‘I’m really very sorry, monsieur, but I don’t think there is. The captain, or one of the officers, might know him; I could not say.’
‘Well, just one other question, monsieur. Was he travelling alone?’
‘I think so. No, wait a minute, was he? I believe, now that you mention it, there was a lady with him. You will understand I was not noticing particularly, as my mind was occupied with my work, but it’s like a dream to me, I saw him talking to a lady on the promenade deck.’
‘You could not describe her?’
‘I could not, monsieur. I cannot be even positive she was there at all.’
Seeing there was nothing further to be learnt, they thanked the chief steward courteously. Then, remaining on board, they interviewed every one they could find, whom they thought might be able to give them information. Of all they spoke to, only one, a waiter, knew Felix, and he had not seen him on the occasion in question.
‘That’s no good, I’m afraid,’ said Burnley, as they walked to an hotel. ‘I believe that steward did see a woman, but he would be useless as a witness.’
‘Quite. I don’t fancy you’ll get much at Folkestone either.’
‘Most unlikely, I should say, but I can but try. I think I’ll probably run up to Glasgow and see that man that travelled in the bus with him. He might know something.
‘If not, I’ll see the other—the one who lives in Marseilles.’