IV
QUEENSTOWN
Immediately he had allowed himself to be persuaded, Staff felt sure heshould not have agreed to change his seat to the table occupied by Mrs.Ilkington's party, especially if he meant sincerely to try to do anyreal work aboard the Autocratic; and it wasn't long after he had takenhis place for the first dinner that he was convinced that he hadblundered beyond remedy or excuse.
The table was round and seated seven, though when the party hadassembled there remained two vacant places. Staff was assigned the chairon Mrs. Ilkington's right and was sensitive to a not over subtleimplication that his was the seat of honour. He would cheerfully haveexchanged it for a place on the lady's left, which would have afforded achance to talk to Miss Searle, to whom he earnestly desired to make anexplanation and such amends as she would permit. But a male person namedBangs, endowed with impressive self-assurance, altogether too muchgood-looks (measured by the standards of the dermatological instituteadvertisements) and no excess baggage in the way of intellect, sat onMrs. Ilkington's left, with Miss Searle beyond him. The latter hadsuffered Staff to be presented to her with (he fancied) considerablerepressed amusement. Not that he blamed her, but ...
His position was rendered unhappy to the verge of being impossible,however, by the lady on his own right, a Mrs. Thataker: darklytemperamental and buxom, a divorcee and (she lost no time in tellinghim) likewise a playwright. True, none of her plays had ever beenproduced; but that was indisputably due to a managerial conspiracy; whatshe really needed was a friend at court--some clever man having "the earof the manager." (Staff gathered that a truly clever man could warm up aplay and pour it into the ear of the managers like laudanum andsweet-oil.) With such a man, he was given to understand, Mrs. Thatakerwouldn't mind collaborating; she had manuscripts in her steamer-trunkwhich were calculated to prove a number of things ...
And while he was easing away and preparing to run before the wind toescape any such hideous complication, he was abruptly brought upall-standing by the information that the colour of the lady's soul waspink. She knew this to be a fact beyond dispute, because she nevercould do her best work save when garbed exclusively in pink. Sheenumerated several articles of wearing apparel not customarily discussedbetween comparative strangers but which--always provided they werepink--she held indispensable to the task of dramatic composition.
In his great agony, happening to glance in Miss Searle's direction, hesaw her with head bent and eyelids lowered, lips compressed, colour atrifle heightened, shoulders suspiciously a-quiver.
Incongruously, the impression obtruded that they were unusually handsomeshoulders.
For that matter, she was an unusually handsome young woman: tall, fair,with a face featured with faint, exquisite irregularity, brown eyes andbrows in striking contrast to the rich golden colour of her hair;well-poised and balanced--sure but not too conscious of herself ...
Staff heard himself saying "Beg pardon?" to a third repetition of one ofMrs. Thataker's gratuitous revelations.
At this he took fright, drew back into his reserve for the remainder ofthe meal, and as soon as he decently could, made his excuses and fled tojoin Iff in the smoking-room....
He found the little man indulging his two passions; he was drinkingwhiskey-and-sodas and playing bridge, both in the most masterly fashion.Staff watched the game a while and then, the opportunity offering, cutin. He played till ten o'clock, at which hour, wearied, he yielded hisseat to another, leaving Mr. Iff the victor of six rubbers and twelvewhiskey-and-sodas. As Staff went out on deck the little man cut for theseventh and ordered the thirteenth. Neither indulgence seemed to havehad any perceptible effect upon him.
Staff strolled forward, drinking in air that seemed the sweeter bycontrast with the reeking room he had just quitted. The wind hadfreshened since nightfall; it blew strong and cool, but not keen. Andthere was more motion in the seas that sang overside, wrapped inCimmerian blackness. The sky had become overcast; there were no stars:only the 'longshore lights of Ireland twinkled, small, bright,incredibly distant over the waters. The decks were softly aglow withelectric lights, lending a deeper shade of velvety denseness to thenight beyond the rails.
He hadn't moved far forward when his quick sight picked out the shimmerof a woman's hair, like spun gold, about amidships in the rank ofdeck-chairs. He made sure it was Miss Searle; and it was. She sat alone,with none near her, her head resting against the back of the chair, herface turned a trifle forward; so that she was unaware of his approachuntil he stopped before her.
"Miss Searle--" he began diffidently.
She looked up quickly and smiled in what he thought a friendly way.
"Good evening," said she; and moved her body slightly in the deck-chair,turning a little to the left as if expecting him to take the vacantchair on that hand.
