. . ."
"Jorgenson!" Lingard's voice was heard forward where the light of a
lantern appeared suddenly. Then, after a pause, Lingard was heard again:
"Here!"
Then the silent minutes began to go by. Mrs. Travers reclining in her
chair and d'Alcacer sitting on the stool waited motionless without a
word. Presently through the subdued murmurs and agitation pervading the
dark deck of the Emma Mrs. Travers heard a firm footstep, and, lantern
in hand, Lingard appeared outside the muslin cage.
"Will you come out and speak to me?" he said, loudly. "Not you. The
lady," he added in an authoritative tone as d'Alcacer rose hastily from
the stool. "I want Mrs. Travers."
"Of course," muttered d'Alcacer to himself and as he opened the door of
the Cage to let Mrs. Travers slip through he whispered to her, "This is
the hour of fate."
She brushed past him swiftly without the slightest sign that she had
heard the words. On the after deck between the Cage and the deckhouse
Lingard waited, lantern in hand. Nobody else was visible about; but
d'Alcacer felt in the air the presence of silent and excited beings
hovering outside the circle of light. Lingard raised the lantern as Mrs.
Travers approached and d'Alcacer heard him say:
"I have had news which you ought to know. Let us go into the deckhouse.
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