(Anne’s Narrative1 Resumed)
It is most undignified for a heroine to be seasick2. In books the more it rollsand tosses, the better she likes it. When everybody else is ill, she alonestaggers along the deck, braving the elements and positively3 rejoicing inthe storm. I regret to say that at the first roll the Kilmorden gave, I turnedpale and hastened below. A sympathetic stewardess4 received me. She sug-gested dry toast and ginger6 ale.
I remained groaning7 in my cabin for three days. Forgotten was myquest. I had no longer any interest in solving mysteries. I was a totally dif-ferent Anne to the one who had rushed back to the South Kensingtonsquare so jubilantly from the shipping8 office.
I smiled now as I remember my abrupt9 entry into the drawing room.
Mrs. Flemming was alone there. She turned her head as I entered.
“Is that you, Anne, my dear? There is something I want to talk over withyou.”
“Yes?” I said, curbing10 my impatience11.
“Miss Emery is leaving me.” Miss Emery was the governess. “As youhave not yet succeeded in finding anything, I wondered if you would care—it would be so nice if you remained with us altogether?”
I was touched. She didn’t want me, I knew. It was sheer Christian12 char-ity that prompted the offer. I felt remorseful13 for my secret criticism of her.
Getting up, I ran impulsively14 across the room and flung my arms roundher neck.
“You’re a dear,” I said. “A dear, a dear, a dear! And thank you ever somuch. But it’s all right, I’m off to South Africa on Saturday.”
My abrupt onslaught had startled the good lady. She was not used tosudden demonstrations15 of affection. My words startled her still more.
“To South Africa? My dear Anne. We would have to look into anythingof that kind very carefully.”
That was the last thing I wanted. I explained that I had already taken mypassage, and that upon arrival I proposed to take up duties as a parlour-maid. It was the only thing I could think of on the spur of the moment.
There was, I said, a great demand for parlourmaids in South Africa. I as-sured her that I was equal to taking care of myself, and in the end, with asigh of relief at getting me off her hands, she accepted the project withoutfurther query17. At parting, she slipped an envelope into my hand. Inside it Ifound five new crisp five-pound notes and the words: “I hope you will notbe offended and will accept this with my love.” She was a very good, kindwoman. I could not have continued to live in the same house with her, butI did recognize her intrinsic worth.
So here I was, with twenty-five pounds in my pocket, facing the worldand pursuing my adventure.
It was on the fourth day that the stewardess finally urged me up ondeck. Under the impression that I should die quicker below, I had stead-fastly refused to leave my bunk19. She now tempted20 me with the advent18 ofMadeira. Hope rose in my breast. I could leave the boat and go ashore21 andbe a parlourmaid there. Anything for dry land.
Muffled22 in coats and rugs, and weak as a kitten on my legs, I was hauledup and deposited, an inert23 mass, on a deck chair. I lay there with my eyesclosed, hating life. The purser, a fair-haired young man, with a round boy-ish face, came and sat down beside me.
“Hullo! Feeling rather sorry for yourself, eh?”
“Yes,” I replied, hating him.
“Ah, you won’t know yourself in another day or two. We’ve had a rathernasty dusting in the Bay, but there’s smooth weather ahead. I’ll be takingyou on at quoits tomorrow.”
I did not reply.
“Think you’ll never recover, eh? But I’ve seen people much worse thanyou, and two days later they were the life and soul of the ship. You’ll bethe same.”
I did not feel sufficiently24 pugnacious25 to tell him outright26 that he was aliar. I endeavoured to convey it by a glance. He chatted pleasantly for afew minutes more, then he mercifully departed. People passed and re-passed, brisk couples “exercising,” curveting children, laughing youngpeople. A few other pallid27 sufferers lay, like myself, in deck chairs.
The air was pleasant, crisp, not too cold, and the sun was shiningbrightly. Insensibly, I felt a little cheered. I began to watch the people. Onewoman in particular attracted me. She was about thirty, of medium heightand very fair with a round dimpled face and very blue eyes. Her clothes,though perfectly28 plain, had that indefinable air of “cut” about them whichspoke of Paris. Also, in a pleasant but self-possessed way, she seemed toown the ship!
Deck stewards30 ran to and fro obeying her commands. She had a specialdeck chair, and an apparently31 inexhaustible supply of cushions. Shechanged her mind three times as to where she would like it placed.
