V
ISMAY?
When Staff went below a little later, he was somewhat surprised to findhis stateroom alight,--surprised, because he had rather expected thatMr. Iff would elect to sleep off his potations in darkness.
To the contrary, the little man was very much awake, propped up in hisberth with a book for company, and showed no effects whatever ofoverindulgence, unless that were betrayed by a slightly enhancedbrightness of the cool blue eyes which he brought to bear upon hisroommate.
"Good morning!" he piped cheerfully. "What on earth got you up so early?The bar's been closed an hour and more."
"Is that why you came to bed?" enquired Staff.
"Sure," agreed Mr. Iff complacently.
Staff quietly began to shed his clothing and to insert his spare frameinto pajamas. Iff lay back and stared reflectively at the white-paintedoverhead girders.
"Got to slip it to you," he observed presently, "for perfect mastery ofthe dignified reserve thing. I never knew anybody who could bettercontrol his tumultuous emotions."
"Thanks," said Staff drily as he wound up his watch.
"Anything 'special troubling you?"
"Why do you ask?"
"You talk so darn much."
"Sorry if I'm keeping you awake," said Staff politely.
"Oh, I don't mean to seem to beef about it, only ... I was wondering ifby any chance you'd heard the news?"
"What news?"
"About me."
"About you!" Staff paused with his fingers on the light-switch.
"About my cute little self. May I look now?" Iff poked his head over theedge of the upper berth and beamed down upon Staff like a benevolent,blond magpie. "Haven't you heard the rumour that I'm a desperatecharacter?"
"Just what do you mean?" demanded Staff, eyeing the other intently.
"Oh, simply that I overheard the purser discussing me with hisassistant. He claims to recognise in me a bold bad man named Ismay,whose specialty is pulling off jobs that would make Sherlock Holmes askto be retired on a pension."
"Well?"
"Well what?"
"Are you Ismay?"
A broad, mocking grin irradiated the little man's pinched features."Don't ask me," he begged: "I might tell you."
Staff frowned and waited a minute, then, receiving no further responseto his enquiry, grunted "Good night," turned off the light and got intohis berth.
A moment later the question came out of the darkness overhead: "Isay--what do _you_ think?"
"Are you Iff or Ismay--you mean?"
"Aye, lad, aye!"
"I don't know. It's for you to say."
"But if you thought I was Ismay you'd shift quarters, wouldn't you?"
"Why?"
"Because I might pinch something of yours."
"In the first place," said Staff, yawning, "I can't shift without goinginto the second cabin--and you know it: the boat's full up. Secondly,I've nothing you could steal save ideas, and you haven't got the rightsort of brains to turn them to any account."
"That ought to hold me for some time," Iff admitted fairly. "But I'mconcerned about your sensitive young reputation. Suppose I were to turna big trick this trip?"
"As for instance--?"
"Well, say I swipe the Cadogan collar."
"Then I'd stand just so much the better chance of catching youred-handed."
"Swell notion you've got of the cunning of the Twentieth Centurycriminal, I must say. D' you for an instant suppose my work's so coarsethat you could detect grits in it?"
"Then you _are_ Ismay?"
"My son," said the other solemnly, "your pertinacity shan't gounrewarded: I will be frank with you. You shall know all. I am Iff--theeternal question."
"Oh, go to thunder!" said Staff indignantly.
But as he slipped off to sleep he could hear the man overhead chucklingquietly, beneath his breath....
The next few days would have provided him with ample opportunity inwhich to ponder the question of his roommate's identity, had Staffchosen so to occupy his time. As it happened, Heaven was kind to theyoung man, and sent a gale of sorts, which, breaking upon the Autocraticthe following morning, buffeted her for three days and relegated totheir berths all the poor sailors aboard, including the lady with thepink soul and underthings. Of Mrs. Thataker, indeed, Staff saw nothingmore until just before the vessel docked in New York. He wasn'theartless by any manner of means; he was, as a matter of fact, franklysorry for the other poor passengers; but he couldn't help feeling therewas a lot of truth in the old saw about an ill wind....
