But the young man decided he would withhold any decision regarding the captain until the latter had a chance to explain why the crew should put off in a boat in the night, and why Jarrow was not in his cabin. There might be a reason for it all which would be perfectly plausible, if not convincing of the captain's good intentions.
Doc came to the door of his room, and whispered: "Yo' all want the lamp goin', Mr. Trask?"
"No," said Trask. "You go to bed and keep still." He felt that the steward was inordinately curious about the visit to the captain's room and why Trask was walking about outside.
"Cap'n Jarrow, he's gone for'ard," offered Doc, still standing in the frame of the door, barely perceptible.
"Forward!" whispered Trask, surprised. This news meant one of two explanations for what he had seen—the business was legitimate, and under the direction of Jarrow, or Jarrow was involved with the crew in whatever treachery was afoot.
"Yassir," continued Doc. "He's got all hands messin' 'round at somethin'. I reckon the old man he looks for it to come on to blow."
"I see," said Trask. "Well, I'm going out. Maybe I can be of some help. Keep quiet, or you'll wake everybody up."
Doc withdrew from the door, and Trask heard him shuffling to his own room, expressing some opinion in a whisper which Trask could not make out, except that it was to the effect that he hadn't started this "walkin' round like ha'nts in the middle of the night."
Trask went on deck and moved forward boldly. The squall which had passed left the air fresh and cool, and the sky was not so black, although the schooner was still in gloom. But her bulwarks were more clearly defined against the water, and Trask could see a figure on the starboard bow which looked like a man standing and peering in the direction of the island.
"Who's that?" came Jarrow's voice as Trask drew near. His voice was low and cautious.