"Sure thing," said Warren affably. "You can trust us. We'll keep quiet. If there's anything we can do—"
"But do you really think it's safe?" Peggy asked the second officer in some anxiety. "I mean, poor man, suppose he sees the elephant sitting up on top of the smokestack or something, making faces at him, and orders one of you to go and coax it down…
"Smell my breath!" cried the captain passionately. "Smell my breath, blast you; that's all I ask. I tell you I have not taken one single scarlet drink since five o'clock this evening."
"Look here," said the ship's doctor, who had been kneeling beside the anguished commander, "you people be sensible. He's not — upset. He's quite all right, Baldwin. There's something very queer going on here. Steady on, sir; we'll have you feeling top-notch in a moment… We can get you up to your room without anybody seeing you, you know… No?" Evidently Captain whistler's soul shrank from encountering passengers or crew at that instant. "Well, then, there's a recess forward here on the leeward side, with some tables and chairs. If Mr. Baldwin will hold the flashlight I've got my bag… "
This, Morgan felt, was the psychological moment for a retreat. The real object in remaining so long had been to ascertain definitely whether Captain Whistler had recognised his assailant. And it seemed they were safe. But he felt that suspicion was growing in the air. The doctor's sharp words had roused the first officer, who now seemed uneasy, and glanced several times at them. Doctor and officer were hoisting up their commander…
"Wait a minute!" shouted Whistler, as there began to be a general melting-away of spectators. The good eye glared. "Hold on, there, you, whoever you are! You thought I was drunk, did you? Well, I'll show you! I want to ask you a lot of questions in a very few minutes. Stop where you are. I'll show you how drunk—"
"But look here, Captain," protested Warren, "we're wet through! We'll stay, if you like, but let this young lady go back to her cabin — to get a coat, anyway. She hasn't got a coat! There's no reason why she should stay, is there? None of us can run away and—"
"You'll tell me what to do, will you?" said the captain, his chest swelling. "You'll give orders aboard my ship, will you? Haa! Strike me blind! There! Now just for that, my lad, you'll all stop exactly where you are; you won't move as much as a fraction of an inch from where you are, or sink me! I'll put the whole crew of you under arrest! Sink me! I'll put everybody under arrest, that's what I'll do. And when I find the so-and-so who hit me with a bottle and stole that emerald—"
"Don't!" Morgan said to Warren in a fierce whisper, as he saw the other lowering his head curiously and shutting up one eye as he regarded Captain Whistler, "for the love of God don't say anything, Curt! In another minute he'll be making us walk the plank. Steady."
"You won't move," pursued Captain Whistler wildly, lifting up his hands, squinting at them, and holding them a fraction of an inch apart before his face, "you won't move so much as that distance from where you are. You won't even move that far. You won't stir. You won't— Who was that who spoke?" he broke off to demand. "Who's there anyway? Who are you? What was that about a coat? Who had the nerve to ask me something about a blasted coat, eh?"
"My name's Warren, Captain. Curtis Warren. You know me. I hope you don't think I'm the crook you're after?"
Whistler stopped, stared, and seemed tumultuously to reflect.
"Ah!" he said in a curious tone. "Warren, hey? Warren. Well, well! And who is with you?" When three voices spoke up simultaneously he took on a grim but rather nervous tone. "Stay where you are now! Don't move… Mr. Baldwin, you watch them. I mean, watch him. You've been wandering round the boat, have you, Mr. Warren? And what's that on your head? Come into the light. Sticking plaster. Oh, yes. You hurt your head… "
Warren made a gesture. "Yes, I did. And that's what I want to tell you. If you won't let us go, at least send somebody back to my cabin. Send the doctor, you old fool! You're all right. Send the doctor, I tell you. There's a young girl back there — unconscious — maybe dead — I don't know. Have some sense, can't you? She's been hit over the head and knocked unconscious… "
"What?"
"Yes. Somebody cracked her over the head and then—"
Between them, the doctor and the second officer got the captain away to a sheltered recess, where he did not stop talking. He would hear of nothing, not a step or a movement. He insisted that the four conspirators should remain within reach of the eye of Mr. Baldwin, who was holding up the flashlight for the repair-work. So they huddled against a glass front that was stung with whips of rain; Warren took off his coat and wrapped it round the girl, and they took whispered communion.
"Listen," said Morgan, peering over his shoulder to make sure they were out of earshot. "We're going to be jolly lucky if we don't get shoved in the brig. Scuttle my hatches, the old man's raving. He's insane, and you don't want to cross him. What fathead dropped that whisky-bottle beside him, anyway?"
"Ay did," replied Captain Valvick, thumping his chest. He beamed proudly. "Ay t'ank dat was a touch of yenius, eh? What iss wrong? Dere wass no more whisky in it, honest. Eh, eh; you t'ink dere be fingerprints on it, maybe?"
Warren frowned and ran a hand through his goblin hair. "Say, Hank," he muttered uneasily, "that's an idea. If it occurs to the old boy… And there's another thing. Baby, what possessed you to fire that box through the porthole of somebody's cabin?"
She was indignant. "Well, I like that! With those officers coming down on us — you didn't want me to chuck it overboard, did you? Besides, I think it was a splendid idea. It can't be blamed on us, and it won't be blamed on anybody else. I don't know whose cabin that was. But there'll be a hunt for the box. And then whoever has the cabin will wake up to-morrow morning and find it on the floor; then he'll take it to the captain and explain it was thrown through the porthole, and there you are."
"Well," said Warren, drawing a deep breath, "all I can say is that we had a piece of luck. I tell you, I damn near died when you did that. I had visions of somebody sticking his head out the porthole just as those officers were coming up, and saying, 'Hey, what's the idea of throwing things through my window?' "
He brooded, staring out through the glass at the murky night ahead, dimly luminous from the glow above on the bridge; at the sharp bows shouldering up ill mist; at the white torrent that poured, swirled, and fell away round stubborn winches. From far above smote the clang of the liner's bell—one-two, one-two, one-two—that is the drowsiest of sea noises by night. The wind had a flat whine now; it was dying, and rain had ceased to tick on the glass. Stately as a galleon, the tall foremast rose, swung, and tilted as the bows smashed down again into a fan of spray…
Warren glared straight ahead.
"I've let you people in for all this," he said in a low voice. "I'm — I'm damned sorry."
"Dat iss de bunk, son," said Captain Valvick. "Ay ain't had so much fun in a long time. De only t'ing, we got to agree on a story dat we are all going to tell… "
"I got you into this," continued Warren doggedly, "and I'm going to get you out. Don't worry about that. You let mc do the talking, and I'll convince him. There's nothing wrong with my diplomatic talents. I very, very seldom go off half-Cocked" — Morgan coughed but the other obviously believed what he was saying, so nobody spoke—"and I'll fix it. All that burns me up—" declared Warren, lifting a heavy fist high and bringing it down on the rail—"all that makes me burn and sizzle with bright murderous flames is that there really is a lousy, low-down, black-jack-using crook aboard this tub, and he's giving us the merry horse laugh right now. Goroo! This was made to order for him. And I'm mad now. I'm good and mad. I'll catch him. I'll get him, if it's the last thing I ever do, and if I have to sit up every night and wait for him to come after that fi—"