second mate answered that he knew no one on board who answered to
the likeness I had drawn.

"Gentlemen, I swear he's in the ship!" I cried, and described him again
as I had seen him when the open bull's-eye allowed the light to stream
fair upon his face.

But now the arrival of the chief officer, the boatswain, and the
carpenter occasioned some bustle. My story was hastily re-told. The
carpenter fetched a lantern, and the whole group examined the infernal
machine by the clear light.

"There's no question as to the object of this piece of clockwork, sir,"
said the chief officer.

"None," exclaimed the captain; "it flashed a few minutes ago in my
hand. The thing seems alive. Softly, now. The passengers mustn't
hear of this: there must be no panic. Take the boatswain and carpenter
along with you, Mr. Morritt, into the lazarette. But mind your fire."
And he then told them where the barrel was stowed as I had described it.

The three men left the poop. The captain now examined me afresh. He
showed no temper whatever at my having hidden myself on board his ship.
All his questions concerned the appearance of the man who had adjusted
the machine, how he had gone to work, what he had said when he talked
to himself--but this question I could not answer. When he had ended
his inquiries he sent for the chief steward, to whom he related what
had happened, and then asked him if there was such a person in the ship
as I had described. The man answered there was.

"What's his name?"

"He's booked as John Howland, sir. He's a steerage passenger. His
cabin's No. 2 on the starboard side. His meals are taken to him in his
cabin, and I don't think he's ever been out of it since he came aboard."

"Go and see if he's in his cabin," said the captain.

As the steward left the poop the chief mate, the boatswain, and
carpenter returned.

"It's as the young man states, sir," said Mr. Morritt. "There's a
barrel of gunpowder stowed where he says it is with a hole in the head
ready to receive the end of a fuse."

"Presently clear it out, and get it stowed away in the magazine," said
the captain, calmly. "This has been a narrow escape. Carpenter, go
forward and bring a set of irons along. Is there only one barrel of
gunpowder below, d'ye say, Mr. Morritt?"

"No more, sir."

"How could such a thing find its way into the lazarette?" said the
captain, addressing the second mate.

"God alone knows!" burst out the other.