The figure moved a little. It raised its head cautiously in the gloom and there was a fiendish expression on its face. Placing a finger on its lips, it hissed ' Sh-h-h!", made a fierce gesture for them to go away, and instantly fell somnolent again.
They went. Whatever the meaning of the episode, it was driven from Morgan's mind by the prospect of food and drink. The fragrance and glitter of the dining-room soothed his rattled nerves; he breathed deeply once more. But— there was nobody whatever at the captain's table, not even Dr. Kyle. In the middle of the crowd and clatter, every chair remained ominously empty. He stared.
"… Now you must," Mrs. Perrigord was saying, "you really must come and dine at ouah table to-night, you kneow. Whatevah is worrying you, Mr. Morgan, I must insist on youah forgetting it. Come!" Her smile became mysterious as she took her rather dazed guests across the loom. "Les-leh will not be with us to-night. He will dine on milk and dry biscuit, and prepare himself foah his talk." She leaned close to Morgan. "My husband, you know, has rather extrooordinry principles, Mr. Morgan. But I, on the othah hand—"
Again she smiled. That was how she came to order champagne.
Alter the soup, Morgan felt a warmth steal through him. After the fish, his wolfish silence began to wear thin and III* spirits stirred from their depths. In the midst of a tender steak, done rare between crisp marks of the grill and smoking between those smooth-slipping chipped potatoes whose edges have no hardness, he suddenly felt a pleased sense of relaxation. The music of the orchestra did not not i nd far away, and he rather liked the appearance of the faces about him. Life looked less like a heap of unwashed dishes, and the warm lights were comforting. Champagne nipped warm and soothing. Captain Valvick said, "Ahh-h!" on a long-drawn note. When the steak disappeared, to be replaced by mysteriously tinted ice-cream and smoking black coffee, his spirits commenced to soar. He appreciated the noise that people were making around him. The champagne nestled through his innards, causing him to beam round on Mrs. Perrigord and the captain; to find himself keeping time with his foot when a reckless orchestra ventured into Gilbert and Sullivan.
"Ta-ti-ta-ta-ta-, ti-ta-ta-ta-ri; sing, 'Willow, tit-willow, tit- willow,' " murmured Henry Morgan, wagging his head expansively. He smiled, and Mrs. Perrigord spread effulgence in reply. "'Iss it veakness of intellect, birdie, ay cried—!'" whoomed Captain Valvick, drawing back his chin for a thoughtful rumble; " 'Or a tough worm in youah little in-side—' " gently speculated Mrs. Perrigord, beginning to giggle; and all three together, inspired with a surge of mirth, whirled out together:
"With a shake of his poor little head he replied, "'Willow, " 'Tit-willow,
"'Tit-willow!' (Whee!)"
"Oh, I say, you know," protested Mrs. Perrigord, whose face was growing rather flushed and her voice more loud, "we reolly shouldn't be doing this at oil, should we? Oh, I say! Heh-heh-heh! Shall we have anothah bottle?" she beamed on them.
"You yust bet we do!" boomed Captain Valvick. "And diss one iss on me. Steward!" A cork popped, pale smoke sizzled, and they raised glasses. "Ay got a toast ay like to giff… "