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She stopped. “This is true?”

“Quite true.”

She began to walk again. “It may have been the steward.”

“No. Banat had been in my cabin. I could smell that scent of his.”

She was silent for a moment. Then: “Have you told anyone?”

“It’s no use my making a complaint. The revolver will be at the bottom of the sea by now. I have no proof that Banat took it. Besides, they wouldn’t listen to me after the scene I made with the Purser yesterday.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Ask you to do something for me.”

She looked at him quickly. “What?”

“You said last night that José had a revolver and that you might be able to get it for me.”

“You are serious?”

“Never more so in all my life.”

She bit her lip. “But what am I to say to José if he finds that it is gone?”

“Will he find out?”

“He may do.”

He began to get angry. “It was, I think, your idea that you should get it for me.”

“It is so necessary that you should have a revolver? There is nothing that he can do.”

“It was also your idea that I should carry a revolver.”

She looked sullen. “I was frightened by what you said about this man. But that was because it was dark. Now that it is daytime it is different.” She smiled suddenly. “Ah, my friend, do not be so serious. Think of the nice time we will have in Paris together. This man is not going to make any trouble.”

“I’m afraid he is.” He told her about his encounter by the stairs, and added: “Besides, why did he steal my revolver if he doesn’t intend to make trouble?”

She hesitated. Then she said slowly: “Very well, I will try.”

“Now?”

“Yes, if you wish. It is in his box in the cabin. He is in the salone reading. Do you want to wait here for me?”

“No, I’ll wait on the deck below. I don’t want to have to talk to these people here just now.”

They went down and stood for a moment by the rail at the foot of the companionway.

“I’ll stay here.” He pressed her hand. “My dear Josette, I can’t tell you how grateful I am to you for this.”

She smiled as if at a small boy to whom she had promised sweets. “You shall tell me that in Paris.”

He watched her go and then turned to lean against the rail. She could not be more than five minutes. He stared for a time at the long, curling bow wave streaming out and away to meet the transverse wave from the stern and be broken by it into froth. He looked at his watch. Three minutes. Someone clattered down the companionway.

“Good morning, Mr. Graham. You feel all right today, eh?” It was Mr. Kuvetli.

Graham turned his head. “Yes, thanks.”

“Monsieur and Madame Mathis are hopeful to play some bridge this afternoon. Do you play?”

“Yes, I play.” He was not, he knew, being very gracious but he was terrified lest Mr. Kuvetli should attach himself to him.

“Then perhaps we make party of four, eh?”

“By all means.”

“I do not play well. Is very difficult game.”

“Yes.” Out of the corner of his eye he saw Josette step through the door from the landing on to the deck.

Mr. Kuvetli’s eyes flickered in her direction. He leered. “This afternoon then, Mr. Graham.”

“I shall look forward to it.”

Mr. Kuvetli went. Josette came up to him.

“What was he saying?”

“He was asking me to play bridge.” Something in her face set his heart going like a trip hammer. “You’ve got it?” he said quickly.

She shook her head. “The box was locked. He has the keys.”

He felt the sweat prickling out all over his body. He stared at her trying to think of something to say.

“Why do you look at me like that?” she exclaimed angrily. “I cannot help it if he keeps the box locked.”

“No, you cannot help it.” He knew now that she had not intended to get the revolver. She couldn’t be blamed. He couldn’t expect her to steal for him. He had asked too much of her. But he had been banking on that revolver of José’s. Now, in God’s name, what was he going to do?

She rested her hand on his arm. “You are angry with me?”

He shook his head. “Why should I be angry? I should have had the sense to keep my own revolver in my pocket. It’s just that I was relying on your getting it. It’s my own fault. But, as I told you, I’m not used to this sort of thing.”

She laughed. “Ah, you need not worry; I can tell you something. This man does not carry a gun.”

“What! How do you know?”

“He was going up the stairs in front of me when I came back just now. His clothes are tight and creased. If he carried a revolver I would have seen the shape of it in his pocket.”

“You are sure of this?”

“Of course. I would not tell you if …”

“But a small gun …” He stopped. A nine millimetre self-loading pistol would not be a small gun. It would weigh about two pounds and would be correspondingly bulky. It would not be the sort of thing a man would carry about in his pocket if he could leave it in a cabin. If …

She was watching his face. “What is it?”

“He’ll have left his gun in his cabin,” he said slowly.

She looked him in the eyes. “I could see that he does not go to his cabin for a long time.”

“How?”

“José will do it.”

“José?”

“Be calm. I will not have to tell José anything about you. José will play cards with him this evening.”

“Banat would play cards. He is a gambler. But will José ask him?”

“I shall tell José that I saw this man open a wallet with a lot of money in it. José will see that he plays cards. You do not know José.”

“You’re sure you can do it?”

She squeezed his arm. “Of course. I do not like you to be worried. If you take his gun then you will have nothing at all to fear, eh?”

“No, I shall have nothing at all to fear.” He said it almost wonderingly. It seemed so simple. Why hadn’t he thought of it before? Ah, but he had not known before that the man did not carry his gun. Take the man’s gun away from him and he couldn’t shoot. That was logical. And if he couldn’t shoot there was nothing to fear. That was logical too. The essence of all good strategy is simplicity.

He turned to her. “When can you do this?”

“This evening would be best. José does not like so much to play cards in the afternoon.”

“How soon this evening?”

“You must not be impatient. It will be some time after the meal.” She hesitated. “It will be better if we are not seen together this afternoon. You do not want him to suspect that we are friends.”

“I can play bridge with Kuvetli and the Mathises this afternoon. But how shall I know if it is all right?”

“I will find a way to let you know.” She leaned against him. “You are sure that you are not angry with me about José’s revolver?”

“Of course I’m not.”

“There is no one looking. Kiss me.”

“Banking!” Mathis was saying. “What is it but usury? Bankers are money lenders, usurers. But because they lend other people’s money or money that does not exist, they have a pretty name. They are still usurers. Once, usury was a mortal sin and an abomination, and to be a usurer was to be a criminal for whom there was a prison cell. To-day the usurers are the gods of the earth and the only mortal sin is to be poor.”

“There are so many poor people,” said Mr. Kuvetli profoundly. “It is terrible!”

Mathis shrugged impatiently. “There will be more before this war is finished. You may depend upon it. It will be a good thing to be a soldier. Soldiers, at least, will be given food.”

“Always,” said Madame Mathis, “he talks nonsense. Always, always. But when we get back to France it will be different. His friends will not listen so politely. Banking! What does he know about banking?”