The After House (Chapter 8, page 1 of 8)


Previous Page
Next Page

Chapter 8

But, after all, the story of Henrietta Sloane only added to the
mystery. She told it to me, sitting propped in a chair in Mrs.
Johns's room, her face white, her lips dry and twitching. The crew
were making such breakfast as they could on deck, and Mr. Turner
was still in a stupor in his room across the main cabin. The four
women, drawn together in their distress, were huddled in the center
of the room, touching hands now and then, as if finding comfort in
contact, and reassurance.

"I went to bed early," said the stewardess; "about ten o'clock, I
think. Karen had not come down; I wakened when the watch changed.
It was hot, and the window from our room to the deck was open. There
is a curtain over it, to keep the helmsman from looking in--it is
close to the wheel. The bell, striking every half-hour, does not
waken me any more, although it did at first. It is just outside the
window. But I heard the watch change. I heard eight bells struck,
and the lookout man on the forecastle head call, 'All's well.' "I sat up and turned on the lights. Karen had not come down, and I
was alarmed. She had been--had been flirting a little with one of
the sailors, and I had warned her that it would not do. She'd be
found out and get into trouble.

"The only way to reach our cabin was through the chart-room, and
when I opened the door an inch or two, I saw why Karen had not come
down. Mr. Turner and Mr. Singleton were sitting there. They were--"
She hesitated.

Previous Page
Next Page


Rate This Book

Current Rating: 2.8/5 (278 votes cast)



Review This Book or Post a Comment