Hark! There were voices somewhere. There was a light shining on the deck on either side, through what appeared to be the skylight of a cabin, while the voices, no doubt, came from that direction. But it was not that alone which Geoff had heard, it was something else--the gentle slap, slap of feet on the deck, the soft footfall of a man shod with sandals perhaps, or more likely entirely unshod, perhaps a barefooted sentry pacing the deck to and fro, turning when he had accomplished a dozen paces. Geoff peered into the darkness, hoping to see the man, but failed, though the sounds were still quite audible. Then he stole forward till quite close to the cabin's skylight, where he hid behind a mast in a dark corner between it and the bulkhead of the cabin. Yes, the sounds made by that sentry--for if not a sentry what else could he be?--were clearly audible, while the figure now came into view, feebly outlined it is true yet quite sufficient for Geoff's purpose. There was a Turk, perhaps a Turkish sailor, striding to and fro some twenty yards farther forward, turning about each time he reached the rail, striding this way and that like an automaton--as if indeed he were a clockwork figure. "Rather too near to be pleasant," thought Geoff, "and the bother of it is that he makes it difficult for a fellow to peer into the cabin. Ah! one of these sky-lights is lifted. It's been a hot day, and I've no doubt it's stuffy down in the cabin. That's really very considerate of our friend, the Captain, as Phil would say. Yes, voices--Turkish voices--let's see what's happening." He went on all fours, and stole along beside the cabin's skylight till he came to the panel which was lifted. There was an opening, perhaps some six inches in width, through which the light was streaming, and also the voices of two men, at least, down in the cabin. But six inches is hardly sufficient space to admit a head, and Geoff at once increased the size of the opening by lifting the panel. "Stop, there! Enough! It's cool enough below!" he heard someone exclaim an instant later. "Idiot, leave the thing as it is now, and wait next time till you are told to make an alteration." By then Geoff was flat on the deck, listening to the voice so near to him, and watching that sentry, that automaton, as he moved to and fro; watching him and hoping that he would take no notice. Indeed, he need hardly have worried himself, for the man did not even deign to turn his head, but strolled on across his beat, his rifle now visible as it thrust upward above his shoulder. For the life of him Geoff could not help chuckling again, and repeating the words which Philip had used but a few minutes earlier. "A most accommodating sentry," he said. "If only he'll continue to march to and fro without looking this way it'll give me a chance of peeping into the cabin. Here goes! Oh! Three of 'em, eh! All officers, and, by George, the chief of 'em is bald-headed, or I'm a Dutchman!"