"The case is empty, but I've not made up my mind yet that the stone's missing."
"The man's an officer and a gentleman."
"I know, I know!" he interrupted, "but still, in my opinion, the stone's not missing. The long and short of it is," he said, after a very short pause, with a careful glance at the skylight and companion hatch, "his behaviour isn't convincing enough. Something's wanting in his passion and his vexation."
"Sincerity!"
"Ah! I don't intend that this business shall trouble me. He angrily required me to search the ship for stowaways. Bosh! The second mate and steward have repeatedly overhauled the lazarette: there's nobody there."
"And if not there, then nowhere else," said I. "Perhaps he's got the forepeak in his head."
"I'll not have a hatch lifted," he exclaimed, warmly, "nor will I allow the crew to be troubled. There's been no theft. Put it that the stone is stolen. Who's going to find it in a forecastle full of men—a thing as big as half a bean perhaps? If it's gone, it's gone, indeed, whoever may have it. But there's no go in this matter at all," he added, with a short, nervous laugh.
We were talking in this fashion when the Major joined us; his features were now composed. He gazed sternly at the captain and said, loftily:—
"What steps are you prepared to take in this matter?"
"None, sir."