But Martin was, in fact, a little bit impressed by the old sailmaker's earnest conviction. As he laced his shoes, a little superstitious thrill tingled along his spine at the thought of It plucking Little Billy from the deck and carrying him into the dark depths of the brooding mountain.
But that was nonsense, he immediately reflected, half angry with himself. By George! If he allowed that confounded volcano to affect him so, he would soon be as bad as old Sails! Still, he had better go on deck and take a look at Little Billy, and satisfy the old man. His watch was soon, anyway.
Martin was recalling the hunchback's nervousness a few hours previous; Little Billy was wrestling John Barleycorn. If he had disappeared as the sailmaker claimed, he had probably lost the bout and would be found in drunken sleep. There was whisky in the medicine-chest—no, he had the keys. Well, then the alcohol in the boatswain's locker.
"Was there anything unusual about Little Billy's manner when you saw him at one bell?" he asked MacLean.
"No, lad. I ken your thought," replied the other. "He'd no had a drop, though he was jumpy as a cat."
Martin was taken aback by Sails' shrewd guess. He tiptoed to the door.
"Come on," he whispered to Sails. "Don't make any noise. We don't want to disturb the others until we make sure Little Billy isn't on the job."
They stepped into the cabin, and Martin's first glance was toward the medicine-chest. It had not been disturbed. They went forward, through the cabin alleyway, toward the main deck. The boatswain's room opened off here.
Martin opened the door, half expecting to see the hunchback chatting with his bosom friend. But the room was dark, and the red giant was sleeping noisily. Then they opened the door at the end of the alleyway and stepped out on deck, Martin softly closing the door behind him.
Abruptly, Martin found himself isolated in a sea of murk. At that hour, the sun had dipped for its brief concealment beneath the horizon, and the fog, which had been a gray-brown curtain in daylight, was now an all-enshrouding cloak of blackness that rendered eyesight useless.