‘I believe the captain has shot himself. His cabin door is locked, and we have yet to discover that he has committed suicide. The wind freshens, the ship wants watching, and there is nobody to see to her. Will you take charge? I’ll wait for you in the cabin.’ What expression a light cast upon his countenance might have shown my news produced in it I know not; there was a pause in him, as of sulky astonishment, but he said nothing. He mounted the poop ladder; and I entered the cuddy, catching the sound as I did so of the men on the main yard chorusing as they triced up the bunt of the sail, along with a sudden roar from the carpenter to clew up the main-topgallant-sail and furl it. The candle end burning in the lantern made but a wretched light, as you will suppose. Close beside it, in such radiance as it emitted, stood Miss Temple, white as stone, and her eyes wide and luminous with alarm. ‘Is the vessel in danger?’ she asked. ‘Oh dear, no,’ I replied; ‘the breeze has freshened considerably, and the men are shortening sail. But this light is truly abominable. We shall require to be able to see clearly presently.’ And with that I took out the candle and lighted the cabin lamp with it. ‘I have been every moment expecting to see that door open, and _his_ figure creep out!’ said Miss Temple, pointing with a shudder, and without looking, towards the captain’s berth. ‘Do you believe he has shot himself?’ ‘Not a doubt of it. Why should his door be locked? I should know he has destroyed himself without being able to make a guess at his method of doing so, but for your saying that you heard the report of a pistol.’ ‘I assuredly heard it, Mr. Dugdale. I was awake. I have not slept since I lay down. The sound was like the crack of a whip over my head.’ Just then the carpenter roared out some fresh orders. The barque, relieved of her mainsail and topgallant-sail, had recovered from her perilous heel, and was thrashing through it with what seemed a stubborn erectness of spar after the recent wild slope of her masts. The sea was rising, and the vessel was beginning to pitch with some spite in the chopping and smiting shear of her clipper bows, from which the surge recoiled in thunder, washing aft in boiling spume with a sound like the fall of the hail and rain of an electric storm. I could tell without needing to look that Mr. Lush’s latest order concerned the reefing of the foretopsail. At all events, he had his little ship well in hand, and the whole of the vessel’s small crew were on deck to run about to his directions, and there was some comfort to be got out of knowing this. To satisfy a small doubt that had arisen, I stepped once again over to the captain’s cabin and hammered loud and long upon the door, shouting out his name, and then trying the handle; but to no purpose.