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Julie was stunned. "Elliott, please."

"But we needn't discuss this, you and I," Elliott said quickly. Obviously rudeness wasn't easy for him. "There are other things I should like to discuss with you. Where you came from, who you really are. All those same questions I ask myself when I look into the mirror."

Ramses laughed, but he was now angry. Julie could feel it.

"You'll probably find my answers brief and disappointing. As for the marriage of Julie to your son, Lawrence believed it was Julie's choice. Let me see. How did he put it?" He turned his eyes on Henry again. "English is rather new to me, but my memory is exceptional. Ah, yes. 'Julie's marriage can wait forever.' My dear Henry, were those not the words?"

Henry's lips worked silently, but only a faint moan came out of his lips. Alex was red-faced, hurt, looking at Ramses. Julie had to do something to stop this, but what?

"Well, you certainly do seem to have been a close friend of Julie's father," Alex said almost sadly. "Closer perhaps than we realized. Was there anything else that Lawrence made known to you before he died?"

Poor, poor Alex! But this was all aimed at Henry, and in another moment things were going to explode.

"Yes," Ramses said. Julie grabbed his hand and squeezed it, but he did not acknowledge this. "Yes, that he thought his nephew was a bastard." Again he glared at Henry. "Am I right? 'You bastard.' Weren't those his last words?"

Henry rose from the chair, upsetting it. He stumbled backwards as the chair went over with a thud on the carpeted floor. He stared at Ramses, his mouth open, a low sound coming from him, half gasp, half moan.

"Good God," said Alex. "Mr. Ramsey, you go too far."

"Do I?" asked Ramses, watching Henry.

"Henry, you're drunk, old man," Alex said. "I should help you to your room."

"Please do not do this," Julie whispered. Elliott was studying both of them. He had not so much as looked up at Henry, who turned now and half stumbled towards the far door.

Alex stared at his plate, his face reddening.

"Mr. Ramsey, I think there's something you must understand," Alex said.

"What is that, young man?"

"Julie's father was plainspoken with those he loved." Then something dawned on him. "But ... you weren't there when he died, were you? I thought Henry was with him. Alone."

Elliott was silent.

"My, but this is going to be a very interesting trip," Alex said lamely. "I must confess--"

"It's going to be a disaster!" Julie said. She could take this no more. "Now, listen to me. All of you. I don't want any more talk of marriage; or of my father's death. I've had quite enough of both." She rose to her feet. "You must forgive me, but I'm leaving you now. I'll be in my cabin if you should need me." She looked down at Ramses. "But no more talk of these things, is that clear?"

She gathered up her small evening bag and walked slowly through the dining room, ignoring those who were staring.

"Oh, this is dreadful," she heard Alex say behind her. And then he was at her side. "I am so sorry, darling, really! Things just got out of hand."

"I want to go to my room, I told you," she said, walking faster.

Nightmare. You are going to wake up, back in London, safe, and none of this will have happened. You did what you had to do. That creature is a monster and must be destroyed.

He stood at the bar waiting for the Scotch, which seemed to be taking forever, and then he looked up and saw him--that thing, that thing that wasn't human, standing in the door.

"Never mind," he growled under his breath. He turned and rushed through the little carpeted corridor to the deck. Slam of the door behind him, the thing was coming after him. He turned, his face stung by the wind, and almost fell on the narrow metal steps. The thing was only a few feet away from him, those big glassy blue eyes staring at him. He ran up the steps, the wind working against him as he ran along the deserted deck.

Where was he going? How would he get away from it? He pushed open another door into a little corridor. Numbers he didn't recognize on the polished doors of the staterooms. He looked back; the thing had entered the corridor; it was pounding after him.

"Damn you." His voice was a whimper. Out on the deck again and this time the wind was so damp it was like ra

in. He couldn't see where he was going. He clutched the railing for a moment, looking down at the boiling grey sea.

No! Get away from the railing. He rushed along until he saw another doorway, and ducked inside again. He felt the vibration right behind him, heard the thing breathing. His gun, where the hell was his gun?