‘What have we there?’ said I, bringing Braine’s old leather telescope out of the companion and putting my eye to it. ‘A squab old whaler, as I may suppose by her boats; Cape Horn topgallant-masts; a sawed-off square sea-wagon after the true Nantucket pattern.’ ‘I’ve been a-waiting for you to come on deck,’ said the carpenter. ‘We don’t want to run her down. We’ve got nothen to say to her, and so ‘ud better keep out of hail. Shift the course, will you, sir?’ There was nothing in the _sir_ to qualify the offensive tone of command with which he addressed me. I looked at him fixedly, taking care, however, to keep a good grip on my temper. ‘What are you afraid of?’ I asked. ‘Are any of the crew likely to hail her if we pass within speaking distance?’ ‘I’d like to know what man there is amongst us as ‘ud have the courage to do it,’ he exclaimed, his face darkening to the thought, and his eyes travelling up and down my body, as though in search of some part on which to settle. ‘Why do you wait for me to shift the helm, man?’ said I. ‘The navigation’s in your hands,’ he answered sullenly; ‘if your calculations don’t turn out correct, it musn’t be because of any man a-meddling with the course whilst you was below.’ Miss Temple at this moment arrived on deck and joined me. ‘A pity to run away,’ said I; ‘we’re sailing three feet to that chap’s one, and will be passing him like smoke. There’s been nothing to look at for a long time. It’ll be a treat to our shore-going eyes to see a strange face, though we catch but a glimpse. You don’t think _I’ll_ hail her, I hope?’ ‘_I_ hope!’ he responded with a coarse ironical sneer and a rude stare of suspicion. ‘By God, then!’ said I, with an effusion of temper I instantly regretted, ‘since you have forced this command upon me, I’ll take what privileges it confers, and be hanged to it! My orders are to keep the ship as she goes. If you disobey me, I’ll call the crew aft, and charge them to observe that any miscalculations in my navigation will be owing to your interference.’ The fellow scowled, and looked ahead at the vessel, and then at a knot of sailors who were standing at the galley, and I could see that he was at a loss; in fact, a minute after, never having spoken a word, during which time he frequently sent his gaze at the craft over the bow, he abruptly crossed to the lee side of the deck and fell to patrolling, coming now and again to a stand to leeward of the sailor at the helm, with whom he would exchange a few words, whilst he swayed on his rounded shanks, with his arms folded upon his breast, occasionally stooping to obtain a view of the whaler under the curve of the fore-course.