“You know that is a lie,” Vail was saying.  “She is faithful to you, as far as I know, although I’m damned if I know why.”  He turned to the mate roughly:  “Better get out in the air.”

Once again I left my window to avoid discovery.  The mate, walking slowly, made his way up the companionway to the rail.  The man at the wheel reported in the forecastle, when he came down at the end of his watch, that Singleton had seemed dazed, and had stood leaning against the rail for some time, occasionally cursing to himself; that the second mate had come on deck, and had sent him to bed; and that the captain was shut in his cabin with the light going.

There was much discussion of the incident among the crew.  Sympathy was with the captain, and there was a general feeling that the end had not come.  Charlie Jones, reading his Bible on the edge of his bunk, voiced the general belief.

“Knowin’ the Turners, hull and mast,” he said, “and having sailed with Captain Richardson off and on for ten years, the chances is good of our having a hell of a time.  It ain’t natural, anyhow, this voyage with no rats in the hold, and all the insects killed with this here formaldehyde, and ice-cream sent to the fo’c’sle on Sundays!”

But at first the thing seemed smoothed over.  It is true that the captain did not speak to the first mate except when compelled to, and that Turner and the captain ignored each other elaborately.  The cruise went on without event.  There was no attempt on Turner’s part to carry out his threat of the night before; nor did he, as the crew had prophesied, order the Ella into the nearest port.  He kept much to himself, spending whole days below, with Williams carrying him highballs, always appearing at dinner, however, sodden of face but immaculately dressed, and eating little or nothing.

A week went by in this fashion, luring us all to security.  I was still lean but fairly strong again.  Vail, left to himself or to the women of the party, took to talking with me now and then.  I thought he was uneasy.  More than once he expressed a regret that he had taken the cruise, laying his discontent to the long inaction.  But the real reason was Turner’s jealousy of him, the obsession of the dipsomaniac.  I knew it, and Vail knew that I knew.

On the 8th we encountered bad weather, the first wind of the cruise.  All hands were required for tacking, and I was stationed on the forecastle-head with one other man.  Williams, the butler, succumbed to the weather, and at five o’clock Miss Lee made her way forward through the driving rain, and asked me if I could take his place.

“If the captain needs you, we can manage,” she said.  “We have Henrietta and Karen, the two maids.  But Mr. Turner prefers a man to serve.”

I said that I was probably not so useful that I could not be spared, and that I would try.  Vail’s suggestion had come back to me, and this was my chance to get Williams’s keys.  Miss Lee having spoken to the captain, I was relieved from duty, and went aft with her.  What with the plunging of the vessel and the slippery decks, she almost fell twice, and each time I caught her.