What in the name of wonder was this? I paused, looked down the corridor towards Legrand, and reflected. Then I took it in at a guess, and I resolved to see him.
"Where?" I asked, in a voice so modulated that it did not reach Legrand.
"Here—the promenade," came back the reply.
I whistled softly, but made no answer. Then I walked away.
"Legrand," said I, "I'm going for a turn. I've got an idea."
"Don't let your idea get you," said he bluffly.
I assured him that I was particular about my personal safety, and with his assistance the door was opened behind the barricade. For the first time for two days I found myself on the deck and in the open air. Hastily glancing about me to make sure that no mutineers were in the neighbourhood, I walked to the foot of the ladder that gave access to the promenade-deck above and quickly clambered to the top. At first I could see no sign of Holgate, and then a head emerged from behind the raised skylights and he beckoned to me.
"Sit here, doctor," said he. "You'll be safe here. No harm shall come to you."
He indicated a seat under cover of one of the extra boats which was swung inside the promenade-deck for use in the event of emergencies, and he himself set me the example of sitting.
"I suppose you've come armed," he said. I tapped my breast-pocket significantly.