“You mean Duval?”
“Yes. If I can be of any help at all just let me know. Tell Evans that, will you? I feel sure that nothing happened for which any of you could be held responsible.” Having said this, the Major joined the Chaplain and Hodges.
Martin sat down. He knew what the Major thought. He knew what some of the crew thought, too: that Bervick had had something to do with Duval’s death. No one would say anything about it, of course. The crew would be loyal to Bervick. Evans would pretend that the thought had never occurred to him. Of the passengers only the Major appeared to suspect anything. The Chaplain would never think of it. Hodges might.
“When are we docking?” asked Hodges.
“Around an hour or so.”
“Isn’t that marvellous,” exclaimed Chaplain O’Mahoney. “I’m sorry,” he added quickly. “We’ve all appreciated what you’ve done.”
“I know how you feel,” said Martin. “It’s too bad we had to have so much excitement.”
“That,” said the Chaplain, “is life.” There was no answer to this. Martin went into the galley and watched Smitty fixing supper.
“We going to Seward next, Mate?” asked Smitty.
“Some place like that. We’ll have to go to drydock somewhere.”