"But I might have gone on misunderstanding and misjudging, putting you down as proud and cold and unsociable, or prejudiced, but for the accident which brought us together, in spite of your determination that we should remain total strangers!"
It was an _accident_ which had made them acquainted, then? He would draw the cheque which contained that episode of his extra time sooner or later; but it was distinctly inconvenient not to have at least _some_ idea of what had happened.
"A fortunate accident for me, at all events!" he said, with a judicious recourse to compliment.
"It might have been a very unfortunate one for poor papa," she said, "but for you. I do believe he would have been quite inconsolable."
Peter felt an agreeable shock. Had he really been fortunate enough to distinguish himself by rescuing the Judge's fair daughter from some deadly peril? It looked very like it. He had often suspected himself of a latent heroism which had never had an opportunity of being displayed. This opportunity must have occurred, and he have proved equal to the occasion, in one of those extra hours!
"I can quite imagine that he would be inconsolable indeed!" he said gallantly. "Fortunately, I was privileged to prevent such a calamity."
"Tell me again exactly _how_ you did it," she said. "I never quite understood."
Peter again took refuge in a discreet vagueness.
"Oh," he replied, modestly, "there's not much to tell. I saw the--er--danger, and knew there wasn't a moment to lose; and then I sprang forward, and--well, you know the rest as well as I do!"
"You only just caught him as he was going up the rigging, didn't you?" she asked.
So it was the Judge he had saved--not his daughter! Peter felt a natural disappointment. But he saw the state of the case now: a powerful judicial intellect overstrained, melancholia, suicidal impulses--it was all very sad; but, happily, he had succeeded in saving this man to his country.
"I--ventured to detain him," he said, considerately, "seeing that he was--er--rather excited."
"But weren't you afraid he would bite you?"
"No," said Peter, pained at this revelation of the Judge's condition, "that possibility did _not_ occur to me. In fact, I am sure that--er--though the strongest intellects are occasionally subject to attacks of this sort, he would never so far forget himself as to--er--bite a complete stranger."