At midnight he went on board. The decks and saloons were swarming and
noisy with seagoers, many of whom had come to the ship directly from the
theatres and restaurants, the women bareheaded, in evening gowns. Jimmie
felt grateful to them. They gave to the moment of his taking off an air
of gentle gayety. Among those who were sailing, and those who had come
to wish them "bon voyage," many were known to Jimmie. He told them he
was going abroad at the command of his oculist. Also, he forced himself
upon the notice of officers and stewards, giving them his name, and
making inquiries concerning the non-appearance of fictitious baggage.
Later, they also recalled the young man in dinner jacket and golf cap
who had lost a dressing-case marked "James Blagwin."

In his cabin Jimmie wrote two letters. The one to the captain of the
ship read:

"After we pass Fire Island I am going overboard. Do
not make any effort to find me, as it will be useless.
I am sorry to put you to this trouble."

The second letter was to Jeanne. It read:

"Picard agreed with the others. My case is hopeless.
I am ending all to-night. Forgive me. I leave you all
the love in all the world. Jimmie."

When he had addressed these letters he rang for the steward.

"I am not going to wait until we leave the dock," he said. "I am turning
in now. I am very tired, and I don't want you to wake me on any excuse
whatsoever until to-morrow at noon. Better still, don't come until I
ring!"

When the steward had left him, Jimmie pinned the two letters upon the
pillow, changed the steamer-cap for an Alpine hat, and beneath a
rain-coat concealed his evening clothes. He had purposely selected the
deck cabin farthest aft. Accordingly, when after making the cabin dark
he slipped from it, the break in the deck that separated the first from
the second class passengers was but a step distant. The going-ashore
bugles had sounded, and more tumult than would have followed had the
ship struck a rock now spread to every deck. With sharp commands
officers were speeding the parting guests; the parting guests were
shouting passionate good-bys and sending messages to Aunt Maria;
quartermasters howled hoarse warnings, donkey-engines panted under the
weight of belated luggage, fall and tackle groaned and strained. And the
ship's siren, enraged at the delay, protested in one long-drawn-out,
inarticulate shriek.

Jimmie slipped down the accommodation ladder that led to