“Gone! good God, how can she be gone?”
“We knew what you would ask, and sent down to her cabin a quarter of an
hour ago, sir. She was not there. Mr. Colin Ross, him that commands for
Mr. Imroth, he says he knows nothing of it. It’s true as heaven,
sir—the lady’s come to no harm by us, nor would have done if she had
been aboard here twenty years. There wasn’t a man that wouldn’t have
given his life for her. We don’t know where she is, sir, and that’s
gospel truth.”
Imagine the scene. I stood upon the open deck of the strangest steamer I
have yet set foot upon—a steamer so splendidly fitted and furnished, as
one glance told me, that no Atlantic liner, whatever company floated
her, could have claimed a greater elegance. The bridge above me had the
neatness, the shining brass, the white ladders of a man-of-warsman. The
guns were polished to the last possibility. Every cabin into which I
looked appeared to boast the luxury and equipment of a state saloon on a
Cunard or a White Star boat. I perceived an immense dining hall aft, and
a companion-way not unsuited to a ten thousand ton steamer. There were
boats abundantly, safety rafts—the usual equipment of an ocean-going
vessel, and yet, in the strongest contrast, something which
differentiated this ship from any other I had ever visited, and placed
her at once in a category apart. This was nothing more nor less than a
screen of solid steel bars, ten feet high, perhaps, and defended by
forbidding spikes, sharp as swords and impossible to fend, a screen
cutting the vessel into two clear divisions, and obviously the Jew’s
protection against all others who sailed with him. I judged at once that
the men lived forward of this screen; Imroth and his chosen company aft.
A wicket gate, just large enough to admit the body of a man, permitted
communication between the divisions; but the steelwork itself appeared
to be carried cunningly over the bulwarks in a manner that must have
rendered absolutely the aft cabins secure not only against the seamen
collectively, but against any spy among them who had the fancy to watch
the Jew in his less suspicious moments.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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