And indeed the Author was just then beginning to write the words:
CHAPTER XXXIII.
II.--THE SINKING SHIP.
"Sir," said the first lieutenant, bursting into the Captain's cabin, "the
ship is going down."
"Very well, Mr. Spoker," said the Captain; "but that is no reason for
going about half-shaved. Exercise your mind a moment, Mr. Spoker, and
you will see that to the philosophic eye there is nothing new in our
position: the ship (if she is to go down at all) may be said to have been
going down since she was launched."
"She is settling fast," said the first lieutenant, as he returned from
shaving.
"Fast, Mr. Spoker?" asked the Captain. "The expression is a strange one,
for time (if you will think of it) is only relative."
"Sir," said the lieutenant, "I think it is scarcely worth while to embark
in such a discussion when we shall all be in Davy Jones's Locker in ten
minutes."
"By parity of reasoning," returned the Captain gently, "it would never be
worth while to begin any inquiry of importance; the odds are always
overwhelming that we must die before we shall have brought it to an end.
You have not considered, Mr. Spoker, the situation of man," said the
Captain, smiling, and shaking his head.
"I am much more engaged in considering the position of the ship," said
Mr. Spoker.
"Spoken like a good officer," replied the Captain, laying his hand on the
lieutenant's shoulder.
On deck they found the men had broken into the spirit-room, and were fast
getting drunk.
"My men," said the Captain, "there is no sense in this. The ship is
going down, you will tell me, in ten minutes: well, and what then? To
the philosophic eye, there is nothing new in our position. All our lives
long, we may have been about to break a blood-vessel or to be struck by
lightning, not merely in ten minutes, but in ten seconds; and that has
not prevented us from eating dinner, no, nor from putting money in the
Savings Bank. I assure you, with my hand on my heart, I fail to
comprehend your attitude."
The men were already too far gone to pay much heed.
"This is a very painful sight, Mr. Spoker," said the Captain.
"And yet to the philosophic eye, or whatever it is," replied the first
lieutenant, "they may be said to have been getting drunk since they came
aboard."
"I do not know if you always follow my thought, Mr. Spoker," returned the
Captain gently. "But let us proceed."
In the powder magazine they found an old salt smoking his pipe.
"Good God," cried the Captain, "what are you about?"
"Well, sir," said the old salt, apologetically, "they told me as she were
going down."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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