SUE--[_Uneasily._] Be sensible, Nat. There’s nothing to tell except in your imagination. [_Taking his arm--persuasively._] Come on downstairs. I’ll get you something to eat. You must be starved, aren’t you? NAT--No--I don’t know--I suppose I ought to be. [_He gets to his feet and glances around with a shudder._] What a place for him to build to wait in--like the cabin of a ship sunk deep under the sea--like the Sarah Allen’s cabin as it is now, probably. [_With a shiver._] There’s a chill comes over you. No wonder he’s mad. [_He listens._] Hear him. A year ago today she sailed. I wonder if he knows that. Back and forth, always staring out to sea for the Sarah Allen. Ha-ha! God! It would be funny if it didn’t make your flesh creep. [_Brusquely._] Come on. Let’s leave him and go down where there’s light and warmth. [_They go down the stairs, closing the door behind them. There is a pause. Then the door of the companionway above is heard being opened and shut. A gust of wind sweeps down into the room._ BARTLETT _stamps down the stairs. The madness which has taken almost complete possession of him in the past year is clearly stamped on his face, particularly in his eyes which seem to stare through and beyond objects with a hunted, haunted expression. His movements suggest an automaton obeying invisible wires. They are quick, jerky, spasmodic. He appears to be laboring under a state of extraordinary excitement. He stands for a second at the foot of the stairs, peering about him suspiciously. Then he goes to the table and sits down on the edge of a chair, his chin supported on his hands._]