“I don’t think you’ll find it. I expect it’s gone.”
It did seem to have gone. Or perhaps my sudden dizziness prevented my seeing so small an object in the imperfect light. I certainly did feel strangely giddy. So overpowered was I by most unusual sensations that, yielding the £50,000 horror into Mr. Batters’ outstretched hand, almost before I knew I found myself on the other side of the cabin door.
I staggered up on deck. The night air did me good. I drew great breaths. The giddiness passed. I began to ask myself what could have caused it. Had Mr. Batters been practising a little hocus pocus? Playing up to the part of the Great Joss? If I had been sure, I would have put the ship about right there and then. Back he should have gone, to play the part out to the end.
Luke hailed me.
“Beggin’ pardon, captain, but may I go below? Mine’s the next watch. I should like a wink of sleep.”
“You may. A word with you before you go. You got me into this business. I’m not sure I thank you. What do you know about this man Batters?”
He looked up at the stars, as if for an answer to my question.
“Him and me was boys together.”
“And since?”
“We’ve come across each other once or twice. But it’s half a lifetime since we met.”