The Stolen Sapphire. Sarah Masters Buckey

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ she offered. “Would you mind if I had it for the second half?”

      “I wouldn’t mind at all,” Nellie said as she sank down on the lower berth. “But I’d rather take this bed first.”

      Samantha noticed that Nellie looked pale. “What’s wrong?”

      “I think…” Nellie glanced out the window at the churning seas, then groaned and buried her face in the pillow. “I think it’s the ocean!”

      At exactly seven o’clock, the Admiral knocked on the cabin door to escort the ladies to the dining room. Mademoiselle Étienne opened the door. “Ah, Samantha,” she said, smiling, “it is your grand-père.”

      “Grand-père!” the Admiral exclaimed. He looked very distinguished in his black evening suit and topcoat. “Why, I like the sound of that even better than ‘the Admiral.’”

      “Bonsoir, Grand-père!” Samantha said with a polite curtsy. She was wearing a crimson satin dress, white lace gloves, and her new black high-button boots, all polished and shiny. But she was the only one in the cabin ready to go out for dinner.

      “Please excuse us, sir, but Nellie and I both have the mal de mer,” Mademoiselle Étienne explained to the Admiral. “I think it would be best if we did not go to dinner tonight.”

      “Well, Samantha, your grandmother is a bit seasick, too, so it will be just the two of us,” the Admiral said. He bowed and held out his arm. “Shall we go?”

      Samantha felt elegant as she walked up to the main deck with her grandfather, her gloved hand resting lightly on his arm. They passed by the first-class dining room, which looked dark and deserted. The Admiral said that, since there were only about a dozen first-class passengers on this voyage, they all would be eating in the Captain’s own dining room.

      Farther down the hall, the Admiral opened a door labeled Private Dining Room. He ushered Samantha into a warm room that smelled temptingly of roasted turkey. A large round table filled most of the room. Silverware and crystal glasses gleamed on the table, which was covered with a delicate lace tablecloth laid over a starched linen cloth. The only illumination in the room came from the center of the table, where several candles burned in the branches of a silver candelabra.

      Light from the candles danced on the faces gathered around the table. A distinguished-looking man with steel-gray hair and a short beard stood up as Samantha and her grandfather entered the room. “Admiral Beemis!” he said, smiling. “It’s good to see you again after all these years, sir. I’m honored to have you and your family aboard my ship.”

      “Jolly good to sail with you, Captain Newman,” declared the Admiral as the two men shook hands. The Captain introduced the Admiral and Samantha to Mr. and Mrs. Billingsley and Charlotta, and Samantha took a seat between her grandfather and Charlotta. Then she heard a clamor near the door.

      Samantha looked up and saw Harry with a much older man, who she thought must be his uncle. Both men wore wire-rimmed glasses and formal dinner jackets with white bow ties, but unlike Harry, who was tall and handsome, Professor Wharton was short and round. He had pink cheeks and was bald, except for a fringe of white hair above his ears.

      A blond man in a tweed jacket was following close behind Harry and his uncle. “Excuse me, Professor Wharton, I’m Jack Jackson, reporter for the New York Daily Journal,” he announced in a rapid-fire voice. “I booked a ticket on this ship just so I could do a special story about the Blue Star sapphire. I have a couple of questions for you—”

      “Excuse me, Mr. Jackson, my uncle is about to have dinner,” Harry said stiffly, towering over the reporter.

      The reporter pulled out his pencil and notepad eagerly. He was small and wiry, and he reminded Samantha of an energetic terrier. “This will take just a few minutes,” he assured Harry. Then he turned back to Professor Wharton. “Sir, what about the Blue Star’s history of bringing bad luck to whoever carries it? Will its bad luck follow it across the ocean?”

      Captain Newman nodded to a steward, who stepped forward and grasped the reporter’s arm. “This dining room is reserved for first-class passengers only, sir.”

      “I’ll talk with you later, Professor,” the reporter called over his shoulder as the steward escorted him out of the dining room.

      Professor Wharton and Harry took seats across the table from Samantha. She wondered where Plato was, and Harry seemed to read her mind. “Plato felt a bit under the weather,” he told her. “We had to leave him in the cabin.”

      “Yes, he wasn’t himself at all, poor little fellow,” agreed the Professor, pushing his glasses up on his nose. “I wouldn’t have guessed that a monkey would become seasick. Fascinating how human they are, isn’t it?”

      Two stewards in white jackets began serving the dinner’s first course, a steaming clam chowder. Samantha had never tried clam chowder before and she took her first sip cautiously. “This is delicious,” she said.

      “It’s not bad,” Charlotta agreed. “Where’s your sister Ellie?”

      “Nellie,” Samantha corrected her. “She’s not feeling well.”

      “Many people don’t do well on ships, especially at first,” said Charlotta authoritatively. She took another spoonful of chowder. “How old is Nellie?”

      “Eleven, like me.”

      Charlotta studied her. “You don’t look like twins,” she said.

      “We’re adopted sisters.”

      “Adopted?” Charlotta echoed. She continued to ask questions until Samantha had to explain how Nellie, Bridget, and Jenny had been adopted by Uncle Gard and Aunt Cornelia.

      “Your aunt and uncle adopted servant girls?” Charlotta looked shocked.

      “They’re not servants now—we’re all a family,” Samantha said, feeling increasingly uncomfortable with the conversation. She was glad when the stewards brought in the turkey, stuffing, and cranberry sauce. As she bent over her plate, she heard Mrs. Billingsley ask the Professor, “Is it true the sapphire brings bad luck wherever it goes? How thrilling!”

      “No, Madam,” the Professor said, shaking his head so hard that his glasses shifted. “That’s all entirely foolish superstition.”

      Mrs. Billingsley, a plump woman who was wearing an impressive diamond necklace, looked a bit disappointed until Harry spoke up. “Surely, Uncle, you will admit that the Blue Star sapphire has had a long and, ah, interesting history.”

      The Professor put down his knife and fork. “Well, yes,” he confessed, pushing his glasses back up on his nose. “It’s quite shocking how many people have committed crimes to obtain the Blue Star. A merchant is said to have killed his brother over it. And a princess paid a fortune for the Blue Star and then disappeared quite mysteriously. And, of course, the whole reason the Blue Star ended up in a graveyard halfway around the world was because—”

      The Professor suddenly noticed that all other conversation at the table had stopped. Everyone was listening intently to him. His cheeks turned even pinker. “But this is hardly a suitable topic for dinner, especially with children present,” he apologized. “The jewel’s real importance is historical. It was prized by kings СКАЧАТЬ