IN DOROTHY'S STATEROOM

I stood crouched, with eye at the crack watchful of every movement in
the lighted cabin, my own decision made. I must see and talk with
Dorothy. We must understand each other, and the earlier we could thus
begin working together in unison, the better. Gunsaules bore a tray of
dishes from the Captain's room and then, after carefully wiping up the
main table, and sliding it up out of the way on its stantions, placed
a bottle of brandy and some glasses on a swinging shelf. Apparently
satisfied that his work there was completed he turned down the light,
and departed along the passage leading amidships. A moment later I
heard the sound of dishes grinding together preparatory to being
washed. No better opportunity for action was likely to occur, although
the situation was not without peril. Jose might emerge at any instant
from Sanchez's cabin, while I had no reason to be assured that Estada
would remain long on deck. Even if he did, any movement below could be
observed through the overhead glass. Indeed it might be with this
purpose in view that he had gone outside. However I felt compelled to
accept the chance. The light was so dim that I believed I could steal
cautiously along in the deeper shadows without attracting attention
from the deck, even if someone stood there on watch.

I moved noiselessly leaving my own door slightly ajar, and crept
along close to the side walls until I attained my destination.
Nothing occurred causing me to fear my movements were detected. To
have knocked at the closed door however softly might be overheard, so
knowing it to be unlocked I merely lifted the latch noiselessly, and
slipped quickly within. There was no light, except a glimmer of stars
through a large after port, but against this faint radiance she stood
vaguely revealed. Evidently the girl had been standing there, gazing
out at the waters, and had turned swiftly about at my entrance,
aroused by some slight sound. Her first thought must have been Estada,
for there was a startled note of fear in her challenge.

"Who are you? Why do you come here?"

"Speak low," I cautioned. "You must know my voice."

"Geoffry Carlyle!"

"Yes, but do not use that name--all hope depends on my remaining
unknown. You welcome me?"

She came straight forward through the dim star-shine, a spectral
figure, with both hands outstretched.

"Welcome!" her tone that of intense sincerity. "Your presence gives me
all the stre