The main cabin was vacant, but the door of number 5 stateroom stood
slightly ajar. Assured I should find it empty, my heart already
beating furiously, I took a swift glance within. It in no way differed
from the room which had been assigned me opposite, and everything was
in perfect order. Evidently the girl had departed without a struggle,
and with full expectation of an early return. Her small hand-bag lay
on the berth unlatched, and a handkerchief, together with a pair of
gloves, were upon the chair. That she had not gone on deck was a
certainty, while the deserted cabin led me irresistibly to suspect the
Captain's quarters. He had dismissed the steward on some excuse,
opened her door, and, using some pretense, or authority, had impelled
her to accompany him. She had no means of resistance even if she had
suspected his purpose, and the probability was the fellow had been
plausible enough to achieve his point without violence. This was all
clear enough to my mind, but what I could do to help her, to overcome
him, was not so evident. I was alone, unarmed, surrounded by men under
his command.
Possibly, even now, I was under surveillance. The negro had left the
cabin, I knew, but where was Herman? Broussard was in charge of the
deck, and hence this would be the first mate's watch below.
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