‘This is a terrible, a startling event, my lord,’ said he. ‘It’s the loss of a very eminent and distinguished man,’ I observed. ‘Ah, yes, and in a very fearful manner,’ he answered. ‘I am not prejudging your position, but you must see that it puts you in a rather serious situation.’ There were two or three of his officers standing near. I took a step towards him. I liked his looks; and somehow his grief at Mouraki’s end did not seem intense. I determined to play the bold game. ‘Nothing, I assure you, to what I should have been in if it had not occurred,’ said I composedly. A start and a murmur ran round the group. The captain looked uncomfortable. ‘With his Excellency’s plans we have nothing to do--’ he began. ‘Aye, but I have,’ said I. ‘And when I tell you--’ ‘Gentlemen,’ said the captain hastily, ‘leave us alone for a little while.’ I saw at once that I had made an impression. It seemed not difficult to create an impression adverse to Mouraki now that he was dead, though it had not been wise to display one when he was alive. ‘I don’t know,’ said I, when we were left alone together, ‘whether you knew the relations between the late Pasha and myself?’ ‘No,’ said he in a steady voice, looking me full in the face. ‘It was not, perhaps, within the sphere of your duty to know them?’ I hazarded. ‘It was not,’ said he. I thought I saw the slightest of smiles glimmering between beard and moustache. ‘But now that you’re in command, it’s different?’ ‘It is undoubtedly different now,’ he admitted. ‘Shall we talk in your cabin?’ ‘By all means;’ and he led the way. When we reached the cabin, I gave him a short sketch of what had happened since Mouraki’s arrival. He was already informed as to the events before that date. He heard me with unmoved face. At last I came to my attempted escape with Phroso by the secret passage and to Constantine’s attack. ‘That fellow was a villain,’ he observed. ‘Yes,’ said I. ‘Read those.’ And I handed him the printed slips, adding, ‘I suppose he sent these by fishing-boats to Rhodes, first to pave the way, and finally to account for my disappearance.’ ‘I must congratulate you on a lucky escape, my lord.’ ‘You have more than that to congratulate me on, captain. Your launch seems ready for a voyage.’ ‘Yes; but I have countermanded the orders.’ ‘What were they?’ ‘I beg your pardon, my lord, but what concern is it--?’ ‘For a trip to Rhodes, perhaps?’ ‘I shall not deny it if you guess it.’ ‘By the order of the Pasha?’ ‘Undoubtedly.’ ‘On what errand?’ ‘His Excellency did not inform me.’ ‘To carry this perhaps?’ I flung the paper which bore Mouraki’s handwriting on the table that stood between us. He took it up and read it; while he read, I took my pencil from my pocket and wrote on the blank slip of paper, which I had found in the pocket-book, the message that Mouraki’s brain had surely conceived, though his fingers had grown stiff in death before they could write it.