It was the intention of Burns and myself
to keep watch here, amidships.
Burns had probably suffered more than any of us. Whatever his
relation to the Hansen woman had been, he had been with her only
three hours before her death, and she was wearing a ring of his,
a silver rope tied in a sailor's knot, when she died. And Burns
had been fond of Captain Richardson, in a crew where respect rather
than affection toward the chief officer was the rule.
When Burns gave me the key to the captain's room Charlie Jones had
reached the other end of the long cabin, and was staring through
into the chartroom. It was a time to trust no one, and I assured
myself that Jones was not looking before I thrust it into my shirt.
"They're--all ready, Leslie," Burns said, his face working. "What
are we going to do with them?"
"We'll have to take them back."
"But we can't do that. It's a two weeks' matter, and in this
weather--"
"We will take them back, Burns," I said shortly, and he assented
mechanically:--
"Aye, aye, sir."
Just how it was to be done was a difficult thing to decide. Miss
Lee had not appeared yet, and the three of us, Jones, Burns, and I,
talked it over. Jones suggested that we put them in one of the
life boats, and nail over it a canvas and tarpaulin cover.
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