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The After House by Mary Roberts Rinehart
page 95 of 225 (42%)
me sleep I haven't slept for a month."

Williams gave a whoop of fear, and ran out of the cabin, crying
that the ship was haunted and that Vail had come back. From that
moment, I believe, the after house was the safest spot on the ship.
To my knowledge, no member of the crew so much as passed it on the
starboard side, where Vail's and Turner's cabins were situated. It
was the one good turn the owner of the Ella did us on that hideous
return journey; for, during most of the sixteen days that it took
us to get back, he lay in his cabin, alternating the wild frenzy of
delirium tremens with quieter moments when he glared at us with
crafty, murderous eyes, and picked incessantly at the bandages that
tied him down. Not an instant did he sleep, that we could discover;
and always, day or night, Vail was with him, and they were quarreling.
The four women took care of him as best they could. For a time they
gave him the bromides I prepared, taking my medical knowledge without
question. In the horror of the situation, curiosity had no place,
and class distinctions were forgotten. That great leveler, a common
trouble, put Henrietta Sloane, the stewardess, and the women of the
party at the same table in the after house, where none ate, and
placed the responsibility for the ship, although, I was nominally
in command, on the shoulders of all the men. And there sprang up
among them a sort of esprit de corps, curious under the circumstances,
and partly explained, perhaps, by the belief that in imprisoning
Singleton they had the murderer safely in hand. What they thought
of Turner's possible connection with the crime, I do not know.

Personally, I was convinced that Turner was guilty. Perhaps,
lulled into a false security by the incarceration of the two men,
we unconsciously relaxed our vigilance. But by the first night the
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