“Well, then,” he cried, throwing open the opposite door which gave entrance to the cabin directly under the broken skylight, “look in there!”
It was fortunate that I had a steady nerve and was not easily frightened, for the sight that met my gaze would have startled most grown-up persons, let alone one of my age!
The place was in as great confusion as the open deck above, the sea having worked its ravages here as well as there and littered it with lumber of every description, which the water that had likewise gained admittance was washing about the floor, in company with the overturned tables and chairs.
Broken plates and dishes were mixed up with stray articles of clothing; while books and empty bottles, which, strangely whole, bobbed up and down amidst the general ruin, floated in and out between the heavier dunnage.
I noticed even a mandoline, with a blue riband attached to it cruising round the bottles; which seemed quite out of its latitude there! But, this was not all.
There was a strange, sickly smell in the room; and what was that looking up at me from the rubbish-strewn deck close to where I stood by the cabin door?
I almost shrieked out as it caught my wandering glance, the eyes seeming to look right into mine, opened wide in one fixed stare.
It was the face of a dead woman, over whose marble-like features the water rippled as the ship lurched, tossing her long hair about as if playing with it and giving her the appearance of being alive.
“Poor thing!” I whispered to Mr Jellaby, who was near me and also gazing down at her, the presence of the dead making me drop my voice. “She was drowned, I suppose?”
“Murdered!” he replied laconically, drawing my attention to a terrible cut across her neck, which I had not observed before, almost severing the head from the body. “Look there—and there, Vernon!”