"Yes, dear."
"The captain wishes to see me. I'll be back directly." He stepped out into the corridor, hesitated, excused himself to the officer, and returned to Karen, closing the door and locking it.
She was sitting up on the bed, very still and white, and when he came over to her she instinctively laid both chilled hands in his. He held them in a firm and reassuring clasp; but he was terribly disconcerted.
"Listen, dear. I think a British officer is coming aboard for us. I don't know whether he has any right to take us off this ship, but I'm afraid that the law in the matter won't worry him.
"Now listen to me, dear. If I come back and knock and call to you by name, open. If somebody knocks, and there is no voice—or if it is not my voice, go to that port, open it, untie your satchel, which is hanging outside at a rope's end, take out the papers, and drop them into the sea. And not until you have done this shall you open the door to anybody."
"Yes, Kervyn."
"Then," he said, "if we've got to go back to England on a warship, we'll go clean-handed."
"And you had better take these passports, too." He drew them from his breast pocket. "They're forged. Throw them out with the other papers."
"Yes, I will."