“All right,” he answered, coolly.
CHAPTER XX.
On reaching the forward cabin, I turned to the table to see if there happened to be a bite of anything to eat upon it. There always had been in days past. In the darkness I could not tell, and I opened the door leading aft to see if I could get a little light from the captain’s room. The creaking of the straining bulkheads blended with the noise from the deck and in the semi-darkness made by Benson’s lamplight streaming through a door well aft, I seemed to hear the voices of the murdered as the shadows moved upon the deck. A figure flitted past me toward the door on the other side, and for a moment I believed I saw a ghost. The next instant I sprang across the deck and seized it.
“Let me go, Mr. Gore. Don’t stop me,” said Miss Waters.
“Good God, are you still alive?” I asked, more for something to say than anything else.
She raised her hand to her head and leaned against the bulkhead, sobbing.
“Yes, I’m alive,” she said, controlling herself, “I was not taught the trade of murder.”
“I didn’t mean that,” I said, hastily, and I drew her to me. As I did so I felt a bandage upon her wrist.
“Are you hurt?” I asked. “Has he injured you by trying to cut you?”