nged that
the man, though naturally vexed at being turned out, made no comment on
the plea of sudden indisposition which young Powell put forward.

The rapidity with which the sick man got off the poop must have
astonished the boatswain. But Powell, at the moment he opened the door
leading into the saloon from the quarter-deck, had managed to control
his agitation. He entered swiftly but without noise and found himself
in the dark part of the saloon, the strong sheen of the lamp on the
other side of the curtains visible only above the rod on which they ran.
The door of Mr Smith's cabin was in that dark part. He passed by it
assuring himself by a quick side glance that it was imperfectly closed.
"Yes," he said to me. "The old man must have been watching through the
crack. Of that I am certain; but it was not for me that he was watching
and listening. Horrible! Surely he must have been startled to hear and
see somebody he did not expect. He could not possibly guess why I was
coming in, but I suppose he must have been concerned." Concerned
indeed! He must have been thunderstruck, appalled.

Powell's only distinct aim was to remove the suspected tumbler. He had
no other plan, no other intention, no other thought. Do away with it in
some manner. Snatch it up and run out with it.

You know that complete mastery of one fixed idea, not a reasonable but
an emotional mastery, a sort of concentrated exaltation. Under its
empire men rush blindly through fire and water and opposing violence,
and nothing can stop them--unless, sometimes, a grain of sand. For his
blind purpose (and clearly the thought of Mrs Anthony was at the bottom
of it) Mr Powell had plenty of time. What checked him at the crucial
moment was the familiar, harmless aspect of common things, the steady
light, the open book on the table, the solitude, the peace, the
home-like effect of the place. He held the glass in his hand; all he
had to do was to vanish back beyond the curtains, flee with it
noiselessly into the night on deck, fling it unseen overboard. A minute
or less. And then all that would have happened would have been the
wonder at the utter disappearance of a glass tumbler, a ridiculous
riddle in pantry-affairs beyond the wit of anyone on board to solve.
The grain of sand against which Powell stumbled in his headlong career
was a moment of incredulity as to the truth of his own conviction
because it had failed to affect the safe aspect