The Black Box Part 47

Underneath was the drawing of the clenched hands.

"There is no longer any doubt," Lenora said calmly. "Craig is on board. He must have been on deck a few minutes ago. It was his hand which placed this card in the porthole.... Listen! What's that?"

There was a scream from the deck. They all recognised Laura's voice.

Harris was out of the stateroom first but they were all on deck within ten seconds. Laura was standing with one hand clasping the rail, her hand fiercely outstretched towards the lower part of the promenade deck.

Through the darkness they heard the sound of angry voices.

"What is it, Laura?" Lenora cried.

She swung round upon them.

"Craig!" she cried. "Craig! I saw his face as I sat in my chair there, talking to the Captain. I saw a man's white face--nothing else. He must have been leaning over the rail. He heard me call out and he disappeared."

The Captain came slowly out of the shadows, limping a little and followed by his steward, who was murmuring profuse apologies.

"Did you find him?" Laura demanded eagerly.

"I did not," the Captain replied, a little tersely. "I ran into Brown here and we both had a shake-up."

"But he was there--a second ago!" Laura cried out.

"I beg your pardon, miss," Brown ventured, "but the deck's closed at the end, as you can see, with sail-cloth, and I was leaning over the rail myself when you shrieked. There wasn't any one else near me, and no one can possibly have pa.s.sed round the deck, as you can see plainly for yourself."

Laura stood quite still.

"What doors are there on the side?" she asked.

"The doors of my room only," the Captain replied, a little shortly. "It was Brown you saw, of course. He was standing exactly where you thought you saw Craig."

Laura walked to the end of the deck and back.

"Very well, then," she said, "you people had better get a strait-waistcoat ready for me. If I didn't see Craig there, I'm going off my head."

Quest had disappeared some seconds ago. He came thoughtfully back, a little later.

"Captain," he asked, "what shall you say if I tell you that I have proof that Craig is on board?"

The Captain glanced at Laura and restrained himself.

"I should probably say a great many things which I should regret afterwards," he replied grimly.

"Sit down and we'll tell you what has happened in my room," Quest continued.

He told the story, calmly and without remark. The Captain held his head.

"Of course, I'm convinced that I am a sane man," he said, "but this sounds more like a Munchausen story than anything I've ever heard. I suppose you people are all real? You are in earnest about this, aren't you? It isn't a gigantic joke?"

"We are in deadly earnest," the Professor p.r.o.nounced gravely.

"I have been down to the pantry," Quest went on. "The porthole has been open all day. It was just possible for a man to have reached the cups of bouillon as they were prepared. That isn't the point, however. Craig is cunning and clever enough for any devilish scheme on earth, and that card proves that he is on board."

"The s.h.i.+p shall be searched," the Captain declared, "once more. We'll look into every crack and every cupboard."

Lenora turned away with a little s.h.i.+ver. It was one of her rare moments of weakness.

"You won't find him! You won't ever find him!" she murmured. "And I am afraid!"

Lenora grasped the rails of the steamer and glanced downwards at the great barge full of Arab sailors and merchandise. In the near background were the docks of Port Said. It was their first glimpse of Eastern atmosphere and colour.

"I can't tell you how happy I am," she declared to Quest, "to think that this voyage is over. Every night I have gone to bed terrified."

He smiled grimly.

"Things have been quiet enough the last few days," he said. "There's Harris on this barge. Look at Laura waving to him!"

The Scotland Yard man only glanced up at them. He was occupied in leaning over towards Laura, who was on the deck below.

"If you said the word," he called out, "I wouldn't be going back, Miss Laura. I'd stick to the s.h.i.+p fast enough."

She laughed at him gaily.

"Not you! You're longing for your smoky old London already. You cut it out, my friend. You're a good sort, and I hope we'll meet again some day.

But--"

She shook her head at him good-humouredly. He turned away, disappointed, and waved his hand to Lenora and Quest on the upper deck.

"Coming on sh.o.r.e, any of you?" he enquired.

"We may when the boat moves up," Quest replied. "The Professor went off on the first barge. Here he is, coming back."

A little boat had shot out from the docks, manned by a couple of Arabs.

They could see the Professor seated in the stern. He was poring over a small doc.u.ment which he held in his hand. He waved to them excitedly.

"He's got news!" Quest muttered.

With much shouting the boat was brought to the side of the barge. The Professor was hauled up. He stumbled blindly across towards the gangway and came up the steps with amazing speed. He came straight to Quest and Lenora and gripped the former by the arm.

"Look!" he cried. "Look!"

He held out a card. Quest read it aloud:--

"There is not one amongst you with the wit of a Mongar child.

Good-bye!"

"THE HANDS!"

"Where did you get it?" Quest demanded.