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Page 6
In conversation with Mr. Bell, the chief officer, I learned that
the supposed leader of the party was one, Mr. Azraeel. "Obviously,"
said Bell, "not his real name or not all it. I don't suppose
they'll show themselves on deck; they've got their own servants with
them, and seem to be people of consequence."
This conversation was interrupted, but I found my unseen fellow
voyagers peculiarly interesting and pursued inquiries in other
directions. I saw members of the distinguished travellers'
retinue going about their duties, but never obtained a glimpse
of Mr. Azraeel nor of any of his green-turbaned companions.
"Who is Mr. Azraeel?" I asked Ahmadeen.
"I cannot say," replied the Egyptian, and abruptly changed the
subject.
Some curious aroma of mystery floated about the ship. Ahmadeen
conveyed to me the idea that he was concealing something. Then,
one night, Mr. Bell invited me to step forward with him.
"Listen," he said.
From somewhere in the fo'c'sle proceeded low chanting.
"Hear it?"
"Yes. What the devil is it?"
"It's the lascars," said Bell. "They have been behaving in a most
unusual manner ever since the mysterious Mr. Azraeel joined us. I
may be wrong in associating the two things, but I shan't be sorry
to see the last of our mysterious passengers."
The next happening on board the Mandalay which I have to record was
the attempt to break open the door of Professor Deeping's stateroom.
Except when he was actually within, the Professor left his room door
religiously locked.
He made light of the affair, but later took me aside and told me a
curious story of an apparition which had appeared to him.
"It was a crescent of light," he said, "and it glittered through
the darkness there to the left as I lay in my berth."
"A reflection from something on the deck?"
Deeping smiled, uneasily.
"Possibly," he replied; "but it was very sharply defined. Like
the blade of a scimitar," he added.
I stared at him, my curiosity keenly aroused. "Does any explanation
suggest itself to you?" I said.
"Well," he confessed, "I have a theory, I will admit; but it is
rather going back to the Middle Ages. You see, I have lived in the
East a lot; perhaps I have assimilated some of their superstitions."
He was oddly reticent, as ever. I felt convinced that he was
keeping something back. I could not stifle the impression that the
clue to these mysteries lay somewhere around the invisible
Mohammedan party.
"Do you know," said Bell to me, one morning, "this trip's giving me
the creeps. I believe the damned ship's haunted! Three bells in the
middle watch last night, I'll swear I saw some black animal crawling
along the deck, in the direction of the forward companion-way."
"Cat?" I suggested.
"Nothing like it," said Mr. Bell. "Mr. Cavanagh, it was some
uncanny thing! I'm afraid I can't explain quite what I mean, but
it was something I wanted to shoot!"
"Where did it go?"
The chief officer shrugged his shoulders. "Just vanished," he said.
"I hope I don't see it again."
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