He did so without further encouragement, and abruptly found himselfwholly lacking words wherewith to phrase what he had in mind to say. Insuch emergency he resorted to an old, tried and true trick of his andbegan to talk on the first subject, unrelated to his dilemma, thatpopped into his head.
"Are you a good sailor?" he enquired gravely.
The girl nodded. "Very."
"Not afraid of seasickness?"
"No. Why?"
"Because," said Staff soberly, "I've been praying for a hurricane."
She nodded again without speaking, her eyes alone questioning.
"Mrs. Thataker," he pursued evenly, "confided to me at dinner that sheis a very poor sailor indeed."
Miss Searle laughed quietly. "You desire a punishment to fit thecrime."
"There are some crimes for which no adequate punishment has ever beencontrived," he returned, beginning to see his way, and at the same timebeginning to think himself uncommonly clever.
"Oh!" said Miss Searle with a little laugh. "Now if you're leading up toa second apology about that question of the bandbox, you needn't,because I've forgiven you already."
He glanced at her reproachfully. "You just naturally had to beat me tothat, didn't you?" he complained. "All the same, it _was_ inexcusable ofme."
"Oh, no; I quite understood."
"You see," he persisted obstinately, "I really did think it was mybandbox. I actually have got one with me, precisely like yours."
"I quite believed you the first time."
Something in her tone moved him to question her face sharply; but hefound her shadowed eyes inscrutable.
"I half believe you know something," he ventured, perplexed.
"Perhaps," she nodded, with an enigmatic smile.
"What do you know?"
"Why," she said, "it was simple enough. I happened to be in Lucille'syesterday afternoon when a hat was ordered delivered to you."
"You were! Then you know who sent it to me?"
"Of course." Her expression grew curious. "Don't you?"
"No," he said excitedly. "Tell me."
But she hesitated. "I'm not sure I ought ..."
"Why not?"
"It's none of my affair--"
"But surely you must see ... Listen: I'll tell you about it." Henarrated succinctly the intrusion of the mysterious bandbox into hisken, that morning. "Now, a note was promised; it must have miscarried.Surely, there can be no harm in your telling me. Besides, I've a rightto know."
"Possibly ... but I'm not sure I've a right to tell. Why should I be aspoil-sport?"
"You mean," he said thoughtfully--"you think it's some sort of apractical joke?"
"What do you think?"
"_Hmm-mm_," said Staff. And then, "I don't like to be made fun of," heasserted, a trace sulkily.
"You are certainly a dangerously original man," said MissSearle--"almost abnormal."
"The most unkindest slam of all," he murmured.
He made himself look deeply hurt. The girl laughed softly. He thought itrather remarkable that they should enjoy so sympathetic a sense ofhumour on such short acquaintance....
"But you forgive me?"
"Oh,
yes," he said generously; "only, of course, I couldn't help feelingit a bit--coming from _you_."
"From me?" Miss Searle sat up in her deck-chair and turned to him. "Mr.Staff! you're not flirting with me?"
"Heaven forfend!" he cried, so sincerely that both laughed.
"Because," said she, sinking back, "I must warn you that Mrs. Ilkingtonhas been talking ..."
"Oh," he groaned from his heart--"damn that woman!"
There was an instant of silence; then he stole a contrite look at herimmobile profile and started to get up.
"I--Miss Searle," he stammered--"I beg your pardon ..."
"Don't go," she said quietly; "that is, unless you want to. My silencewas simply sympathetic."
He sat back. "Thank you," he said with gratitude; and for some secondsconsidered the case of Mrs. Ilkington, not charitably but with murder inhis bosom. "Do you mean," he resumed presently, "she has--ah--connectedmy name with--"
"Yes," nodded the girl.
"'Something lingering in boiling oil,'" he mused aloud, presently...."What staggers me is how she found out; I was under the impression thatonly the persons most concerned knew about it."
"Then it's true? You are engaged to marry Miss Landis? Or is that animpertinent question?" Without pause the girl answered herself: "Ofcourse it is; only I couldn't help asking. Please forget I spoke--"
"Oh, I don't mind," he said wearily; "now that Mrs. Ilkington has begunto distribute handbills. Only ... I don't know that there's a regular,hard-and-fast engagement: just an understanding."
"Thank you," said Miss Searle. "I promise not to speak of it again." Shehesitated an instant, then added: "To you or anybody else."
