gely
quiet, and when Trask or Locke or Marjorie came in sight, the men
were full of covert looks and signals to each other with their
hands for caution and whispers.

There was a feeling of tension, a sudden stiffening of demeanour
once the anchor was down. It was not so much expressed as shown by
repression. There was a soberness of purpose in the most trifling
details of their duties, as if a crisis long expected had arrived.

This change in manner was best exemplified by Doc Bird. Trask had
noticed that when serving the table he had a way of looking over
his shoulder suddenly, or taking on a look of scared intentness at
any unexpected sounds from the deck or in the cabin. Doc had become
strangely alert, watchful of everybody, and nervous to the point of
sudden shivering attacks. Trask ascribed Doc's actions to an
unexplained coolness which had sprung up between the steward and
Shanghai Tom, although it was quite possible Doc was aware of
something of the nature which had given Trask a sense of disquiet,
this undercurrent of insincerity, of hidden meanings, of an evil
spirit lurking under the friendly relations of Jarrow and Dinshaw
with the trio who had come seeking the island.

Considering these matters, Trask undressed and put on his pajamas.
Then he opened the door of his room, and rolled into his bunk,
purposely accentuating the creaking of the boards under his
mattress so that any listener might be assured he had turned in for
the night.

The hole cut in the upper part of Jarrow's door was open and dark.
The captain, to all appearances, had gone to sleep, but Trask had
plans for the night and did not care to take chances at having them
upset.

There was a mild snoring from Dinshaw's room and despite the
chafing of the schooner's gear and the patter of the water under
her counter, she seemed deathly quiet after the interminable
groaning of her timbers during the passage from Manila.

The swinging lamp over the cabin table was burning dimly, waves of
its light washing into Trask's room like the lifting of a lazy
tide, and whirling grotesque shadows up and down the bulkhead.

The lighted lamp stood in the way of Trask's carrying out his plan.
He wished he had found some excuse for putting it out earlier. But
he had not realized that it was to be left burning. He wanted to go
out and do a little reconnoitering, but as the door of the main
cabin leading forward was open, he had no way of leaving the cabin