CHAPTER III

ON THE EDGE OF THE SPIDER’S WEB

An hour after dinner the orchestra of the Hotel Clayton crashed out into the first two-step.

The big ballroom was already two thirds as well filled as it could be with comfort.  Potted green palms stood everywhere at the sides.  The orchestra in the gallery was nearly concealed behind a fringe of green.  The air was sweetly odorous with the fragrance of southern blossoms.  Scores of young women in all varieties of handsome evening dress enlivened the appearance of the scene.  Their gems cast glitter and enchantment.  There were men enough, too, for partners in the dance, the men behind expanses of white shirt-front and clad in the black of evening dress.

Just a few of the men, however, lent additional color to the scene.  These were officers and midshipmen from the “Waverly,” who came attired in the handsome blue, gold-braided dress uniforms of the service.

Among the guests of the hotel who attended the dance were Jacob Farnum and his two young submarine experts; Jack Benson and Hal Hastings.  The shipbuilder had come ashore with his young friends, registering at the Clayton and taking rooms there.

“It’s time for you youngsters to get ashore and have a little gaiety,” Farnum had declared.  “If you don’t mix with lively people once in a while, you’ll rust even while you keep the ‘Benson’s’ machinery bright.”

Jack and Hal had agreed to this.  Eph, however, had expressed himself decidedly as preferring to remain on board the submarine for the time.  Williamson, too, had elected to remain on board, and so had David Pollard, who rarely cared for anything in the social line.

On the floor, even before the music struck up, was M. Lemaire.  He was in the usual black evening dress, though on his wide shirt front glistened the jeweled decoration of some order conferred upon him by a European sovereign.

A handsome and distinguished figure did M. Lemaire present.  He nodded affably to many of the ladies in passing, and the interest with which his greetings were acknowledged proved that M. Lemaire was in a gathering where he could boast many acquaintances.

Almost at the first, M. Lemaire had succeeded in having Captain Jack Benson pointed out to him.  The tall, sallow man looked over the submarine boys eagerly, though covertly.  He beheld them in handsome dress uniforms, very much like those worn by the naval officers, for Jacob Farnum had insisted that his young submarine officers, wherever they went must be appropriately attired.

In the throng, as M. Lemaire passed, stood one handsomely dressed girl.  Her face, which was interestingly beautiful, had a slightly foreign look.  The jewels that she wore must have cost a fortune.  The girl herself was a finished product in the arts of good breeding and grace.

As M. Lemaire approached her, this girl recognized him with a smile and a half-quizzical look.