"You see," he went on after a little, "I've been working on a play forMiss Landis, under agreement with Jules Max, her manager. They want touse it to open Max's newest Broadway theatre late this autumn. That'swhy I came across--to find a place in London to bury myself in and workundisturbed. It means a good deal to me--to all of us--this play.... Butwhat I'm getting at is this: Alison--Miss Landis--didn't leave theStates this summer; Mrs. Ilkington (she told me at dinner) left New Yorkbefore I did. So how in Heaven's name--?"
"I had known nothing of Mrs. Ilkington at all," said Miss Searlecautiously, "until we met in Paris last month."
He was conscious of the hint of uneasiness in her manner, but inclinedto assign it to the wrong cause.
"I trust I haven't bored you, Miss Searle--talking about myself."
"Oh, no; indeed no. You see--" she laughed--"I quite understand; I keepa temperament of my own--if you should happen to wonder why Mrs.Ilkington interests herself in me. I'm supposed to have a voice and tobe in training for grand opera."
"Not really?"
And again she laughed. "I'm afraid there isn't any cure for me at thislate date," she protested; "I've gone so far I must go farther. But Iknow what you mean. People who sing _are_ difficult. However ..." Shestirred restlessly in her chair, then sat up.
"What is that light over there?" she asked. "Do you know?"
Staff's gaze sought the indicated direction. "Roches Point, I imagine;we're about due at Queenstown ..."
"As late as that?" The girl moved as if to rise. Staff jumped up andoffered her a hand. In a moment she was standing beside him. "I must gobelow," said she. "Good night."
"You won't tell me who it was in Lucille's, yesterday?" he harked backpleadingly.
She shook her head gaily as she turned forward to the main companionwayentrance: "No; you must find out for yourself."
"But perhaps it isn't a practical joke?"
"Then--_perhaps_--I shall tell you all--sometime."
He paused by the raised door-sill as she stepped within thesuperstructure. "Why not stop up and see the tender come off?" hesuggested. "It might be interesting."
She flashed him a look of gay malice. "If we're to believe Mrs.Ilkington, you're apt to find it more interesting than I. Good night."
"Oh--good night!" he muttered, disturbed; and turned away to the rail.
His troubled vision ranged far to the slowly shifting shore lights. Thebig steamship had come very close inshore--as witness the retarded speedwith which she crept toward her anchorage--but still the lights, for alltheir singular brightness, seemed distant, incalculably far away; thegulf of blackness that set them apart exaggerated all distances tenfold.The cluster of sparks flanked by green and red that marked the hoveringtender appeared to float at an infinite remove, invisibly buoyed uponthe bosom of a fathomless void of night.
Out of this wind-swept waste of impenetrable darkness was to come theanswer to these many questions that perplexed him--perhaps. Something atleast would come to influence him; or else Mrs. Ilkington's promise hadbeen mere _blague_.... Then what?
Afterwards he assured himself that his stupidity had been unparalleledinconceivable. And indeed there seems to be some colour of excuse forthis drastic stricture, self-inflicted though it were.
Below him, on the main deck, a squad of deckhands superintended by apetty officer was rigging out the companion-ladder.
Very suddenly--it seemed, because of the immense quiet that for all itsteeming life enveloped the ship upon the cessation of the engine'ssong--the vessel hesitated and then no longer moved. From forward camethe clank of chains as the anchor cables were paid out. Supple to windand tide, the Autocratic swung in a wide arc, until the lights of thetender disappeared from Staff's field of vision.
Before long, however, they swam silently again into sight; then slowly,cautiously, by almost imperceptible stages the gap closed up until thetender ranged alongside and made fast to her gigantic sister.
Almost at once the incoming passengers began to mount thecompanion-ladder.
Staff promptly abandoned his place at the rail and ran down to themain-deck. As he approached the doorway opening adjacent to thecompanion-ladder he heard a woman's laugh out on the deck: a laughwhich, once heard, was never to be forgotten: clear, sweet, strong,musical as a peal of fairy bells.
He stopped short; and so did his breath for an instant; and so, hefancied, did his heart. This, then, was what Mrs. Ilkington had hintedat! But one woman in all the world could laugh like that ...
Almost at once she appeared, breaking through the cluster of passengerson the deck and into the lighted interior with a swinging, vigorousmanner suggestive of intense vitality and strength. She paused, glancingback over her shoulder, waiting for somebody: a magnificent creature,splendidly handsome, wonderfully graceful, beautiful beyond compare.
"Alison!" Staff breathed hoarsely, dumfounded.
