"If there is any further disagreement Captain Abbot shall be called,"
I said to Ringham. "That I promise you."
Ringham nodded and clumped back to his bunk, doubtless relieved at
not being required to surrender more of his time off-watch. But the
girl stood her ground, her eyes accusing all of us.
"Well, Marjory," said Murray pleasantly, "and do you plan to join in
our debate?"
That was the first time I heard her name, and--why, I can not say--I
heard it without surprise, as if I had always known it to be hers.
It suited her, as names sometimes express the character and
appearance of their possessors.
"What hath happened?" she asked in the same words the second mate had
used.
"You have heard," said Murray.
She shook her head.
"That is not all. This--" she hesitated--"gentleman's clothes are
wet. Tom does not attack people without orders."
Murray shrugged his shoulders. De Veulle answered her, leaning
across the table, his eyes burning with hatred for me.
"You know what this man hath done, mademoiselle," he cried. "You
know his record in the past. You know that he comes with us to spy
out our plans, to thwart, if may be, what we undertake to do. Is any
fate too hard for him? Why should you concern yourself?"
His voice grew coaxing.
"'Tis no matter for ladies' soft hands to dabble in."
"Then there has been fighting?" she asked.