my knee, lifted, as if the other end, beyond the door, had been
stepped on. There was no sound, no creak. Merely that ominous
lifting under my knee. There was some one just beyond the door.

A moment later the pressure was released. With a growing horror of
I know not what, I set to work at the second screw, trying to be
noiseless, but with hands shaking with excitement. The screw fell
out into my palm. In my haste I dropped my knife, and had to grope
for it on the floor. It was then that a woman screamed--a low,
sobbing cry, broken off almost before it began. I had got my knife
by that time, and in desperation I threw myself against the door.
It gave way, and I fell full length on the main cabin floor. I was
still in darkness. The silence in the cabin was absolute. I could
hear the steersman beyond the chart-room scratching a match.

As I got up, six bells struck. It was three o'clock.

Vail's room was next to the pantry, and forward. I felt my way to
it, and rapped.

"Vail," I called. "Vail!"

His door was open an inch or so. I went in and felt my way to his
bunk. I could hear him breathing, a stertorous respiration like
that of sleep, and yet unlike. The moment I touched him, the sound
ceased, and did not commence again. I struck a match and bent over
him.

He had been almost cut to pieces with an axe.