Though his exclamation could by no means have carried to her ears, sheseemed to be instantly sensitive to the vibrations of his emotion. Sheswung round, raking her surroundings with a bright, curious glance, andsaw him. Her smile deepened adorably, her eyes brightened, she movedimpulsively toward him with outflung hands.
"Why," she cried--"Why, Staff! Such a surprise!"
Nothing could have been more natural, spontaneous and unaffected. In aninstant his every doubt and misgiving was erased--blotted out and as ifit had never been. He caught and held her hands, for the momentspeechless. But his eyes were all too eloquent: under their steadfastsincerity her own gaze wavered, shifted and fell. She colouredconsummately, then with a gentle but determined manner disengaged herhands.
"Don't," she said in the low, intimate voice she knew so well how andwhen to employ--"don't! People are looking ..." And then with abewildering shift, resuming her former spirit: "Of all things wonderful,Staff--to meet you here!"
She was acting--masking with her admirable art some emotion secret fromhim. He knew this--felt it intuitively, though he did not understand;and the knowledge affected him poignantly. What place had dissimulationin their understanding? Why need she affect what she did not feel--withhim?
Distressed, bewildered, he met evasion with native straightforwardness.
"I'm stunned," he told her, holding her eyes with a grave, direct gaze;"I'm afraid I don't understand....
How does this happen?"
"Why, of course," she said, maintaining her artificial elation--"Iinfer--you've finished the play and are hurrying home. So--we meet, dearboy. Isn't it delightful?"
"But you're here, on this side--?"
"Oh, just a flying trip. Max wanted me to see Bisson's new piece at thePorte St. Martin. I decided to go at the last moment--caught theMauretania on eight hours' notice--stayed only three days inParis--booked back on this tub by telegraph--travelled all day to catchit by this wretched, roundabout route. And--and there you are, my dear."
She concluded with a gesture charmingly ingenuous and disarming; butStaff shook his head impatiently.
"You came over--you passed through London twice--you stayed three daysin Paris, Alison--and never let me know?"
"Obviously." She lifted her shoulders an inch, with a light laugh."Haven't I just said as much?... You see, I didn't want to disturb you:it means so much to--you and me, Staff--the play."
Dissatisfied, knitting his brows faintly, he said: "I wonder ...!"
"My dear!" she protested gaily, "you positively must not scowl at melike that! You frighten me; and besides I'm tired to death--thiswretched rush of travelling! Tomorrow we'll have a famous young pow-wow,but tonight--! Do say good night to me, prettily, like a dear good boy,and let me go.... It's sweet to see you again; I'm wild to hear aboutthe play.... Jane!" she called, looking round.
Her maid, a tight-mouthed, unlovely creature, moved sedately to herside. "Yes, Miss Landis."
"Have my things come up yet?" The maid responded affirmatively. "Good!I'm dead, almost...."
She turned back to Staff, offering him her hand and with it,bewitchingly, her eyes: "Dear boy! Good night."
He bent low over the hand to hide his dissatisfaction: he felt a bit oldto be treated like a petulant, teasing child....
"Good night," he said stiffly.
"What a bear you are, Staff! Can't you wait till tomorrow? At allevents, you must...."
Laughing, she swept away, following her maid up the companion stairs.Staff pursued her with eyes frowning and perplexed, and more leisurelywith his person.
As he turned aft on the upper deck, meaning to go to the smoking-roomfor a good-night cigarette--absorbed in thought and paying no attentionto his surroundings--a voice saluted him with a languid, exasperatingdrawl: "Ah, Staff! How-d'-ye-do?"
He looked up, recognising a distant acquaintance: a man of medium heightwith a tendency toward stoutness and a taste for extremes in the matterof clothes; with dark, keen eyes deep-set in a face somewhat too pale, aclose-clipped grey moustache and a high and narrow forehead too franklybetrayed by the derby he wore well back on his head.
Staff nodded none too cordially. "Oh, good evening, Arkroyd. Just comeaboard?"
Arkroyd, on the point of entering his stateroom, paused long enough toconfirm this surmise. "Beastly trip--most tiresome," he added, franklyyawning. "Don't know how I should have stood it if it hadn't been forMiss Landis. You know her, I believe? Charming girl--charming."
"Oh, quite," agreed Staff. "Good night."
His tone arrested Arkroyd's attention; the man turned to watch his backas Staff shouldered down the alleyway toward the smoking-room. "I say!"commented Mr. Arkroyd, privately. "A bit hipped--what? No necessity forbeing so bally short with a chap...."
