At first I thought of knocking, then I remembered my ostensible errand and resolved to carry it out.

Carefully avoiding noise, I lifted the trap-door in the floor and set it to one side.

The slop-chest, as well as the provisions, was stored in the lazarette, and I took advantage of the opportunity to lay in a stock of underclothing.
As I emerged from the lazarette I heard sounds in Wolf Larsen's state-room.

I crouched and listened.

The door-knob rattled.