Not until then did the unhappy secretary realize what had transpired, or why he had been sent for. Comprehending the drift of things at Harcourt's words, transfixed by his master's gloomy eye, poor Jenson shrank back, trembling, an agony of fear in his livid features.
"I—I never had it!" he cried in a strangled voice. "Heir Doctor—gentlemen—I swear before God and the Virgin—I never had the thing, never saw it——"
"Don't cry before you're hurt, Jenson," said Harcourt coldly. "Then you deny having had the knife in your possession, eh?"
"Yes! My God, yes!" With a sudden snarl that brought out his rat-like teeth he whirled on Hammer, "It's you who framed this thing up—you always hated me; you accused me of doing it in the first place——"
"Shut up!" The heavy voice of Krausz silenced his frenzied words. "Captain Harcourt, you are in command here; but if you please I would like a word to say, yess?"
"Certainly, doctor."
"Then I can witness that thiss man, Adolf Jenson, wass with me from the time I went to my cabin after mess until five minutes before I wass called up here. Also, I left the dining-saloon before Schlak did. If poor Schlak wass killed after then thiss must surely absolve Jenson."
"It would certainly seem to, by Jove!" exclaimed Harcourt, frankly puzzled. "Mr. Solomon, kindly explain to us why you denied all knowledge of the knife when we first asked you about it. Do you stick to that denial?"
"No, sir," and the wide blue eyes, which had rested on Jenson with a wondering look, shifted to Harcourt. "You see, sir, I don't carry weapons, not as a rule. Everything in its place, I says, and a supercargo 'e don't rightly 'ave no use for knives. When so be as I wants a knife I gets one from the steward, or borries one anywhere. It may be werry well be as the bos'n says——"
"Then why did you deny it in the first place?" shot out Harcourt sternly.