grateful second-class passenger.
Violet Rymer finally broke cover. Tired of being trapped with her parents, she excused herself to go for a walk on deck in order to work up an appetite for luncheon. Sylvia Rymer was too engrossed in her novel to wish to put it aside and her husband also sanctioned their daughter’s outing. They took it as a hopeful sign. Being locked in their lounge with a moping girl brought neither of them any pleasure. By giving Violet a degree of freedom, they might lift her spirits. Matthew Rymer went back to the study of his Bartholomew atlas and Marie Corelli weaved her spell anew for his wife.
Jack was lucky enough to see her actually coming out of the suite. That made the identification certain. Violet Rymer glanced over her shoulder, heaved a sigh, then set off down the corridor toward the stairs. The steward hurried after her, looking around to ensure that nobody else would see or hear them.
“ ’Scuse me, miss!” he called.
Violet stopped and turned. “Yes?”
“Got something for you,” he said, coming up to her and feeling in his pocket. “I am talking to Miss Violet Rymer, am I?”
“That’s right.”
“Then I’m to give you this.”
He offered something to her and she held out a palm to receive it. Mystified at first, she responded with a mild shriek when she saw what she was holding. Her hand closed on the tie pin and her legs buckled. The steward reached out to support her.
“Steady on, miss!” he said in alarm. “You all right?”
“Yes, yes,” she mumbled.
“You don’t look like it. Shall I fetch a glass of water?”
Violet slowly recovered. “No, thank you. I’ll be fine in a minute.”
“You sure?” She nodded. “Then I’ll be off, miss.”
“Wait!” she implored.
“I got my duties.”
“Who gave you this?” she asked, opening her palm. “I must know.”
“My brother, miss.”
“Brother?”
“Albert’s a steward in second class.”
“And who gave it to him?”
“A gentleman who wanted you to have it.”
“Can you describe him?”
“Never even met him, miss.”
“Did he give no name?”
“Who knows? I only did what Albert told me.”
“But he’s a second-class passenger, you say?”
Jack nodded, then scurried off down the corridor. Violet was in turmoil, not knowing whether to be anxious or elated. Philip Garrow was there, after all. She had given him the tie pin as a present. He had sent it back to her as a sign. Violet almost swooned with excitement. Putting a hand against the wall to steady herself, she debated whether she should try to make contactwith him or wait for a further message. Whatever happened, his presence on the ship had to be kept secret from her parents. There would be ructions if they discovered that he was aboard. As she looked at the tie pin again, she remembered the moment when she gave it to him and the kiss with which he expressed his gratitude. All hesitation fled. The miracle had happened and Philip somehow contrived to get aboard. Violet had to try to reach him at once. She would find her way to the second-class quarters and begin her search. But her resolve was short-lived. Before she could even get to the steps, a cabin door opened ahead of her and Ada Weekes stepped out. When she saw Violet, her face lit up.
“Going for a walk on deck?” she asked cheerily.
“Yes, Mrs. Weekes.”
“Then I’ll come with you, if I may.”
Charles Halliday was still in his cabin when Dillman returned there. The expression on the purser’s face told him that the search had been in vain. Dillman was disappointed but not surprised.
“Did they search the cabin thoroughly?” he asked.
“They turned it inside out.”
“And they found nothing?”
“Nothing that would point to Barcroft as our man. Apart from his clothing, all that was in there were his writing materials and a few articles which he’d drafted.” Halliday shook his head wearily. “No sign of any diagrams of the ship.”
“That
Violet Rymer finally broke cover. Tired of being trapped with her parents, she excused herself to go for a walk on deck in order to work up an appetite for luncheon. Sylvia Rymer was too engrossed in her novel to wish to put it aside and her husband also sanctioned their daughter’s outing. They took it as a hopeful sign. Being locked in their lounge with a moping girl brought neither of them any pleasure. By giving Violet a degree of freedom, they might lift her spirits. Matthew Rymer went back to the study of his Bartholomew atlas and Marie Corelli weaved her spell anew for his wife.
Jack was lucky enough to see her actually coming out of the suite. That made the identification certain. Violet Rymer glanced over her shoulder, heaved a sigh, then set off down the corridor toward the stairs. The steward hurried after her, looking around to ensure that nobody else would see or hear them.
“ ’Scuse me, miss!” he called.
Violet stopped and turned. “Yes?”
“Got something for you,” he said, coming up to her and feeling in his pocket. “I am talking to Miss Violet Rymer, am I?”
“That’s right.”
“Then I’m to give you this.”
He offered something to her and she held out a palm to receive it. Mystified at first, she responded with a mild shriek when she saw what she was holding. Her hand closed on the tie pin and her legs buckled. The steward reached out to support her.
“Steady on, miss!” he said in alarm. “You all right?”
“Yes, yes,” she mumbled.
“You don’t look like it. Shall I fetch a glass of water?”
Violet slowly recovered. “No, thank you. I’ll be fine in a minute.”
“You sure?” She nodded. “Then I’ll be off, miss.”
“Wait!” she implored.
“I got my duties.”
“Who gave you this?” she asked, opening her palm. “I must know.”
“My brother, miss.”
“Brother?”
“Albert’s a steward in second class.”
“And who gave it to him?”
“A gentleman who wanted you to have it.”
“Can you describe him?”
“Never even met him, miss.”
“Did he give no name?”
“Who knows? I only did what Albert told me.”
“But he’s a second-class passenger, you say?”
Jack nodded, then scurried off down the corridor. Violet was in turmoil, not knowing whether to be anxious or elated. Philip Garrow was there, after all. She had given him the tie pin as a present. He had sent it back to her as a sign. Violet almost swooned with excitement. Putting a hand against the wall to steady herself, she debated whether she should try to make contactwith him or wait for a further message. Whatever happened, his presence on the ship had to be kept secret from her parents. There would be ructions if they discovered that he was aboard. As she looked at the tie pin again, she remembered the moment when she gave it to him and the kiss with which he expressed his gratitude. All hesitation fled. The miracle had happened and Philip somehow contrived to get aboard. Violet had to try to reach him at once. She would find her way to the second-class quarters and begin her search. But her resolve was short-lived. Before she could even get to the steps, a cabin door opened ahead of her and Ada Weekes stepped out. When she saw Violet, her face lit up.
“Going for a walk on deck?” she asked cheerily.
“Yes, Mrs. Weekes.”
“Then I’ll come with you, if I may.”
Charles Halliday was still in his cabin when Dillman returned there. The expression on the purser’s face told him that the search had been in vain. Dillman was disappointed but not surprised.
“Did they search the cabin thoroughly?” he asked.
“They turned it inside out.”
“And they found nothing?”
“Nothing that would point to Barcroft as our man. Apart from his clothing, all that was in there were his writing materials and a few articles which he’d drafted.” Halliday shook his head wearily. “No sign of any diagrams of the ship.”
“That
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