“‘He was fond of the sport, then?’ said I. “‘Ay,’ he answered, ‘he is famous for making short v’y’ges, and a bolder whaleman never went over a ship’s side—though he wasn’t bred to the work, either. He never let the chance slip before of having the first dash at a shoal, setting great store on a trick of his own, of pitchpoling a lance, that was very certain. He has killed two whales to the mate’s one, for the v’y’ge—though his boat was oftener under the carpenter’s hands—as he had a slap-dash way of laying on to a whale, which suited no other harpooner in the ship, but the wild islander who steers him.’ “‘He believed in the South-Sea-slogan,’ said I, ‘a dead whale, or a stove boat.’ “‘Just so,’ he replied, apparently beguiled of deeper thoughts, for an instant, by a natural interest in his profession; ‘and his boat’s crew were all pretty much of the same creed. Two of the fellows we had in irons below belong to it; and more troublesome rascals are not to be found in the ship. However, the difference between the captain and the mate in their boats, was this: the one was too headstrong, the other too cautious. Once within dart of a shoal, the captain would have three or four fish spouting blood, before the mate could clear away his lance; though Jinney was always more sure to get on to a single whale—an old schoolmaster, for instance—if you only gave him time; and he rarely had his boat struck. However,’ continued he, recurring to the point which, I could see, troubled him most, ‘I never dreamed that Jinney, cunning as he was, would have died in the strange way he did.’ “‘Why, Mr. Parker,’ said I, glad to find him falling back to his starting-point, ‘I have heard nothing, so far, to justify your suspicions of the captain. The ghost is out of the question, and as Catherton got along very well with his mate for two successive voyages as you say, I cannot see his motive for wishing Jinney out of the ship in the damnable way you point at.’ “‘Ay,’ said he solemnly, ‘but there was a motive—and a black one. Nothing will ever convince me to the contrary, but that the poor lady had foul play between the three of them—I mean her husband, the mate, and the mulatto steward.’ “‘The devil!’ I broke out, staring him full in the face, with a confused remembrance of some strange thoughts of my own in my mind. ‘What on earth put that horrid notion in your head?’