〃This；〃 I acknowledged； 〃is where I am。〃
〃You weren't in your cabin。 And your light's gone。 Do you know that？〃
I know that。 I'd some writing to do。 That's why I came here。 Is there something wrong？〃
She lurched across the saloon and sat heavily on the settee opposite me。
〃Nothing more than has been wrong。〃 She and Smithy should meet up； they'd get on famously。 〃Do you mind if I stay here？〃
I could have said that it didn't matter whether I minded or not； that the saloon was as much hers as mine； but as she seemed to be a touchy sort of creature I just smiled and said： I would take it as an insult if you left。〃
She smiled back at me； just an acknowledging flicker； and settled as best she could in her seat； drawing the tweed coat around her and bracing herself against the violent movements of the Morning Rose。 She closed her eyes and with the long dark lashes lying along pale wet cheeks her high cheekbones were more pronounced than ever； her Slavonic ancestry unmistakable；
It was no great hardship to look upon Mary Stuart but I still felt an increasing irritation as I watched her。 It wasn't so much her fey imaginings and need for pany that made me uneasy； it was the obvious disfort she was experiencing in trying to keep her seated balance while I was wedged so very fortably in my own place： there is nothing more unfortable than being fortable one's self and watching another in acute disfort； not unless； of course； one has a feeling of very powerful antagonism towards the other party； in which case a very fortable feeling can be induced： but I had no such antagonism towards the girl opposite。 To pound my feeling of guilt she began to shiver involuntarily。
〃Here；〃 I said。 〃You'd be more fortable in my scat。 And there's a rug here you can have。〃
She opened her eyes。 〃No； thank you。〃
〃There are plenty more rugs；〃 I said in something like exasperation。
Nothing brings out the worst in me more quickly than sweetly smiling suffering。 I picked up the rug； did my customary two…step across the heaving deck and draped the rug over her。 She looked at me gravely and said nothing。
Back in my corner I picked up the booklet again but instead of reading it got to wondering about my cabin and those who might visit it during my absence。 Mary Stuart had visited it； but then she'd told me she had and the fact that she was here now confirmed the reason for her visit。 At least； it seemed to confirm it。 She was scared； she said； she was lonely and so she naturally wanted pany。 Why my pany？ Why not that of； say； Charles Conrad who was a whole lot younger； nicer； and better looking than I was？ Or even his other two fellow actors； Gunther Jungbeck and ion Heyter； both very personable characters indeed？ Maybe she wanted to be with me for all the wrong reasons。 Maybe she was watching me； maybe she was virtually guarding me； maybe she was giving someone the opportunity to visit my cabin while…I was suddenly very acutely aware that there were things in my cabin that I'd rather not be seen by others。
I put the book down and headed for the lee door。 She opened her eyes and lifted her head。
〃Where are you going？〃
〃Out。〃
〃I'm sorry。 I just…are you ing back？〃
〃I'm sorry； too。 I'm not rude；〃 I lied； 〃just tired。 Below。 Back in a minute。〃
She nodded； her eyes following me until I closed the door behind me。
Once outside I remained still for twenty seconds or so； ignoring the vagrant flurries of snow that even here； on the lee side； seemed bent on getting down my collar and up the trouser cuffs； then walked quickly foreword。 I peered through the plate…glass window and she was sitting as I'd left her； only now she had her elbows on her knees and her face in her hands； shaking her head slowly from side to side。 Ten years ago I'd have been back in that saloon pretty rapidly； arms round her and telling her that all her troubles were over。 That was ten years ago。 Now I just looked at her； wondered if she had been expecting me to take a peck at her； then made my way foreword and down to the passenger acmodation。
It was after midnight but not yet closing hours in the lounge bar； for Lonnie Gilbert； with a heroically foolhardy disregard for what would surely be Otto's fearful wrath when the crime was discovered； had both glass doors swung open and latched in position； while he himself was ensconced in some state behind the bar itself； a bottle of malt whisky in one hand； a soda syphon in the other。 He beamed paternally at me as I passed through and as it seemed late in the day to point out to Lonnie that the better class malts stood in no need of the anaemic assistance of soda I just nodded and went below。
