"Sorry, old fellow, but I just don't dare try it" said Nichols decisively, throwing into the words all the power of his normality "You must remember that I have the ship on my hands"
Devereux regarded him sourly, in a sort of hostile dejection. His case throughout was marked by a singular docility, as if all things assumed an illogical aspect to him, and were to be met by circumlocutory methods. "Well, I suppose your word is law" he allowed "But its damned hard on me. I've waited a good many years, Nichols, for this night" Without deigning to discuss the matter further, he went off down the companion like a sulky child. Following him a few moments later to reconnoitre, I found the door of his stateroom tightly closed.
He didn't appear at the supper table; as the evening passed it seemed evident that he wasn't coming out again. We began to have hope of getting through the night without another painful scene. When I looked into his room after supper and found him sound asleep in the bunk, it seemed too good to be true. Nichols at once tacked ship again, and we stood back toward Sibutu Passage.
Our plan for slipping through under cover of the darkness, however, had failed to reckon with the moonlight; that both of us had forgotten it is a good indication of the state of our minds. For the night, when it settled down, was positively radiant. A great soft moon hung high in the heavens, flooding the sea with a subdued glare, and revealing every detail of the land as we came abreast of the point of the island shortly after midnight. Sleep was out of the question. Nichols, of course, had to navigate the ship through the intricate passage. Thus it became my duty to run below every little while, keeping a watch on Devereux's door. But no sound or movement came from the closed room.
We had already forged past the main point of the island, which lay abaft the lee beam, less than half a mile distant, when I started on this errand for the last time. Going down the companion, I was struck by an uneasy feeling, and found myself hurrying through the entry. When I reached the cabin, Devereux's door stood open, a black hole in the dim light of the swinging lamp above the chart table. A glance into the room showed me that he was no longer in the bunk. I ran to the forward cabin door, but seeing no one out there, turned and jumped up the after companion on the dead run.
"Have you seen Mr Devereux come on deck?" I cried to the helmsman.
"No, sir"
Nichols, at the stern rail, had heard my question, and ran forward to meet me. "Isn't he in his room?" he asked.
"No. I can't find him anywhere in the cabin. Must have gone up the forward companion"
Together we hurried forward along the weather alley. Reaching the corner of the house, where the main deck opened before us, we made out two men standing to leeward of the mainmast, apparently in earnest conversation. One seemed eager, excited; the other was evidently on the defensive. Devereux and the mate, we saw the next instant. It crossed my mind that the mate was ignorant of the intimate details of Devereux's malady; he wasn't the sort of fellow to take into confidential relations.