The Captive

by Виктория Холт

  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?”

  “I can see you are a stickler for the niceties of the English language. You must help me compile my speech.”

  “Haven’t you done it yet? My father has been working on his for ages.”

  “He’s a professional. Mine will be very different. I shall go on about the mysticism of the East. A sort of Arabian Nights flavour.”

  “Don’t forget you will be talking to experts.”

  “Oh, I-hope to appeal to a wider audience the imaginative, romantic sort.”

  “I am sure you will.”

  “I’m so glad we’re sailing together,” he said.

  “And now you are no longer a schoolgirl … that is exciting in itself, is it not?”

  “Yes, I suppose so.”

  “On the threshold of life … and adventure.”

  The sound of a hooter rent the air.

  “I think that means we are about to sail. Yes, it does. Adieu, England. Welcome new lands … new sights … new adventures.”

  He was laughing. I felt exhilarated and glad because he was with us.

  I continued to be so. My parents were made much of by the Captain and certain other travellers. The information that they were going to lecture in Cape Town and Northern America quickly spread and they were regarded with some awe. Lucas was very popular and in great demand. I knew why. He was one of those people who are without inhibitions; when he arrived at a gathering there was immediate laughter and general animation. He had the ability to make everything seem amusing.

  He was charming to me, but then he was to everybody. He went through life smoothly and easily, and I imagine getting his own way because of this rare gift of his.

  My cabin mate was greatly impressed.

  “What a charming man!” she said.

  “And you knew him before you came on board. Lucky you!”

  “Well, I met him briefly at a dinner party, and then he called to tell us he would be on board.”

  “It’s because of your father, I suppose.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “That he is so friendly.”

  “He’s friendly with everyone.”

  “He’s very attractive … too attractive,” she added ominously and regarding me speculatively. She was inclined to regard me as a simpleton because I had foolishly told her that I had cut school short to come on this trip. She had left the previous year, so must have been a year or so older than I. I had an idea she was warning me against Lucas. There was no need, I wanted to tell her fiercely; and then I feared I might be too fierce.

  She was right in one thing; I was ignorant of the ways of the world.

  But the time I spent with Lucas was certainly enjoyable.

  During the first days we found a sheltered spot on the deck, for at that time the sea was a little rough and the wind strong. My parents spent a good deal of time in their cabin and I was left free to explore.

  This I did with great interest and soon learned my way about the ship.

  I found the small cabin restricting, especially as it had to be shared with the rather loquacious and faintly patronizing Mary. I was glad to get out of it as much as possible. I found my top bunk a little stifling. I would wake early and lie there waiting for it to be time to get up.

  Then I discovered that I could descend the ladder without waking Mary.

  I could slip on a few things and go out on deck. The early morning was exhilarating. I would sit in our sheltered spot and look out over the sea, watching the sunrise. I loved to see the morning sky, sometimes delicately pearl, at others blood red. I would picture figures in the formation of the clouds as they drifted across the sky and listen to the waves swishing against the sides of the ship. It was never quite the same at any other time as it was in the morning.

  There was a man in blue overalls who used to swab that part of the deck where I sat each morning. I had struck up an acquaintance with him . if it could be called that. He would come along with his mop and pail, tip out the water and swab away.

  At such an hour the deck was almost deserted.

  As he approached I said: “Good morning. I came out for a breath of fresh air. It was stifling in the cabin.”

  “Oh yes,” he said, and went on swabbing.

  “Am I in your way? I’d better move.”

  “Oh no. It’s all right. I’ll go round and do that bit later.”

  It was a cultured voice devoid of accent. I studied him fairly tall, light brown hair and rather sad eyes.

  “You don’t get many people sitting out at this hour,” I said.

  “No.”

  “I expect you think I’m crazy.”

  “No … no. I understand you want to get the air. And this is the best time of the day.”

  “Oh, I do agree.”

  I insisted on getting up and he moved my chair and went on swabbing.

  That was the first morning I saw him and on the next one I met him again. By the third morning I imagined he looked for me. It was not exactly an assignation, but it seemed to have become part of the day’s ritual. We exchanged a few words.

  “Good morning … it’s a nice day .” and so on. He always kept his head down when he was swabbing, as tho
ugh completely absorbed by what he was doing.

