The After House

"Vaguely."

"What were the men doing at that time?"

"I believe--really, I do not like to repeat so often that I was

ill that day."

"Have you any recollection of what you said to the men at that time?"

"None."

"Let me refresh your memory from the ship's log.

(Reading.) "'Mr. Turner insisted that the bodies be buried at sea,

and, on the crew opposing this, retired to his cabin, announcing

that he considered the attitude of the men a mutiny."' "I recall being angry at the men--not much else. My position was

rational enough, however. It was midsummer, and we had a long

voyage before us."

"I wish to read something else to you. The witness Leslie testified

to sleeping in the storeroom, at the request of Mrs. Johns".

(reading), "'giving as her reason a fear of something going wrong,

as there was trouble between Mr. Turner and the captain.'"

Whatever question Mr. Goldstein had been framing, he was not

permitted to use this part of the record. The log was admissible

only as a record on the spot, made by a competent person and

witnessed by all concerned, of the actual occurrences on the Ella.

My record of Mrs. Johns's remark was ruled out; Turner was not on

trial.

Turner, pale and shaking, left the stand at two o'clock that day,

and I was recalled. My earlier testimony had merely established

the finding of the bodies. I was now to have a bad two hours. I

was an important witness, probably the most important. I had heard

the scream that had revealed the tragedy, and had been in the main

cabin of the after house only a moment or so after the murderer. I

had found the bodies, Vail still living, and had been with the

accused mate when he saw the captain prostrate at the foot of the

forward companion.

All of this, aided by skillful questions, I told as exactly as

possible. I told of the mate's strange manner on finding the bodies;

I related, to a breathless quiet, the placing of the bodies in the

jolly-boat; and the reading of the burial service over them; I told

of the little boat that followed us, like some avenging spirit,

carrying by day a small American flag, union down, and at night a

white light. I told of having to increase the length of the

towing-line as the heat grew greater, and of a fear I had that the

rope would separate, or that the mysterious hand that was the author

of the misfortunes would cut the line.

I told of the long nights without sleep, while, with our few

available men, we tried to work the Ella back to land; of guarding

the after house; of a hundred false alarms that set our nerves

quivering and our hearts leaping. And I made them feel, I think,

the horror of a situation where each man suspected his neighbor,

feared and loathed him, and yet stayed close by him because a known

danger is better than an unknown horror.