Part 27 (1/2)

”Have you any berths left?”

”Oh, yes, sir, a number. It's an off time of the year, and we do not fill up from London. We are stopping at coast stations. We shall fill up from those.”

”Let me see a plan of the s.h.i.+p.”

”Yes, sir.... That's it. Which cla.s.s--which part of the boat do you want, sir?”

Masters ignored the question. Pointing to the pen and ink list of names, inquired:

”These are the names of those who have already booked their pa.s.sages?”

”Yes, sir.”

Having located what he wanted he turned to the plan of the s.h.i.+p again, saying:

”This is a two-berthed cabin. One berth is taken, I see. Is the other vacant?”

”Yes, sir. But you can book one in an empty cabin if you like. You will have more room, unless we fill up.”

”Thank you. I prefer this one. I think I happen to know the Mr. Rigby who has the other half.”

”Oh, I see, sir--friend of yours--of course, companions.h.i.+p. I beg your pardon.”

Masters paid his pa.s.sage money; booked in the name of Charleigh; inquired the time of sailing on the morrow.

”Tide serves at noon, sir. The vessel will go out on top of the water.”

”From St. Katharine's?”

”Yes, sir.... Good-day, sir, and thank you.... Not that way, sir....

This door on the left.

”Good-day.”

The cabman was waiting. Stooped down from his perch to receive instructions.

”The Telegraph Office, Charing Cross.”

There the fare despatched a wire to his Wivernsea landlady; telling her to pack everything of his in his portmanteaux, and send them up by the afternoon train to the care of the Cloak Room, Charing Cross.

Then he drove to his publishers. He would be away some time, and there were certain business arrangements to be made.... Then to his flat in Shaftesbury Avenue. He slept there the night.

More correctly, he spent the night there. Spent it in pacing to and fro, recalling all the events of that long last month. All the happiest days; all the most miserable ones.

He was heart-full of pity for the woman, poor soul! Wished he could wipe away the bitterness of his words that night on the seat at Wivernsea.

That was impossible. But he could try to make amends.