And Then What!

Auckland Star, Volume LXX, Issue 30, 6 February 1939, Page 17

And Then What!

By H. £. B. CATLEY

A M<>V. t lie passengers aboard the Hal. am- who waxed to relatives and friends on the qimy as the liner drew out midst renin at Tilbury, on a grey i let olier morning, wa« young .lean Skipwit 11. Jeah liad never been, on water before, not e\ 4'n in n tinv boat on the Seqienlinc. so that the rippling surface of the Thames, the throb of the ship's engines, tile Ini-tle and chatter round about her! mid tlie slowly-changing panorama of dork side lite were new to her. These tliinurt formed the prelude to a great advent m e a three weeks' voyage."contact. with foreign lan<ls#«pd new peoples en mute, and n stay dtf'tag, months in India and they made her' deliriously happy.

I ndI.I! l-iiiul of mystery and romance; • I !'■'""iil.inatioii of fabulous wealth iiiml indi'si-ribable poverty, of pageantry--11 n«I -.|iuilnr. learning and illiteracy; a vii- 1 conl inent of towering mountains mill endless pill ins, modern cities and virgin jungle, hundreds of millions of dark -kiiined peoples, and a handful of whites. Sin-It was the country that .lean to \Uit. assured that" everything lirve-sm \ for her comfort, and entertain" nieiit would lie provided or arranged by a In-other who appeared to have "money to Kuril."

"Aluhnm fascinates me. this sort of thiiiir." marl leaninjr on the rail l>\ her when Jean ceased to wave •ml tucked licr handkerchief in her coat. "A Hiiro of the great big world break li>- away from the parent body—and then wliat'/"

It wns a pleasing voice, and there Whs sen**, in his words. Out of the corner of her eye Jean saw a. heavy shoulder and bronzed face.

"What ?" she asked, almost unaware thut she spoke.

••Well "—he continued to look straight ahead "I've done the trip to and from th«. Kast 10 timed in the last six years, and 1 never begitf it without wondering what's going to happen before vt ends! The lust time a ruined business man threw himself overboard. The time before we struck the worst storm "

'■flease stop!" Jean interrupted him. "This is my tirst voyage, and I was just thinking how wonderful it all is. •nd will be. and you "

He looked down on her now. laughing heartily. "I'm sorry. T wa« on the point, of recalling more pleasant memories." A pause, while Jean met hi* frank scrutiny with as much calm as she could mtister. "So this is your first trip?"' • • • • Thus began a friendship that ripened quickly, and then . . . A gale rayed on the second night out at. sea. and the fury of the element* did not abate with "the coming of the dawn. Jean struggled up on deck, but febt « pang as the minutes passed without sight of Ralph Truscott. She succeeded in repressing it—in time to reply cheerfully to John- Perry'* "Well, well—nice to ses you up!" as they met in the music saloon. Ho wai a cheery person, in hi* early thirties, and No. 2 on Jean's list of kindred spirits who had contributed to the happy start of her great adventure. It wa« not long before No. l'a name cropped up in the conversation. "I heard a few minute* ago that he's had a bad turn," said Perry. "He underwent an operation of sorts in the summer, and wan apparently not quite right when he got on board. The buffeting last night did him a lot of harm." Jean did not tremble to hide her concern: "Would it be possible for me to see him, to tell him how sorry I am? He's been most kind and helpful." "I'll find out if he's well enough to receive visitors." "And will you come with me if he is?" "Certainly." The visit materialised that afternoon, and Jean saw a very different man from the gay philosopher whose question . . . "And then what?" . . . had so intrigued her when the voyage was yet minutes old. Because she knew something of the art she didn't hesitate to offer her services as nurse, and the patient seized on the suggestion with avidity. The "doc.," he was <ture, would be equally delighted with the offer. Romance move* with giant strides. After dinner, a few hour* later, John Perry approached Jean, looking out ever a comparatively calm sea. ."And how's the nurse . . . and patient?" ha asked, and Jean det«eted in his voice a note that didn't sound like banter. "May I offer jam • bit of advice I" he continued. Jean didn't want hie advice. No young woman, ih such circumstances, ever does want advice. She neHher moved nor •poke. But her companion was not to m put off. "I've travelled on ships before," he Mid softly, "and you haven't. Men and women come aboard of whom their fellows know nothing, and they Jiave to he accepted at their face value. They may be all right; they may, on the ether hand, be bounder* or blighters, but who can say? It's so easy to leave e past on shore, and start afresh on a •hip,..." i Jean didn't hear any more. What had been said already gave her quite enough to think About. It wte all very true. Fortunately, there warn still time to cry "Halt!" to romance. The man at her •ids talked on. Having made a sudden, •ecrot resolve, she wan in a position to grasp the meaning of hi* neat words: "When I went to inquire if Mr. Truscott conld receive visitors there was a photograph of a very beautiful lady on lii* dressing-table. It was not there when I returned with you." Jean had had enough. "I think I'll go and dance," she «ald abruptly, turned, crossed over to the port side where dancing was in progress, spotted a man ebe knew and who looked M if he would like a partner, and was soon whirling round the deck as if life had Rsver been such fun or so full of Sromise. All she hoped for was that ohn Perry was watching round some corner or other 1 and that he would realise how unnecessary had been hia advice and how superfluous hie story of a Vanished photograph. Nor did Jean let these thin* worry «r when she retired to her cabin. New (nditioM and unruly elements had prevented her from enjoying a full night's •tap since the voyage began, and It was ®ot long .before she lost herself in peaceful slumber. She did some serious thinking when •he returned to consciousness in the piorning, and deolded to keep a tight «old on herself, especially when acting in tho capacity of nurse. Satisfied that she could cope with any situation that confronted her, she jumped blithely out of her berth, donned a dressing gown, greeted her cabin companion cheerfully ft*. she thrust tiny feet into two pink slippers, and left for her bath.

