Possibly, even now, I was under surveillance.  The negro had left the cabin, I knew, but where was Herman?  Broussard was in charge of the deck, and hence this would be the first mate’s watch below.  Impressed with this disconcerting thought, I emerged again into the main cabin.  The stateroom doors were all closed, and I had to guess which was the German’s.  I was sure, however, that Broussard occupied the first on the port side; I had heard him open that door while talking to the steward, and it was highly probable the first mate had the apartment opposite.  Judging from the position of the doors these would be larger than the other staterooms, and, if Herman was the real navigator of the boat, he would require good quarters.  I listened at the door, but heard nothing; then, rendered desperate by the delay, tried the knob cautiously.  The door was unlocked, opening noiselessly.  A glance convinced me the room was unoccupied, and I stepped inside, gazing about in surprise.  It was nearly twice the size of my own apartment, containing a wide single berth, several comfortable upholstered chairs, and a large desk, on which stood a sextant, besides several charts, one unrolled.  To my left, close against the side of the vessel was a narrow door standing ajar, and through the opening I caught sight of a porcelain bath tub.

Instantly my mind leaped to a conclusion—­the first mate was not on board; he was ashore with the boat party, and that beast Henley, was entirely alone.  He had taken advantage of the opportunity.  But what in God’s name could I do!  If I broke down the door into his cabin, the noise would be heard on deck, and besides, the fellow was armed.  The only result of such an effort would be my own imprisonment, leaving her in more helpless stress than before.  Without knowing why, I stepped around the desk, and peered into the bathroom.  It was small, but perfect in arrangement, and, to my surprise, revealed a second door.  In an instant I understood—­this was not Herman’s private bath, but was also used by the Captain; that second door led to the after-cabin.  I was there in two strides, my ear at the crack listening.  Nothing reached me but the murmur of a voice, the words indistinguishable, yet this was sufficient to convince me that I was on the right trail.  The two were together, and here was an opportunity for me to reach them unobserved.  Slowly, using every precaution to avoid noise, I turned the knob, and opened the intervening door a scant inch.  I could hear the voice now plainly, but my view was blocked by a heavy curtain.  Breathless, I drew a fold aside, and caught a glimpse of the interior.

Neither occupant was facing in my direction, and both were too deeply interested to observe.  Besides, the possibility of intrusion was not in their minds.  Henley stood beside his desk, the same sneering smile I had learned to hate, curling his lips, his eyes on her face in a gaze that was insult.  The girl, evidently retreating before him, alarmed by some word he had uttered, or by his approach, had reached the door, and grasped the knob.  The expression on her face told me she had discovered it locked, herself a prisoner, and that she had turned in desperation.  Her first, swift, unrestraining speech gave me full understanding of her despair.