I walked towards him, for the light that streamed in by the open hatchway sufficed to reveal him.
"Anything wrong with you?" said I casually.
"Well, I could do with a bit more light and a smoke, sir," said the man, respectfully cheerful. But it was not his words; it was his action that arrested me, for he jerked his thumb incessantly as he spoke towards the darker recesses of the hold.
"All right, my man," said I. "I'll speak to Mr. Holgate. He oughtn't to keep you in such close confinement if you are to remain human beings."
So saying, I waded into the deeper shadows, and as I did I felt my hand seized and dragged downwards.
"S-s-s-h!" said a very still voice, and I obeyed.
What was it? I was drawn downward, and at last I knelt. I knew now, and somehow my heart leaped within me. I had never really understood Legrand; I had taken him for a very ordinary ship's officer; but I had come slowly to another conclusion. I bent down.
"Heart pretty bad," I said in a mechanical way.
"There's only one way out," whispered a voice below me, "and that's through the bulkheads into the engine-room. I've been waiting, and I think I can do it."
"I don't like the look of the eyes," I remarked indifferently. "Does he eat well?"