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"George?"
"Yes. Then he is aboard?"
"Well--you--see----"
Then something dawned on, some fear seized the woman. It was in a trembling voice that she inquired:
"You, you are not wearing the s.h.i.+p's uniform. You--you are a policeman?"
"That's so."
"My G.o.d! I see. I see why he has not landed. It's all found out--he's in custody."
The detective twiddled the ends of a moustache he had under cultivation.
The case had looked complicated--and he liked complications--indeed, got a living out of them. But this latest phase of the business looked like the envelopment of the puzzle in another one.
"Tell me," she said, "is he aboard?"
"Yes."
"Let me see him."
"Come this way."
She came.
As they went below, the detective paused a minute. He inquired:
"Are you any relation of his?"
"His wife."
The detective whistled. Then he said:
"Come in here."
"He is not here?"
"No."
"Take me to him."
"Don't be in a hurry. See here, you'd best prepare yourself for a shock."
"Shock!"
"Your husband came aboard this boat at Liverpool."
"I know that; is he here now?"
"His--his remains are."
"His--his----"
"Now brace up. Take the blow like a--like a real woman."
"G-go on."
"He's lying aboard the s.h.i.+p now."
"Lying!"
"Dead."
"D-dead."
"Here, hold up. There, there, pull yourself together, missus----. Here, drink that----. That's better----. We all have to die, you know, sooner or later----. That's it. Sit there a minute or two. Now, you are going along all right, aren't you?"
"Yes--yes."
"Drop more water? That's it. Now, how do you feel? Well enough to see the body? You'd like to? That's all right, then. Must be identified, you know. Just sit here a minute, and I'll arrange things for you."
He went out, leaving the woman staring stonily at the roof of the saloon. To a subordinate on duty he said:
"Open that cabin, Mace. Tuck a towel round the neck so the wound don't show. Woman's his wife. I haven't told her yet he's been murdered. Time for that after she identifies him. Stand by."
He returned to the saloon in which he had left the woman.
"Now, Mrs. Depew."
The woman started.
"Just lean on my arm, ma'am, and brace yourself up. This way. Mind the step. That's it. In here. There you are, ma'am. There's the body."
The woman moaned, braced herself up as she had been told to, and went forward.
The moment her eyes rested on the dead body she screamed:
"That!"
She flung up her arms, and burst into hysterical laughter, which ended in a wail as she sank, a nerveless heap, in the officer's arms.
"Too much for her, Mace. Here, give me a hand out with her. That's it.
Take her on deck, the air will bring her to. That's it. Fetch a pillow for her head. Heart's beating, and she's breathing all right--it's only a faint. The shock was too great for her."
It was. She had expected to see in the dead man her husband.