Throughout everything she remained attractive and charming. She ap-peared to be one of those rare people in the world who know what theywant, see that they get it, and manage to do so without being offensive. Idecided that if ever I recovered — but of course I shouldn’t — it wouldamuse me to talk to her.
We reached Madeira about midday. I was still too inert to move, but Ienjoyed the picturesque- looking merchants who came on board andspread their merchandise about the decks. There were flowers too. I bur-ied my nose in an enormous bunch of sweet wet violets and felt distinctlybetter. In fact, I thought I might just possibly last out the end of the voy-age. When my stewardess spoke29 of the attractions of a little chicken broth,I only protested feebly. When it came I enjoyed it.
My attractive woman had been ashore. She came back escorted by a tall,soldierly-looking man with dark hair and a bronzed face whom I had no-ticed striding up and down the deck earlier in the day. I put him down atonce as one of the strong silent men of Rhodesia. He was about forty, witha touch of greying hair at either temple, and was easily the best-lookingman on board.
When the stewardess brought me up an extra rug, I asked her if sheknew who my attractive woman was.
“That’s a well- known society lady, the Hon. Mrs. Clarence Blair. Youmust have read about her in the papers.”
I nodded, looking at her with renewed interest. Mrs. Blair was very well-known indeed as one of the smartest women of the day. I observed, withsome amusement, that she was the centre of a good deal of attention. Sev-eral people essayed to scrape acquaintance with the pleasant informalitythat a boat allows. I admired the polite way that Mrs. Blair snubbed them.
She appeared to have adopted the strong, silent man as her special cava-lier, and he seemed duly sensible of the privilege accorded him.
The following morning, to my surprise, after taking a few turns roundthe deck with her attentive34 companion, Mrs. Blair came to a halt by mychair.
“Feeling better this morning?”
I thanked her, and said I felt slightly more like a human being.
“You did look ill yesterday. Colonel Race and I decided32 that we shouldhave the excitement of a funeral at sea—but you’ve disappointed us.”
I laughed.
“Being up in the air has done me good.”
“Nothing like fresh air,” said Colonel Race, smiling.
“Being shut up in those stuffy35 cabins would kill anyone,” declared Mrs.
Blair, dropping into a seat by my side and dismissing her companion witha little nod. “You’ve got an outside one, I hope?”
I shook my head.
“My dear girl! Why don’t you change? There’s plenty of room. A lot ofpeople got off at Madeira, and the boat’s very empty. Talk to the purserabout it. He’s a nice little boy—he changed me into a beautiful cabin be-cause I didn’t care for the one I’d got. You talk to him at lunchtime whenyou go down.”
I shuddered36.
“I couldn’t move.”
“Don’t be silly. Come and take a walk now with me.”
She dimpled at me encouragingly. I felt very weak on my legs at first,but as we walked briskly up and down I began to feel a brighter and betterbeing.
After a turn or two, Colonel Race joined us again.
“You can see the Grand Peak of Tenerife from the other side.”
“Can we? Can I get a photograph of it, do you think?”
“No—but that won’t deter37 you from snapping off at it.”
Mrs. Blair laughed.
“You are unkind. Some of my photographs are very good.”
“About three percent effective, I should say.”
We all went round to the other side of the deck. There, glimmeringwhite and snowy, enveloped38 in a delicate rose- coloured mist, rose theglistening pinnacle39. I uttered an exclamation40 of delight. Mrs. Blair ran forher camera.
Undeterred by Colonel Race’s sardonic41 comments, she snapped vigor-ously:
“There, that’s the end of the roll. Oh,” her tone changed to one of chag-rin, “I’ve had the thing at ‘bulb’ all the time.”
“I always like to see a child with a new toy,” murmured the Colonel.
“How horrid42 you are—but I’ve got another roll.”
She produced it in triumph from the pocket of her sweater. A suddenroll of the boat upset her balance, and as she caught at the rail to steadyherself the roll of films flashed over the side.
“Oh!” cried Mrs. Blair, comically dismayed. She leaned over. “Do youthink they have gone overboard?”
“No, you may have been fortunate enough to brain an unlucky stewardin the deck below.”
A small boy who had arrived unobserved a few paces to our rear blew adeafening blast on a bugle43.
