The Regatta Mystery and Other Stories

But I wonder sometimes--suppose I hadn't made that initial mistake--the scar on the left cheek--when really it was the right--reversed by the mirror .... Should I have been so sure the man was Charles Crawley? Would I have warned

Sylvia? Would she be married to me--or to him?

Or are the past and the future all one?

I'm a simple fellow--and I can't pretend to understand these things--but I saw what I saw--and because of what I saw, Sylvia and I are to-gether-in the old-fashioned words--till death do us part. And perhaps beyond ....

"Colonel Clapperton!" said General Forbes.

He said it with an effect midway between a

snort and a sniff.

Miss Ellie Henderson leaned forward, a strand of her soft gray hair blowing across her face. Her eyes, dark and snapping, gleamed with a wicked pleasure.

"Such a soldierly-looking man!" she said with malicious intent, and smoothed back the lock of hair to await the result.

"Soldierly!" exploded General Forbes. He tugged at his military mustache and his face became bright red.

"In the Guards, wasn't he?" murmured Miss Henderson, completing her work.

"Guards? Guards? Pack of nonsense. Fellow was on the music hall stage! Fact! Joined up and was out in France counting tins of plum and

193 194 Agatha Christie

apple. Huns dropped a stray bomb and he went home with a flesh wound in the arm. Somehow or other got into Lady Carrington's hospital." "So that's how they met." "Fact! Fellow played the wounded hero. Lady Carrington had no sense and oceans of money. Old Carrington had been in munitions. She'd been a widow only six months. This fellow snaps her up in no time. She wangled him a job at the War Office. Colonel Clapperton! Pah!" he snorted. "And before the war he was on the music hall stage," mused Miss Henderson, trying to reconcile the distinguished gray-haired Colonel Clap-perton with a red-nosed comedian singing mirth-provoking songs. "Fact!" said General Forbes. "Heard it from old Bassington-ffrench. And he heard it from old Badger Cotterill who'd got it from Snooks Parker" Miss Henderson nodded brightly. "That does seem to settle it!" she said. A fleeting smile showed for a minute on the face of a small man sitting near them. Miss Henderson noticed the smile. She was observant. It had

shown appreciation of the irony underlying her

last remark--irony which the General never for a moment suspected. The General himself did not notice the smiles. He glanced at his watch, rose and remarked: "Exercise. Got to keep oneself fit on a boat," and passed out through the open door onto the deck. Miss Henderson glanced at the man who had smiled. It was a well-bred glance indicating that she was ready to enter into conversation with a fellow traveler.

PROBLEI AT SEA 195

energetic--yes, said the little man. ii. "He is ·

"He goes round the deck forty-eight times exactly," said Miss Henclerson. "What an old gossip! And they say we are the scandal-loving sex. ' '

"What an impoliteness!', "Frenchmen are always polite," said Miss

Henderson--there was the nuance of a question in

her voice.

The little man responded promptly. "Belgian,

Mademoiselle." "Oh I Belgian."

"Hercule Poirot. At YOUr service."

The name aroused sonic memory. Surely she

had heard it before--? "Are you enjoying this

trip, M. Poirot?"

"Frankly, no. It was an imbecility to allow

myself to be persuaded to come. I detest ia mcr. Never does it remain tranquil--no, not for a little

minute."

"Well, you admit it's quite calm now."

M. Poirot admitted this grudgingly. ",'i ce moment, yes. That is why I revive. I once more interest myself in what passea around mewyour very adept handling Of the General Forbes, for instance." "You meanw" Miss Hetdei-son paused. Hercule Poirot bowed. "Your methods of extracting the scandalous matter. Admirable!" Miss Henderson laughed in an unashamed manner. "That touch about the Guards.'? I knew that would bring the old boy up spluttering and gasping.'' She leaned forward Confidentially. "I admit I like scandal--the more ill-natured, the better!" Poirot looked thoughtfully at her--her slim 196

Agatha Christie

well-preserved figure, her keen dark eyes, her gray hair; a woman of forty-five who was content to look her age.

Ellie said abruptly: "I have it! Aren't you the great detective?"

Poirot bowed. "You are too amiable, Ma-demoiselle." But he made no disclaimer.

"How thrilling," said Miss Henderson. "Are you 'hot on the trail' as they say in books? Have we a criminal secretly in our midst? Or am I being indiscreet?"

"Not at all. Not at all. It pains me to disappoint your expectations, but I am simply here, like everyone else, to amuse myself."

He said it in such a gloomy voice that Miss Henderson laughed.

"Oh! Well, you will be able to get ashore to-morrow at Alexandria. You have been to Egypt before?"

"Never, Mademoiselle."

Miss Henderson rose somewhat abruptly.

"I think I shall join the General on his constitu-tional,'' she announced.

Poirot sprang politely to his feet.

She gave him a little nod and passed out onto the deck.