“No-no! I won’t run for office. I swear I won’t. Just let me out of here!”
“Don’t trust him!” Dolman said.
“There’s another alternative,” Robert said, opening a drawer in a built-in desk.
“What?” Hastings asked, apprehensively.
Robert didn’t answer right away, but when he turned around, he held a syringe.
“What’s in there?” Hastings asked.
“Oh, you’ll just have to trust me,” Robert said, “maybe it will give you a fever-something that will make your blood boil, as Captain Dolman says-or maybe it will just help you to sleep.”
When State Senator Archer Hastings awakened, he was hot, unbearably hot, and thirsty. He was still on the ship, he realized hazily. The damned ship. And, he realized with alarm, he was not in his bed, but in an enclosed space-the trunk. He pushed against the lid-it flew open.
Shaking, he crawled out of it, onto the bed. He was still hot, miserably hot, and the terror of the trunk would not leave him.
He reached for the phone next to his bed, and said thickly, “Help. Send a doctor in to help me. I’m ill.”
Not much later, a doctor did arrive. He stepped into the room and said, “Are you chilled?”
“Chilled? Are you mad? I’m burning up!”
“So am I,” the physician said, and turned down the thermostat. “Open the portholes and you’ll be fine.”
“Those damned people!” Hastings exclaimed.
“Which people?” the doctor said, in the tone of one who has encountered a lunatic.
“Mrs. Ada Milington-is she still aboard?”
“Oh no. I’m the last of Ada ’s party still on the ship. She said you’d had a bit too much to drink last night and asked me to make sure you got off the ship all right. She was in a rush.”
“I’ll bet she was.”
“She asked me to give you a message. She said for you to remember that you have an open invitation to a pool party.”
Hastings frowned. “Where’s she off to? I need to talk to her.”
“Oh, I believe she’s well on her way to Glacier Bay by now-one of the Alaskan cruise lines. She said something about her grandchildren getting married at sea. Quite eccentric, Ada,” the doctor mused, as he was taking his leave. “Yes eccentric-but I’d take her seriously, if I were you, sir.” He paused before closing the door. “Shall I ask the hotel to send someone to help you with that trunk?”
“No! I don’t want the damned thing.”
The doctor shrugged and left.
Hastings brooded for a moment, considered the odds of convincing anyone that he had been kidnapped by Ada Milington. He would retire, he decided. There was a sense of relief that came with that decision.
All the same, he continued to feel confined. He hurried to a porthole, opened it and took a deep breath.
For Archer Hastings, it offered no comfort.
Author’s Note
Although Archer Hastings and all other characters in this story are entirely fictional, the Queen Mary statistics in this story are real. Under the control of Allied military personnel, the ship made an enormous contribution to the war effort. However, conditions were extremely crowded, and soldiers did die during voyages into the tropics-most often in the cabin class pool area above the boilers. This story is dedicated to memory of those young men.
An Unsuspected Condition of the Heart
Now and again you may call me a rattlepate and tell me I don’t know what’s o’clock, Charles, but even you will account me a man who can handle the ribbons. And a dashed good thing it is that I am able to drive to an inch-or I’d have bowled your cousin Harry over right there in the middle of the road. I daresay running him over is no less than he deserved, for he’d overturned as beautiful a phaeton as I’d ever seen, which was a thing as nearly as bad as wearing that floral waistcoat of his in public-upon my oath, Charles, even the horses took exception to it.
“Oh, thank heaven,” he cried, even before I’d settled the grays, “it’s dear old Rossiter!”
Two days earlier, the fellow had all but given me the cut direct at Lady Fanshawe’s rout, and here he was, addressing me as if I were an angel come down the road just to save him.
“Dallingham!” I replied. “What on earth has happened? I trust you’ve taken no hurt?”
“Nothing that signifies,” he said, dabbing at a little cut above his left brow. “But I am in the devil’s own hurry and here this phaeton has lost a wheel and broken an axle!”
“Let me take you up, then,” I said. “Will your groom be able to manage those bays?”
“Yes, yes,” he said, already climbing up next to me. “I’d just instructed him to take them back to that inn we passed-five miles back or so, and to see about repairs. May I trouble you take me there? I must see if they’ve something I can hire-”
“Nonsense, Dallingham, can’t imagine they’d have so much as a horsecart to hire. I’m on my way to Ollington- to see my Aunt Lavinia. I’ll take you along as far that, and if you need-”
“Ollington! Why, I’m to dine at Bingsley Hall this evening, and-”
“Bingsley Hall?” I said. “Well, that is on my way. No trouble at all.”
“My thanks, Rossiter!”
The grays were restive, and I put them to. A moment later, he said, “Perhaps you can save me from disgrace.”
I doubted there was any possibility of such a thing, but I said, “Oh?” (Just like that, you know-“Oh?” I believe I raised a brow, but I can’t swear to it.)
“Have you met Lord and Lady Bingsley?” he asked.
“Never had the pleasure. They do not go about much in society. I believe my aunt has some acquaintance with them.”
“Damned recluses, the pair of them.”
“I beg your pardon? Did you not just say you were invited to dine there?”
He smiled. “Oh no, I’m to stay there a fortnight!”
“A fortnight! With the Bingsleys!”
“Well, yes, as it turns out, we’re related!”
“You are related to Miss Bannister’s aunt and uncle?”
He laughed. “Wish me happy, Rossiter! I’m newly married!”
“Married!” I could not hide my shock.
“Yes, as of yesterday. And in future you must refer to Miss Bannister as Lady Dallingham. We were married by special license. She’s gone on to Bingsley to-er, prepare my welcome.”
Charles, I own I was left speechless. The grays took advantage of my lack of concentration, and a rather difficult moment passed before both my horses and my composure were back in hand.
“Well, then,” I said, rather bravely, really, “I do wish you happy. Miss-er, Lady Dallingham is a lovely young woman.”
“Oh, I suppose the chit’s well enough,” he said, “but there can be no doubt that her fortune’s mighty handsome.”
As you can imagine, this blunt speech left me appalled. Of course, all the world knew that Dallingham was hanging out for an heiress, and that he had followed in his father’s footsteps-meaning that his gaming had finally destroyed whatever portion of the family fortune the old man had not already lost at faro and dicing.
I know you’ll not take offense at my putting it so baldly, Charles-after all, neither your cousin Dallingham nor his father could be ranked among your favorites, and your father was estranged from his late brother for many years. I recall that Dallingham applied to your esteemed parent for assistance with his debts on more than one occasion, and that your father-quite rightly-showed him the door.
Of course, even as I took him up that night, I knew that Dallingham was not without friends. He could make himself charming when need be. I will own that Dallingham’s handsome face made him agreeable to the ladies,
