“There—there,” she gasped, pointing to the poop. “He went over the side—a minute ago—there is still time to stop the steamer and pick him up.”
“Who went over the side? No one was aft but yourself,” said the officer.
“It was Jack—Mr Norgate. Oh, why will you make no effort to rescue him? I tell you that I saw him go over.”
The officer felt how she was trembling with excitement. She tried to rush across the deck, but would have fallen through sheer weakness, if the man had not supported her. He brought her to the seat at the side of the cabin dome-light.
“You are overcome, Miss Compton,” he said. “You must calm yourself while I look into this business.”
“You do not believe that I saw anything; but I tell you—oh, he will be lost while you are delaying,” she cried.
“Nothing of the sort,” he said. “But for heaven’s sake sit here. Leave the thing to me.”
He ran astern and made a pretence of peering into the distance of the ship’s seething wake. He was wondering what he should do. The poor girl was evidently the victim of a hallucination. Several weeks had passed since her lover had disappeared, and all this time her grief at his loss had been poignant. This thing that had happened was the natural result of the terrible strain upon her nerves. Of course he never thought of awaking the captain or of stopping the vessel.
While he was still peering over the taffrail, her voice sounded beside him.
“Here—it was just here,” she said.