We were walking to and fro athwart the quarterdeck. No one of the
crew forward could be seen (the day was Sunday), and the mate
pursued:

"There was some little dispute about it. Our chaps took offence.
'As if we would harbour a thing like that,' they said. 'Wouldn't
you like to look for him in our coal-hole?' Quite a tiff. But
they made it up in the end. I suppose he did drown himself. Don't
you, sir?"

"I don't suppose anything."

"You have no doubt in the matter, sir?"

"None whatever."

I left him suddenly. I felt I was producing a bad impression, but
with my double down there it was most trying to be on deck. And it
was almost as trying to be below. Altogether a nerve-trying
situation. But on the whole I felt less torn in two when I was
with him. There was no one in the whole ship whom I dared take
into my confidence. Since the hands had got to know his story, it
would have been impossible to pass him off for any one else, and an
accidental discovery was to be dreaded now more than ever. . . .

The steward being engaged in laying the table for dinner, we could
talk only with our eyes when I first went down. Later in the
afternoon we had a cautious try at whispering. The Sunday
quietness of the ship was against us; the stillness of air and