The boatman swung his craft against the ladder with a sweep of the oar. I held up the note:
“Will you kindly deliver this to the chief steward? The writer wants an answer before the ship leaves.”
“I really haven’t time,” apologized the mate. “I’ve an errand ashore and we leave in fifteen minutes. You can run up with it yourself, though. Here, boatman, row me over to the custom wharf.”
I sprang up the ladder. Except for several sahib-respecting Lascars, who jumped aside as I appeared, the promenade deck was deserted. From somewhere below came the sound of waltz music and the laughter of merry people. I strolled leisurely around to the port side and walked aft in the shadow of the upper cabins. For some moments I stood alone in the darkness, gazing at the reflection of the lower portholes in the canal. Then, a step sounded at the door of the saloon behind me, a heavy British step that advanced several paces and halted. One could almost feel the authority in that step; one could certainly hear it in the gruff “ahem” with which the newcomer cleared his throat. An officer, no doubt, about to order me ashore! I waited in literal fear and trembling.
A minute passed, then another. I turned my head, inch by inch, and peered over my shoulder. In the shaft of light stood a man in faultless evening attire, gazing at me through the intervening darkness. His dress suggested a passenger; but the very set of his feet on the deck proved him no landsman. The skipper himself, surely! What under officer would dare appear out of uniform during a voyage?
I turned my head away again, determined to bear the impending blow with fortitude. The dreaded being cleared his throat once more, stepped nearer, and stood for a moment without speaking. Then a hand touched me lightly on the sleeve.
“Beg pahdon, sir,” murmured an apologetic voice; “beg pahdon, sir, but ’ave you ’ad dinner yet? The other gentlemen’s h’all been served, sir.”
I swallowed my throat and turned around, laying a hand over the place where my necktie should have been.
“I am not a passenger, my man,” I replied haughtily; “I have a communication for the chief steward.”
The flunky stretched out his hand.