“Lunch,” declared Mrs. Blair ecstatically. “I’ve had nothing to eat sincebreakfast, except two cups of beef tea. Lunch, Miss Beddingfeld?”
“Well,” I said waveringly. “Yes, I do feel rather hungry.”
“Splendid. You’re sitting at the purser’s table, I know. Tackle him aboutthe cabin.”
I found my way down to the saloon, began to eat gingerly, and finishedby consuming an enormous meal. My friend of yesterday congratulatedme on my recovery. Everyone was changing cabins today, he told me, andhe promised that my things should be moved to an outside one withoutdelay.
There were only four at our table. Myself, a couple of elderly ladies, anda missionary44 who talked a lot about “our poor black brothers.”
I looked round at the other tables. Mrs. Blair was sitting at the Captain’stable. Colonel Race next to her. On the other side of the Captain was a dis-tinguished-looking, grey-haired man. A good many people I had alreadynoticed on deck, but there was one man who had not previously45 appeared.
Had he done so, he could hardly have escaped my notice. He was tall anddark, and had such a peculiarly sinister47 type of countenance48 that I wasquite startled. I asked the purser, with some curiosity, who he was.
“That man? Oh, that’s Sir Eustace Pedler’s secretary. Been very seasick,poor chap, and not appeared before. Sir Eustace has got two secretarieswith him, and the sea’s been too much for both of them. The other fellowhasn’t turned up yet. This man’s name is Pagett.”
So Sir Eustace Pedler, the owner of the Mill House, was on board. Prob-ably only a coincidence, and yet—
“That’s Sir Eustace,” my informant continued, “sitting next to the Cap-tain. Pompous49 old ass16.”
The more I studied the secretary’s face, the less I liked it. Its even pallor,the secretive, heavy-lidded eyes, the curiously50 flattened51 head—it all gave afeeling of distaste, of apprehension52.
Leaving the saloon at the same time as he did, I was close behind him ashe went up on deck. He was speaking to Sir Eustace, and I overheard afragment or two.
“I’ll see about the cabin at once then, shall I? It’s impossible to work inyours, with all your trunks.”
“My dear fellow,” Sir Eustace replied. “My cabin is intended (a) for me tosleep in, and (b) to attempt to dress in. I never had any intentions of allow-ing you to sprawl53 about the place making an infernal clicking with thattypewriter of yours.”
“That’s just what I say, Sir Eustace, we must have somewhere to work—”
Here I parted company from them, and went below to see if my removalwas in progress. I found my steward5 busy at the task.
“Very nice cabin, miss. On D deck. No. 13.”
“Oh, no!” I cried. “Not 13.”
13 is the one thing I am superstitious54 about. It was a nice cabin too. I in-spected it, wavered, but a foolish superstition55 prevailed. I appealed almosttearfully to the steward.
“Isn’t there any other cabin I can have?”
The steward reflected.
“Well, there’s 17, just along the starboard side. That was empty thismorning, but I rather fancy it’s been allotted56 to someone. Still, as the gen-tleman’s things aren’t in yet, and as gentlemen aren’t anything like so su-perstitious as ladies, I daresay he wouldn’t mind changing.”
I hailed the proposition gratefully, and the steward departed to obtainpermission from the purser. He returned grinning.
“That’s all right, miss. We can go along.”
He led the way to 17. It was not quite as large as No. 13, but I found iteminently satisfactory.
“I’ll fetch your things right away, miss,” said the steward.
But at that moment the man with the sinister face (as I had nicknamedhim) appeared in the doorway57.
“Excuse me,” he said, “but this cabin is reserved for the use of Sir Eu-stace Pedler.”
“That’s all right, sir,” explained the steward. “We’re fitting up No. 13 in-stead.”
“No, it was No. 17 I was to have.”
“No. 13 is a better cabin, sir—larger.”
“I specially58 selected No. 17, and the purser said I could have it.”
“I’m sorry,” I said coldly. “But No. 17 has been allotted to me.”
“I can’t agree to that.”
The steward put in his oar33.
“The other cabin’s just the same, only better.”
“I want No. 17.”
“What’s all this?” demanded a new voice. “Steward, put my things inhere. This is my cabin.”
It was my neighbour at lunch, the Rev46. Edward Chichester.
