"The winged words made no impression on their mark. Wilbur met Lee Fu's glance frankly, innocently, with interest and even with a trace of amusement at the other's flight of fancy. The full light of the lamp illuminated his features, the least fleeting expression couldn't have escaped us. By Jove, he was superb; the damned rascal hadn't a nerve in his body. To be sure, he still had no suspicion, and attributed Lee Fu's shaft to a mere chance; yet this very factor of safety lent additional point to the finish of his dissimulation. He might at least have indulged himself in a start, a glance, a knitting of the eyebrows; his conscience, or his memory if he hadn't a conscience, might have received a faint surprise. But his watchfulness must have been unfailing, automatic. Or was it that a reminder of his appalling crime woke no echo at all in his breast?
"I examined him closely. Above a trimmed brown beard his cheeks showed the ruddy colour of health and energy; his eyes were steady, his mouth was strong and clean, a head of fine grey hair surmounted a high forehead; the whole aspect of his countenance was pleasing and dignified. He had good hands, broad yet closely knit, and ruddy with the same glow of health that rose in his face. He was dressed neatly in a plain blue serge suit, with square-toed russet shoes encasing small feet, a dark bow-tie at his throat, and a narrow gold watch chain strung across his vest. Sitting at ease, with an arm thrown over the chair-back and one ankle resting on the other knee, he presented a fine figure of a man, a figure that might have been that of a prosperous and benevolent merchant, a man who had passed through the world with merit and integrity, and now was enjoying his just reward.
"He gave a hearty laugh. 'For the Lord's sake, you fellows, come on out of the gloom!' he cried 'A pretty state of mind you seem to have worked yourselves into, hobnobbing here behind closed doors. I drop in for a chat, and find a couple of blue devils up to their ears in the sins of humanity. Nichols, over there, is just as bad as the other; he's scarcely opened his mouth since I came in. What's the matter? ... You have to fight these moods, you know' he quizzed 'It doesn't do to let them get the upper hand'
"'It is the mood of the approaching storm' said Lee Fu quietly 'We have been speaking of typhoons, and of the fate that they sometimes bring to men'
"A fiercer squall than the last shook the building; it passed in a moment, ceasing suddenly, as if dropping us somewhere in mid-air. Wilbur was the first to speak after the uproar.
"'Yes, it's going to be another terror, I'm afraid. A bad night to be on the water, gentlemen. I shouldn't care to be threshing around outside, now, as poor Turner was such a short time ago'
"I could have struck him across the mouth for the shocking callousness of the words. A bad night outside! He dared to speak of it; he, sitting there so comfortably, so correctly, alive and well, glad to be safe in port and sorry for those afloat—the same remorseless devil who had sent Turner to his doom.
"Lee Fu's voice fell like oil on a breaking sea. 'All signs point to another severe typhoon. But, as I was telling Captain Nichols, these late storms are often irregular—like the early ones.... It happened, Captain Wilbur, that the loss of the Speedwell was the subject we were discussing when you came in'
"'Too bad—too bad' said Wilbur soberly, as if overcome by thoughts of the disaster 'You were away, Nichols, weren't you? Of course!—then you've just heard of it. It was a bad week here, I can tell you, after the news came in. I shall never forget it.... Well, we take our chances....'
"'Some of us do, and some of us don't' I snapped.