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. 1 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.
It was about something my father was involved in to do with the neighbourhood and Sir Edward was interested. I rode over with my father. When I read about the case in the papers it all came back.
There were two brothers and the adopted one. We were all shocked when we read about it. One doesn’t expect that sort of thing to happen to people one knows . however slightly. “
“How very interesting. There was a lot of talk about it in our house . among the servants … not my parents.”
While we were talking, the deck-swabber came by, trundling a trolley on which were bottles of beer.
“Good morning,” I called.
He nodded his head in acknowledgement and went on wheeling.
“A friend of yours? ” said Lucas.
“He’s the one who swabs the deck. Remember, he was in the wine cellar.”
“Oh yes … I remember. Seems a bit surly, doesn’t he?”
“He’s a little reserved, perhaps. It may be that they are not supposed to talk to passengers.”
“He seems different from the others.”
“Yes, I thought so. He never says much more than good-morning and perhaps a comment on the weather.”
We dismissed the man from our minds and talked of other things. He
told me about the estate in Cornwall and some of the eccentric people who lived there. I told him about my home life and Mr. Dolland’s ‘turns’; and I had him laughing at my descriptions of kitchen life.
“You seem to have enjoyed it very much.”
“Oh, I was fortunate.”
“Do your parents know?”
“They are not really interested in anything that happened after the birth of Christ.”
And so we talked.
The next morning when I took my seat on deck in the early morning, I saw the deck-swabber, but he did not come near me.
We were heading for Cape Town and the wind had been rising all day. I had seen little of my parents. They spent a lot of time in their cabin. My father was perfecting his lecture and working on his book and my mother was helping him. I saw them at meals when they regarded me with that benign
“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. 1 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.
It was about something my father was involved in to do with the neighbourhood and Sir Edward was interested. I rode over with my father. When I read about the case in the papers it all came back.
There were two brothers and the adopted one. We were all shocked when we read about it. One doesn’t expect that sort of thing to happen to people one knows . however slightly. “
“How very interesting. There was a lot of talk about it in our house . among the servants … not my parents.”
While we were talking, the deck-swabber came by, trundling a trolley on which were bottles of beer.
“Good morning,” I called.
He nodded his head in acknowledgement and went on wheeling.
“A friend of yours? ” said Lucas.
“He’s the one who swabs the deck. Remember, he was in the wine cellar.”
“Oh yes … I remember. Seems a bit surly, doesn’t he?”
“He’s a little reserved, perhaps. It may be that they are not supposed to talk to passengers.”
“He seems different from the others.”
“Yes, I thought so. He never says much more than good-morning and perhaps a comment on the weather.”
We dismissed the man from our minds and talked of other things. He
told me about the estate in Cornwall and some of the eccentric people who lived there. I told him about my home life and Mr. Dolland’s ‘turns’; and I had him laughing at my descriptions of kitchen life.
“You seem to have enjoyed it very much.”
“Oh, I was fortunate.”
“Do your parents know?”
“They are not really interested in anything that happened after the birth of Christ.”
And so we talked.
The next morning when I took my seat on deck in the early morning, I saw the deck-swabber, but he did not come near me.
We were heading for Cape Town and the wind had been rising all day. I had seen little of my parents. They spent a lot of time in their cabin. My father was perfecting his lecture and working on his book and my mother was helping him. I saw them at meals when they regarded me with that benign
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