Chapter 9
October 19th.—Eveything, then, is clear. The uneasiness of the crew, their frequent conferences, Owen’s mysterious words, the constant scourings of the deck and the oppressive heat of the cabins which had been noticed even by my fellow-passengers, all are explained.
After his grave communication, Curtis remained silent. I shivered with a thrill of horror; a calamity the most terrible that can befall a voyager stared me in the face, and it was some seconds before I could recover sufficient composure to inquire when the fire was first discovered.
“Six days ago,” replied the mate.
“Six days ago!” I exclaimed; “why, then, it was that night.”
“Yes,” he said, interrupting me; “it was the night you heard the disturbance upon deck. The men on watch noticed a slight smoke issuing fro
