CHAPTER FIVE
"Good God!" cried Eustace Hignett.
He stared at the figure which loomed above him in the fading lightwhich came through the porthole of the stateroom. The hour wasseven-thirty and he had just woken from a troubled doze, full ofstrange nightmares, and for the moment he thought that he must still bedreaming, for the figure before him could have walked straight into anynightmare and no questions asked. Then suddenly he became aware that itwas his cousin, Samuel Marlowe. As in the historic case of father inthe pigstye, he could tell him by his hat. But why was he looking likethat? Was it simply some trick of the uncertain light, or was his facereally black and had his mouth suddenly grown to six times its normalsize and become a vivid crimson?
Sam turned. He had been looking at himself in the mirror with asatisfaction which, to the casual observer, his appearance would nothave seemed to justify. Hignett had not been suffering from a delusion.His cousin's face was black; and, even as he turned, he gave it a dabwith a piece of burnt cork and made it blacker.
"Hullo! You awake?" he said and switched on the light.
Eustace Hignett shied like a startled horse. His friend's profile, seendimly, had been disconcerting enough. Full face, he was a revoltingobject. Nothing that Eustace Hignett had encountered in his recentdreams--and they had included such unusual fauna as elephants in tophats and running shorts--had affected him so profoundly. Sam'sappearance smote him like a blow. It seemed to take him straight into adifferent and dreadful world.
"What ... what ... what...?" he gurgled.
Sam squinted at himself in the glass and added a touch of black to hisnose.
"How do I look?"
Eustace Hignett began to fear that his cousin's reason must have becomeunseated. He could not conceive of any really sane man, looking likethat, being anxious to be told how he looked.
"Are my lips red enough? It's for the ship's concert, you know. Itstarts in half an hour, though I believe I'm not on till the second part.Speaking as a friend, would you put a touch more black round the ears,or are they all right?"
Curiosity replaced apprehension in Hignett's mind.
"What on earth are you doing performing at the ship's concert?"
"Oh, they roped me in. It got about somehow that I was a valuable manand they wouldn't take no." Sam deepened the colour of his ears. "As amatter of fact," he said casually, "my fiancee made rather a point ofmy doing something."
A sharp yell from the lower berth proclaimed the fact that thesignificance of the remark had not been lost on Eustace.
"Your fiancee?"
"The girl I'm engaged to. Didn't I tell you about that? Yes, I'mengaged."
Eustace sighed heavily.
"I feared the worst. Tell me, who is she?"
"Didn't I tell you her name?"
"No."
"Curious! I must have forgotten." He hummed an airy strain as heblackened the tip of his nose. "It's rather a curious coincidence,really. Her name is Bennett."
"She may be a relation."
"That's true. Of course, girls do have relations."
"What is her first name?"
"That is another rather remarkable thing. It's Wilhelmina."
"Wilhelmina!"
"Of course, there must be hundreds of girls in the world calledWilhelmina Bennett, but still it is a coincidence."
"What colour is her hair?" demanded Eustace Hignett in a hollow voice."Her hair! What colour is it?"
"Her hair? Now, let me see. You ask me what colour is her hair. Well,you might call it auburn ... or russet ... or you might call it Titian...."
"Never mind what you might call it. Is it red?"
"Red? Why, yes. That is a very good description of it. Now that you putit to me like that, it _is_ red."
"Has she a trick of grabbing at you suddenly, when she gets excited,like a kitten with a ball of wool?"
"Yes. Yes, she has."
Eustace Hignett uttered a sharp cry.
"Sam," he said, "can you bear a shock?"
"I'll have a dash at it."
"Brace up!"
"The girl you are engaged to is the same girl who promised to marry_me_."
"Well, well!" said Sam.
There was a silence.
"Awfully sorry, of course, and all that," said Sam.
"Don't apologise to me!" said Eustace. "My poor old chap, my onlyfeeling towards you is one of the purest and profoundest pity." Hereached out and pressed Sam's hand. "I regard you as a toad beneath theharrow!"
"Well, I suppose that's one way of offering congratulations and cheerygood wishes."
"And on top of that," went on Eustace, deeply moved. "You have got tosing at the ship's concert."
"Why shouldn't I sing at the ship's concert?"
"My dear old man, you have many worthy qualities, but you must knowthat you can't sing. You can't sing for nuts! I don't want todiscourage you, but, long ago as it is, you can't have forgotten whatan ass you made of yourself at that house-supper at school. Seeingyou up against it like this, I regret that I threw a lump of butter atyou on that occasion, though at the time it seemed the only course topursue."
Sam started.
"Was it you who threw that bit of butter?"
"It was."
"I wish I'd known! You silly chump, you ruined my collar."
