“Aboard a ship.”
“Aboard a ship?”
“Yes.”
“What ship? Where?
“Somewhar’s about here.”
“About here? But what ship?”
“She—she—she—was—she—she was—wa-wa-water-logged.”
At this Ferguson started to his feet, almost leaping in the air as he did so. For a moment he regarded the unhappy Corbet with an expression of mingled horror and incredulity.
“You don’t mean it!” he said, at length.
Captain Corbet sighed.