“Yes.”
“I am coming out.”
“If you please—I should prefer—may I come into your cabin?”
“Come in.”
He entered, and shut the door behind him.
Without rising I signed to him to seat himself in the arm-chair, but he remained standing.
“What do you want of me, Dirk Peters?” I asked at length, as he seemed unable to make up his mind to speak.
“I want to tell you something—because it seems well that you should know it, and you only. In the crew—they must never know it.”
“If it is a grave matter, and you fear any indiscretion, Dirk Peters, why do you speak to me?”
“If!—I must! Ah, yes! I must! It is impossible to keep it there! It weighs on me like a stone.”