Devil's Cocktail (Wallace of the Secret Service Series)

by Alexander Wilson

  ‘I am sure I am going to like him,’ said Joan. ‘The difficulty will be to know when to take him seriously.’

  ‘Very few people know when to do that. But when he starts quoting from poets or philosophers or scientists, stop him, or you’ll have reams of stuff poured into your bewildered head. Really, I don’t think there is any branch of the arts or sciences with which Cousins is not familiar.’

  The curtain rose at that juncture and Joan turned her attention to the popular musical show which had captivated all London.

  CHAPTER SIX

  A Fancy Dress Dance

  The Ispahan ploughed her way through the waters of the Mediterranean. She had taken on the majority of her passengers at Marseilles, and now, two days out from that port, she was approaching the Straits of Messina and people who had hitherto held themselves aloof were beginning to greet each other as old acquaintances.

  Hugh Shannon, with great seriousness of purpose: had settled down to read over once more his many books on English literature in order to brush up his memory on the subject in which he had specialised at Oxford. Joan, on the other hand, devoted herself heart and soul to the amusements of boardship life, and very quickly became the leader of most of the activities of the first saloon. At first she and Hugh had considered travelling overland to Marseilles, and taking the boat on from there, but Joan had such a love for the sea that she preferred joining the ship at Gravesend and going the whole way on the bosom of the ocean, and thus it was decided. Cousins, who had very little liking for the Bay of Biscay, pleaded to be allowed to join at Marseilles, and he came aboard and reported himself at that port, almost before the vessel had tied up.

  There was the usual conglomeration of passengers that is to be found on any ship travelling to India in the busy season. Indians returning from a trip to Europe, full of their own importance and stuffed full of platitudes; Indian Army officers and their wives, whose holiday at home for a few short months had given them a fresh lease of healthful life; members of the Indian Civil Service, who appeared to regard themselves almost as the Lord’s anointed and treated all others with the patronising manner peculiar to their service; young bank clerks, thinking themselves mighty important fellows and embryo builders of empire railway officials; police officials; forestry officials – all were there, and Hugh in his spare moments found himself watching these others and getting any amount of quiet fun from their peacock mannerisms.

  Joan was a wise little lady, in spite of her youth and inexperience, and she soon began to find a great deal of humour in what she described as the plethora of artificiality that existed around her. However, she found several young girls, and one or two young men, who were almost as natural and simple as herself, and with these she organised games, dances, and musical evenings which were very enjoyable, and helped to pass the time pleasantly.

  The peculiar laxity of conduct that always exists on an ocean liner at first discomforted her, but not being a little prude she entered whole-heartedly into everything, and was the life and soul of the ship. Of course most of the men fell in love with her, some seriously, some because men on board ship seem to consider it a necessary adjunct to existence; others, and these were the most dangerous, from an habitual belief that a pretty woman was a natural prey and that they themselves were irresistible to the fair sex.

  Soon after leaving Marseilles, one of these latter attached himself to Joan almost with a sense of proprietorship. He carried her rugs and books, saw that her chair was placed in the best part of the deck, pointed out the interesting sights on the way, with the experience of a man who had made the journey several times before, and generally made himself officiously useful. At first Joan was merely amused; then as she noticed that he endeavoured to keep all others away from her, she began to get annoyed.

  On the morning on which the ship entered the Straits of Messina, he came up to her as she was sitting at breakfast.

  ‘Good morning, Miss Shannon,’ he said blandly. ‘I have obtained the captain’s permission to take you on the fore deck as we go through the Straits. You will have a splendid view there.’

  ‘Thank you,’ she replied coldly; ‘but I have already arranged to go there with my brother.’

  The other was taken aback for a moment, and he turned and looked at Hugh, who was regarding him with amusement.

  ‘You had previously obtained the captain’s permission, I presume?’ he asked.

  ‘It wasn’t necessary,’ said Hugh. ‘The chief officer told us that the passengers could go on the fore deck if they wished to do so. Your efforts to get the captain’s permission were very kind, Hudson, but unnecessary.’

  ‘I was naturally thinking of Miss Shannon’s pleasure,’ said Hudson stiffly.