But she didn't get there. A ship's met Iniirying down a staircase would »'t in itself have aroused a particular interest. Mit when a trembling, whiteaced stewardess was too tongue-tied to <'|>l\ to her "Good morning," Jean wa« lorced to ask what was wrong. um' A died last night, miss, a

.lean, her brain in a whirl and her n< art pounding within her, dashed back into her cabin.

V\hv what on earth's the matter?" asked .Mrs, Spencer, standing before the in "Tor "\ou look as if you'd seen a ghost!

•lean could not answer. It was otilv •y a supreme effort that she prevented herself from swooning. In maddening hammer-blows the cryptic question assailed her. ' And then what?" "Shall I send for the doctor?" asked Mrs Spencer, doing what she could with to prevent a collapse. A man has died," .lean managed to stammer eventually. "Please find out - who—it—is."

Tjoth to leave her. Mrs. Spencer put tier hr d out of the door. After what seemed an age .lean heard a whispered question. and then a man's voice speak the name "Perry." She knew nothing' more, for a long time.

It was a terrifying ordeal that she faced later in the day.

A kindly captain did his best to mitigate his inquisitiveness, but there were certain questions,he had to,ask: How long had Jean known the man who had been found in his cabin that morning— poisoned? What had they talked about the previous day and night? Had he, or she. said anything that might provide a clue to the my-stery?

Jean, sick at heart, told all she knew as best she could, and then came the heaviest blow of all.

"I'm afraid I must tell yon now, Miss Skipwith," said the captain softly, placing a hand on Jean's, white and trembling. "that Mr. Perry died from an overdose of veronal, given to him or taken by him in Truscott's cabin. He was seen coming out of there shortly before midnight. The bottle of the drug which Mr. Truscott is known to have had in his possession cannot be found." And then what? The htrtnmer blows rained afresh on poor Jean's tortured brain. She wanted to ask bow Ralph Truscott was, whether he was aware of the tragedy, whether he had made any statement, but she was afraid of the answer* she might receive. She recalled the fact that the two men had known each other before the voyage started. A suspicion of a lurking antagonism between them, which she had dismissed readily enough before, forced itself on her now. John Perry's innuendoes of the previous night and the story of the secreted photograph assumed at this time an irrepressible significance. Kapidly the conflicting tangle of fact and hideous fancy grew in her brain, ami only a sudden surrender to tears retained for her a semblance of conscious thought.

The captain walked noiselessly out of his cabin.

Had Jean been a little older she might have been able to tell herself that there was little for her to bother about. But she was young, a mere 22. She had dreamed dreams and seen visions' of a wonderful voyage, a great adventure— sunshine and laughter all tfce way. What curious twist of Fatp had led her into this sea of troubles? How different from anticipation wa« - 'm rc::lity! What time elapsed -iwceu the captain's exit from and Dr. Barclay's arrival in the cabin Jean couMii\ Ml. But she was calmer now and abla to listen to his report of the situation with a certain reeignation.