Otherwise the bad weather proved annoying enough in several ways. Tobegin with, Alison Landis herself was anything but a good sailor, andeven Miss Searle, though she missed no meals, didn't pretend to enjoythe merciless hammering which the elements were administering to theship. Alison retired to her suite immediately after the first breakfastand stuck religiously therein until the weather moderated, thusaffording Staff no chance to talk with her about the number ofimmediately interesting things on his mind. While Miss Searle stayedalmost as steadily in her quarters, keeping out of harm's way andreading, she told Staff when they met at meals. Mrs. Ilkington, ofcourse, disappeared as promptly as Mrs. Thataker. In consequence of allof which, Staff found himself thrown back for companionship on Bangs,who bored him to the point of extinction, Arkroyd, whom he didn't like,and Iff, who kept rather out of the way, dividing his time between histwo passions and merely leering at the younger man, a leer of infinitecunning and derision, when chance threw them together.
In despair of finding any good excuse for wasting his time, then, Mr.Staff took unto himself pens, ink, paper and fortitude and--surprisedeven himself by writing that fourth act and finishing his play.Again--an ill wind!
And then, as if bent on proving its integral benevolence so far asconcerned Mr. Staff, the wind shifted and sighed and died--beginning theoperation toward sundown of the third day out from Queenstown. Themorning of the fourth day dawned clear and beautiful, with no wind worthmentioning and only a moderate sea running--not enough to make much ofan impression on the Autocratic. So pretty nearly everybody made publicappearance at one time or another during the morning, and compared notesabout their historic sufferings, and quoted the stewardess who had beenheard to say that this was the worst westbound passage the boat had evermade, and regained their complexions, and took notice of the incipientflirtations and--well, settled down in the usual way to enjoy an oceanvoyage.
Staff, of course, was on deck betimes, with an eye eager for first sightof Alison and another heedful of social entanglements which mightprevent him from being first and foremost to her side when she didappear. But for all his watchfulness and care, Mrs. Ilkingtonforestalled him and had Alison in convoy before Staff discovered her;and then Arkroyd showed up and Mrs. Ilkington annexed him, and Bangs wasrounded up with one or two others and made to pay court to Mrs.Ilkington's newly snared celebrity and ... Staff went away and sulkedlike a spoiled child. Nor did his humour become more cheerful when atlunch he discovered that Mrs. Ilkington had kept two seats at theirtable reserved for Miss Landis and Arkroyd. It had been a prearrangedthing, of course; it had been Alison with whom Mrs. Ilkington had talkedabout him in Paris; and evidently Alison had been esquired by Arkroydthere. Staff didn't relish the flavour of that thought. What right hadArkroyd to constitute himself Alison's cavalier on her travels? Forthat matter, what right had Alison to accept him in such a capacity?...Though, of course, Staff had to remind himself that Alison was inreality not bound in any way....
But he had his reward and revenge after lunch. As the party left thetable Alison dropped behind to speak to him; and in interchange ofcommonplaces they allowed the others to distance them beyond earshot.
"You're a dear," the young woman told him in a discreet tone as theyascended the companionway.
"I'm bound to say," he told her with a faint, expiring flicker ofresentment, "that you hardly treat me like one."
Her eyes held his with their smili
ng challenge, half provocative, halftender; and she pouted a little, prettily. In this mood she was alwaysquite irresistible to Staff. Almost against his will his dignity and hispose of the injured person evaporated and became as if they had neverbeen.
"Just the same," she declared, laughing, "you are a dear--if you _don't_deserve to be told so."
"What have I done?" he demanded guiltily--knowing very well on whatcounts he was liable to indictment.
"Oh, nothing," said Alison--"nothing whatever. You've only been haughtyand aloof and icy and indifferent and everything else that men seem toconsider becoming to them when they think they're neglected."
"You certainly don't expect me to _like_ seeing Arkroyd at your side allthe time?"
"Oh!" she laughed contemptuously--"Arkroyd!" And she dismissed thatgentleman with a fine sweeping gesture. "Can I help it if he happens totravel on the same ship?"
They halted at the top of the steps.
"Then it was accidental--?" he asked seriously.
"Staff!" The young woman made an impatient movement. "If I didn't likeyou--_you_ know how much--upon my word I'd snub you for that. You are abear!"
"A moment ago I was a dear."
"Oh, well, I'm fond of all sorts of animals."
"Then I advise your future husband to keep you away from zoos."
"Oh, Staff! But wouldn't you want me to come to see you once in awhile?"
He jerked up one hand with the gesture of a man touched in afencing-bout. "You win," he laughed. "I should've known better...."
But she made her regard tender consolation for his discomfiture. "Youhaven't told me about the play--our play--_my_ play?"
"It's finished."
"Not really, Staff?" She clasped her hands in a charmingly impulsiveway. He nodded, smiling. "Is it good?"