The guess was only too well founded: Staff was distinctly disgruntled.Within the past ten minutes his susceptibilities had been deeplywounded. Why Alison should have chosen to slight him so cavalierly whenin transit through London passed his comprehension.... And the encounterwith Arkroyd comforted him to no degree whatever. He had never likedArkroyd, holding him, for all his wealth, little better than atheatre-loafer of the Broadway type; and now he remembered hearing, onceor twice, that the man's attentions to Alison Landis had been ratheremphatic.
Swayed by whim, he chose to avoid the smoking-room, after all--havinglittle wish to be annoyed by the chatter of Mr. Iff--and swung out ondeck again for a half-hour of cigarettes and lonely brooding....
But his half-hour lengthened indefinitely while he sat, preoccupied, inthe deck-chair of some total stranger. By definite stages, to which hewas almost altogether oblivious, the Autocratic weighed anchor, shookoff her tender and swung away on the seven-day stretch. As definitelyher decks became bare of passengers. Presently Staff was quite asolitary figure in the long array of chairs.
Two bells rang mellowly through the ship before he roused, liftedhimself to his feet and prepared to turn in, still distressed andwondering--so much so that he was barely conscious of the fact that oneof the officers of the vessel was coming aft, and only noticed the manwhen he paused and spoke.
"I say--this is Mr. Staff, isn't it?"
Staff turned quickly, searching his memory for the name and status ofthe sturdy and good-looking young Englishman.
"Yes," he said slowly, "but--"
"I'm Mr. Manvers, the purser. If I'm not mistaken, you crossed with usthis spring?"
"Oh, yes; I did. How-d'-you-do?" Staff offered his hand.
"Sure I recognised you just now--saw you on the main-deck--talking toMiss Landis, I believe."
"Yes ...?"
"Beg pardon; I don't wish to seem impertinent; but may I ask, do youknow the lady very well?"
Staff's eyes clouded. "Why ..."
"Knew you'd think me impertinent; but it is some of my business, really.I can explain to your satisfaction. You see"--the purser stepped nearerand lowered his voice guardedly--"I was wondering if you had muchpersonal influence with Miss Landis. I've just had a bit of a chat withher, and she won't listen to reason, you know, about that collar."
"Collar?" Staff repeated stupidly.
"The Cadogan collar, you know--some silly pearl necklace worth a king'sransom. She bought it in Paris--Miss Landis did; at least, so the reportruns; and she doesn't deny it, as a matter of fact. Naturally thatworries me; it's a rather tempting proposition to leave lying round astateroom; and I asked her just now to let me take care of it forher--put it in my safe, you know. It'd be a devilish nasty thing forthe ship, to have it stolen." The purser paused for effect. "Would youbelieve it? She wouldn't listen to me! Told me she was quite capable oftaking care of her own property! Now if you know her well enough to saythe right word ... it'd be a weight off my mind, I can tell you!"
"Yes, I can imagine so," said Staff thoughtfully. "But--what makes youthink there's any possibility--"
"Well, one never knows what sort of people the ship carries--as a rule,that is. But in this instance I've got good reason to believe there's atleast one man aboard who wouldn't mind lifting that collar; and he'skeen enough to do it prettily, too, if what they tell of him is true."
"Now you're getting interesting. Who is this man?"
"Oh, quite the swell mobsman--Raffles and Arsene Lupin and all that sortof thing rolled into one. His name's Ismay--Arbuthnot Ismay.Clever--wonderful, they say; the police have never been able to fastenanything on him, though he's been known to boast of his jobs inadvance."
"You told Miss Landis this?"
"Certainly--and she laughed."
This seemed quite credible of the lady. Staff considered the situationseriously for a moment or two.
"I'll do what I can," he said at length; "though I'm not hopeful ofmaking her see it from your point of view. Still, I will speak to her."
"That's good of you, I'm sure. You couldn't do more."
"You're positive about this Ismay?" Staff pursued. "You couldn't bemistaken?"
"Not I," asserted the purser confidently. "He crossed with us lastyear--the time Mrs. Burden Hamman's jewels disappeared. Ismay, ofcourse, was suspected, but managed to prove every kind of an alibi."
"Queer you should let him book a second time," commented Staff.
"Rather; but he's changed his name, and I don't imagine the chaps inCockspur Street know him by sight."
"What name does he travel under now?"
The purser smiled softly to himself. "I fancy you won't
be pleased tolearn it," said he. "He's down on the passenger-list as Iff--W. H.Iff."