At the first shout Lovaas, with surprising speed for a man of his bulk, had leapt to his feet and reached the door. ‘Hvar er hendt?’ he roared.
Over his shoulder I caught a glimpse of a man whose face was running in blood looking up from the rail below. ‘Del er Schreuder,’ he shouted back. Then he pointed over the starboard rail. ‘Han unnslapp og hoppet overbord.’
‘De fordomte udugelig idiot’.’ Lovaas roared and swung himself on to the bridge ladder.
‘What’s happened?’ I asked as I followed him.
‘Schreuder,’ he answered. ‘He’s escaped and dived overboard.’ He flung open the door to the bridge. The mate was there, peering through binoculars. ‘Kan De se ham?’ Lovaas demanded.
‘AW,’ the mate answered. And then suddenly: ‘Jo, Jo — der borte’
I followed the direction of his arm. On the edge of the mist’s visibility a black blob showed for an instant on the colourless surface of the sea. Then.it was gone. ‘Full fan forover babord motor. Full fart akterover styrbord motor.’ Lovaas was peering into the opaque void. ‘Roret hardt over til babord, Henrik' Again I saw the black blob as our bows swung. It turned and looked back and I saw then that it was a man’s head. He raised his arms out of the water. He was struggling to get clear of his clothes. Then the head vanished. I had no idea what the temperature of the water was. But I knew it must be pretty cold. No man would try such a swim in these waters unless he were desperate. And at the moment that he had disappeared he had been heading out to sea. The poor wretch must have lost his sense of direction. From where I stood, balancing myself to the heel of the ship as she turned, I could see the vague shape of the island. But from water-level it was probably invisible.
I glanced quickly at Lovaas. He was peering into the mist at the point where the man’s head had disappeared. The fierce grip of his hand on the edge of the bridge betrayed his impatience at the slowness of the turn. I glanced down at Diviner straining at the warps that secured her to the catcher. If we could pick Schreuder up and not Lovaas … I was down the ladder in a flash. ‘Dick! Curtis!’ I shouted. ‘Cut her clear. Quick!’
I heard Lovaas bellowing in Norwegian to his crew as I slipped across the engine-room hatches and down the ladder to her main deck. Somebody tried to bar my way at the foot of the ladder. I lashed out with my foot and then jumped straight over on to Diviner’s deck. Dick and Wilson each had an axe. Two blows severed the warps and as I picked myself up off the deck, the engines started and we drew clear of the catcher.
Lovaas was out on the catwalk. He shook his fist at me as he hurried down to the bows to act as lookout. I saw his hand touch the heavy harpoon gun and then he glanced across at us. ‘Hard a’port!’ I shouted to Jill who was at the wheel.
‘Hard a’port it is,’ she answered and we swung away. I wanted to get well clear of the catcher. The rage of the man was obvious even though the distance between us was rapidly widening. I wondered what he would do if we succeeded in picking up Schreuder.
But we didn’t succeed. And nor did Lovaas. The two of us cruised back and forth over that little area of sea a hundred times.
But we saw no sign of Schreuder — only his discarded jacket floating half submerged with the sleeves held out like a man drowned. There was not a breath of wind. The sea was like glass. And the mist was so thick we were often out of sight of the catcher. I had a bucket of sea water brought up and dipped my hand in. It was as cold as ice. No man could live for long in water that cold. After half an hour I gave up and followed the catcher as it made off slowly through the mist to Bovaagen Hval.
As we left the spot I saw Jill gazing over the stern. ‘If only we could have saved him,’ she said. ‘He could have told us so much. I’m sure he could.’ She turned suddenly to me.
‘What do you think happened up there on the Jostedal?’
‘I don’t know,’ I said. The less she thought about it the better.
‘But something must have happened,’ she murmured. ‘He was there with George. And then after — the accident — he tries to make for England. He’s afraid to stay in Norway. So afraid that he’s willing to take a chance in that icy water. And those samples of ore. He must have taken them from George’s body. Bill!’ She caught at my arm and her voice was tense. ‘Do you think — do you think he killed George?’
‘I d6n’t know what to think,’ I replied. I didn’t look at her. I didn’t want to see that hurt expression in her eyes.
‘Well, whatever he did,’ Curtis said, ‘the poor devil’s dead now. And we’ll never know the truth of what happened.’ He turned and gazed aft. ‘Hallo! Mist’s lifting a bit. I wonder what happened to those two boats?’
‘What two boats?’ I asked.
