In this manner I fancied I could distinguish the precise moment when he
fairly disengaged the lid--also, that I could determine when he removed
it altogether, and when he deposited it upon the lower berth in his
room; this latter point I knew, for example, by certain slight taps
which the lid made in striking against the wooden edges of the berth, as
he endeavored to lay it down _very_ gently--there being no room for it
on the floor. After this there was a dead stillness, and I heard nothing
more, upon either occasion, until nearly daybreak; unless, perhaps, I
may mention a low sobbing, or murmuring sound, so very much suppressed
as to be nearly inaudible--if, indeed, the whole of this latter noise
were not rather produced by my own imagination. I say it seemed to
_resemble_ sobbing or sighing--but, of course, it could not have been
either. I rather think it was a ringing in my own ears. Mr. Wyatt, no
doubt, according to custom, was merely giving the rein to one of his
hobbies--indulging in one of his fits of artistic enthusiasm. He had
opened his oblong box, in order to feast his eyes on the pictorial
treasure within. There was nothing in this, however, to make him _sob_.
I repeat therefore, that it must have been simply a freak of my own
fancy, distempered by good Captain Hardy's green tea. Just before dawn,
on each of the two nights of which I speak, I distinctly heard Mr. Wyatt
replace the lid upon the oblong box, and force the nails into their old
places, by means of the muffled mallet. Having done this, he issued from
his stateroom, fully dressed, and proceeded to call Mrs. W. from hers.
We had been at sea seven days, and were now off Cape Hatteras, when
there came a tremendously heavy blow from the southwest. We were, in a
measure, prepared for it, however, as the weather had been holding out
threats for some time. Everything was made snug, alow and aloft; and as
the wind steadily freshened, we lay to, at length, under spanker and
foretopsail, both double-reefed.
In this trim, we rode safely enough for forty-eight hours--the ship
proving herself an excellent sea boat, in many respects, and shipping no
water of any consequence. At the end of this period, however, the gale
had freshened into a hurricane, and our after-sail split into ribbons,
bringing us so much in the trough of the water that we shipped several
prodigious seas, one immediately after the other. By this accident we
lost three men overboard with the caboose, and nearly the whole of the
larboard bulwarks. Scarcely had we recovered our senses, before the
foretopsail went into shreds when we got up a storm stay-sail, and with
this did pretty well for some hours, the ship heading the sea much more
steadily than before.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account