CHAPTER XVI

I got an opportunity of tackling Colonel Race on the following

morning. The auction of the sweep had just been concluded, and we

walked up and down the deck together.

“How’s the gipsy this morning? Longing for land and her caravan?”

I shook my head.

“Now that the sea is behaving so nicely, I feel I should like to

stay on it for ever and ever.”

“What enthusiasm!”

“Well, isn’t it lovely this morning?”

We leant together over the rail. It was a glassy calm. The sea

looked as though it had been oiled. There were great patches of

colour on it, blue, pale green, emerald, purple and deep orange,

like a cubist picture. There was an occasional flash of silver that

showed the flying fish. The air was moist and warm, almost sticky.

Its breath was like a perfumed caress.

“That was a very interesting story you told us last night,” I said,

breaking the silence.

“Which one?”

“The one about the diamonds.”

“I believe women are always interested in diamonds.”

“Of course we are. By the way, what became of the other young man?

You said there were two of them.”

“Young Lucas? Well, of course, they couldn’t prosecute one without

the other, so he went scot-free too.”

“And what happened to him—eventually, I mean. Does any one know?”

Colonel Race was looking straight ahead of him out to sea. His face

was as devoid of expression as a mask, but I had an idea that he

did not like my questions. Nevertheless, he replied readily enough:

“He went to the War and acquitted himself bravely. He was reported

Missing and Wounded—believed killed.”

That told me what I wanted to know. I asked no more. But more than

ever I wondered how much Colonel Race knew. The part he was playing

in all this puzzled me.

One other thing I did. That was to interview the night steward.

With a little financial encouragement, I soon got him to talk.

“The lady wasn’t frightened, was she, miss? It seemed a harmless

sort of joke. A bet, or so I understood.”

I got it all out of him, little by little. On the voyage from Cape

Town to England one of the passengers had handed him a roll of

films with instructions that they were to be dropped onto the bunk

in Cabin 71 at 1 a.m. on January 22nd on the outward journey. A

lady would be occupying the cabin, and the affair was described as

a bet. I gathered that the steward had been liberally paid for his