Sir Joseph proceeded with his story. Natalie took up her knife again. Another signal coming!
“We were both down in the cabin, occupied in finishing our dinner—”
“Just sitting down to lunch, Joseph.”
“My dear! I ought to know.”
“I only repeat what I heard, brother. The last time you told the story, you and your friend were sitting down to lunch.”
“We won’t particularize, Lavinia. Suppose we say occupied over a meal?”
“If it is of no more importance than that, Joseph, it would be surely better to leave it out altogether.”
“Let us waive the point. Well, we were suddenly alarmed by a shout on deck, ‘Man over-board!’ We both rushed up the cabin stairs, naturally under the impression that one of our crew had fallen into the sea: an impression shared, I ought to add, by the man at the helm, who had given the alarm.”
Sir Joseph paused again. He was approaching one of the great dramatic points in his story, and was naturally anxious to present it as impressively as possible. He considered with himself, with his head a little on one side. Miss Lavinia considered with herself, with her head a little on one side. Natalie laid down her knife again, and again touched Launce under the table. This time there were five pieces of ham ranged longitudinally on the plate, with one piece immediately under them at the center of the line. Interpreted by the Code, this signal indicated two ominous words, “Bad news.” Launce looked significantly at the owner of the yacht (meaning of the look, “Is he at the bottom of it?”). Natalie frowned in reply (meaning of the frown, “Yes, he is”). Launce looked down again into the plate. Natalie instantly pushed all the pieces of ham together in a little heap (meaning of the heap, “No more to say”).
“Well?” said Richard Turlington, turning sharply on Sir Joseph. “Get on with your story. What next?”