Dinner was out of the question that night for all of us. Karamaneh who had spoken no
word, but, grasping my hands, had looked into my eyes--her own glassy with unshed
tears--and then stolen away to her cabin, had not since reappeared. Seated upon my berth,
I stared unseeingly before me, upon a changed ship, a changed sea and sky upon another
world. The poor old bishop, my neighbor, had glanced in several times, as he hobbled by,
and his spectacles were unmistakably humid; but even he had vouchsafed no word,
realizing that my sorrow was too deep for such consolation.
When at last I became capable of connected thought, I found myself faced by a big
problem. Should I place the facts of the matter, as I knew them to be, before the captain?
or could I hope to apprehend Fu-Manchu's servant by the methods suggested by my poor
friend? That Smith's death was an accident, I did not believe for a moment; it was
impossible not to link it with the attempt upon Karamaneh. In my misery and doubt, I
determined to take counsel with Dr. Stacey. I stood up, and passed out on to the deck.
Those passengers whom I met on my way to his room regarded me in respectful silence.
By contrast, Stacey's attitude surprised and even annoyed me.
"I'd be prepared to stake all I possess--although it's not much," he said, "that this was not
the work of your hidden enemy."
He blankly refused to give me his reasons for the statement and strongly advised me to
watch and wait but to make no communication to the captain.
At this hour I can look back and savor again something of the profound dejection of that
time. I could not face the passengers; I even avoided Karamaneh and Aziz. I shut myself
in my cabin and sat staring aimlessly into the growing darkness. The steward knocked,
once, inquiring if I needed anything, but I dismissed him abruptly. So I passed the
evening and the greater part of the night.
Those groups of promenaders who passed my door, invariably were discussing my poor
friend's tragic end; but as the night wore on, the deck grew empty, and I sat amid a
silence that in my miserable state I welcomed more than the presence of any friend,
saving only the one whom I should never welcome again.
Since I had not counted the bells, to this day I have only the vaguest idea respecting the
time whereat the next incident occurred which it is my duty to chronicle. Perhaps I was
on the verge of falling asleep, seated there as I was; at any rate, I could scarcely believe
myself awake, when, unheralded by any footsteps to indicate his coming, some one who
seemed to be crouching outside my stateroom, slightly raised himself and peered in
through the porthole--which I had not troubled to close.
