was the fear he would tell me I was an idiot that prevented me. At any
rate the next time I passed the door of the smoking-room I saw he had
left it. I paid my usual visit to Mrs. Nettlepoint that night, but I
troubled her no further about Miss Mavis. She had made up her mind that
everything was smooth and settled now, and it seemed to me I had worried
her, and that she had worried herself, in sufficiency. I left her to
enjoy the deepening foretaste of arrival, which had taken possession of
her mind. Before turning in I went above and found more passengers on
deck than I had ever seen so late. Jasper moved about among them alone,
but I forbore to join him. The coast of Ireland had disappeared, but the
night and the sea were perfect. On the way to my cabin, when I came
down, I met the stewardess in one of the passages, and the idea entered
my head to say to her: “Do you happen to know where Miss Mavis is?”
“Why she’s in her room, sir, at this hour.”
“Do you suppose I could speak to her?” It had come into my mind to ask
her why she had wanted to know of me if I should recognise Mr.
Porterfield.
“No sir,” said the stewardess; “she has gone to bed.”
“That’s all right.” And I followed the young lady’s excellent example.
The next morning, while I dressed, the steward of my side of the ship
came to me as usual to see what I wanted. But the first thing he said
to, me was: “Rather a bad job, sir—a passenger missing.” And while I
took I scarce know what instant chill from it, “A lady, sir,” he went
on—“whom I think you knew. Poor Miss Mavis, sir.”
“_Missing_?” I cried—staring at him and horror-stricken.
“She’s not on the ship. They can’t find her.”
“Then where to God is she?”
I recall his queer face. “Well sir, I suppose you know that as well as
I.”
“Do you mean she has jumped overboard?”
“Some time in the night, sir—on the quiet. But it’s beyond every one,
the way she escaped notice. They usually sees ’em, sir. It must have
been about half-past two. Lord, but she was sharp, sir. She didn’t so
much as make a splash. They say she _’ad_ come against her will, sir.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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