"You'll have to tell me that--you and Max."
"Oh--Max! He's got to like what I like. When will you read it to me?"
"Whenever you wish."
"This afternoon?"
"If you like."
"Oh, good! Now I'm off for my nap--only I know I shan't sleep, I'm soexcited. Bring the 'script to me at two--say, half-past. Come to mysitting-room; we can be alone and quiet, and after you've finished wecan have tea together and talk and--talk our silly heads off. Youdarling!"
She gave him a parting glance calculated to turn any man's head, andswung off to her rooms, the very spirit of grace incarnate in her youngand vigorous body.
Staff watched her with a kindling eye, then shook his head as one whodoubts--as if doubting his own worthiness--and went off to his ownstateroom to run over the type-script of his fourth act: beingfortunate in having chosen a ship which carried a typist, together withalmost every other imaginable convenience and alleged luxury of lifeashore.
Punctual to the minute, manuscript under his arm, he knocked at the doorof the sitting-room of the _suite de luxe_ occupied by the actress. Hermaid admitted him and after a moment or two Alison herself came out ofher stateroom, in a wonderful Parisian tea-gown cunningly designed torender her even more bewilderingly bewitching than ever. Staff thoughther so, beyond any question, and as unquestionably was his thoughtmirrored in his eyes as he rose and stood waiting for her greeting--verynearly a-tremble, if the truth's to be told.
Her colour deepened as she came toward him and then, pausing at arm'slength, before he could lift a hand, stretched forth both her own andcaught him by the shoulders. "My dear!" she said softly; and her eyeswere bright and melting. "My dear, dear boy! It's so sweet to see you."She came a step nearer, stood upon her tiptoes and lightly touched hischeek with her lips.
"Alison ...!" he cried in a broken voice.
But already she had released him and moved away, with a lithe andgracious movement evading his arms. "No," she told him firmly, shakingher head: "no more than that, Staff. You mustn't--I won't haveyou--carry on as if we were children--_yet_."
"But Alison--"
"No." Again she shook her head. "If I want to kiss you, I've a perfectright to; but that doesn't give you any licence to kiss me in return.Besides, I'm not at all sure I'm really and truly in love with you. Nowdo sit down."
He complied sulkily.
"Are you in the habit of kissing men you don't care for?"
"Yes, frequently," she told him, coolly taking the chair opposite; "I'man actress--if you've forgotten the fact."
He pondered this, frowning. "I don't like it," he announced withconviction.
"Neither do I--always." She relished his exasperation for a momentlonger, then changed her tone. "Do be sensible, Staff. I'm crazy to hearthat play. How long do you mean to keep me waiting?"
He knew her well enough to understand that her moods and whims must behumoured like a--well, like any other star's. She was pertinaciouslytemperamental: that is to say, spoiled; beautiful women are so, for themost part--invariably so, if on the stage. That kind of temperament ispart of an actress' equipment, an asset, as much an item of her stock intrade as any trick of elocution or pantomime.
So, knowing what he knew, Staff took himself in hand and prepared tomake the best of the situation. With a philosophic shrug and the wry,quaint smile so peculiarly his own, he stretched forth a hand to take uphis manuscript; but in the very act, remembering, withheld it.
"Oh, I'd forgotten ..."
"What, my dear?" asked Alison, smiling back to his unsmiling stare.
"What made you send me that bandbox?" he demanded without furtherpreliminary; for he suspected that by surprising the author of thatoutrage, and by no other method, would he arrive at the truth.
But though he watched the woman intently, he was able to detect noguilty start, no evidence of confusion. Her eyes were blank, and alittle pucker of wonder showed between her brows: that was all.
"Bandbox?" she repeated enquiringly. "What do you mean?"
"I mean," he pursued with a purposeful, omniscient air, "the thing youbought at Lucille's, the day before we sailed, and had sent me without aword of explanation. What did you do it for?"
Alison relaxed and sat back in her chair, laughing softly. "Dear boy,"she said--"do you know?--you're quite mad--quite!"
"Do you mean to say you didn't--?"
"I can't even surmise what you're talking about."
"That's funny." He pondered this, staring. "I made sure it was you.Weren't you in London last Friday?"
"I? Oh, no. Why, didn't I tell you I only left Paris Saturday morning?That's why we had to travel all day to catch the boat at Queenstown, youknow."
He frowned. "That's true; you did say so.... But I wish I could imaginewhat it all means."
