Singing in the Shrouds by Ngaio Marsh Page A

to his chief steward, who gave the Cuddys and Mr. Donald McAngus to the first mate, whom he disliked; Brigid Carmichael and Dr. Makepiece to the second mate and the wireless officer, of whom he approved; and Miss Abbott, Father Jourdain and Mr. Merryman to the chief engineer, towards whom his attitude was neutral.
    This, the first luncheon on board, was also the first occasion at which the senior ship’s officers, with the exception of those on duty, were present. At a long table in a corner sat a number of young men presenting several aspects of adolescence and all looking a trifle sheepish. These were the electrical and engineering junior officers and the cadets.
    Alleyn arrived first at the table and was carefully installed by the captain’s steward. The Cuddys, already seated hard by, settled down to a good long stare and so, more guardedly, did Mr. McAngus. Mrs. Cuddy’s burning curiosity manifested itself in a dead-pan glare which was directed intermittently at the objects of her interest. Its mechanics might be said to resemble those of a lighthouse whose different frequencies make its signals recognizable far out at sea.
    Mr. Cuddy, on the contrary, kept observation under cover of an absent-minded smile, while Mr. McAngus quietly rolled his eyes in the direction of his objective and was careful not to turn his head.
    Miss Abbott, at the chief engineer’s table, gave Alleyn one sharp look and no more. Mr. Merryman rumpled his hair, opened his eyes very wide and then fastened with the fiercest concentration upon the menu. Father Jourdain glanced in a civilized manner at Alleyn and turned with a pleasant smile to his companions.
    At this juncture Mrs. Dillington-Blick made her entrance, rosy with achievement, buzzing with femininity, and followed by the captain, Aubyn Dale, and Timothy Makepiece.
    The captain introduced Alleyn—” Mr. Broderick, who joined us today—”
    The men made appropriate wary noises at each other. Mrs. Dillington-Blick, who might have been thought to be already in full flower, awarded herself a sort of bonus in effulgence. Everything about her blossomed madly. “Fun!” she seemed to be saying. “This is what I’m really good at. We’re all going to like this.”
    She bathed Alleyn in her personality. Her eyes shone, her lips were moist, but small hands fluttered at the ends of her Rubensesque arms. “But I
watched
you!” she cried. “I watched you with my heart in my mouth! Coming on board! Nipping up that frightful thing! Do tell me. Is it as terrifying as it looks or am I being silly?”
    “It’s plain murder,” Alleyn said, “and you’re not being silly at all. I was all of a tremble.”
    Mrs. Dillington-Blick cascaded with laughter. She raised and lowered her eyebrows at Alleyn and flapped her hands at the captain. “There now!” she cried. “Just what I supposed. How you dared! If it was a choice of feeding the little fishes or crawling up that ladder I swear I’d pop thankfully into the shark’s maw. And don’t you look so superior,” she chided Captain Bannerman.
    This was exactly how he had hoped she would talk. A fine woman who enjoyed a bit of chaff. And troubled though he was, he swelled a little in his uniform.
    “We’ll have you shinning down it like an old hand,” he teased, “when you go ashore at Las Palmas.”
    Aubyn Dale looked quizzically at Alleyn, who gave him the shadow of a wink. Mrs. Dillington-Blick was away to a magnificent start. Three men, one a celebrity, two good-looking, and all teasing her. Las Palmas? Did they mean…? Would she have to…? Ah
no
! She didn’t believe them.
    A number of rococo images chased each other improperly through Alleyn’s imagination. “Don’t give it another thought,” he advised. “You’ll make the grade. I understand that if the sea’s at all choppy they rig a safety net down below. Same as trapeze artists have when they lose their nerve
    “I won’t listen.”
    “It’s the form, though, I