A moment later I asked: "What ship is this?"
Doyle stared again. "The steamer City of Prague, bound from Liverpool to New York, three weeks out with a broken shaft. Principal passenger, Mr. Gordon Doyle; ditto lunatic, Mr. William Jarrett. These two distinguished travelers embarked together, but they are about to part, it being the resolute intention of the former to pitch the latter overboard."
I sat bolt upright. "Do you mean to say that I have been for three weeks a passenger on this steamer?"
"Yes, pretty nearly; this is the 3d of July."
"Have I been ill?"
"Right as a trivet all the time, and punctual at your meals."
"My God! Doyle, there is some mystery here; do have the goodness to be serious. Was I not rescued from the wreck of the ship Morrow?"
Doyle changed color, and approaching me, laid his fingers on my wrist. A moment later, "What do you know of Janette Harford?" he asked very calmly.
"First tell me what you know of her?"
Mr. Doyle gazed at me for some moments
