And so, with a light laugh, she rearranged her hair and left my cabin to return on deck, where dancing was still proceeding beneath the great electric lights. Four bells had rung out sharply, showing it to be two o'clock, before I went down to my cabin, attended by Felicita. Very soon, however, I sent her to bed and lay down to rest myself.
Somehow, I could not sleep that night. The monotonous whirr and throbbing of the engines sounded like continual thunder in my ears, and even the swish of the long waves as they rose and fell at the port-hole irritated me. Of late I had developed insomnia to an alarming extent, but whether it was due to the noise of the machinery, or to nervousness, I know not.
I turned and turned in my narrow berth, but could not sleep. The atmosphere seemed stifling, in spite of the ventilators; and I dared not open the port-hole, fearing a sudden douche, for a wind had sprung up and we were rolling heavily. The jingle of the glasses on the toilet-stand, the vibration, the tramping of the sailors overhead, the roar of the funnels, all rendered sleep utterly impossible.
At last I could stand it no longer. I rose and dressed, putting on a big driving-coat. Then, with a thick shawl about my head, I went up on deck. The fresh air might perhaps do me good, I thought. At any rate, it was a remedy worth trying.
The night, so brilliant a couple of hours before, had become dark and stormy; the wind was so boisterous that I walked with difficulty; and the fact that the awnings had been reefed showed that Davis, the skipper, anticipated a squall.
The deck was deserted. Only on the bridge could I see, above the strip of sheltering canvas, two shadowy figures in oilskins, keeping watch. Save for those figures, I was utterly alone. On my way towards the stern I passed the small deck-house, which old Mr. Keppel had reserved as his own den.
The green silk blinds were always drawn across the port-holes, and the door always remained locked. No one ever entered there, although many had been the speculations regarding the private cabin when we had first sailed.
The millionaire himself had, however, given an explanation one day at luncheon.
"I always reserve, both in my houses and here, on board the Vispera, one room as my own. I hope all of you will excuse me this. As you know, I have a good many affairs to attend to, and I hate to have my papers thrown into disorder."
Personally, I suspected him of having a lathe there, so that he might pursue his hobby of ivory-turning, but the majority of the guests accepted his explanation that this deck-house was his study, and that he did not wish them to pry there.