"No, sir."

"If you were sick, would you be likely to smoke?"

This question, I believe, was ruled out.

"In case the wheel of the vessel were lashed for a short time, what
would happen?"

"Depends on the weather. She'd be likely to come to or fall off
considerable."

"Would the lookout know it?"

"Yes, sir."

"How?"

"The sails would show it, sir."

That closed the proceedings for the day. The crowd seemed reluctant
to disperse. Turner's lawyers were in troubled consultation with
him. Singleton was markedly more cheerful, and I thought the
prosecution looked perturbed and uneasy. I went back to jail that
night, and dreamed of Elsa--not as I had seen her that day, bending
forward, watching every point of the evidence, but as I had seen her
so often on the yacht, facing into the salt breeze as if she loved
it, her hands in the pockets of her short white jacket, her hair
blowing back from her forehead in damp, close-curling rings.