My Shipmate Louise: The Romance of a Wreck, Volume 3 (of 3) — John Shaqi
My Shipmate Louise: The Romance of a Wreck, Volume 3 (of 3)Russell, William Clark
General
My Shipmate Louise: The Romance of a Wreck, Volume 3 (of 3)
Russell, William Clark
Sea stories; Shipwrecks -- Fiction
However, though he broke forth thus, he fell silent, and remained so
afterwards, became, indeed, extraordinarily meditative, and at mealtimes
scarcely opened his lips, though his stare grew more deliberate in
proportion as his reserve increased, until it came at last to his never
taking his eyes off one or the other of us. Again and again Miss Temple
would say to me that she was certain he had something on his mind, and
she looked frightened as she theorized upon his secret. Sometimes, when
on deck, I would observe him standing at the rail, gazing seaward, and
talking to himself, frequently snapping his fingers, whipping round, as
though suddenly conscious that he had talked aloud, then starting off in
a short, restless, unsteady walk, coming to an abrupt halt to again
mutter and to snap his fingers with the air of one laboring to form a
resolution.
It was on the afternoon of the second day of those two about which I
have spoken, and it was drawing on to six o’clock, four bells of the
first dog-watch. The captain had been on deck since four, and for the
last twenty minutes he had been standing a little to the right of the
fellow who was steering, eyeing me with an intentness that had a long
time before become embarrassing, and I may say distressing. Whenever I
turned my head towards him, I found his gaze fixed upon me. Miss Temple
and I were seated too near him to admit of our commenting upon the
singular regard that he was bestowing upon me. She contrived to whisper,
however, that she was certain his secret, whatever it was, was slowly
rising from the depths of his soul to the surface of his mind.
‘I seem to find a change in the man’s face,’ she said under her breath.
‘Let us walk, Mr. Dugdale. Such scrutiny as that is unbearable.’
As she spoke, four bells were struck forward. Mr. Lush, who was leaning
against his windlass end, knocked the ashes out of his pipe and slowly
came aft to relieve the deck. I rose to walk with Miss Temple as she had
proposed. Captain Braine called my name. He met me as I approached him,
and said: ‘I want to have a talk with you in my cabin.’
There was something in his manner that alarmed me. How shall I express
it? An air of uneasy exultation, as of a mind proud of the achievement
of a resolution at which the secret instincts tremble. For a moment I
hung in the wind, strongly reluctant to box myself up alone, unarmed as
I was, with a man whose insanity, to call it so, seemed stronger in him
at this moment than I had ever before observed it. But the carpenter had
now gained the poop; and the captain, on seeing him, instantly walked to
the companion, down which he went to midway the ladder, and there stood
waiting for me to follow him.
Tut, thought I, surely I am more than his match in strength, and I am on
my guard! As I put my foot on the ladder—the captain descending on
seeing me coming—I paused to lean over the cover and say to Miss Temple:
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