"It doesn't appeal to me in that light. There was a miscalculation about the water. Why not about the food?"
"Because my father went through all the stores personally and portioned them out. Some flour and tinned meat have gone; I am quite sure of it. The question is—who can have taken them. The flour, at least, must have attracted attention if anybody tried to eat it."
"Did you say all that to the purser?" he asked, suspending his labors and looking at her steadily.
"No. We could not remember exactly what proportion of the various articles there ought to be left."
"Then take my advice, Miss Constance, and keep on forgetting," he said.
A quick flush came into her pale cheeks.
"You are not saying that without good cause?" she murmured.
"I have the best of reasons. If the least hint of such a thing goes round among the men there will be ructions."
Constance went to the door and closed it.
"Enid," she said, "I believe father and Mr. Pyne have got some dreadful plan in their minds which they dare not tell us about."