“Who’ll come down with me?” repeated the skipper. “I believe it’s a trick, and that he’ll start up and serve me, but I feel I must go.”
He caught Bill’s eye, and that worthy seaman, after a short tussle with his nerves, shuffled after him. The skipper brushing aside the mate, who sought to detain him, descended first, and entering the cabin stood hesitating, with Bill close behind him.
“Just open the door, Bill,” he said slowly.
“Arter you, sir,” said the well-bred Bill.
The skipper stepped slowly towards it and flung it suddenly open. Then he drew back with a sharp cry and looked nervously about him. The bed was empty.
“Where’s he gone?” whispered the trembling Bill.
“The other made no reply, but in a dazed fashion began to grope about the cabin. It was a small place and soon searched, and the two men sat down and eyed each other in blank amazement.
“Where is he?” said Bill at length.
The skipper shook his head helplessly, and was about to ascribe the mystery to supernatural agencies, when the truth in all its naked simplicity flashed upon him, and he spoke. “It’s the mate,” he said slowly, “the mate and the cook. I see it all now; there’s never been anybody here. It was a little job on the mate’s part to get the ship. If you want to hear a couple o’ rascals sized up, Bill, come on deck.”
And Bill, grinning in anticipation, went.