  “You like the sea, don’t you?” he said on the fourth morning.

  I said I believed I did. I was not sure yet as it was the first time I’d been on it.

  “It takes a grip on you. It’s fascinating. It can change so quickly.”

  “Like life,” I said, thinking of the changes in mine.

  He did not answer and I went on: “I suppose you’ve had great experience of the sea?”

  He shook his head and moved away.

  Mealtimes on board were interesting. Lucas Lorimer, as a friend, sat at our table and Captain Graysom had made a pleasant custom of taking his seat at each table in turn during the voyage so that he could get to know most of his passengers. He had many stories to tell of his adventures at sea and that happy custom made it possible for all to hear of them.

  “It is easy for him,” said Lucas.

  “He has his repertoire and all he has to do is give a repeat performance at each table. You notice he knows just where to pause for the laugh and get the best dramatic effects.”

  “You are a little like that,” I told him.

  “Oh, I wasn’t suggesting repetition, but you know where the pauses should come, too.”

  “I see that you know me too well for my comfort.”

  “Well then, let me comfort you. I think one of the greatest gifts one can have is the ability to make people laugh.”

  He took my hand and kissed it.

  My parents, who were at the table when this dialogue took place, were a little startled. I think it might have brought home to them that I was growing up.

  Lucas and I were taking a walk round the deck when we encountered Captain Graysom. He used to walk round the ship every day to assure himself, I supposed, that everything was in order.

  “All well?” he asked as he approached.

  “Very well indeed,” answered Lucas.

  “Getting your sea legs now? They don’t always come at once. But we’ve been moderately lucky in the weather … so far.”

  “Isn’t it going to continue?” I asked.

  “You need a wiser man than I am to tell you that, Miss Cranleigh. We can only forecast… and never with absolute certainty. The weather is unpredictable. All the signs look good and then something quite unforeseen appears on the horizon and our forecasts go awry.”

  “Predictability can be a little dull,” said Lucas.

  “There is always a certain attraction in the unexpected.”

  “I’m not sure that applies to the weather,” said the Cap tain.

  “We’ll shortly be putting into Madeira. You’ll go ashore?”

  “Oh, yes,” I cried.

  “I’m looking forward to that.”

  “It’s a pity we only have one day there,” said Lucas.

  “Just long enough to pick up stores. You’ll like the island. You must sample the wine. It’s good.”

  Then he left us.

  “What plans have you for Madeira?” asked Lucas.

  “My parents haven’t said anything yet.”

  “I should like to escort you round the place.”

  “Oh, thank you. Have you been there before?”

  “Yes,” he replied.

  “So you will be safe with me.”

  It was exhilarating to wake up in the morning and see land. I was on deck early to watch our approach. I could see the green lush island rising out of a pellucid aquamarine-coloured sea. The sun was warm and there was no wind to disturb the water.

  My father had a slight cold and was staying on board;

  he had plenty to occupy him; and my mother would be with him. They thought it would be an excellent idea if I went ashore with Mr. Lorimer who had kindly offered to take me.

  I was content, feeling somewhat guiltily, how much more enjoyable it would be without them. Lucas did not say so, but I felt sure he shared my view.

  “Having been here before I shall know something about it,” he said.

  “And if there is anything of which I am ignorant-‘ ” Which is most unlikely. “

  “We shall discover it together,” he finished.

  And on that note we set out.

  I drew deep breaths of air which seemed scented with flowers. Indeed, there were flowers everywhere. Stalls were overflowing with brilliantly coloured blossoms, as well as baskets, embroidered bags, shawls and tablecloths and mats.

  compamo and I thoi the Professor. I was honoured . and look, it has led to this. So call it a talk. That’s much more cosy. As a matter of fact, I have a feeling it will shock your parents. It’s about gruesome things like curses and tomb robbers. “

  “People might enjoy hearing about that sort of thing rather than .. “

  “I’m not letting it bother me. If they don’t like it that will be that. So… I refuse to allow preparations to overshadow my pleasure.

  It’s the greatest good luck that we are travelling together. “

  “It’s certainly pleasant for me.”

  “We’re getting maudlin. It’s the wine perhaps. It’s good, isn’t it? We must buy a bottle to show our appreciation of the free sample.”

  “I hope all the free samples make it worthwhile.”

