Five minutes passed, but the captain did not make his appearance. The sound that Miss Temple had heard was beginning to work an ugly fancy in my mind. I stepped aft to the wheel.
‘Did the captain tell you why he was going below?’
‘No, sir,’ was the answer. ‘He’d been standing for about a quarter of an hour stock still; then he comes soddenly in a sort o’ run to the binnacle, takes a look at the card, and says: “Keep her as she goes; nothing off: see to it! I shan’t be long.” That was all.’
At that instant the wind breezed up in a gust that came in a long howl over the weather rail, and the little vessel bowed down to it till the smother alongside looked to be up to the covering-board.
‘No use waiting for the captain,’ said I, made irritable by anxiety; ‘we shall have the masts out of her if we don’t mind our eye;’ and running forward, I shouted at the top of my voice: ‘Lay aft and haul up the mainsail!’
In a moment the watch came tumbling out of the darkness forward. Their manner of rushing gave me to know that they had been standing by for the order to shorten sail, and were wondering why it had not been delivered sooner.
‘Furl it, lads,’ I shouted, ‘when you’ve hauled it up; but first get your maintopgallant staysail hauled down. I must find out what has become of the captain.’
Without losing another moment, I ran into the cuddy and knocked upon the door of the captain’s cabin. No answer was returned. I knocked again, thundering with my fist; then tried the handle, and found the door locked. ‘Good God!’ thought I, ‘the man has shot himself. That will be the meaning of the sound Miss Temple heard.’ As I turned for a moment, utterly at a loss how to act, the girl rose through the hatch close to where I stood. She held in her hand the lantern I had left alight in my berth.
‘What has happened?’ she cried.
‘I have no notion as yet,’ I responded; ‘but I fear the captain has shot himself. Let me take that lantern from you.’