmic flashes. To the north the broad dome of Disohebel Menghéli rose high, the towering guardian of the strait, the dread of the unwary skipper. Over the ultramarine hills rose the red moon of the silent East, mysterious and alluring, the light of the romantic night. Count Rondell, obeying the promptings of weary limbs, sank into his seat and gazed as if fascinated into the glory of the tropical eve.
The world was so beautiful and life so promising! Moments of the years gone by passed in rapid succession through his mind; the days of youth and hope--the years of ambition and fulfillment. The shadows of beloved faces rose to disappear; the joy of deeds performed, the regret of acts omitted. As in a panorama he saw his life over again and lived it once more.
A flock of buzzards flying across the hazy light of the moon that looked for all the world like a flattened giant orange, by a curious disconnection of the phenomenon so well known to him, awoke him to the present; to the warning he had received, to the call of a life which was to end. A slight tremor passed over the frame of the man, who seemed to have aged considerably within the last hour.