  ‘Nice of you,’ drawled Hugh; ‘still I am quite capable of looking after that, thanks!’

  Without another word the other turned, and walked away.

  ‘I seem to have upset the fellow,’ said Hugh. ‘Who is he anyway? I know his name and that is all!’

  ‘He is a very important man,’ said a delicate-looking little lady on the other side of the table. ‘I believe he is in the secretariat at Lahore, and draws a salary of two thousand rupees a month.’

  ‘I wish he wasn’t stationed at Lahore,’ sighed Joan. ‘I suppose he’ll be calling on us.’

  ‘Let him!’ said Hugh cheerfully. ‘We’ll put Cousins on to him if he does.’

  The great ship entered the Straits at half-speed. On one side towered the mountains overlooking the town of Messina, terminating in Etna which, at a height of over ten thousand feet, could be seen dominating the surroundings. On the other side were the gentle slopes of Calabria with the white walls of Reggio glistening in the morning sunshine. Joan thought that she had seldom seen anything more beautiful. A thin spiral of smoke could be observed rising from the volcano, and a white cloud hung just below the crater. Everything seemed so calm and peaceful that it was difficult to imagine that an eruption from Etna had ever cast havoc, sorrow and death on that peaceful district. Small boats with happy-looking natives in them, rocked gently in the swell caused by the passing of the huge liner, and in one were three Sicilians with guitars, who sang gloriously as they glided by. Just ahead a ferry passed with the train which ran from Rome to Palermo.

  Joan gazed with entranced eyes, and when they were well through the Straits she insisted upon Hugh taking her to the stern of the ship, so that she could still feast her eyes on the beauties which nature had so lavishly spread before her. Messina was out of sight and Etna a cloud in the distance before, with one last look at Cape Spartivento, she turned with a sigh to her brother.

  ‘Isn’t it perfectly beautiful, Hugh?’ she said. ‘I shall never forget that scene as long as I live.’

  ‘“A thing of beauty is a joy for ever – it’s loveliness increases, it will never pass into nothingness”,’ quoted a voice behind them, and turning they beheld Cousins, still as spick and span as ever.

  ‘Good morning, Miss Shannon,’ he said. ‘I am glad to see you have an appreciation of beauty.’

  ‘Very few people have not, Mr Cousins,’ she replied.

  ‘For the Lord’s sake, don’t call me “mister”! It is not usual for a young lady to call her brother’s valet by such a title.’

  ‘I’m sorry, I quite forgot!’ she smiled.

  ‘Please don’t! Besides I hope I may be allowed to act as your servant, as well as your brother’s. From signs I have seen you may find me necessary.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ demanded Hugh.

  ‘Very little at present. But, as I say, there are signs.’

  ‘I wish you’d make yourself clearer.’

  ‘Nothing could be clearer than me! I am one of those blunt, plain, honest fellows, of whom Jane Austen spoke when she said—’

  ‘I’m not interested in what Jane Austen said at present,’ interrupted Hugh. ‘What I want to know is—’

  ‘And what I want to know,’ interrupted Cousins, in his turn, ‘is –
why did you change your tie? I put out a blue one for you which exactly matched the colour of the Mediterranean, and here are you wearing a hideous gold and black tie, which makes one seasick to look at it.’

  ‘Why those are my college colours,’ said Hugh indignantly.

  ‘Then all I can say is your college has the most reprehensible taste – exceptis excipiendis. You’ll forgive the Latin tag, Miss Shannon,’ he added apologetically. ‘I got it from the back of a dictionary.’

  She laughed.

  ‘Please tell me why you think I want looking after!’ she said seriously.

  He dropped his voice.

  ‘Don’t be too free with Hudson!’ he said. ‘Will you require me before lunch, sir?’ he asked in a louder tone.

  ‘No!’ said Hugh. ‘But I—’

  ‘Then I’ll leave you as I have some pressing to do.’

  And raising his cap politely he sauntered off. Joan laughed.

  ‘I somehow can’t imagine Cousins pressing clothes, can you?’ she asked.

  Hugh shrugged his shoulders.

  ‘I’d like to know what he means by not being free with Hudson,’ he said, as they made their way back to the first-class deck.

