Along this passageway; then, I groped my way to the door at the end,
opening into the main cabin near the chart-room door and across from
Mrs. Turner's room. This door I had been in the habit of leaving
open, for two purposes--ventilation, and in case I might be, as Mrs.
Johns had feared, required in the night.

The door was locked on the outside.

I was a moment or two in grasping the fact. I shook it carefully
to see if it had merely caught, and then, incredulous, I put my
weight to it. It refused to yield. The silence outside was absolute.

I felt my way back to the window. It was open, but was barred with
iron, and, even without that, too small for my shoulders. I listened
for the mate. It was still dark, and so not yet time for the watch to
change. Singleton would be on duty, and he rarely came aft. There
was no sound of footsteps.

I lit a match and examined the lock. It was a simple one, and as my
idea now was to free myself without raising an alarm, I decided to
unscrew it with my pocket-knife. I was still confused, but inclined
to consider my imprisonment a jest, perhaps on the part of Charlie
Jones, who tempered his religious fervor with a fondness for practical
joking.

I accordingly knelt in front of the lock and opened my knife. I was
in darkness and working by touch. I had extracted one screw, and,
with a growing sense of satisfaction, was putting it in my pocket
before loosening a second, when a board on which I knelt moved under