Have you any luggage?
Only a portmanteau, which I placed in my bunk. It contains a certain amount of necessary linen.
Wait here until I find out what there is to be had in the first cabin.
Stranleigh went down to the purser, and that overworked official threw him a friendly glance, which nevertheless indicated that his time was valuable.
My name is Trevelyan, said the young man.
Oh, yes, Mr. Trevelyan. You have our premier suite. How do you like your accommodation?
I havent seen it yet. I have just discovered a friend, a rather eccentric man, who had made up his mind to cross the Atlantic in the steerage. One of those silly bets, you know, which silly young men make in our silly London clubs, and I have persuaded him out of it.
Our steerage is supposed to be rather comfortable, Mr. Trevelyan.
So he says, but I want his company on deck, and not on the steerage deck at that. Have you got anything vacant along my avenue?
The purser consulted his written list.
Nobody with him?
Hes quite alone.
All the larger cabins are taken, but I can give him No. 4390.
I suppose, like your steerage, it is comfortable? said Stranleigh, with a smile.
It is, yet its not a private hotel like your quarters.
Oh, hell not grumble. Will you send a steward to carry his portmanteau from the number indicated on this steerage ticket to his new room? Meanwhile, Ill have transferred to him his luggage that I brought from London.
The purser rapidly wrote out a new ticket, and took the difference in five-pound notes.
Are you going to your quarters now? the purser asked.
Yes, I must give some instructions to my man.
Then it will give me great pleasure to show you the way there, said the purser, rising and locking the door; and in spite of Stranleighs protest against his taking the trouble, he led him to a series of rooms that would have satisfied a much more exacting person than his young lordship. When the purser had returned to his duties, Stranleigh said to Ponderby
The Hon. John Hazel is aboard, and his cabin is No. 4390. He had to leave London in a great hurry and without the necessary luggage.
Ponderbys eyes lit up with an expression which said I knew that would happen sooner or later. But he uttered no word, and cast down his eyes when he saw his master had noticed the glance. Stranleigh spoke coldly and clearly.
How many new suits have you provided for me?
Thirty-seven, my lord.
Very well. Clear out one or two boxes, and pack a dress-suit and two or three ordinary suits; in fact, costume the Hon. John Hazel just as you would costume me. Call a steward, and order the box to be taken to his room. Lay out for him an everyday garb, and get all this done as quickly as possible.
His lordship proceeded leisurely to the upper deck once more, and found Hazel just as he had left him, except that he was now gazing at the fleeting shore, green and village-studded, of the Isle of Wight.
Here you are, said Stranleigh breezily, handing the Hon. John the cabin ticket.
There was a weak strain in Hazels character, otherwise he would never had come to the position in which he found himself, and he now exhibited the stubbornness which has in it the infallible signs of giving way.
I really cannot accept it, he said, his lower lip trembling perceptibly.
Tut, tut! Its all settled and done with. Your room is No. 4390. You will find your bag there, and also a box from my habitation. Come along Ill be your valet. Luncheon will be on shortly, and I want your company.
Stranleigh turned away, and Hazel followed him.
Cabin 4390 could not be compared with the luxurious suite that Stranleigh was to occupy, yet, despite the pursers hesitation to overpraise it, the cabin was of a size and promise of comfort that would have been found in few liners a decade ago. Ponderby was on hand, and saved his master the fag of valeting, and when finally the Hon. John emerged, he was quite his old jaunty self again a well-dressed man who would not have done discredit even to the Camperdown Club.
I have secured a place for you, said Stranleigh, next to myself at the doctors table. I flatter myself on having made this transfer with more tact than I usually display, for I am somewhat stupid in the main, trusting others to carry out my ideas rather than endeavouring to shine as a diplomatist myself. The purser the only official aware of the change thinks you made a bet to go over steerage, and will probably forget all about the matter. The question is, under what name shall I introduce you to the doctor?
What would you advise? asked Hazel. The name on my steerage ticket is William Jones.
Oh, thats no good as a nom de guerre too palpably a name chosen by an unimaginative man. I should sail under your own colours if I were you.
Good! Then John Hazel I am, and so will remain. As a guarantee of good faith, I promise you not to touch a card all the way across.
A good resolution; see that you keep it. And thus they enjoyed an appetising lunch together, and were regaled with one of the doctors best salads.
They got away from Cherbourg before the dinner hour, and after that meal Stranleigh and Hazel walked together on the main deck, until the latter, admitting he was rather fagged after the exciting events of the day, went off to his cabin, and Stranleigh was left alone to smoke a final cigar. He leaned on the rail and gazed meditatively at the smooth sea.