Twice that streak of light seemed to die away in obscurity, and twice the shadow of a foot seemed to darken it.
Were Rose or Ethel stirring?
He listened, but all remained still there, till suddenly a gasping sob, a wild, half-stifled cry, and then the sound as of something or some one falling heavily on the cabin floor, made him leap up as with a shock of electricity, and spring towards their door.
Either it was fastened within, or his trembling fingers failed in strength when most he needed it.
Fully a minute elapsed ere he and Tom Bartelot forced open the door, and they all crowded in, to find the little cabin quite dark.
"A light—a light! for Heaven's sake!" cried Morley.
"Oh, what new horror, what new calamity is this?" added Mr. Basset, wringing his hands, as Captain Phillips brought the candle from the tin sconce in the outer cabin.
Half disrobed for the night, as they were never completely undressed now, Rose Basset lay on the floor on her face in a swoon. Nance Folgate, beside herself with terror, was coiled up among the blankets of her berth, speechless or incoherent—otherwise the little cabin was empty, for Ethel was no longer there!
The Bible from which she had been reading overnight lay upon the floor, crushed and bruised, as if by a heavy foot. Close by it was a black and gold-coloured Indian shawl, which she had worn over her shoulders; but no other trace remained in that little cabin of Ethel Basset, who seemed to have been strangely and mysteriously spirited out of it.
Morley felt stunned, and felt also how immeasurably all imagination and anticipation were unequal to portray the horror of such a shock as this!