  That night there was a fancy dress dance, and great was the excitement among the young people in preparing their costumes, and conjecturing what their companions were going to wear. Joan insisted upon Hugh dressing up for the occasion, and despite his assertion that professors were not so undignified, she procured a monk’s habit from somewhere, and insisted that he should wear it. Grumbling that he had grown too old for such frivolities, he was escorted to his cabin by a couple of his sister’s young male friends, who had promised to help him put on the sombre-looking garment. However, Cousins was there and he took charge of the proceedings. He bundled the high-spirited youngsters out, declaring that he was quite able to see to his master’s costuming himself.

  ‘Look here, Cousins!’ said Hugh. ‘You’ve been avoiding me all day, and I want to know what you’ve got against Hudson. Come on, out with it!’

  The ideal valet rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

  ‘I suppose I rather presumed,’ he said, ‘but that fellow nearly got into the clutches of the police while he was at home.’

  ‘In what way?’

  ‘Interfering with young girls in Hyde Park and various other places. I believe he was warned on two or three occasions.’

  ‘The deuce he was!’ exclaimed Hugh. ‘I’ll tell my sister to keep clear of him. Not that she needs any such warning – she has taken a dislike to him, and is quite capable of looking after herself.’

  ‘“There’s many a slip ’twixt the cup and the lip”,’ quoted Cousins.

  ‘Oh, yes, I know,’ said Hugh irritably; ‘“and a stitch in time saves nine”! For the Lord’s sake, Cousins, give me a rest from your eternal quotations!’

  ‘Very well, sir,’ said Cousins deferentially. ‘Now may I help you into your monkly habit! I think a little touch of white powder on your cheeks to give you the requisite “no fish on Friday” pallor would be an artistic touch, or perhaps you would prefer a little rouge to denote the jolly friar.’

  ‘Don’t be a bigger fool than you can help,’ growled Hugh.

  When he reached the dining-saloon, he found that Joan had been invited to another table, and so he was compelled to put off his warning until later. It was a gala night on the ship and the saloon looked quite gay with its decorations of artificial flowers, flags and palms. There was a regular riot of colour and the scene was very animated. Cavaliers sat next to ladies of the court of Louis XIV; dairymaids giggled at cowboys; monks laughed with nuns; soldiers, halberdiers, archers, knights, dusky Nubians, Turks, gondoliers, pierrots, pierrettes, maritanas, nursing sisters, all were there, and the majority of the costumes had been supplied by the barber. Truly a ship’s barber is a versatile man.

  Hugh looked at the scene with interest and, as he put it to himself, felt young again. Presently he discovered that he was sitting next to a lady dressed as a butterfly. For a moment he did not recognise her, then his heart sank. She was a young woman who had embarked at Gravesend, and had tried her best ever since to flirt with him. She had pale blue eyes, the lashes of which were always artificially darkened, eyebrows which received the same treatment, a rather well-shaped nose, lips which transferred their colour regularly to the cigarettes she smoked, and bright, fair hair – the brightness having a suspicion of peroxide about it.

  Hugh looked and groaned inwardly. She smiled at him dazzlingly.

  ‘I have invited myself to your table, Professor Shannon,’ she simpered. ‘I hope you are very pleased.’

  ‘Oh, delighted!’ he lied.

  ‘You are going to be very nice to me this evening, are you not? You have neglected me shamefully lately.’

  ‘Sorry!’ he murmured. ‘I’ve been busy!’

  ‘Yes, I know, and I forgive you,’ she said handsomely. ‘You very brainy people always are immersed in books.’

  ‘I’m afraid I am not very brainy,’ he said.

  ‘Oh, how modest!’ she smiled. ‘I have found out all about you.’

  ‘The deuce you have!’ exclaimed Hugh, and then added hastily, ‘I beg your pardon!’

  At that moment the wine-steward paused by their side. She looked invitingly at Hugh, and as if duty-bound he asked what she would drink.

  ‘I don’t think we can do less than drink champagne on an occasion like this, do you?’ she asked coyly.

  He ordered the champagne.

  By the end of dinner Hugh was in a state of nerves. In order to get rid of her, he made an excuse that he had to go to his cabin, whereupon she smiled at him.

