author:C. N. Williamson

“ When I got back to my own quarters I noticed at once that the brandy bottle and the tumbler which had accompanied it were gone from my dressing table. Nor were they to be found in the cabin. The woman must have taken them to Roger's room and placed them somewhere before I saw her. “Disgusting!” I murmured, for my thought was that the drunken creature had clung affectionately to the things. Even though I'd sharpened my wits to search all her motives, I failed over that simple act!
“Oh, poor Roger!” I said to myself. “And poor Shelagh!” ”

“ Why should Shelagh's life and yours be spoiled by a cruel woman, a criminal, whose last act was to try and ruin the man she'd injured, sinned against for years? As for the other, the unknown one, if the spirit can see, surely it would be glad to help in such a cause. What you would have to do, you'd do reverently. There must be tarpaulin on board or canvas coverings that wouldn't be looked for or missed. There must be a screw driver and things like that. The great danger is that if the coffin's in plain sight anywhere and a man on watch——”
“There's no danger of that kind. ”

“ As for what's in the coffin now, that can safely be given to the sea. Whatever it may be, and whenever or wherever it's found, it won't be connected with the name of Roger Fane.
“Oh, don't think I do not realize the full horror of the thing. I do! But between two evils one must choose the less, if it hurts no one. ”