The cabin was very still, and the sharp rattle came without warning.

On the instant, with a brute roar, the chair was overturned and Borg was on his feet, eyes blazing and face convulsed.

Bella gave an inarticulate, animal-like cry of fear and cowered at his feet.

St.Vincent felt his hair bristling, and an uncanny chill, like a jet of cold air, played up and down his spine.
Then Borg righted the chair and sank back into his old position, chin on hands and brooding ponderously.

Not a word was spoken, and Bella went on unconcernedly with the dishes, while St.Vincent rolled, a shaky cigarette and wondered if it had been a dream.
Jacob Welse laughed when the correspondent told him.