‘He brought a lot of clothing from below and disposed it in his hammock in such a way as to distend it to the shape of a human body; then he threw over all the light cotton sheet he used to draw over himself when sleeping on deck. Having done this, he loaded his two revolvers and clambered into one of the quarter boats the Sissie carried right aft, swung out on their davits.^* Then he waited.

‘And again the doubt of such a thing happening to him crept into his mind. He was almost ashamed of this ridiculous vigil in a boat. He became bored. And then he became drowsy. The stillness of the black universe wearied him. There was not even the lapping of the water to keep him company, for the tide was out and the Sissie was lying on soft mud. Suddenly in the breathless, soundless, hot night, an argus pheasant screamed in the woods across the stream. Davidson started violently, all his senses on the alert at once.

‘The light was still burning in the house. Everything was quiet again, but Davidson felt drowsy no longer. An uneasy premonition of evil oppressed him.

“‘Surely I am not afraid,” he said to himself.

‘The silence was like a seal on his ears, and his nervous inward impatience grew intolerable. He commanded himself to keep still. But all the same he was just going to jump out of the boat when a faint ripple on the immensity of silence, a mere tremor in the air, the shadow, the ghost of a silvery laugh, reached his ears.

‘Illusion.

‘He kept very still. He had no difficulty now in emulating the stillness of the mouse—a grimly determined mouse. But he could not shake off that premonition of evil unrelated to his situation. Nothing happened. It had been an illusion!

‘A curiosity came to him to learn how they would go to work. He wondered and wondered, till the whole thing seemed more absurd than ever.

‘He had left the lamp in the cabin burning as usual. It was part of his plan that everything should be as usual. In the dim glow of the skylight panes he saw a shadowy, bulky form coming up the ladder without a sound, make two steps toward the hammock (it hung right over the skylight) and remain motionless. The Frenchman!

‘The minutes began to slip away. Davidson understood that the Frenchman’s part (the poor cripple) was to watch his (Davidson’s) slumbers, while the others were, no doubt, in the cabin busy forcing off the lazaretto hatch.

‘What was the course they meant to pursue once they got hold of the silver (there were ten cases, and each could be carried easily by two men) nobody can tell now. But so far Davidson was right. They were in the cabin. He expected to hear the sounds of breaking in every moment. But the fact was that one of them (perhaps Fector, who had stolen papers out of desks in his time) knew how to pick a lock and apparently was provided with the tools. Thus while Davidson expected every moment to hear them begin down there, they had the bar off already and two cases actually up in the cabin out of the lazaretto.

‘In the diffused faint glow of the skylight the Frenchman moved no more than a statue. Davidson could have shot him with the greatest ease—but he was not homicidally inclined. Moreover, he wanted to make sure before opening fire that the others had gone to work. Not hearing the sounds he expected to hear, he felt uncertain whether they all were on board yet.

‘While he listened the Frenchman, whose immobility might have but cloaked an internal struggle, moved forward with a pace, then another. Davidson, entranced, saw him advance one leg, withdraw his right