“I didn’t see or hear anything, Leslie,” Burns said feebly. “I don’t even remember being hit. I felt there was some one behind me. That was all.”
“There had been nothing suspicious earlier in the night?”
He lay thinking. He was still somewhat confused.
“No—I think not. Or—yes, I thought once I saw some one standing by the mainmast—behind it. It wasn’t.”
“How long was Mrs. Johns on deck?”
“Not long.”
“Did she ask you to do something for her?”
Pale as he was, he colored; but he eyed me honestly.
“Yes. Don’t ask me any more, Leslie. It had nothing to do with this.”
“What did she ask you to do?” I persisted remorselessly.