"Ah, well, it's seven years ago. You would have had to send it to thewash anyhow by this time. But don't let us brood on the past. Let usput our heads together and think how we can get you out of thisterrible situation."
"I don't want to get out of it. I confidently expect to be the hit ofthe evening."
"The hit of the evening! You! Singing!"
"I'm not going to sing. I'm going to do that imitation of Frank Tinneywhich I did at the Trinity Smoker. You haven't forgotten that? You wereat the piano taking the part of the conductor of the orchestra. What ariot I was--we were! I say, Eustace, old man, I suppose you don't feelwell enough to come up now and take your old part? You could do itwithout a rehearsal. You remember how it went ... 'Hullo, Ernest!' 'Hullo,Frank!' Why not come along?"
"The only piano I will ever sit at will be one firmly fixed on a floorthat does not heave and wobble under me."
"Nonsense! The boat's as steady as a rock now. The sea's like amill-pond."
"Nevertheless, thanking you for your suggestion, no!"
"Oh, well, then I shall have to get on as best I can with that fellowMortimer. We've been rehearsing all the afternoon and he seems to havethe hang of the thing. But he won't be really right. He has no pep, novim. Still, if you won't ... well, I think I'll be getting along to hisstateroom. I told him I would look in for a last rehearsal."
The door closed behind Sam, and Eustace Hignett, lying on his back,gave himself up to melancholy meditation. He was deeply disturbed byhis cousin's sad story. He knew what it meant being engaged toWilhelmina Bennett. It was like being taken aloft in a balloon anddropped with a thud on the rocks.
His reflections were broken by the abrupt opening of the door. Marlowerushed in. Eustace peered anxiously out of his berth. There was too muchcork on his cousin's face to allow of any real registering of emotion,but he could tell from his manner that all was not well.
"What's the matter?"
Sam sank on the lounge.
"The bounder has quit!"
"The bounder? What bounder?"
"There is only one! Bream Mortimer, curse him! There may be others whomthoughtless critics rank as bounders, but he is the only man reallydeserving of the title. He refuses to appear! He has walked out on theact! He has left me flat! I went into his stateroom just now, asarranged, and the man was lying on his bunk, groaning."
"I thought you said the sea was like a millpond."
"It wasn't that! He's perfectly fit. But it seems that the silly asstook it into his head to propose to Billie just before dinner--apparentlyhe's loved her for years in a silent, self-effacing way--andof course she told him that she was engaged to me, and the thing upsethi
m to such an extent that he says the idea of sitting down at a pianoand helping me give an imitation of Frank Tinney revolts him. He sayshe intends to spend the evening in bed, reading Schopenhauer. I hope itchokes him."
"But this is splendid! This lets you out."
"What do you mean? Lets me out?"
"Why, now you won't be able to appear. Oh, you will be thankful forthis in years to come."
"Won't I appear! Won't I dashed well appear! Do you think I'm going todisappoint that dear girl when she is relying on me? I would ratherdie!"
"But you can't appear without a pianist."
"I've got a pianist."
"You have?"
"Yes. A little undersized shrimp of a fellow with a green face and earslike water-wings."
"I don't think I know him."
"Yes, you do. He's you!"
"Me!"
"Yes, you. You are going to sit at the piano to-night."
"I'm sorry to disappoint you, but it's impossible. I gave you my viewson the subject just now."
"You've altered them."
"I haven't."
"Well, you soon will, and I'll tell you why. If you don't get up out ofthat damned berth you've been roosting in all your life, I'm going toring for J. B. Midgeley and I'm going to tell him to bring me a bit ofdinner in here and I'm going to eat it before your eyes."
"But you've had dinner."
"Well, I'll have another. I feel just ready for a nice fat porkchop...."
"Stop. Stop!"
"A nice fat pork chop with potatoes and lots of cabbage," repeated Sam,firmly. "And I shall eat it here on this very lounge. Now, how do wego?"
"You wouldn't do that!" said Eustace piteously.
"I would and will."
"But I shouldn't be any good at the piano. I've forgotten how the thingused to go."
"You haven't done anything of the kind. I come in and say, 'Hullo,Ernest!' and you say 'Hullo, Frank!' and then you help me tell thestory about the Pullman car. A child could do your part of it."
"Perhaps there is some child on board...."
"No! I want you. I shall feel safe with you. We've done it togetherbefore."
"But honestly, I really don't think ... it isn't as if...."
Sam rose and extended a finger towards the bell.
"Stop! Stop!" cried Eustace Hignett. "I'll do it!"
Sam withdrew his finger.
"Good!" he said. "We've just got time for a rehearsal while you'redressing. 'Hullo, Ernest!'"
"Hullo, Frank," said Eustace Hignett, brokenly, as he searched for hisunfamiliar trousers.