“It’s raining cats and dogs, or whatever the equivalent to cats and dogs is in these parallels,” said Somers. “I got wet watching the Bluebottle show a clean pair of heels to a tramp. She’s in our wake just now. I think I’ll turn into my berth.”
He went to the bar and called for a brandy-and-soda, and then sang out “Good night,” as he hurried to his cabin.
The next morning Miss Compton appeared at the breakfast table, and so did Somers, but Norgate had clearly overslept himself, for he was absent. The captain inquired for him.
“He must be on deck, sir,” said one of the stewards, “for he was not in his cabin when I went with his chocolate an hour ago.”
“Oh, he’ll turn up before we have finished breakfast,” said Somers, attacking his devilled kidneys.
But his prediction was not realised. A pantry boy was sent on deck in search of Mr Norgate, but Mr Norgate was not to be found. A steward hurried to his cabin, but returned in a few minutes, saying that his bunk had not been slept in. The captain rose from the table with a well-simulated laugh. A search was organised. It failed to find him. The awful truth had to be faced: Mr Norgate was not aboard. Viola Compton was hysterical. Teddy Somers was silent; no one had ever seen him so deathly pale before.
Theories were forthcoming to account for Norgate’s suicide—people took it for granted, of course, that he had committed suicide. Only one person suggested the possibility of his having fallen overboard, and of his cry being that which the steward had heard, for a part of the pantry was open on the starboard side. But against this it was urged that Mr Somers must have been on deck at the time the steward had heard, or had fancied he heard, that cry, and Mr Somers said he had heard nothing.
For a week the gloom hung over the whole party; but by the time the Cape was reached, Miss Compton was able to appear at the table once more. She looked heartbroken; but every one said she was bearing up wonderfully. Only the poet had the bad taste to offer her his sympathy through the medium of a sonnet.
On leaving the Cape the bereaved girl seemed to find a certain plaintive consolation in the society of Mr Somers. He sat beside her in his deck chair, and they talked together about poor Jack Norgate; but after a week or two, steaming from Bombay to Ceylon, and thence through the Straits to Sydney, they began to talk about other subjects, and before long the girl began visibly to brighten. The passengers said she was a woman.