“And if they are seeking evidence, what has that to do with me?”
“Everything, my dear sir, since it may result in a reversal of your positions. But we have beaten about the bush long enough. It’s time we spoke plainly. You are, I am quite sure, the man who stole the diamonds, and swore away another man’s liberty to save your own skin. There must be a good share of the stolen property in your possession. In fact, it is in that little leather bag that you take such care of, that it goes to bed with you at night. Too much valuable property is good for no man. You will therefore fetch that bag out of your berth at once. You will then open it, and spread its contents upon this table, the door being securely fastened against intruders. I shall then choose my share of the plunder as a solatium to my conscience for consenting to associate with a thief.”
“And what if I refuse?”
“Then I shall have you fastened in the remaining spare berth, without giving you a chance to overhaul your baggage. I shall then have you taken ashore at Malta, and formally charged with being an absconded thief; your baggage will be searched, and you know best whether you can afford to refuse my offer of complete protection, on condition that we go shares in the plunder.”
For a few seconds Mr. Torrens did not reply. Then he resigned himself to the inevitable, and, cursing his ill-luck, which left him no peace; cursing his father, who had chosen a scoundrel to convey him out of harm’s way; cursing the captain because he was an avaricious brute; cursing anything and everybody but his own vile self, he proceeded to the berth he had occupied during the time he had been at sea. Thence he soon after emerged, carrying the small bag to which Captain Cochrane had referred.
Meanwhile the latter was smiling with satisfaction, and chuckling at the astuteness which was helping him to enrich himself so easily. When Mr. Torrens left him for a moment he felt no uneasiness concerning the diamonds, for he considered that that worldly-wise young man would not throw the proof of his guilt through the window in preference to sharing it with another.
“He is not fool enough to chuck it away, and if he were so inclined, I am keeping a sharp eye on his berth, and can stop him if he even tries to open the bag before he brings it here.”
So murmured the captain, quite unconscious of the fact that his low-spoken words found an eager listener. Yet so it was, and to explain how this happened a slight description of the cabin of the “Merry Maid” is necessary.
It was a square apartment, lighted from a large skylight in the centre. On either side it was flanked by berths. To the right, at the foot of the companion, was the steward’s pantry. Then came the berth allotted to Mr. Torrens, and those which the officers occupied. Immediately opposite the passenger’s berth was the captain’s room. On either side of the latter were built respectively a small berth for the steward and a bathroom. Another spare berth on this side completed the accommodation.
The steward was evidently a man with an inquisitive turn of mind, for during the conversation just recorded he was kneeling on the top of his bunk, with his ear pressed close to a small orifice in the partition wall. It was an odd coincidence that the steward, who had shipped under the name of “William Trace,” should have a hole at the front of his berth through which he could survey the cabin when desirous of doing so. Still more odd was it that the pantry should also be similarly furnished with means of observation. To prevent undue notice of his own movements, Mr. Trace had furnished his peepholes with small discs of cardboard, with which he covered them when he required a light in his room. The orifices were so small and so cleverly placed as to be almost certain to escape detection, provided the steward was careful.