  “Must do, or they wouldn’t continue with the old custom, would they?

  In the meantime it is very pleasant sitting here in this darkish room, on these uncomfortable stools, sipping their excellent Madeira wine.”

  Several of our fellow passengers came into the cellar. We called greetings to each other. They all looked as though they were enjoying the day.

  Then a young man walked past our table, i “Oh hello,” said Lucas.

  The young man paused.

  “Oh,” said Lucas, “I thought I knew you.”

  The young man stared at Lucas stonily and then I recognized him, which I had not done previously because he was not on this occasion wearing the overalls in which I had always seen him before. He was the young man who swabbed the decks in the morning.

  “No,” he said.

  “I don’t think …”

  “Sorry. I just thought for the moment I’d met you somewhere.”

  I smiled and said: “You must have seen each other on board.”

  The deck hand had drawn himself up rather tensely and was studying Lucas, I thought, with a hint of uneasiness.

  “That must be it,” said Lucas.

  The young man passed on and sat at a table in a dark corner of the cellar.

  I whispered to Lucas: “He is one of the deck hands.”

  “You seem to be acquainted with him.”

  “I have met him on several mornings. I go up there to watch the sunrise and he comes round at that time swabbing the decks.”

  “He doesn’t look like a deck-swabber.”

  “That’s because he’s not in overalls.”

  “Well, thanks for enlightening me. The poor chap seemed a bit embarrassed. I hope he enjoys the wine as much as I have done. Come on. Let’s buy a bottle to take back to the ship. Perhaps we’d better get two. We’ll drink it at dinner tonight.”

  We bought the wine and came out into the sunshine.

  Slowly we made our way back to the launch which would take us to the ship. On the quay we stopped at a stall and Lucas bought one of the bags for me. It was heavily embroidered with scarlet and blue flowers.

  “A memento of a happy day,” he said.

  “To say thank you for letting me share it with you.”

  I thought how gracious and charming he was; he had certainly given me a happy day.

  “I shall always remember it when I see this bag,” I told him.

  “The flowers … the bullock carts and the wine …”

  “And even the swabber of decks.”

  “I shall remember every minute of it,” I assured him.

  Friendship grows quickly at sea.

  After Madeira we were in balmy weather with smooth seas. Lucas and I seemed to have become even firmer friends since our day ashor
e.

  Without making arrangements we met regularly on deck. He would seat himself beside me and we would talk desultorily as we watched the calm sea glide past.

  He told me a great deal about himself, how he had broken the tradition in the family that one of the sons should have a career in the Army.

  But it was not for him. He was not really sure what was for him. He was restless and travelled a good deal, usually in the company of Dick Duvane, his ex-batman and friend. Dick had left the Army when he had and they had been together ever since. Dick was in Cornwall now, making himself useful on the estate, which Lucas supposed was something he would have to come to eventually.

  “Just at the moment I’m uncertain,” he said.

  “There is enough to do on the estate to keep both my brother and me occupied. I suppose it would have been different if I had inherited. My brother Carleton is in charge and he’s the perfect squire … such as I should never be.

  He’s the best fellow in the world, but I don’t like playing second fiddle. It’s against my arrogant nature. So . since leaving the Army, I’ve drifted a bit. I’ve travelled a great deal. Egypt has always fascinated me and when I found the stone in the garden it seemed like fate. And so it was, because here am I at the moment, travelling with the elite such as your parents . and of course their charming daughter. And all because I found a stone in the garden. But I am talking all this time about myself. What of you? What are your plans?”

  “I haven’t made any. I’ve cut school, you know, to come here. Who knows what the future holds?”

  “No one can be sure, of course, but sometimes one has the opportunity to mould it.”

  “Have you moulded yours?”

  “I am in the process of doing so.”

  “And your brother’s estate is in Cornwall.”

  “Yes. As a matter of fact, it’s not far from that place which has been in the papers recently.”

  “Oh … what’s that?”

  “Did you read about the young man who was on the point of being arrested and disappeared?”

  “Oh yes. I remember. Wasn’t it Simon somebody? Perrivale, was it?”

  “That’s it. He took his name from the man who adopted him. Sir Edward Perrivale. Their place is some six or eight miles from ours. Perrivale Court. It’s a wonderful old mansion I went there once… long ago.