  ‘I must go and get a shawl,’ she said. ‘Shall I wait for you at the head of the saloon gangway?’

  ‘Yes, do!’ said poor Hugh, and escaped below.

  He sat down on his settee, and swore. Cousins came in quietly.

  ‘Why the language?’ he inquired.

  ‘A female whom I loathe, has attached herself to me, and I can’t get away from her.’

  Cousins chuckled.

  ‘That’s bad!’ he said. ‘Why not dodge her?’

  ‘I’m going to try, but I doubt if I’ll succeed.’

  ‘Have you warned your sister to be careful of Hudson yet?’

  ‘No; I haven’t seen her.’

  ‘Well, try and find her! Tonight is one of those lax nights when men like Hudson enjoy themselves!’

  ‘I’d like to see him try to enjoy himself at the expense of Joan!’ growled Hugh.

  A few minutes later he went up on deck by another stairway, but to his dismay his butterfly lady was there awaiting him.

  ‘You naughty man,’ she said. ‘I meant the top of the saloon gangway, not this one. However, I saw you pass along below and so here I am.’

  ‘I made a mistake,’ muttered Hugh lamely.

  His discomfiture was complete when, a little later, a pretty girl dressed as a Spanish dancer came up and stopped to whisper—

  ‘I expected you to be my dancing partner tonight, and you’ve deserted me.’ And she passed on.

  She was a girl Hugh really admired, and his spirits fell to zero as he saw her disappear on the arm of another man. He cheered up a bit when he saw Joan talking animatedly to a young cavalier, a youth who was one of the nicest fellows on the boat. Of Hudson there was no sign whatever.

  Joan had a perfectly glorious evening. She danced until she could dance no longer. Somewhat to her surprise Hudson, who was dressed as Caesar Borgia, only asked her for one dance, and then left her with the man she had chosen as her dancing partner. She felt a little piqued at first, but thinking the matter over she decided that he was annoyed on account of the slight that had been put upon him in the morning. She was rather surprised, therefore, at one o’clock, when enthusiasm was beginning to wane, to find him at her side requesting her for just one more dance.

  ‘I really couldn’t, Mr Hudson,’ she said. ‘You should have c
ome before.’

  ‘There were so many,’ he said, ‘that I hesitated to intrude.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ she asked indignantly.

  ‘Please don’t misunderstand me!’ he pleaded. ‘Honestly I couldn’t very well butt in, could I?’

  She smiled.

  ‘I don’t see why not. Others butted in, as you call it.’

  ‘I was afraid I might be de trop.’

  ‘Don’t be silly!’ she retorted.

  ‘And you can’t spare just one dance now?’

  ‘I’m so tired,’ she said.

  ‘Well, let us go on the other deck and watch the moon. It’s a glorious night!’

  For a moment she hesitated, then smiled.

  ‘It would be rather nice to sit in the moonlight and rest,’ she said.

  She took his arm, and they went up to the next deck. Then he led her to the gangway that ascended to the boat deck. She stopped.

  ‘Why go up there?’ she asked. ‘Our chairs are here, and we’ve quite a nice view.’

  ‘But the awning spoils it,’ he said. ‘That is why so many people have gone on the boat deck.’

  Her innate distrust of the man was dissipated by the announcement that some of the passengers were on the upper deck; with a little nod, she accompanied him up the gangway. Then a sudden doubt assailed her – there was nobody to be seen.

  ‘Where is everybody?’ she asked.

  He smiled, and his smile, in the moonlight, looked a little gross, she thought.

  ‘I suppose most of them are behind the boats,’ he said.

  ‘I think I’d rather go down, Mr Hudson,’ she said.

  ‘Oh, I say! Stay a little while! Look how glorious it is up here.’

  It was beautiful. A full moon held sway in the sky – such a moon as one can only see in the Mediterranean, and in the tropics. Everything was almost as bright as day, and a great ray of moonlight stretched across the water, and shimmered and danced in a manner to delight any lover of beauty. Joan felt that she was being silly, the sheer love of beauty conquered her, and she went on with Hudson to a snug little corner between two boats where, strangely enough, two deck chairs were placed.