“Where are you sleeping to-night?”
“At the Sailors’ Home, sir.”
“Very good, Huskisson, now sit down and eat an ice with me and tell me of Captain Cary’s death.”
Huskisson sat down and began to cry.
“Avast heaving, with the tears, Huskisson,” Sard said kindly. “Tears won’t help anybody. Just take your time. Eat your ice and then we will walk to your Sailors’ Home and you shall tell me everything as we go.”
This is Huskisson’s story:
“After Captain Cary left you ashore in Las Palomas, sir, he waited for you a long time. He wanted to be sailing, for it was looking very black and he was anxious for the ship. After an hour or so, he sent Mr. Dorney ashore to look for you. Mr. Dorney didn’t come back till after eight. He said he’d been out to a house for you and that you’d started back by another way before he got there. Captain Cary was upset by that. He said he hoped you hadn’t got into any trouble. He said to Mr. Hopkins, ‘I don’t like staying any longer. The ship’s not safe here in a norther and the glass is dropping like a stone. Still I must leave word about Mr. Harker.’ So he sent the boat in again to leave word at the police about you, sir. The swell was setting in very heavy indeed when we went ashore, but coming back we were very nearly swamped. When we got back, Captain Cary said that there was nothing for it but to leave you ashore. He was very much upset about it, sir. He said, ‘I wish I had not let him go, but I felt it my duty at the time.’ And that padre fellow, Father Garsinton, the passenger, said, ‘Whatever one feels to be one’s duty, is right, depend upon that, Captain Cary.’ Captain Cary said, ‘I’m not so sure, sir,’ and told Mr. Hopkins to man the windlass.
“We were well out of Las Palomas, sir. We were the last to run for it, all except the Mondovo, and we heard since that she drove ashore.
“It was after the sea had gone down, when we were well clear of the Serranas, that the trouble began.
“It began the third day out, just when everything seemed settled in for a quick run. It began with quite a little thing, sir. The geraniums in the cabin were all found withering. They all died within a few hours: Captain Cary thought that the steward had given them salt water by mistake. Well, that passed over, sir, and we thought no more of it. But then, the next day, there was something wrong with one of his canaries; something the matter with its throat. The steward said he thought it must have the pip. It kept straining with its head as though trying to clear its throat. And in the course of the day the others fell ill with the same complaint. Captain Cary supposed that some poisonous seeds had somehow been packed in their bird-seed: anyhow they all died. Mr. Dorney told us that Captain Cary was very much upset at the canaries dying. He had always counted on his geraniums and canaries for a bright cabin, and you know, sir, they had been lovely little singers.