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           Acouchwastotheleft,thebedplacetotheright;mywritingdeskandthechronometers’tablefacedthedoor.Butanyoneopeningit,unlesshesteppedrightinside,hadnoviewofwhatIcallthelong(orvertical)partoftheletter.Itcontainedsomelockerssurmountedbyabookcase;andafewclothes,athickjacketortwo,caps,oilskincoat,andsuchlike,hungonhooks.Therewasatthebottomofthatpartadooropeningintomybathroom,whichcouldbeenteredalsodirectlyfromthesaloon.Butthatwaywasneverused.

           Themysteriousarrivalhaddiscoveredtheadvantageofthisparticularshape.Enteringmyroom,lightedstronglybyabigbulkheadlampswungongimbalsabovemywritingdesk,Ididnotseehimanywheretillhesteppedoutquietlyfrombehindthecoatshungintherecessedpart.

           “Iheardsomebodymovingabout,andwentinthereatonce,”hewhispered.

           I,too,spokeundermybreath.

           “Nobodyislikelytocomeinherewithoutknockingandgettingpermission.”

           Henodded.Hisfacewasthinandthesunburnfaded,asthoughhehadbeenill.Andnowonder.Hehadbeen,Iheardpresently,keptunderarrestinhiscabinfornearlysevenweeks.Buttherewasnothingsicklyinhiseyesorinhisexpression.Hewasnotabitlikeme,really;yet,aswestoodleaningovermybedplace,whisperingsidebyside,withourdarkheadstogetherandourbackstothedoor,anybodyboldenoughtoopenitstealthilywouldhavebeentreatedtotheuncannysightofadoublecaptainbusytalkinginwhisperswithhisotherself.