It will doubtless appear to the critical reader that my expenditure of interest had been out of proportion to the vulgar appearances of which my story gives an account, but to this I can only reply that the event was to justify me.We sighted land, the dim yet rich coast of Ireland, about sunset, and I leaned on the bulwark and took it in.
"It doesn't look like much, does it?" I heard a voice say, beside me;whereupon, turning, I found Grace Mavis at hand.Almost for the first time she had her veil up, and I thought her very pale.
"It will be more tomorrow," I said.
"Oh yes, a great deal more."
"The first sight of land, at sea, changes everything," I went on.
"It always affects me as waking up from a dream.It's a return to reality."For a moment she made me no response; then she said "It doesn't look very real yet.""No, and meanwhile, this lovely evening, one can put it that the dream's still present."She looked up at the sky, which had a brightness, though the light of the sun had left it and that of the stars hadn't begun."It IS a lovely evening.""Oh yes, with this we shall do."
She stood some moments more, while the growing dusk effaced the line of the land more rapidly than our progress made it distinct.She said nothing more, she only looked in front of her; but her very quietness prompted me to something suggestive of sympathy and service.It was difficult indeed to strike the right note--some things seemed too wide of the mark and others too importunate.At last, unexpectedly, she appeared to give me my chance.Irrelevantly, abruptly she broke out: "Didn't you tell me you knew Mr.
Porterfield?"
"Dear me, yes--I used to see him.I've often wanted to speak to you of him."She turned her face on me and in the deepened evening I imagined her more pale."What good would that do?""Why it would be a pleasure," I replied rather foolishly.
"Do you mean for you?"
"Well, yes--call it that," I smiled.
"Did you know him so well?"
My smile became a laugh and I lost a little my confidence."You're not easy to make speeches to.""I hate speeches!" The words came from her lips with a force that surprised me; they were loud and hard.But before I had time to wonder she went on a little differently."Shall you know him when you see him?""Perfectly, I think." Her manner was so strange that I had to notice it in some way, and I judged the best way was jocularly; so I added:
"Shan't you?"
"Oh perhaps you'll point him out!" And she walked quickly away.As I looked after her there came to me a perverse, rather a provoking consciousness of having during the previous days, and especially in speaking to Jasper Nettlepoint, interfered with her situation in some degree to her loss.There was an odd pang for me in seeing her move about alone; I felt somehow responsible for it and asked myself why Icouldn't have kept my hands off.I had seen Jasper in the smoking-room more than once that day, as I passed it, and half an hour before this had observed, through the open door, that he was there.He had been with her so much that without him she now struck one as bereaved and forsaken.This was really better, no doubt, but superficially it moved--and I admit with the last inconsequence--one's pity.Mrs.
Peck would doubtless have assured me that their separation was gammon: they didn't show together on deck and in the saloon, but they made it up elsewhere.The secret places on shipboard are not numerous; Mrs.Peck's "elsewhere" would have been vague, and I know not what licence her imagination took.It was distinct that Jasper had fallen off, but of course what had passed between them on this score wasn't so and could never be.Later on, through his mother, Ihad HIS version of that, but I may remark that I gave it no credit.
Poor Mrs.Nettlepoint, on the other hand, was of course to give it all.I was almost capable, after the girl had left me, of going to my young man and saying: "After all, do return to her a little, just till we get in! It won't make any difference after we land." And Idon't think it was the fear he would tell me I was an idiot that prevented me.At any rate the next time I passed the door of the smoking-room I saw he had left it.I paid my usual visit to Mrs.
Nettlepoint that night, but I troubled her no further about Miss Mavis.She had made up her mind that everything was smooth and settled now, and it seemed to me I had worried her, and that she had worried herself, in sufficiency.I left her to enjoy the deepening foretaste of arrival, which had taken possession of her mind.Before turning in I went above and found more passengers on deck than I had ever seen so late.Jasper moved about among them alone, but Iforbore to join him.The coast of Ireland had disappeared, but the night and the sea were perfect.On the way to my cabin, when I came down, I met the stewardess in one of the passages, and the idea entered my head to say to her: "Do you happen to know where Miss Mavis is?""Why she's in her room, sir, at this hour.""Do you suppose I could speak to her?" It had come into my mind to ask her why she had wanted to know of me if I should recognise Mr.
Porterfield.
"No sir," said the stewardess; "she has gone to bed.""That's all right." And I followed the young lady's excellent example.
The next morning, while I dressed, the steward of my side of the ship came to me as usual to see what I wanted.But the first thing he said to, me was: "Rather a bad job, sir--a passenger missing." And while I took I scarce know what instant chill from it, "A lady, sir,"he went on--"whom I think you knew.Poor Miss Mavis, sir.""MISSING?" I cried--staring at him and horror-stricken.
"She's not on the ship.They can't find her.""Then where to God is she?"
I recall his queer face."Well sir, I suppose you know that as well as I.""Do you mean she has jumped overboard?"
"Some time in the night, sir--on the quiet.But it's beyond every one, the way she escaped notice.They usually sees 'em, sir.It must have been about half-past two.Lord, but she was sharp, sir.
