Template License in● the drawri I held up ▓the note: “Will you kindly deliver▓ this to the chi


s.You can run up with it● yourself, though.Here, boatman, row m▓e over to the custom wharf.” I ●sprang up the ladder.Except for severa▓l sahib-respecting Lascars, who ▓jumped aside as I appeared, the promenade ▓deck was deserted.From somewhere below came the▓ sound of waltz music and the laug

hter of ▓merry people.I strolled leisurely ar

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ef steward The wri▓ter wants an answer before the ship le▓aves.”


ound● to the port side and walked aft● in the shadow of the upper cabins.▓For some moments I stood alone in the darkness, ●gazing at the reflection of the low●er portholes in the canal.Then, a step sounde●d at the door of 241the saloon behind ●me, a heavy British step that advanced several ▓paces and halted.One could almost ▓feel the authority in that step; one could cer▓tainly hear it in the gruff “ahem” with which ●the newcomer cleared his throat.An off●icer, no doubt, about to order me ashore! I w▓aited in literal fear and trembl▓ing. A minute passed, then another.I tur●ned my head, inch by inch, and peered over my s▓houlder.In the shaft of light▓ stood a man in faultless evenin▓g attire, gazing at me through ▓the intervening darkness.His▓ dress suggested a passenger; but t●he v

ery set of his feet on the d



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eck proved ▓him no landsman.The skipper h●imself, surely! What under officer would dare▓ appear out of uniform during a voyage I tur●ned my head away again, dete▓rmined to bear the impending

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blow with fortitu●de.The dreaded being cleared his● throat once more, stepped nearer●, and stood for a moment without sp▓eaking.Then a hand touched me lightly on the ▓sleeve. “Beg pahdon, sir,” murmured a●n apologetic voice; “beg pahdon, sir, but ’●ave you ’ad dinner yet The other gentlemen●’s h’all been served, sir.” I ●swallowed m

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y throat and turned around, lay▓ing a hand over the place where my ne▓cktie should have been. “I am not a passeng▓er, my man,” I replied haughtily; “I have▓ a communication for the chief steward.”● The flunky stretched out his hand. ● “Oh, I cawn’t send it, you know,” I pro▓tested.“I must deliver it in pe●rson, for it requires an

answer b●efore the ship leaves.” “Lord, you can●’t see ’im,” gasped the Briton●; “we’re givin’ a ball and ’e’s

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