But his voice was almost gentle as he spoke. “’T would be weel, ver-r-ry weel,” he said in a strong Scotch burr, “if ye didna speak. These things ha’ no par-r-t of ye.” With this, he turned and left the room.
Bess sank into a chair, full of conflicting emotions and was there thinking, when Nan came into the stateroom after her.
“Bess, why Bess,” Nan exclaimed, “what is the matter with you? You looked scared to death.”
Bess whimpered softly, “I am.” This sounded strange coming from Bess, and was strange in the face of her avowal of a few days before that if she ever came upon him alone she would scream so loud that everybody on the boat would come running. It was strange too, because Bess, generally, when upset at all, responded with a torrent of words. Now, she looked wilted as though every ounce of energy had been squeezed out of her.
Nan got her a glass of water and held it as she sipped slowly. Then she smiled wanly and sat silent, for a while, collecting her thoughts.
“Nan, it’s that red-headed hunchback again,” she said, finally. “You’ve got to tell me what you know about him. I came upon him just now in our cabin. He was over there,” her voice grew stronger as she spoke, but sounded sharp and nervous, “by your baggage.”
Nan went over and carefully examined her locked baggage. It hadn’t been tampered with. She felt this instinctively just as soon as she put her hands on it. What had the hunchback intended to do before Bess discovered him?
“What did he say to you?” She turned to Bess.
Bess considered before answering. Were the deformed little man’s words a warning? Had he meant that she shouldn’t repeat what he had said? Had he meant that she shouldn’t tell of his presence at all? Bess was startled as this latter thought came to her, startled and frightened.
“I—I——don’t remember what he said,” Bess began.