crew were somewhat calmer. Here and there a pipe was lighted, and
a plug of tobacco went the rounds. The forecastle supper, served
on deck, was eaten; and Charlie Jones, securing a permission that I
thought it best to grant, went forward and painted a large black
cross on the side of the jolly-boat, and below it the date, August
13, 1911. The crew watched in respectful silence.

The weather was in our favor, the wind on our quarter, a blue sky
heaped with white cloud masses, with the sunset fringed with the
deepest rose. The Ella made no great way, but sailed easily. Burns
and I alternated at the forward companionway, and, although the men
were divided into watches, the entire crew was on duty virtually
all the time.

I find, on consulting the book in which I recorded, beginning with
that day, the incidents of the return voyage, that two things
happened that evening. One was my interview with Singleton; the
other was my curious and depressing clash with Elsa Lee, on the deck
that night.

Turner being quiet and Burns on watch at the beginning of the second
dog watch, six o'clock, I went forward to the room where Singleton
was imprisoned. Burns gave me the key, and advised me to take a
weapon. I did not, however, nor was it needed.

The first mate was sitting on the edge of his bunk, in his attitude
of the morning, his head in his hands. As I entered, he looked up
and nodded. His color was still bad; he looked ill and nervous, as
might have been expected after his condition the night before.