There was a mystery here unexplained,
involving the dead, and strangely complicating the lives of the living.
I paced the deck undisturbed, struggling vainly to evolve some
solution. Broussard stared in my direction for a moment, but made no
effort to follow, and finally disappeared forward. There was nothing
on sea or land to distract my attention, and I felt that I would be
nearer to her below in the cabin than on deck. The skylight was
closed, although even then it gave me a partial view, and, as I gazed
through the clouded glass, I perceived a shadow pass. The next instant
the negro steward emerged from the companion. Some swift impulse led
me to crouch instantly out of sight, until the sound of his feet on the
deck convinced me the fellow was going forward. I watched him
cautiously; he stopped twice to glance back, but, perceiving nothing,
finally vanished into the forecastle. While I in no way connected his
actions with myself, yet the disquieting thought as instantly occurred
to me that the negro's going forward had left the Captain and Viola
Henley alone below. If the steward was acting under orders his being
dispatched from the cabin at this hour was for a purpose. Determined
to learn what this purpose might be, I crept to the door of the
companion, and then down the stairs.
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