“I beg your pardon,” I said. “It’s my cabin.”
“It is allotted to Sir Eustace Pedler,” said Mr. Pagett.
We were all getting rather heated.
“I’m sorry to have to dispute the matter,” said Chichester with a meeksmile which failed to mask his determination to get his own way. Meekmen are always obstinate59, I have noticed.
He edged himself sideways into the doorway.
“You’re to have No. 28 on the port side,” said the steward. “A very goodcabin, sir.”
“I am afraid that I must insist. No. 17 was the cabin promised to me.”
We had come to an impasse60. Each one of us was determined61 not to giveway. Strictly62 speaking, I, at any rate, might have retired63 from the contestand eased matters by offering to accept Cabin 28. So long as I did not have13 it was immaterial to me what other cabin I had. But my blood was up. Ihad not the least intention of being the first to give way. And I dislikedChichester. He had false teeth that clicked when he ate. Many men havebeen hated for less.
We all said the same things over again. The steward assured us, evenmore strongly, that both the other cabins were better cabins. None of uspaid any attention to him.
Pagett began to lose his temper. Chichester kept his serenely64. With an ef-fort I also kept mine. And still none of us would give way an inch.
A wink65 and a whispered word from the steward gave me my cue. Ifaded unobtrusively from the scene. I was lucky enough to encounter thepurser almost immediately.
“Oh, please,” I said, “you did say I could have cabin 17? And the otherswon’t go away. Mr. Chichester and Mr. Pagett. You will let me have it,won’t you?”
I always say that there are no people like sailors for being nice to wo-men. My little purser came to scratch splendidly. He strode to the scene,informed the disputants that No. 17 was my cabin, they could have Nos 13and 28 respectively or stay where they were—whichever they chose.
I permitted my eyes to tell him what a hero he was and then installedmyself in my new domain66. The encounter had done me worlds of good.
The sea was smooth, the weather growing daily warmer. Seasickness67 wasa thing of the past!
I went up on deck and was initiated68 into the mysteries of deck quoits. Ientered my name for various sports. Tea was served on deck, and I ateheartily. After tea, I played shovelboard with some pleasant young men.
They were extraordinarily69 nice to me. I felt that life was satisfactory anddelightful.
The dressing70 bugle came as a surprise and I hurried to my new cabin.
The stewardess was awaiting me with a troubled face.
“There’s a terrible smell in your cabin, miss. What it is, I’m sure I can’tthink, but I doubt if you’ll be able to sleep here. There’s a deck cabin up onC deck. You might move into that—just for the night, anyway.”
The smell really was pretty bad—quite nauseating71. I told the stewardessI would think over the question of moving whilst I dressed. I hurried overmy toilet, sniffing72 distastefully as I did so.
What was the smell? Dead rat? No, worse than that—and quite different.
Yet I knew it! It was something I had smelt73 before. Something—Ah! I hadgot it. Asafoetida! I had worked in a hospital dispensary during the warfor a short time and had become acquainted with various nauseous drugs.
Asafoetida, that was it. But how—
I sank down on the sofa, suddenly realizing the thing. Somebody hadput a pinch of asafoetida in my cabin. Why? So that I should vacate it?
Why were they so anxious to get me out? I thought of the scene this after-noon from a rather different point of view. What was it about Cabin 17that made so many people anxious to get hold of it? The other two cabinswere better cabins; why had both men insisted on sticking to 17?
17. How the number persisted! It was on the 17th I had sailed fromSouthampton. It was a 17—I stopped with a sudden gasp74. Quickly I un-locked my suitcase, and took my precious paper from its place of conceal-ment in some rolled stockings.
17 1 22—I had taken that for a date, the date of departure of the Kilmor-den Castle. Supposing I was wrong. When I came to think of it, would any-one, writing down a date, think it necessary to put the year as well as themonth? Supposing 17 meant Cabin 17? and 1? The time—one o’clock. Then22 must be the date. I looked up at my little almanac.
Tomorrow was the 22nd!