Truscott, Mid the doctor, had shown considerable improvement last night; all the morning, however, he had been in great pain, and it bad been decided to keep him in ignorance of the tragedy, while doing everything possible to give him the maximum of sleep. Not until he could conveniently be questioned would they know what had taken place between the two men and what had happened to the missing bottle of veronal. Jean was assisted to her cabin when the passengers were at lunch. She resolved to stay there, if she was allowed to do so, until the ship reached Marseilles. Then she was goinjy to part company with it —ill-liglitod, gruesome graveyard of all her hopes —and get back to England. Fog and rain, freezing nights and the humdrum life of a London suburb would be bliss after the blight of the last few hours. And then what?

In the privacy of her cabin she laughed, laughed grimly, aa the question recurred to her. , But just as staggering calamity can break without warning on the peaceful acmb, so can dark, ominous clouds dissolve to reveal a, sky of unbroken blue. Jean had decided, for the sake of propriety If nothing else, to go back on her offer to act as nurse. The patient either had no right to expect her to do otherwise or would have reason to sympathise with her decision. The doctor would understand.

How surprised she was, then, when Dr. Barclay, smiling just a little, entered her cabin after tea ana said, "The mystery, for the most part, has been cleared, Miss Skipworth. Shall we look in on our patient t"

Jean rose and followed him as one in a dream, but now the dread, eternal question seemed to assume a different significance. The doctor's whole demeanour gave her confidence and cause -for hope. She was oontent to wait for his or anyone else's elucidation of the ghastly events of the last twenty-four hours. A few minutes later, seated by his berth, she heard Ralph Truscott say in a weak, faltering voice:

"Perry was in a terrible jam, a fugitive from justice, * share-pusher who was destined for a long stretch just as soon as he was caught. He told me all about it la«t night, but when he left me I had. no idea that be meant to return for my veronal to do himself in. He'd served me to » dose and knew where it was kept." He paused and stretched out a. hand to Jean. "Sorrynurse—that you were dragged into the affair. Doc.'s told me as much as he knows. It must have been hell."

"And now the patient must remain quiet, Mil* Skipwith," Mid the doctor. "We are putting Win ashore at Marseilles. If V 9 could be certain of a quiet passage until we got to Bombay I'd be tempted to take a chance, but we are not, and the sooner he's stitched up again the better. We've not the paraphernalia to do the job on the ship." "V , . "A nurse is available for the journey to London," said Jean impulsively even before the doctor had finished speaking. And then, in answer to the surprised looks of both men, she added, "I bad already decided to get- off at MancMan.

Storm —sickness—suicide. Heavens! It's got me all of a heap, and I'm quitting. India can wait."

Thus spoke a young woman whose thoughts for months had centred on "the land of mystery and romance." Now she was quite willing that it should "wait." It would still be there next year or the year after!

"Lucky me," said Truscott when a discreet doctor slipped out of the room.

"Lucky ? You were critically ill 36 hours ago, and were apparently saved only by a change of weather."

"Still-more-lucky-me." he retorted. He tried to rise. "Will you marry met"

Well, it had been a voyage full of the most amazing surprises and shocks, but none had been as devastating as this. Jean didn't, Jean couldn't answer. She was relieved when Truscott spoke again. "There's a photograph in the top drawer of the dressing-table. I wonder if you'd be so good as to hand it to me." A bewildered Jean complied. '•Lovely, isn't sheT She's buried in Calcutta —the greatest sister and pal man ever had. I took her out with me on my first trip, but she went down with enteric fever and I never brought her back. . . women, love, marriage, all such things have passed me by because, I suppose, I was looking for someone like her. I feel now—l felt when first I talked with you—that the search had at last been successful. When Perry told me that you might be coming to see me I hid the photograph, because I wanted you to come again and again, and I didn't want you, at the first visit, to think there was someone else." Jean was deliriously happy. The question had been hammering her brain all through his slow, measured speech, Now she gave it vok% * trifle mischievously. "And then what?" A new light came into Ralph Truseott's eyr»: "I asked that, didn t I^-even.

before we had actually met! It's up to you to answer it now. And—then— what t" "I'll tell you when we get back to London," replied Jean, even more jauntily. Police activities when the ship reached Marseilles told Jean that John Perry, too, would' not have continued his voyage in the Balearic beyond that port! (The End.)