"That is understood," I agreed.
His eyes hardened.
"Did you ever hear of the Red Death and the Black Death, Master Ormerod!"
I shook my head, puzzled.
"You have met the Black Death. You have yet to meet the Red Death. And you may meet the Black Death again," he added as Tom groaned where he lay on the floor.
Marjory shuddered.
"Enough of this!" she exclaimed. "Is it understood there is to be no killing on this ship?"
"It is, my dear," Murray responded. "And now I think you had best withdraw. This has been a trying interview for you, I fear."
She looked from one to the other of us, as if half in doubt; and then gathered her cloak around her. We all three, as with one accord, bowed low as she stepped into the passage.
Murray opened a lanthorn and snuffed the candle within.