"Tell me; I'm good at puzzles."
So he recounted the story of the bandbox incognito, Alison lending herattention with evident interest, some animation and much quietamusement. But when he had finished, she shook her head.
"How very odd!" she said wonderingly. "And you have no idea--?"
"Not the least in the world, now that you've established an alibi. MissSearle knows, but--"
"What's that?" demanded Alison quickly.
"I say, Miss Searle knows, but she won't tell."
"The girl who sat next to Bangs at lunch?"
"Yes--"
"But how is that? I don't quite understand."
"Oh, she says she was in the place when the bandbox was purchased--sawthe whole transaction; but it's none of her affair, says she, so shewon't tell me anything."
"Conscientious young woman," said Alison approvingly. "But are you quitesure you have exhausted every means of identifying the true culprit? Didyou examine the box yourself? I mean, did you leave it all to thehousemaid--what's her name--Milly?"
He nodded: "Yes."
"Then she may have overlooked something. Why take her word for it? Theremay be a card or something there now."
Staff looked startled and chagrined. "That's so. It never occurred tome. I am a bonehead, and no mistake. I'll just take a look, after we'verun through this play."
"Why wait? Send
for it now. I'd like to see for myself, if there isanything: you see, you've roused a woman's curiosity; I want to know.Let me send Jane."
Without waiting for his consent, Alison summoned the maid. "Jane," saidshe, "I want you to go to Mr. Staff's stateroom--"
"Excuse me," Staff interrupted. "Find the steward named Orde and askhim for the bandbox I gave him to take care of. Then bring it here,please."
"Yes, sir," said Jane; and forthwith departed.
"And now--while we're waiting," suggested Alison--"the play, if youplease."
"Not yet," said Staff. "I've something else to talk about that I'dforgotten. Manvers, the purser--"
"Good Heavens!" Alison interrupted in exasperation. She rose, with ageneral movement of extreme annoyance. "Am I never to hear the last ofthat man? He's been after me every day, and sometimes twice a day....He's a personified pest!"
"But he's right, you know," said Staff quietly.
"Right! Right about what?"
"In wanting you to let him take care of that necklace--thewhat-you-may-call-it thing--the Cadogan collar."
"How do you know I have it?"
"You admitted as much to Manvers, and Mrs. Ilkington says you have it."
"But why need everybody know about it?"
"Enquire of Mrs. Ilkington. If you wanted the matter kept secret, why inthe sacred name of the great god Publicity did you confide in that queenof press agents?"
"She had no right to say anything--"
"Granted. So you actually have got that collar with you?"
"Oh, yes," Alison admitted indifferently, "I have it."
"In this room?"
"Of course."
"Then be advised and take no chances."
Alison had been pacing to and fro, impatiently. Now she stopped, lookingdown at him without any abatement of her show of temper.
"You're as bad as all the rest," she complained. "I'm a woman grown, infull possession of my faculties. The collar is perfectly safe in mycare. It's here, in this room, securely locked up."
"But someone might break in while you're out--"
"Either Jane is here all the time, or I am. It's never left to itself asingle instant. It's perfectly ridiculous to suppose we're going to letanybody rob us of it. Besides, where would a thief go with it, if he didsucceed in stealing it--overboard?"
"I'm willing to risk a small bet he'd manage to hide it so that it wouldtake the whole ship's company, and a heap of good luck into the bargain,to find it."
"Well," said the woman defiantly, "I'm not afraid, and I'm not going tobe browbeaten by any scare-cat purser into behaving like a kiddie afraidof the dark. I'm quite competent to look after my own property, and Ipurpose doing so without anybody's supervision. Now let's have thatunderstood, Staff; and don't you bother me any more about this matter."
"Thanks," said Staff drily; "I fancy you can count on me to know whenI'm asked to mind my own business."
"Oh, I didn't mean that--not that way, dear boy--but--"
At this juncture the maid entered with the bandbox, and Alison broke offwith an exclamation of diverted interest.
"There! Let's say no more about this tiresome jewel business. I'm surethis is going to prove ever so much more amusing. Open it, Jane,please."
In another moment the hat was in her hands and both she and Jane weregiving passably good imitations--modified by their respectivepersonalities--of Milly's awe-smitten admiration of the thing.
Staff was conscious of a sensation of fatigue. Bending over, he drew thebandbox to him and began to examine the wrappings and wads oftissue-paper which it still contained.
"It's a perfect dear!" said Miss Landis in accents of the utmostsincerity.
