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If the light were put out at Trask's request, and later he was found prowling on deck, he could no longer maintain his character of being a person without suspicion of anything amiss aboard. But if he put the light out himself, he could offer the plea that it prevented him from sleeping, and the same excuse could be given if he were later found outside for a little fresh air.
She had mounted, and was away. He heard the mare's hoofs clattering up the street. His own horse was stabled at the Ferry Inn. It would cost him ten minutes at least to mount and pursue. . . . "I said 'provisionally." It was Mr. Trask's voice, speaking at his elbow. "Nay, man, don't strike me; since you meant business, 'tis yourself you should strike for a fool.
"Go for him with the boat," said Trask. "You come along?" suggested the captain. "I'll stick by the schooner," said Trask. "Then I'll take the cook." "Not unless the cook wants to go of his own accord," was Trask's reply. "I'm not going to ask Tom to do anything." "Want me to go alone?" asked the captain, in surprise. "I suggest that you row up toward the point, and call Dinshaw down to you.
It was natural enough for a sailing master to resent the slightest implication that he was not efficient, and Trask was not so much concerned with Jarrow's hidden meaning on that score as with his covert acknowledgment that he had been watchful of Trask's attitude. It was something to know that Jarrow was keen enough to divine the fact that Trask was secretly critical.
"Bring me another pan," he called, "and more water." He began twisting the bowl with a rotary motion, and when Doc arrived with the pan, nursed the sand out into it, and as the last of the sand went over the lip of the bowl, ran out on deck into the sun, and examined the bottom of the wooden bowl. "Lordy me!" gasped Doc, leaning over Trask's shoulder. "Look at the sparkle!"
I don't think it would be wise to mention Beowulf to Captains Spasso and Valkanhayn. Wait till we've hit Khepera and Amaterasu. They may be feeling like heroes, then." Khepera left a bad taste in Trask's mouth. He was still tasting it when the colored turbulence died out of the screen and left the gray nothingness of hyperspace.
Silk commanded an oily smile and, book in hand, advanced to the chancel step. "Ah, no!" she murmured. "It is wicked " She cast her eyes around, as though for help. They did not turn it was pitifullest of all to him who was about to swear to help her throughout life. They turned and encountered Mr. Trask's.
The swinging lamp over the cabin table was burning dimly, waves of its light washing into Trask's room like the lifting of a lazy tide, and whirling grotesque shadows up and down the bulkhead. The lighted lamp stood in the way of Trask's carrying out his plan. He wished he had found some excuse for putting it out earlier. But he had not realized that it was to be left burning.
"If ye don't mind, cap'n," interrupted Peth, "I'd not want to bunk with the old man. I got to be up and around nights." "All right," said Jarrow. "There are two bunks in Mr. Trask's room here. Maybe you wouldn't find it out of the way if Mr. Peth took the lower?" "Not at all," said Trask. "I'll sleep soundly enough." "My gear's in there now," said Peth, and he went out on deck.
"It sounds interesting," said Locke, getting more puzzled as to why Jarrow should call on him to take him into his confidence regarding plans about Dinshaw's island. "There's big money in it," said Jarrow. "May I ask why you think so, Captain Jarrow?" inquired Trask. Jarrow turned to Trask in surprise. The question was appallingly direct, and Trask's tone was crisp and business-like.
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