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little incident.
    But what was their interest? And why had they pretended to know nothing about the story last night? They knew more than I did—they had brought these papers with them. The sheets were creased and smudged and torn in places, as though they had been studied for weeks. It seemed now that they had come here precisely because of the captain's story, despite the fact that they claimed they had never heard it before. Why did they have to be so secretive?
    Sunlight poured through the window onto the fragrant unmade bed. I felt a slight chill. This was not the time to speculate about their motivation, I told myself. So they had some reason to be secretive. In that case, I had better finish reading now, while I had the chance.
    And if, perhaps, the poor soul had been less debilitated by the ravages of thirst and extreme fatigue, then perhaps some form of meaningful intercourse could have been established, so that, as we are widely ranging a group of seamen as is to be found on any ship that sails the seas, there might have been one among us who could have been enabled to deduce the origin of our unfortunate new companion. Yet is was not to be, for quickly he relapsed again into his somnolent state; and, though our ministrations had appeared to offer him some refreshment, as evidenced by the improved tone of his complexion, which, on his being brought aboard, had displayed a morbid greenish pallor underneath the pitiless fiery blandishments of the sun but was now of a more sanguine, almost lavender hue, his physical condition was as yet too dangerously tenuous to allow us to attempt to question him further; and, instead, I had him borne with utmost care to my own cabin; and there I had him installed with Ethan, my beloved, trusted, gentle Ethan, to tend to him, with his special loving simplicity, as I went about my already sorely interrupted duties.
    When I returned, my brother Ethan knelt upon the floor in an attitude of prayer. The shape on my bed was covered completely by bedclothes, and my first thought was that the foreigner had died of natural causes, and that my brother was praying for his soul. I was roused at once to anger. "And did I not instruct you to send word at once of any change in his condition?" I cried. But my brother remained crouched, his face hidden from me, a strange trinket clenched in his hand. "Why did you not heed me?" I demanded. "With my knowledge, I might have prolonged his life!" Still, my brother did not move or speak, adding more fire to my fury. "Speak, man! You are not deaf and dumb!" I bellowed, and shook him violently by his collar.
    And then my brother slowly turned to gaze upon me, and I perceived that he had not been praying but rather weeping like a babe. Yet, it was not sorrow that transformed his eyes, but horror, horror of such depth that it was as though he looked not upon my countenance, but upon the countenance of some fiend of the pit.
    His first feeble utterance was, "It is the Devil, the Devil, he revealed his true nature to me, Tobias. I had to do it. It is the Devil."
    Again, weeping overcame him. I pushed him aside with an oath and tore the bedclothes from the shape beneath. And there I—
     
    "But Manny, I'm about ten shades darker than you. Just look!" Zena cried from the front of the house. There was a burst of laughter, and footsteps on the small cement patio.
    If they had been driving, and I had heard the car approach, I would have had plenty of time to put things in order, and maybe even get out the back. As it was, I had no chance to open the correct drawer, rearrange its contents, and replace the document as I had found it. I didn't think much; I just shoved the papers into my back pocket and leapt off the bed and out of the room. It was bad enough to be discovered inside their house at all, but to be found snooping around in Zena's bedroom would be unthinkable. I would have to try to replace the locument later.
    When they marched through the front door