Doud looked at him. “Got to be — ’ave you seen in the master’s cabin?”
“Yeah. Nobody seen ’im since last night. I’m gettin’ Mr. Scully.”
The mate came on deck promptly. “What’s the trouble?”
“Can’t seem to find Mr. Warren,” Bowyer said.
Scully frowned. “Seemed fine last night — told him o’ yer worries and he said he’d wait till first light an’ investigate. Didn’t seem fazed at all, he didn’t, just went back ter sleep.”
“Hadn’t we better go look fer him?” said Doud.
There was no very great number of places that would need searching in the small merchant ship, and it was not long before Scully came back with his men.
“Can’t find him,” he said, watching for reaction.
“Yer can’t find ’im?” Bowyer was incredulous. “A barky this big ’n’ yer can’t find ’im? ’E ’as to be somewhere!”
“No. We looked all over — ’e ain’t aboard.” He took on a set, dogged expression. The deckhands stood behind him, expressionless.
Bowyer glanced at the others. He spoke deliberately. “I think as how this c’n only be yer skipper. He knows Mr. Warren’s been tipped off and is goin’ to investigate this mornin’, ’n’ he thinks to get in first.”
“Them’s serious words,” the mate answered. “You’re saying as ’ow our cap’n is a murtherer!”
“Can’t help it,” Bowyer said gravely. “What do you think? ’E’s the only one keeps the ship’s papers, that right?”
“That’s right,” Scully said reluctantly.
“An’ ’e’s the one who sets the course ’n’ that — knows just where we’re bound.”
“Yes.”
“And last you saw of ’im last night was when he was a-restin’, not to be disturbed, I hear?”
“Well, yes.”
“We’ve been on deck all night, so it’s got ter be ’im.”
Scully considered this. “What you’re sayin’ is that I should take some sorta action.”
This time it was Bowyer who waited silently.
“Right, then — I will. There’s no sleep fer anyone until I do. I’m goin’ to take him in charge, suspicion o’ murther!”
“Don’t like this, mates!” Doud said, after Scully had left the deck. “Don’t like it a-tall. Not right, takin’ a ship from the Cap’n like that.”
“What else can he do?” Bowyer replied. “He’s right — none of us is goin’ to get much sleep until he’s in bilboes or somethin’.”
Kydd felt uneasy. “What I don’t get is how Kelsey sent Mr. Warren over th’ side without our hearin’ it.”
Doud answered in a low voice. “What I reckon, Tom, is that ’e thwacked Mr. Warren on the noggin from behind, ’n’ launched ’im out o’ the stern windows, like.”
“It’s over now, lads,” said Bowyer, “and ’ere’s Mr. Scully.”
Scully returned, with a satisfied look. “Right we are, mateys. ’E’s lashed to a chair in ’is cabin and’ll give us no more grief.” He stood astride and folded his arms. “We owes you a lot, you boys. Least we can do for yer is to stand yer watches. You get yer heads down and leave ’er to us.”
Bowyer cocked his head. “Shouldn’t we be comin’ up with Duke William soon?”
Scully seemed evasive. “Well — yeah, we’re gettin’ to the rendezvous position, but don’t forget, it’s fer noon, so we has to stand off ’n’ on until she comes up. Anyways, you’re all free o’ work — ye’re passengers.”
It seemed natural to go forward to the fo’c’sle, where they arranged themselves to avoid the occasional spray bursts over the bow and took advantage of the tentative warmth of the morning sun. The sea was sparkling now, cheerful and exuberant, a royal blue in place of the previous gray, and with the seas coming from astern it was a comfortable lift, a heartbeat’s pause and then a gentle curtsy down.
Wong drew out his scrimshaw and began plying the blade. It was turning out to be a lissome naked Oriental girl, lying full length and seductively propped up on her elbow. Doud lay down and closed his eyes, while Bowyer took a length of line and began to instruct Kydd on the more arcane bends and hitches.
The morning wore on. It felt odd to have no duties but, then, it seemed neither did the crew, who appeared to be taking it easy aft with Scully.