"I must trouble you to show me your list of passengers and crew, and to muster the men on deck. But first I must ask you, Did any of your boats return on board late?"
"No," the captain replied. "Our last boat was hauled up to the davits at half-past nine. There was a heavy day's work before the men to-day, and I therefore refused leave on shore."
The men were ordered to be mustered, and while they were collecting the second-mate went round the ship with the officials, and they saw that no one was below in his berth. The men's names were called over from the list, and the officials satisfied that all were present and in good health.
"Now for the passengers," he said
"I cannot ask them to muster," the captain observed, "but I will walk round with you and point out those on the list. There are some eight or ten on shore. They will doubtless be off to lunch; and if you leave an officer on board he will see that they are by no means the sort of people to take part in such an affair as that which has happened on shore."
The officials went round the deck, but saw nothing whatever to excite their suspicion. Marion Renshaw was laughing and talking with Mr. Atherton, Miss Mitford walking up and down the poop in conversation with James Allen. After they had finished their investigations, the officials left one of their party to inspect the remaining passengers as they came on board, and to check them off the list. They then again took their seats in the galley and were rowed to the next ship.
By dint of great exertions the cargo was got out by sunset, the sails were at once loosened and the anchor weighed, and before the short twilight had faded away the Flying Scud was making her way with a gentle breeze towards the mouth of the harbour.
"We are well out of that," Mr. Atherton said as he looked back at the lights of the city.
"I think you are very well out of it indeed, in more senses than one," said the surgeon, who was standing next to him; "but you have had a wonderfully close shave of it, Mr. Atherton. Another inch and either of those blows might have been fatal. Besides, had you been detained for a month or six weeks, it is as likely as not that, what with the heat and what with the annoyance, your wound would have taken a bad turn. Now, you must let me exercise my authority and order you to your berth immediately. You ought not to have been out of it. Of the two evils, getting up and detention, I chose the least; but I should be glad now if you would go off at once. If you do not, I can assure you I may have you on my hands all the rest of the voyage."
"I will obey orders, doctor. The more willingly because for the last hour or two my back has been smarting unmercifully. I do not feel the other wound much."