"The Engineer made no explanatory remarks as I looked about. It was all there before me. The man with the letter had stood where these men stood; blistered by the same heat, befouled with the same grime, half strangled with the same coal-dust; had eaten his meals, drunk his coffee, staggered to his bunk, been carried insensible to the small square room on the deck above, laid on a cot, and was now dead and to be buried at midnight. That was all!
"Up the ladder again to a room the size of a state-room with the berths out. Inside, on a plank resting on two supports, lay the crude, roughly hewn outline of a man wrapped in canvas, a flattened hump showing the feet and a round mass the head. Past this open door men walked carrying kettles of soup for the steerage. Outside in the corridor were heard sounds of hammering; the box was being made ready.
"Up a third ladder to Hunter's room. I stopped long enough to replace my coat and wash the grime from my hands and then sought the deck.
"She was still in her steamer chair, the roses in her lap. Not a cloud dimmed the sky; a soft, fresh, sweet air blew from the moonlit sea; the pathway of silver was still clear; souls could go to God straight up that ladder without missing a step, so bright was it. From the crowded deck came the sound of voices; some low and muffled, others breaking out into song and laughter.
"'Where have you been?' she called out. 'What did the Engineer want? Tell me, please; something had happened; I saw it in your face. Was anyone ill?'
"'Yes; but he is better now,' and my eye travelled the pathway of silver.
"'Oh, I am so sorry! Shall you see him again?'
"'Yes, at twelve.'
"'Tell me about it; can I help?'