“Nobody’s supposed to know I’m on the ship,” he said, putting up a finger to touch my lips in a gesture that sent shivers down my spine. “I didn’t even know you were on board until I saw the passenger list. Then, of course, I couldn’t contact you, which was infuriating. I shouldn’t have come here now but I wanted you to be forewarned in the morning when you’re summoned to a meeting and find that I’m there.”

“But why the secrecy? Are you running away from the law or on some kind of mission?”

“Rather more of the latter,” he said, “but I’m afraid I can’t tell you about it at the moment. How amazing that it was you who saw the person go overboard. I nearly choked when I was on the bridge and saw you brought in. I had to duck down the steps in the corner so you didn’t see me.”

“It’s funny but I sensed you were there,” I said. “I think after what I’d just experienced I might have fainted dead away if I’d seen you.”

He shook his head. “Not you. You’re made of sterner stuff.”

“The problem is that I really don’t know what I saw, except it looked like long hair floating out in the ocean. Do you think a person went overboard?”

“We won’t know until someone is reported missing,” he said. “The captain has done a good job of retracing our course but I’m afraid anybody in the ocean could have drifted or been swamped by a wave or just given up by the time we got there. And if there was no sign of a struggle, as you said, then they may have been unconscious or even dead by the time they hit the water.”

I shivered. “Don’t. It’s too horrible. One minute we’re all having fun at a ball and the next something like this happens.”

He put an arm around my shoulders. “So—you were having fun at a ball without me, were you?”

“If you really want to know it was awful. Mummy chose a black cat costume for me that made me look like a black drainpipe with whiskers, Cy Goldman kept trying to force cocktails down me and an awful chap called Algie Broxley-Foggett was dressed as a knight in fake armor and insisted on dancing with me, knocking over everyone in the process. So no, I was not exactly having fun.”

Darcy grinned. “Broxley-Foggett? He was at school with me. Scrawny little chap when I was in the sixth form. Absolutely clueless sort of fellow. I believe he set the dorm on fire once, trying to practice smoking.”