If anybody had been in my cabin and gone through my belongings； he'd done it in a very circumspect way。 As far as I could recall everything was as I had left it and nothing had been disturbed but； then； a practised searcher rarely left any trace of his passing。 Both my cases had elasticised linen pockets in the lids and in each pocket in each lid； holding the lids as nearly horizontal as possible； I placed a small Goin just at the entrance to the pocket。 Then I locked the cases。 In spite of the trawler's wildly erratic behaviour those coins would remain where they were； held in place by the pressure of the clothes inside but as soon as the lid was opened； the pressure released； and the lid then lifted even partway towards the vertical； the Coins would slide down to the feel？ of the pockets。 I then locked my medical bag…it was considerably larger and heavier than the average medical bag but then it held a considerably greater amount of equipment …and put it out in the passage。 I closed the door behind me； carefully wedging a spent book match between the foot of the door and the sill： that door would have to open only a crack and the match would drop clear。 Lonnie； unsurprisingly； was still at his station in the lounge when I reached there。
〃Aha！〃 He regarded his empty glass with an air of surprise； then reached out with an unerring hand。 〃The kindly healer with his bag of tricks。
Hot…foot to the succour of suffering mankind？ A new and dreadful epidemic； is it？ Your old Uncle Lonnie is proud of you； boy； proud of you。 This Hippocratic spirit…〃 He broke off only to resume almost at once。
〃Now that we have touched； inadvertently chanced upon； as one might say； this topic…spirit； the blushful hippocrene…I wonder if by any chance you would care to join me in a thimbleful of the elixir I have here…？'
〃Thank you； Lonnie； no。 Why don't you get to bed？ If you keep it up like this； you won't be able to get up tomorrow。〃
〃And that； my dear boy； is the whole point of the exercise； I don't want to get up tomorrow。 The day after tomorrow？ Well； yes； if I must； I'll face the day after tomorrow。 I don't want to； mind you； for tomorrows； We found； are always distressingly similar to todays。 The only good thing you can say about a today is that at any given moment such and such a portion of it is already irrevocably past'…he paused to admire his speech control…〃Irrevocably past； as I say； and； with the passing of every moment； so much less of it to e。 But all of tomorrow is still to e。 Think of it。 All of it…the livelong day。〃 He lifted his recharged glass。 〃Others drink to forget the past。 But some of us…very； very few and it would not be right of me to say that we're gifted with a prescience and understanding and intelligence far beyond the normal ken； so I'll just say we're different some of us； I say； drink to forget the future。 How； you will ask； can one forget the future？ Well； for one thing； it takes practice。 And； of course； a little assistance。〃 He drank half his malt in one gulp and intoned： Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow creeps in this petty pace from day to day to the last syllable…〃
〃Lonnie；〃 I said； I don't think you're the least little bit like Macbeth。〃
〃And there you have it in a nutshell。 I'm not。 A tragic figure； a sad man； fated and laden with doom。 Now； me； I'm not like that at all。 We Gilberts have the indomitable spirit； the unconquerable soul。 Your Shakespeares are all very well； but Walter de la Mare is my boy。〃 He lifted his glass and squinted myopically at it against the light。 …Look your last on all things lovely every hour。〃'
I don't think he quite meant it in that way； Lonnie。 Anyway； doctor's orders and do me a favour…get to hell out of here。 Otto will have you drawn and quartered if he finds you here。〃
〃Otto？ Do you know something？〃 Lonnie leaned forward confidentially。
〃Otto's really a very kindly man。 I like Otto。 He's always been good to me； Otto has。 Most people are good； my dear chap； don't you know that？ Most people are kind。 Lots of them very kind。 But none so kind as Otto。 Why； I remember…〃
He broke off as I went round the back of the bar； replaced the bottles； locked the doors； placed the keys in his dressing…gown pocket and took his arm。
〃I'm not trying to deprive you of the necessities of life；〃 I explained。
〃Neither am I being heavy…handed and moralistic。 But I have a sensitive nature and I don't want to be around when you find out that your assessment of Otto is a hundred percent wrong。〃 Lonnie came without a single murmur of protest。 Clearly； he had his e