There was the sound of chimes in the passageway then, announcing lunch. Goddard excused himself and took the pitcher back to his cabin. There was a dividend in it, which he poured and drank as he dumped the ice in the basin, still thinking idly of Madeleine Lennox. He went aft to the dining saloon. There were two tables, each seating eight, extending fore-and-aft on opposite sides of the room, but only the port one was used. Captain Steen sat at the aft end of it, with Karen Brooke on his right and Madeleine Lennox on his left. Goddard looked inquiringly at the dining room steward.
‘You sit there,’ the latter said, indicating the place next to Madeleine Lennox. He was a heavyset youth with a florid and rather sullen face. Goddard sat down, wondering what luck of the draw had placed him again within range of that gregarious left leg. Or was it luck? At the same moment Mr. Krasicki entered. He seemed uncertain as to where he was to sit, and the steward indicated the chair next to Karen Brooke. The two women smiled at him, and Captain Steen said, ‘We’re very glad to see you up, Mr. Krasicki.’ The latter nodded and attempted a smile, but said nothing. Goddard noted there were two other places set, the one at his left, and the one at the forward end of the table, which would no doubt be Lind’s. The steward made no move to serve the soup, and Captain Steen appeared to be waiting for something.
‘Mr. Egerton said he didn’t want any lunch,’ the steward said. ‘And Mr. Lind won’t be here.’
Captain Steen nodded, lowered his head, and said grace. When he had finished, Krasicki asked, ‘That is the other passenger, Mr. Egger—Edger—?’
‘That’s right, you haven’t met him, have you?’ Mrs. Lennox said. ‘It’s Mr. Egerton. You’ll like him; he’s very nice.’
She turned to Goddard and went on brightly, ‘He’s English. A retired colonel.’
Krasicki interrupted, his face screwed into a frown of intense concentration as though he had difficulty following her. ‘An English, you say?’
‘Yes,’ Madeleine Lennox replied. ‘But he’s been living in Argentina.’
The steward had begun serving the soup, but Krasicki paid no attention to it. He was still staring at Madeleine Lennox with that rapt concentration. ‘For many years?’ he asked. Goddard noted at the same time that Karen had turned and was looking at Krasicki thoughtfully. Madeleine Lennox replied that she didn’t know how long.
Krasicki appeared to become self-conscious under their regard and mumbled, ‘You must excuse me. I have little English.’ The corner of his mouth began to twitch. He lowered his head over his soup and began to eat it rapidly.
Both women then demanded Goddard tell them what had happened to the yacht. With apologies to Captain Steen, who’d already heard it, he gave an understated account of the affair, hoping he wouldn’t have to go through it again for Egerton.
Still feeling some of the aftereffects of his three-day ordeal, he took a nap after lunch. It was nearly five when he awoke, logy and dispirited. He showered and went on deck to walk off some of the torpor. After a few laps he mounted to the boat deck. Lind was on the wing of the bridge. Goddard made a gesture of greeting but didn’t go forward; as a passenger he had no right on the bridge unless invited. He was walking back and forth along the starboard side when the wireless operator came up the ladder aft and passed him with a blank stare. He was carrying a message form. At the same time Captain Steen emerged from the wheelhouse. He read the message, and called out to Goddard. Goddard walked forward.
‘It’s the confirmation from our agents in San Pedro,’ Steen said. ‘They’ve received the deposit.’
‘Good. Fast work,’ Goddard said.
The wireless operator spoke to Captain Steen. ‘The station in Buenos Aires has a message for us, but I haven’t been able to raise him yet.’
‘Well, keep trying, Sparks,’ Steen said. The wireless operator nodded and left. ‘Buenos Aires?’ Steen said, puzzled. ‘I wonder what that could be. Unless it’s for one of the passengers.’
‘One of my girl friends wishing me a happy birthday,’ Lind said. He winked at Goddard. ‘They pour in from all over the world.’
Goddard went back to his cabin, mixed a pitcher of martinis, and lay back on the bunk propped on two pillows as he stared moodily up at the ceiling. So? After Manila, what? Where did you go from there? And why? Consider the noblest of the apes, he thought; the only rational animal, by his own admission. He throws in another gallon of adrenaline and goes bounding over the landscape like a goosed gazelle to save his life, and then after he saves it he stops and looks back and says, what the hell am I running for, my name’s not Smith. He was roused from these somber reflections by the sound of chimes in the passageway. He finished the martini and went back to the dining room. Karen and Madeleine Lennox were already there, standing talking to Captain Steen. He suddenly remembered he’d forgotten all about the drink he’d promised Mrs. Lennox.
She hadn’t. Somewhat overdressed and made-up, she accused him archly as he walked in, ‘Mr. Goddard, I must inform you your verbal promise isn’t worth the paper it’s written on.’
‘Guilty, with extenuating circumstances, Your Honor,’ Goddard said with a grin. I dozed off.’ He turned to Karen. ‘Mrs. Brooke, if I’m typical of the characters you save, I wouldn’t blame you if you went into some other line of work.’
She smiled, and said, I don’t believe you’ve met Mr. Egerton.’ Goddard turned. Egerton had just entered behind him, looking very striking with the neat gray hair and moustache, the black eye-patch, and a white jacket over a white sport shirt. He shook hands warmly, and said, ‘Welcome aboard, Mr. Goddard.’ Beaming at the two women, he added, ‘Sporting of you, I must say, to go to all that trouble so we’d have a fourth for bridge.’
Lind came in then, and they sat down. Egerton was on Goddard’s left, next to Lind at the end of the table. This was the side of the table next to the bulkhead, so they were facing toward the doorway. Just as Captain Steen was about to say grace, Krasicki appeared in the door. He stopped abruptly, staring at Egerton. Goddard, watching him, was aware of something faintly disturbing about it. Krasicki gave a start then, and came on in. Karen spoke to him kindly.
‘I think you’ve met everyone except Mr. Egerton. This is Mr. Krasicki.’
Egerton stood up and held out his hand. ‘Delighted, Mr. Krasicki. And happy to see you’re feeling better.’
Krasicki mumbled something and shook hands. They sat down, Krasicki directly across from Goddard. Captain Steen said grace, and the steward began to take their orders. Egerton turned to Goddard, and said, ‘I understand you’re in the cinema.’
‘I used to be,’ Goddard said.
‘He’s gathering material for his next opus,’ Lind said. ‘Across the Pacific on a Hot-Water Bottle.’
There was a laugh, and Captain Steen inquired, ‘Was your boat insured?’
‘No,’ Goddard said. ‘The theory was that if it went to the bottom, the odds were that I would too. Sound, I thought, but Mrs. Brooke loused it up.’
‘Women,’ Egerton agreed, ‘are incapable of understanding dedication to a scientific principle.’
‘Exactly,’ Lind said. ‘You have to feel sorry for them. They never experience the deep personal satisfaction of being dead and knowing they were right.’
‘Karen,’ Mrs. Lennox remarked. ‘I think we’re outnumbered. Should we counterattack or retreat?’
‘Maybe Mr. Krasicki is on our side,’ Karen replied. She turned and smiled at the Pole, trying to put him at ease in this exchange that was obviously too much for his English. But the latter was paying no attention. He was staring across the table again at Walter Egerton with almost maniac intensity.