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1
narrative
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| n.叙述，故事；adj.叙事的，故事体的 | |
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seasick
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| adj.晕船的 | |
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positively
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| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
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stewardess
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| n.空中小姐，女乘务员 | |
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steward
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| n.乘务员，服务员；看管人；膳食管理员 | |
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ginger
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| n.姜，精力，淡赤黄色；adj.淡赤黄色的；vt.使活泼，使有生气 | |
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groaning
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| adj. 呜咽的, 呻吟的 动词groan的现在分词形式 | |
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shipping
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| n.船运（发货，运输，乘船） | |
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abrupt
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| adj.突然的，意外的；唐突的，鲁莽的 | |
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curbing
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| n.边石，边石的材料v.限制，克制，抑制( curb的现在分词 ) | |
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impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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remorseful
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| adj.悔恨的 | |
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impulsively
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| adv.冲动地 | |
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demonstrations
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| 证明( demonstration的名词复数 )； 表明； 表达； 游行示威 | |
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ass
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| n.驴；傻瓜，蠢笨的人 | |
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query
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| n.疑问，问号，质问；vt.询问，表示怀疑 | |
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advent
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| n.(重要事件等的)到来，来临 | |
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bunk
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| n.(车、船等倚壁而设的)铺位；废话 | |
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tempted
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| v.怂恿（某人）干不正当的事；冒…的险（tempt的过去分词） | |
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ashore
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| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
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muffled
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| adj.（声音）被隔的；听不太清的；（衣服）裹严的；蒙住的v.压抑，捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
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inert
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| adj.无活动能力的，惰性的；迟钝的 | |
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sufficiently
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pugnacious
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outright
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pallid
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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stewards
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| （轮船、飞机等的）乘务员( steward的名词复数 )； （俱乐部、旅馆、工会等的）管理员； （大型活动的）组织者； （私人家中的）管家 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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oar
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| n.桨，橹，划手；v.划行 | |
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attentive
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| adj.注意的，专心的；关心(别人)的，殷勤的 | |
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stuffy
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| adj.不透气的，闷热的 | |
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shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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deter
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| vt.阻止，使不敢，吓住 | |
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enveloped
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| v.包围，笼罩，包住( envelop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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pinnacle
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exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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sardonic
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| adj.嘲笑的，冷笑的，讥讽的 | |
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horrid
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| adj.可怕的；令人惊恐的；恐怖的；极讨厌的 | |
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bugle
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missionary
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| adj.教会的，传教(士)的；n.传教士 | |
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previously
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| adv.以前，先前（地） | |
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rev
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sinister
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| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
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countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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pompous
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| adj.傲慢的，自大的；夸大的；豪华的 | |
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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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flattened
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| [医]（水）平扁的，弄平的 | |
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apprehension
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| n.理解，领悟；逮捕，拘捕；忧虑 | |
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53
sprawl
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| vi.躺卧，扩张，蔓延；vt.使蔓延；n.躺卧，蔓延 | |
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54
superstitious
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| adj.迷信的 | |
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55
superstition
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| n.迷信，迷信行为 | |
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56
allotted
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| 分配，拨给，摊派( allot的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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57
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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58
specially
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| adv.特定地；特殊地；明确地 | |
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59
obstinate
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| adj.顽固的，倔强的，不易屈服的，较难治愈的 | |
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60
impasse
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| n.僵局；死路 | |
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61
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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62
strictly
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| adv.严厉地，严格地；严密地 | |
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63
retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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64
serenely
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| adv.安详地，宁静地，平静地 | |
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65
wink
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| n.眨眼，使眼色，瞬间；v.眨眼，使眼色，闪烁 | |
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66
domain
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| n.(活动等)领域，范围；领地，势力范围 | |
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67
seasickness
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| n.晕船 | |
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68
initiated
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| n. 创始人 adj. 新加入的 vt. 开始，创始，启蒙，介绍加入 | |
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69
extraordinarily
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| adv.格外地；极端地 | |
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70
dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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71
nauseating
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| adj.令人恶心的，使人厌恶的v.使恶心，作呕( nauseate的现在分词 ) | |
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72
sniffing
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| n.探查法v.以鼻吸气，嗅，闻( sniff的现在分词 )；抽鼻子（尤指哭泣、患感冒等时出声地用鼻子吸气）；抱怨，不以为然地说 | |
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73
smelt
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| v.熔解，熔炼；n.银白鱼，胡瓜鱼 | |
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74
gasp
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| n.喘息，气喘；v.喘息；气吁吁他说 | |
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