Mrs. Haxton seemed to forget her fear of the gangway. Advancing with sure and easy tread she gave Dick his telegram. And he was conscious, during one unhappy minute, that Irene, and Captain Stump, and Mr. Fenshawe, each in varying degree, shared Mrs. Haxton's opinion as to the exceeding oddity of the fact that any one should be masquerading on board the _Aphrodite_ under an assumed name. CHAPTER V MISS FENSHAWE SEEKS AN ALLY Royson was not in the least nonplussed by this recurrence of a dilemma for which he was not responsible. Von Kerber, of course, could have extricated him with a word, but von Kerber, for reasons of his own, remained, invisible. So Dick threw his head back in a characteristic way which people soon learnt to associate with a stubborn resolve to see a crisis through to the end. He ignored Mrs. Haxton, and spoke to the captain. "I am glad the question of my right name has been raised," he said. "When Baron von Kerber comes on deck I shall ask him to settle the matter once and for all." "Just so," said Stump, "I would if I was you." "The really important thing is the whereabouts of our cabins," interrupted Mrs. Haxton's clear drawl. "Take the ladies aft,--Mr. Royson,--an' let 'em choose their quarters," directed Stump curtly. Dick would have obeyed in silence had not Miss Fenshawe thought fit to help him. She had found Mrs. Haxton's airs somewhat tiresome during the long journey from London, and she saw no reason why that lady should be so ready to bring a hornet's nest about Royson's ears. "We are not in such a desperate hurry to bestow our belongings that you cannot read your telegram," she said to Dick. Then she favored Stump with a frank smile. "I know you mean to start almost immediately, captain, and it is possible that Mr. Royson may wish to send an answer before we leave Marseilles. You won't be angry if he waits one moment before he shows us to our staterooms?" "Not at all, miss," said the skipper, "he's at your service. I can do without him--easy." Stump was angry with Dick, and did not hesitate to show it. A blunt man, of plain speech, he resented anything in the nature of double-dealing. Royson's remarkable proficiency in most matters bearing on the navigation of a ship had amazed him in the first instance, and this juggling with names led him to suspect some deep-laid villainy with which the midnight attack on von Kerber was not wholly unconnected. But the person most taken aback by Irene's self-assertion was Mrs. Haxton. A firm attitude on the girl's part came as an unpleasing novelty. An imperious light leaped to her eyes, but she checked the words which might have changed a trivial incident into a sharp tussle for supremacy. "I am sorry," she said quietly. "Telegrams are important things, sometimes. And the messenger is waiting, too." Thus, under the fire of many eyes, Royson tore open the _petit bleu_, and read its typewritten contents. The words were brief, but sufficiently bewildering: