It may be argued that I must have been in a highly nervous condition
in order to be affected in such a manner by the mere sight of a man--a
man who had never addressed to me a single word of conversation.
Perhaps so. Yet up to that period of my life my temperament and habit
of mind had been calm, unimpressionable, and if I may say so, not
specially absurd.
What need to inquire how the man had got on board that ship--how he
had escaped death in the railway accident--how he had eluded my sight
at Dover Priory? There he stood. Evidently he had purposed to pursue
me to Paris, and little things like railway collisions were
insufficient to deter him. I surmised that he must have quitted the
compartment at Sittingbourne immediately after me, meaning to follow
me, but that the starting of the train had prevented him from entering
the same compartment as I entered. According to this theory, he must
have jumped into another compartment lower down the train as the train
was moving, and left it when the collision occurred, keeping his eye
on me all the time, but not coming forward. He must even have walked
after me down the line from Dover Priory to the pier.
However, a shipwreck was a more serious affair than a railway
accident. And if the ship were indeed doomed, it would puzzle even him
to emerge with his life. He might seize me in the water, and from
simple hate drag me to destruction,--yes, that was just what he would
do,--but he would have a difficulty in saving himself. Such were my
wild and fevered notions!
On the starboard bow I saw the dim bulk and the masthead lights of a
steamer approaching us. The other passengers had observed it, too,
and there was a buzz of anticipation on the slanting deck. Only the
inimical man opposite to me seemed to ignore the stir. He did not even
turn round to look at the object which had aroused the general
excitement. His eyes never left me.
The vessel came nearer, till we could discern clearly the outline of
her, and a black figure on her bridge. She was not more than a hundred
yards away when the beat of her engines stopped. She hailed us. We
waited for the answering call from our own captain, but there was no
reply. Twice again she hailed us, and was answered only by silence.
"Why don't our people reply?" an old lady asked, who came up to me at
that moment, breathing heavily.
"Because they are d----d fools," I said roughly. She was a most
respectable and prim old lady; yet I could not resist shocking her
ears by an impropriety.
The other ship moved away into the night.