im, he also must recognize me as chief-inspector Strock,
to whom had been assigned the task of penetrating the Great Eyrie.

I looked at him curiously. On his part, while he did not seek to
avoid my eyes, he showed at least a singular indifference to the fact
that he had a stranger on board.

As I watched him, the idea came to me, a suggestion which I had not
connected with the first view of him in Washington, that I had
already seen this characteristic figure. Was it in one of the
photographs held in the police department, or was it merely a picture
in some shop window? But the remembrance was very vague. Perhaps I
merely imagined it.

Well, though his companions had not had the politeness to answer me,
perhaps he would be more courteous. He spoke the same language as I,
although I could not feel quite positive that he was of American
birth. He might indeed have decided to pretend not to understand me,
so as to avoid all discussion while he held me prisoner.

In that case, what did he mean to do with me? Did he intend to
dispose of me without further ceremony? Was he only waiting for night
to throw me overboard? Did even the little which I knew of him, make
me a danger of which he must rid himself? But in that case, he might
better have left me at the end of his anchor line. That would have
saved him the necessity of drowning me over again.

I turned, I walked to the stern, I stopped full in front of him.
Then, at length, he fixed full upon me a glance that burned like a
flame.

"Are you the captain?" I asked.

He was silent.

"This boat! Is it really the 'Terror?'"

To this question also there was no response. Then I reached toward
him; I would have taken hold of his arm.

He repelled me without violence, but with a movement that suggested
tremendous restrained power.

Planting myself again before him, I demanded in a louder tone, "What
do you mean to do with me?"

Words seemed almost ready to burst from his lips, which he compressed
with visible irritation. As though to check his speech he turned his
head aside. His hand touched a regulator of some sort, and the
machine rapidly increased its speed.

Anger almost mastered me. I wanted to cry out "So be it! Keep your
silence! I know who you are, just as I know your machine, recognized
at Madison, at Boston, at Lake Kirdall. Yes; it is you, who have
rushed so recklessly over our roads, our seas and our lakes! Your
boat is the 'Terror' and you her comma