“What in the hell actually happened?” I asked, leaning in a little closer over the table to shut out some of the general noise.

“Well, it was mayhem,” he said. “He tried to attack me, and I had no choice but to use the gun. He got away, over the veranda, as a matter of fact, because I couldn’t hold the bloody gun steady. It was simply too big for these old hands.” He gave a sigh. He seemed tired, frayed at the edges. “After that, it was really a matter of calling the Motherhouse, and having them bail me out. Calls back and forth to Cunard in Liverpool.” He made a dismissive gesture. “I was on a plane for Miami at noon. Of course I didn’t want to leave you unattended aboard the vessel, but there really was no choice.”

“I was never in the slightest danger,” I said. “I feared for you. I told you not to fear for me.”

“Well, that’s what I thought would be the case. I sent them after James, of course, hoping to drive him from the ship. It became plain they could not even consider undertaking a cabin-by-cabin search of the vessel. So I thought you’d be left alone. I’m almost certain James disembarked right after the melee. Otherwise they would have apprehended him. I gave them a full description of course.”

He stopped, took a gingerly little sip of his fancy drink, and then laid it down.

“You don’t really like that, do you? Where’s your disgusting Scotch?”

“The drink of the islands,” he said. “No, I don’t like it, but it doesn’t matter. How did it go with you?”

I didn’t answer. I was of course seeing him with my old vision, and his skin was more translucent, and all the little infirmities of his body were plain. Yet he possessed the aura of the marvelous as do all mortals to a vampire’s eyes.

He seemed weary, racked with nervous tension. Indeed, his eyes were red around the edges, and again I saw that stiffness about his mouth. I also noted a sagging to his shoulders. Had this awful ordeal aged him further? I couldn’t bear to see this in him. But his face was full of concern now as he looked at me.

“Something bad has happened with you,” he said, softening even more and reaching across the table and laying his fingers on my hand. How warm they felt. “I can see this in your eyes.”

“I don’t want to talk here,” I said. “Come up to my rooms at the hotel.”

“No, let’s stay here,” he said very gently. “I feel anxious after all that’s happened. It was quite an ordeal, really, for a man my age. I’m exhausted. I hoped you would come last night.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t. I should have. I knew this was a terrible trial for you, even though you enjoyed it so much when it was going on.”

“You thought so?” He gave a slow sad smile. “I need another drink. What did you say? Scotch?”