"Indeed, mum," chimed Jane, antiphonal.
"Whoever your anonymous friend may be, she has exquisite taste."
"Indeed, mum," chanted the chorus.
"May I try it on, Staff?"
"What?" said the young man absently, absorbed in his search. "Oh, yes;certainly. Help yourself."
Alison moved across to the long mirror set in the door communicatingwith her bedroom. Here she paused, carefully adjusting the hat to hershapely head.
"Now, sir!" she exclaimed, turning.
Staff sat back in his chair and looked his fill of admiration. The hatmight have been designed expressly for no other purpose than to set offthis woman's imperious loveliness: such was the thought eloquent in hisexpression.
Satisfied with his dumb tribute, Alison lifted off the hat and depositedit upon a table.
"Find anything?" she asked lightly.
"Not a word," said he--"not a sign of a clue."
"What a disappointment!" she sighed. "I'm wild to know.... Suppose,"said she, posing herself before him,--"suppose the owner never did turnup after all?"
"_Hum_," said Staff, perturbed by such a prospect.
"What would you do with it?"
"_Hum_," said he a second time, non-committal.
"You couldn't wear it yourself; it's hardly an ornament for a bachelor'sstudy. What _would_ you do with it?"
"I think," said Staff, "I hear my cue to say: I'd give it to the mostbeautiful woman alive, of course."
"Thank you, dear," returned Alison serenely. "Don't forget."
She moved back to her chair, humming a little tune almost inaudibly; andin passing lightly brushed his forehead with her hand--the ghost of acaress.
"You may go, Jane," said she, sitting down to face her lover; and whenthe maid had shut herself out of the room: "Now, dear, read me ourplay," said Alison, composing herself to attention.
Staff took up his manuscript and began to read aloud....
Three hours elapsed before he put aside the fourth act and turnedexpectantly to Alison.
Elbow on knee and chin in hand, eyes fixed upon his face, she sat as oneentranced, unable still to shake off the spell of his invention: morelovely, he thought, in this mood of thoughtfulness even than in herbrightest animation.... Then with a little sigh she roused, relaxed herpose, and sat back, faintly smiling.
"Well?" he asked diffidently. "What do you think?"
"It's splendid," she said with a soft, warm glow of enthusiasm--"simplysplendid. It's coherent, it hangs together from start to finish; you'vegot little to learn about construction, my dear. And my part ismagnificent: never have I had such a chance to show what I can do withcomedy. I'm delighted beyond words. But ..." She sighed again, distrait.
"But--?" he repeated anxiously.
"There are one or two minor things," she said with shadowy regret, "thatyou will want to change, I think: nothing worth mentioning, nothingimportant enough to mar the wonderful cleverness of it all."
"But tell me--?"
"Oh, it's hardly worth talking about, dear boy. Only--there's theingenue role; you've given her too much to do; she's on the stage in allof my biggest scenes, and has business enough in them to spoil my besteffects. Of course, that can be arranged. And then the leading man'spart--I don't want to seem hypercritical, but he's altogether tooclever; you mustn't let him overshadow the heroine the way he does; someof his business is plainly hers--I can see myself doing it infinitelybetter than any leading man we could afford to engage. And those wittylines you've put into his mouth--I _must_ have them; you won't find ithard, I'm sure, to twist the lines a bit, so that they come from theheroine rather than the hero...."
Staff held up a warning hand, and laughed.
"Just a minute, Alison," said he. "Remember this is a play, not abackground for you. And with a play it's much as with matrimony: ifeither turns out to be a monologue it's bound to be a failure."
Alison frowned slightly, then forced a laugh, and rose. "You authors areall alike," she complained, pouting; "I mean, as authors. But I'm notgoing to have any trouble with you, dear boy. We'll agree on everything;I'm going to be reasonable and you've _got_ to be. Besides, we've heapsof time to talk it over. Now I'm going to change and get up on deck.Will you wait for me in the saloon, outside? I shan't be ten minutes."
"Will I?" he laughed. "Your only trouble will be to keep me away fromyour door, this trip." He gathered up his manuscript and steamer-cap,then with his hand on the door-knob paused. "Oh, I forgot that blessedbandbox!"
"Never mind that now," said Alison. "I'll have Jane repack it and takeit back to your steward. Besides, I'm in a hurry, stifling for freshair. Just give me twenty minutes...."
She offered him a hand, and he bowed his lips to it; then quietly lethimself out into the alleyway.