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She shook her head, but before she could speak he went on: "You admit that you were frightened when you found Mr. Messac. Don't you think it possible that in the darkness and fog, and in your confusion you actually imagined this attack upon you?"

"No," said Marcia. She thought of the black water so near and so loud it seemed already to beat in her ears and choke her throat. "No. There was somebody, Captain. It was—horrible."

Again there was a small, tense silence. Then Captain Svendsen turned to Josh Morgan. "You say you didn't see anybody near her when you found her?"

Josh Morgan took a long breath of smoke. "No. Of course, it was very dark there. At least it seemed very dark coming out of the lighted portion of the deck. My eyes didn't adjust themselves to the darkness right away. But I only saw Miss Colfax; or rather I only saw that somebody was there on the deck. I ran to her and picked her up. I thought she'd slipped and hurt herself. The deck is very slippery with the fog."

"You came from which side of the deck?"

"The port side. I thought I'd have a last cigarette before going to bed."

The medical commanding officer gave him a brief, cool glance. "Of course, you're not supposed to be on deck at this hour, Colonel."

"I know that, Colonel."

For an odd, fleeting instant their punctiliousness seemed too polite and too formal. Then Marcia caught the fractional grin they exchanged. Ranking officers probably conceded certain privileges to each other. Captain Svendsen rubbed his forehead impatiently again. He said: "If anybody had been there, Colonel Morgan, could he have heard you coming along the deck from that direction?"

"I suppose so, sir. Or he could have seen me. I was silhouetted, I imagine, against the lighted portion of the deck. The fog made everything rather hazy."

"But you didn't actually hear or see anybody escape?"

"No, Captain. It's as I said: I only thought somebody had slipped and been hurt. Then I realized it was Miss Colfax and helped her inside. Major Strong took care of her and I went to find Messac. Major Strong joined me and we got Messac to his cabin."

"In all that time did you see anybody else on deck?"

"Nobody."

Captain Svendsen turned back to Marcia, his blue eyes very bright and blue in his broad, weathered face. "If anybody attacked you, Miss Colfax, it seems to me that almost certainly it was one of the people who were in the lifeboat with you. As I say, it is simply not possible to check on the exact whereabouts at all times of everybody on the ship. Nevertheless, I cannot believe that any of the medical staff, any of the nurses, any of the ship's complement, any patient could be involved in this. The trouble began when we brought the Lerida passengers aboard. I am convinced that one of them is responsible for it. You insist someone actually tried to murder you. So which one of the Lerida passengers was it?"

The light in the room seemed suddenly unbearable and too green. The cabinets and walls and instruments glittered too brightly. Marcia's thoughts touched them all—Gili, Daisy Belle, Luther Cates, Mickey, two unknown seamen. None of them could conceivably have wished to murder her.

Yet murder had been done in the wildly pitching lifeboat, in the darkness and confusion, during that battle for life. Again she thought as the Captain obviously thought, that they had brought murder with them, an unseen and dreadful companion upon that ship.

But murder cannot exist alone, as an intangible, untetherable presence; it must have physical form.

She said slowly: "None of them could have done it. None of them ..."

"Castiogne was murdered," said the Captain, watching her.

"But there is no motive for anybody to wish to murder me. There is no one . . ."

"Yet you say it happened."

"Yes, it happened." She felt drained of strength, as if even her thoughts could not function reasonably and clearly. Josh Morgan put out his cigarette with a sudden gesture. He said: "By the way, Colonel, I suppose you took a look at Miss Colfax. If she was struck . . ."

Colonel Wells looked up quickly. "An excellent suggestion," he said, and got up and came to Marcia. "If you don't mind," he said kindly and tipped her head back, turning her so the light from the green-shaded lamp fell strongly upon her. Again she was aware of the tensity of the silence in the shining little room and of the faraway vibration of engines. The motion of the ship was slower and yet heavy. Josh Morgan had taken a quick step or two nearer and was looking too, carefully, down into her face. Colonel Wells touched her chin and temples lightly. "Does that hurt? Did you strike your head here—here ..."

She could remember only that swift knowledge of motion somewhere near her, and then a crash and roar as if of water, and blackness. "I don't know. I don't know. . . . No, it doesn't hurt."

His sensitive, professional hands explored deftly, pushing back her hair, tilting her head again so he could observe her throat. The nurse's coat that had been loaned her lay across the end of the cot, its scarlet lining bold and gay. The doctor pushed the crisp collar of the nurse's uniform back from her throat and looked for a long moment. Finally, he said: "It's hard to tell. Were you wearing a coat?"

"Yes."

"Does this hurt—or this . . . ?" Again his deft fingers moved delicately over her.

"No—no . . ."

"The sedative would have dulled any pain. The coat would have protected the flesh."

Captain Svendsen said rather gruffly: "Well . . ." Josh Morgan turned abruptly away. Colonel Wells, a queer, thoughtful look on his thin face, gently replaced the uniform and turned to Captain Svendsen. She could not see his face. He said: "I think Miss Colfax might take another sedative. Will you see to it, Lieutenant?" He glanced at the nurse, who nodded, her face as still and unreadable as the wall. "And the nurse will see her to her cabin. I'll just go along with you to the bridge, if you don't mind, Captain. I know you're anxious to get back. ..."

Josh Morgan said rather suddenly: "I'll turn in, too, I think, sir. Do you mind if I stroll along with Miss Colfax and the Lieutenant?" Captain Svendsen got heavily to his feet and picked up his oilskins. "We'll have some coffee sent up," he said. "I've got to stay on the bridge the rest of the night. I've not run into a fog like this since the summer of 1936. After you, Colonel . . ."

But the Colonel carefully waited for the Captain to precede him out of the dispensary. This was his department, his courteous and formal manner seemed to say. The ship's administration was the Captain's. The young nurse said pleasantly: "Here's another pill, Miss Colfax. You might take it now. I'll get some water."

Colonel Wells glanced back from the doorway. "Good night, Miss Colfax. Try to sleep. If you need anything, Lieutenant Hale will be glad to help you."

He disappeared behind the Captain. The nurse—Lieutenant Hale—turned on a faucet across the room. Josh Morgan waited without speaking as the nurse came back and held the glass and another small white pill toward Marcia. She took both automatically.

"Thank you." She handed the glass back to the nurse. There were no mirrors in the room. She said to Josh Morgan: "There are marks on my throat."

Josh Morgan glanced at the nurse, who quickly said: "Now, now, Miss Colfax, don't try to talk. We want you to get some rest."

Marcia got up unsteadily, as the ship rolled, so Josh, who was nearest, put out his good arm to support her. She said, looking up into his face: "Tell me . . ."

Lieutenant Hale, her uniform rustling crisply, bent to pick up the red-lined coat and went to the door and turned the latch on the lock. Josh Morgan said: "What do you know about that affair last night?"