"Bed, Martin—your bed!" Here he caught his breath and rose up and stood looking down at me betwixt narrowed lids and a-pinching at his square chin.
"Aye—there, Adam, the only place in the ship you never thought to search—there he lay safe hid and I above him in a drugged sleep!"
"Drugged!" says Adam, betwixt shut teeth. "Aye ... drugged ... crass fool it was not to ha' guessed it ere this." And now he falls silent and stands very still, only his sinewy fingers pinched and pinched at his chin as he stared blindly down at the floor. So now I told him of my fevered dreams and black imaginations, of my growing fears and suspicions, of the eye had watched me through the knot-hole and of the man on the river with the boat wherein was the great mis-shapen bundle which had vanished just after the black ship ran foul of us.
"Lord!" says Adam at last. "So the mystery is resolved! The matter lies plain as a pikestaff. Ha, Martin, we've shipped the devil aboard it seems!"
"Who weareth a steel hook, Adam!"
"And yet, Martin, and yet," says he, looking at me from the corners of his eyes, "herein, if we seek far enough, we may find the hand of Providence, I think—"
"How?" says I. "Providence, d'ye call it?"
"Aye, Martin—if we do but seek far enough!" Here he turned in answer to a furtive rapping, and opening the door, I heard Godby's voice. "Come in, man, come in," says Adam, "here's only Martin."
"Aye," quoth I heartily, "come in, God-be-here Jenkins that was my friend." At this in he comes unwillingly enough and with never so much as a glance in my direction.
"Here's the wittles, Cap'n," says he, and setting down the food and drink he had brought, turned away.