Thirty – EightThe engine room extended from the front of the superstructure to aft of the middle of the boat and looked as dark and felt as deep as Poe's famous pit. A finger of moonlight stealing in behind him, and a thin sliver of the same stealing in from the windows in the port doors opposite, were all Ben had by which to see. He had his flashlight but still he hesitated using it. The sounds of breathing, of movement had stopped. Stealthily he veered left, around the volute centrifugal dredge pump, and slowly, moved aft around the triple-expansion steam engine that powered the pump. He paused by the control banks, beside the rows of colored handles, beneath the maze of steam, water, and oil gauges and the pilothouse bells, used in their day to inform the engineer of the captain's desir
