salts to her nose. Now she looked up.

"My dear woman," she said, "are you trying to tell us that we slept
through all that?"

"If you did not hear it, you must have slept," the stewardess
persisted obstinately. "The door into the main cabin was closed.
Karen came down just after. She was frightened. She said the first
mate was on deck, in a terrible humor; and that Charlie Jones, who
was at the wheel, had appealed to Burns not to leave him there--
that trouble was coming. That must have been at half-past twelve.
The bell struck as she put out the light. We both went to sleep
then, until Mrs. Turner's ringing for Karen roused us."

"But I did not ring for Karen."

The woman stared at Mrs. Turner.

"But the bell rang, Mrs. Turner. Karen got up at once and, turning
on the light, looked at the clock. 'What do you think of that?' she
said. 'Ten minutes to three, and I'd just got to sleep!' I growled
about the light, and she put it out, after she had thrown on a
wrapper. The room was dark when she opened the door. There was a
little light in the chart-room, from the binnacle lantern. The door
at the top of the companionway was always closed at night; the light
came through the window near the wheel."

She had kept up very well to this point, telling her story calmly and
keeping her voice down. But when she reached the actual killing of
the Danish maid, she went to pieces. She took to shivering