‘There’s a gossip running about the passengers aft,’ said he, ‘that you belong to a noble family. What d’ye think yourself?’
‘How can I tell, Mr. Harris?’ I exclaimed. ‘I do not know who I am.’
‘I haven’t rightly caught the name of the noble family,’ said he. ‘I’m a poor hand at fine language. Perhaps you know it?’
‘Sir Frederick Thompson,’ I answered, says that I resemble a certain Lady Lucy Calthorpe.’
‘Ah, that’s it,’ he exclaimed. ‘Calthorpe’s the word. Don’t the mention of it give you any inward sensations?’
‘Then bet your life, mam, you’re somebody else. That’s what I’ve been wanting to find out. No inward sensations! Over goes the show as far as concerns Calthorpe.’
‘Mrs. Lee is waiting for me,’ said I, making a step.
‘One minute,’ he exclaimed. ‘I’ve been turning over the matter of shocks in my mind. There’s nothing for it, I fear, but a shock. Now, if you are willing, I’ll have a talk with the captain, and tell him the scheme that’s running in my head. But you must know nothing about it, or it won’t be a shock.’
‘I am not willing, Mr. Harris,’ said I. ‘I do not like the idea.’
Seeing that I was moving away he exclaimed: ‘If you leave yourself in the hands of the doctor he’ll do nothing for you. Place yourself in my hands. I’m your man.’
Thus speaking he climbed the stairs, and I entered my berth. I considered Mr. Harris, the chief officer, eccentric and well meaning, and I dismissed him from my mind when, having sent the stewardess to Mrs. Lee, I entered my berth.
I stood with my eyes fixed upon the cabin porthole, that was at one moment buried in the white thunder of the pouring waters and at the next lifted high and weeping into the windy dazzle of the afternoon, thinking over what had passed in the captain’s cabin; and whilst I thus stood, a strange and awful feeling as of the unreality of all things took possession of me. Everything seemed part of the fabric of a dream, and I, the central dreamer of it all, seemed the most dreamlike feature of the mocking and startling vision. Oh, what a strange and horrible feeling was that!
It was dispelled by the entrance of Mrs. Richards. Her hearty, homely presence brought me to my senses.
‘Well, it is good news indeed!’ cried she. ‘Mrs. Lee has told me what the captain said, and I am truly glad to know that there is no chance of your leaving the ship until your memory is able to point true to your own home. What think you of this bonnet? And what do you say to this cloak? I am sure the Lees, mother and daughter, are the very soul of goodness. But who could help being kind to one in your condition? So helpless! So lonely! And Mrs. Lee has settled that you’re not a Calthorpe. Well, I daresay she’s right. And yet, do you know that little City gentleman don’t look much of a fool either. But whatever you be you’re a born lady. There’s breeding in your voice--oh! I’ve got an ear for quality voices. The cloak’s a bit short, but it looks very well. Let me pin that veil for you.’