"There seemed to be a general drift to Lee Fu’s rambling narrative, but I hadn’t yet caught sight of a logical dénouement. ’To resume the story of the coolie’ he continued with exasperating deliberation ’This, in plain language, is what he saw. Our friend, Captain Wilbur, descended into the lower hold, and worked his way forward to the fore-peak, where there was little cargo. There he laboured with great effort for several hours; you will recall that he is a vigorous man. He had equipped himself with a short crowbar, and carried a light tackle wrapped about his body beneath the coat. The tackle he loosened and hung to a hook above the middle of the port; I take it that he had brought this gear merely for the purpose of lowering easily the iron cross bars, so that they would make no noise. Had one fallen...’ "’Good God, Lee Fu, what are you trying to tell me?’ "’Merely occurrences. Many quite impossible things, Captain, nevertheless get themselves done in the dark, in secret places, out of sight and mind.... So, with the short crowbar he pried loose little by little the iron braces to the port, slinging them in his tackle and dropping them softly one by one into the ship’s bottom. It was a heavy task; the coolie said that sweat poured from the big man like rain. Yet he was bent on accomplishment, and persevered until he had done the job. Later he removed all the additional port fastenings; last of all he covered the cross-bars with dunnage, and rolled against the bow several bulky bales of matting to conceal the crime.... Captain, when the _Speedwell_ sailed from Hong Kong on her last voyage in command of our honoured friend one of her great bowports below the water hung on its hinges without internal fastenings, held in place only by the tightness of the caulking. The first heavy sea...’ "’Can it be possible?’ said I through clenched teeth. "’Oh, yes, so easily. It happened, and has become a part of life. As I told you, I have investigated with scrupulous care; my men dare not tell me lies’ "I was still trying to get my bearings, to grasp a clue. ’But why should he do it, Lee Fu? Had he anything against Turner?’ "’Not at all. You do not seem to understand. He was tired of the vessel, and freights were becoming very poor. He wanted the insurance. He now assures himself that he had no thought of disaster; one could hardly foresee an early typhoon. He had it in mind for the ship to sink discreetly, in pleasant weather, so that all hands might escape.... Yet he was willing to run the risk of wholesale murder. Remember how he sweated at the task, there in the fetid air of the lower hold. It was absentee murder, if you will; he did not contemplate, he was not forced to contemplate, the possible results of his act on the lives of others.... What do you think now, Captain, of a man who will betray his profession?’