In appearance, Mrs. De Wolfe looked formidable enough! Tall and bony, with a long, wrinkled face, a commanding hooked nose (a family feature descending through generations), sharp black eyes, heavily marked brows, and a tightly closed mouth, which, when open, displayed two gleaming rows of expensively fitted teeth. Her hands exhibited knotted veins, and surprisingly large knuckles, but the lady's most distinctive endowment was a far-reaching, masculine voice. Her style of dress was tailor-made, and suitable, her only jewellery, a thin wedding ring.
What was her claim to the almost subservient homage which she received? She was suffered to break into the most interesting conversation; her remarks were listened to with profound respect, and she was waited on with slavish assiduity. Perhaps the answer was, that the old lady had influence, a strong personality, a sharp tongue, and great possessions. She was a masterful, independent individual, who did what she liked, went where she fancied, and said what she pleased! Nancy shrank from her instinctively, and when on deck, kept well out of her orbit, and beyond the range of those piercing eyes.
One evening, as she sat pretending to read, she was startled by a deep voice speaking over her shoulder. It said:
"What's the matter with you? Why don't you go and play about? You look like a sick chicken!"
As Nancy gazed straight up into the old wrinkled face, her lips twitched, but she made no reply. Mrs. De Wolfe, who evidently expected an answer, waited for a moment, still staring fixedly. It was something like the children's game of "Who will laugh first?" Then with an indignant "Humph!" she moved away.
The Patna, four days out from Colombo, had experienced fairly fine weather, and real tropical heat. Nancy slept in the top berth of her tiny cubby hole, with the port wide open, and was dreaming a delightful dream, when it suddenly turned to a sense of horrible reality and drowning. She was roused by a wandering green wave, which, having discovered an inviting porthole, flowed in torrents over her prostrate form, and completely swamped the cabin. As soon as she had recovered her breath, and the shock, she endeavoured to close the port. It proved much too stiff. Then she sprang down into the water on the floor, snatched at her dressing-gown, and opening the door, screamed for a steward. A man in the next cabin had evidently met with the same catastrophe, and was in a similar plight. He and Nancy faced one another in the passage, a dripping, shivering pair! Very soon a bedroom steward appeared on the scene, there was loud talking, splashing, mopping. In the midst of this, a door opened, and a gruff voice demanded:
"What's all this noise about?"
Then the face of Mrs. De Wolfe appeared. She wore a large lace-frilled nightcap, "and looked for all the world," as the young man subsequently described, "like the wolf in Red Riding Hood."
"There's been a sea into these two cabins, ma'am," explained the steward, "and this 'ere lady and gentleman has been washed out!"
The old woman now came forth, and surveyed them impartially; the smart clean-shaven man in pink pyjamas, and a blanket; the girl in a blue dressing-gown, with two long plaits of hair dripping down her back, and instantly recognized the "Ghost," Nancy's nickname on the boat.