Enid made an effort to steady herself. She gripped her friend’s hand tightly as she began her story.
“Father and I were alone last night here. We had given the three sailors and our cook forty-eight hours shore leave, for we had decided not to sail until tomorrow morning. Father had gone to his cabin to read. I idled about the deck for an hour or so. It was after eleven when I finally went to bed.” She paused and seemed to lose herself in unpleasant thoughts.
“Go on,” Madge urged gently.
“It was sometime later—I’m not just sure what time it was, when I was awakened. I heard a boat grate against the side of the yacht and then someone called out. Father answered but I couldn’t make out what he said. However, I gathered that some men wanted to speak to him in the cabin.”
“You don’t know who they were?”
“No, they must have given their names, but I couldn’t hear well enough through the porthole. At any rate, they seemed to have convinced Father that they were all right, for after some discussion, he permitted them to come aboard.
“I don’t know why I didn’t go back to sleep. I had a queer feeling that I can’t explain. I sensed that something was wrong. After a minute or so I got up and opened the door. I couldn’t hear a sound in Father’s cabin. I decided to dress.”
“You turned on the light?” Madge inquired.
“No, I didn’t, and I made as little noise as possible, although up until then I really had no reason to be afraid. It was just a feeling—”
“I understand. Then what happened?”