Resentment flares up. There you have the planned murder. Ah . but before he could dispose of the body Tristan comes in and foils his plan. Murders always go wrong in plays. They always have to or there wouldn’t have been a play and plays are based on real life. “

We all hung on his words.

Emily said: “I can’t help feeling sorry for that Simon.”

“Sorry for a murderer!” cried Mrs. Harlow.

“You’re out of your mind, girl. How would you like him to come along and put a bullet through your head?”

“He wouldn’t, would he? I’m not Cosmo.”

“You thank your lucky stars you’re not,” said Mrs. Harlow.

“And don’t interrupt Mr. Dolland.”

“All we can do,” went on the sage, ‘is wait and see. “

We did not have to wait long. The newsboys were shouting in the streets: “Dramatic turn in Bindon Boys case. Read all about it.”

We did . avidly. It seemed that the police had been on the point of arresting Simon Perrivale. Why they had delayed was a mystery to Mr. Dolland -and now Simon had disappeared.

“Where is Simon Perrivale?” demanded the headlines.

“Have you seen this man?” Then “Police on trail. Arrest expected hourly.”

“So,” pronounced Mr. Dolland.

“He has run away. He could not have said more clearly, I’m guilty. They’ll find him, never fear.”

“It’s to be hoped so,” added Mrs. Harlow.

“A body don’t feel safe in bed of nights with murderers running around.”

“He wouldn’t have reason to murder you, Mrs. Harlow,” said Meg.

“I wouldn’t trust him,” retorted Mrs. Harlow.

“They’ll soon find him,” said Mr. Dolland reassuringly.

“They’ll have their men searching everywhere.”

But the days passed and there was no news of a capture.

Then the case ceased to be headline news. The Queen’s Golden Jubilee was taking up the space and there was no room for a sordid murder with the chief suspect having left the scene. No doubt when he was captured there would be a fresh surge of interest; but in the meantime the news of Bindon Boys was banished to the back pages.

It was three days before we were due to depart when we had a caller.

I was in my room when my parents sent for me. I was to go to the drawing-room immediately. A surprise awaited me there. As I entered, Lucas Lorimer came forward to greet me.

“Mr. Lorimer tells me that you met at Mr. and Mrs. Grafton’s house,” said my mother.

“Why, yes,” I said, naively betraying my pleasure.

He took my hand, smiling into my eyes.

“It was such a pleasure to meet Professor Cranleigh’s daughter,” he said, complimenting both my father and me at the same time.

My parents were smiling on me indulgently.

“We have some good news,” said my father.

The three of them were watching me as though they were about to inform a child of a treat in store.

“Mr. Lorimer is sailing on the Atlantic Star,” said my mother.

“Really!” I cried in amazement.

Lucas Lorimer nodded.

“A great surprise for me and a great honour. I have been asked to give a talk on my discovery at the same time as Professor Cranleigh gives his lecture.”

I felt laughter bubbling up within me. I was amused by the fine distinction implied between a talk and a lecture. I could not really believe he was as modest as he sounded. The look in his eyes did not somehow fit his words.

“So,” went on my father, “Mr. Lorimer will be sailing with us on the Atlantic Star.”

“That,” I replied with truth, ‘will be very pleasant. “

“I can’t tell you how delighted I am to be going,” he said.

“I have often thought what a lucky day it was for me when I made that find in the garden.”

My father smiled and remarked that the message on the stone was a little difficult to decipher not the hieroglyphics, of course, but the meaning . the accurate meaning. It was typical, he went on to say, of the Arabic mind. Always fraught with obscurity.

“But that is what makes it all so interesting,” put in Lucas Lorimer.

“It was good of you to come and tell us of your invitation,” my father went on, ‘and your decision to accept. “

“My dear Professor, how could I refuse the honour of sharing a platform with you … well, not exactly sharing, but being allowed to follow in your footsteps, shall I say?”

My parents were clearly delighted, which showed they could emerge from the rarified atmosphere in which they usually lived to bask in a little flattery.

He was asked to luncheon, when we discussed the journey and my father, encouraged by my mother, went on to talk of the subject of the lectures he would be giving in South Africa and North America.

I could only think: he will be on the ship with us. He will be in foreign places with us. And a considerable excitement had been injected into the prospect.

In a way it took the edge off my apprehension.

Lucas Lorimer’s presence would certainly add a spice to the adventure.

Boarding a ship for the first time was an exhilarating experience. I had driven to Tilbury with my parents and had sat demurely listening to their conversation on the way down, which was mainly about the lectures my father would give. I was rather pleased about this because it relieved me of the strain of talking. He did refer to Lucas Lorimer and wondered how his talk would be received.

“He will have only a superficial knowledge of the subject, of course, but I have heard he has a light-hearted way of representing it. Not the right approach, but a little lightness seems to be acceptable now and then.”

“He will be talking to people of knowledge, I hope,” said my mother.

“Oh yes.” My father turned to smile at me.

“If there are any questions you wish to ask, you must not hesitate to do so, Rosetta.”

“Yes,” added my mother, ‘if you know a little it will enhance your enjoyment of the lectures. “

I thanked them and fancied they were not entirely dissatisfied with me.

I had a cabin next to my parents which I was to share with a girl who was going to South Africa to join her parents who were farming there. She had left school, and was a little older than I. Her name was Mary Kelpin and she was pleasant enough. She had travelled this way several times and was more knowledgeable than I. She chose the lower of the two bunks, which I did not mind in the least. I imagined I should have felt a little stifled sleeping below.

She meticulously divided the wardrobe we had to share; and I thought that, for the time we were at sea, we should get on well.

It was early evening when we set sail and almost immediately Lucas Lorimer discovered us. I heard his voice in my parents’ cabin. I did not join them but decided to explore the ship. I went up the companionway to the public rooms and then out to the deck to take the last glimpse of the dock before we sailed. I was leaning on the rail studying the activity below when he came upon me.

“I guessed you’d be here,” he said.

“You’d want to see the ship sail.”

“Yes, I did,” I replied.

“Isn’t it amusing that we are taking the trip together?”

“Amusing?”

“I am sure it will be. A delightful coincidence.”

“It has all come about very naturally. Can you call that a coincidence?”

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