Detective and mystery stories; Murder -- Fiction; Yachts -- Fiction
Elsa Lee, on hearing the story of Henrietta Sloane, had gone to the
maids’ cabin, and had found it where it had been flung into the berth
of the stewardess.
CHAPTER VIII.
THE STEWARDESS’S STORY
But, after all, the story of Henrietta Sloane only added to the
mystery. She told it to me, sitting propped in a chair in Mrs. Johns’s
room, her face white, her lips dry and twitching. The crew were making
such breakfast as they could on deck, and Mr. Turner was still in a
stupor in his room across the main cabin. The four women, drawn
together in their distress, were huddled in the center of the room,
touching hands now and then, as if finding comfort in contact, and
reassurance.
“I went to bed early,” said the stewardess; “about ten o’clock, I
think. Karen had not come down; I wakened when the watch changed. It
was hot, and the window from our room to the deck was open. There is a
curtain over it, to keep the helmsman from looking in—it is close to
the wheel. The bell, striking every half-hour, does not waken me any
more, although it did at first. It is just outside the window. But I
heard the watch change. I heard eight bells struck, and the lookout man
on the forecastle head call, ‘All’s well.’
“I sat up and turned on the lights. Karen had not come down, and I was
alarmed. She had been—had been flirting a little with one of the
sailors, and I had warned her that it would not do. She’d be found out
and get into trouble.
“The only way to reach our cabin was through the chart-room, and when I
opened the door an inch or two, I saw why Karen had not come down. Mr.
Turner and Mr. Singleton were sitting there. They were—” She hesitated.
“Please go on,” said Mrs. Turner. “They were drinking?”
“Yes, Mrs. Turner. And Mr. Vail was there, too. He was saying that the
captain would come down and there would be more trouble. I shut the
door and stood just inside, listening. Mr. Singleton said he hoped the
captain would come—that he and Mr. Turner only wanted a chance to get
at him.”
Miss Lee leaned forward and searched the stewardess’s face with
strained eyes.
“You are sure that he mentioned Mr. Turner in that?”
“That was exactly what he said, Miss Lee. The captain came down just
then, and ordered Mr. Singleton on deck. I think he went, for I did not
hear his voice again. I thought, from the sounds, that Mr. Vail and the
captain were trying to get Mr. Turner to his room.”
Mrs. Johns had been sitting back, her eyes shut, holding a bottle of
salts to her nose. Now she looked up.
“My dear woman,” she said, “are you trying to tell us that we slept
through all that?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account