mself in listening to these broken ravings, in looking at that old
feverish face when, suddenly, quick as lightning, Mr. Smith spun round,
snatched up the captain's glass and with a stifled, hurried exclamation,
"Here's luck," tossed the liquor down his throat.

"I know now the meaning of the word 'Consternation,'" went on Mr. Powell.
"That was exactly my state of mind. I thought to myself directly:
There's nothing in that drink. I have been dreaming, I have made the
awfulest mistake! . . ."

Mr. Smith put the glass down. He stood before Powell unharmed, quieted
down, in a listening attitude, his head inclined on one side, chewing his
thin lips. Suddenly he blinked queerly, grabbed Powell's shoulder and
collapsed, subsiding all at once as though he had gone soft all over, as
a piece of silk stuff collapses. Powell seized his arm instinctively and
checked his fall; but as soon as Mr. Smith was fairly on the floor he
jerked himself free and backed away. Almost as quick he rushed forward
again and tried to lift up the body. But directly he raised his
shoulders he knew that the man was dead! Dead!

He lowered him down gently. He stood over him without fear or any other
feeling, almost indifferent, far away, as it were. And then he made
another start and, if he had not kept Mrs. Anthony always in his mind, he
would have let out a yell for help. He staggered to her cabin-door, and,
as it was, his call for "Captain Anthony" burst out of him much too loud;
but he made a great effort of self-control. "I am waiting for my orders,
sir," he said outside that door distinctly, in a steady tone.

It was very still in there; still as death. Then he heard a shuffle of
feet and the captain's voice "All right. Coming." He leaned his back
against the bulkhead as you see a drunken man sometimes propped up
against a wall, half doubled up. In that attitude the captain found him,
when he came out, pulling the door to after him quickly. At once Anthony
let his eyes run all over the cabin. Powell, without a word, clutched
his forearm, led him round the end of the table and began to justify
himself. "I couldn't stop him," he whispered shakily. "He was too quick
for me. He drank it up and fell down." But the captain was not
listening. He was looking down at Mr. Smith, thinking perhaps that it
was a mere chance his own body was not lying there. They did not want to
speak. They made signs to each other with their eyes. Th