“This is the other young explorer, Böhme,” said von Brüning. “Herr Davies kidnapped him a month ago, and bullied and starved him into submission; they’ll drown together yet. I believe his sufferings have been terrible.”
“His sufferings are over,” I retorted. “I’ve mutinied—deserted—haven’t I, Davies?” I caught Davies gazing with solemn _gaucherie_ at Miss Dollmann.
“Oh, what?” he stammered. I explained in English. “Oh, yes, Carruthers has to go home,” he said, in his vile lingo.
No one spoke for a moment, and even von Brüning had no persiflage ready.
“Well, are we never going to have supper?” said Madame impatiently; and with that we all moved towards the folding doors. There had been little formality in the proceedings so far, and there was less still in the supper-room. Böhme resumed his repast with appetite, and the rest of us sat down apparently at random, though an underlying method was discernible. As it worked out, Dollmann was at one end of the small table, with Davies on his right and Böhme on his left; Frau Dollmann at the other, with me on her right and von Brüning on her left. The seventh personage, Fräulein Dollmann, was between the Commander and Davies on the side opposite to me. No servants appeared, and we waited on ourselves. I have a vague recollection of various excellent dishes, and a distinct one of abundance of wine. Someone filled me a glass of champagne, and I confess that I drained it with honest avidity, blessing the craftsman who coaxed forth the essence, the fruit that harboured it, the sun that warmed it.
“Why are you going so suddenly?” said von Brüning to me across the table.
“Didn’t I tell you we had to call here for letters? I got mine this morning, and among others a summons back to work. Of course I must obey.” (I found myself speaking in a frigid silence.) “The annoying thing was that there were two letters, and if I had only come here two days sooner I should have only got the first, which gave me an extension.”
“You are very conscientious. How will they know?”
“Ah, but the second’s rather urgent.” There was another uncomfortable silence, broken by Dollmann.
“By the way, Herr Davies,” he began, “I ought to apologise to you for——”
This was no business of mine, and the less interest I took in it the better; so I turned to Frau Dollmann and abused the fog.