In a few minutes a lantern flickered like an _ignis fatuus_ and threw out the sombre shapes of men as its gleam passed over the decks which rippled in faint sheets of phosphoric light. He who bore it was the carpenter. When he came to the pump he handed it to a seaman whilst he dropped the sounding-rod down the well. The light was yellow, and the figures of the fellows who were pumping and the stooping form of the carpenter stood out of the gloom like an illuminated painting in a crypt. A foot or two of water gushing from the pump sparkled freely to where the darkness cut it off. Against the glittering lights in the sky you saw the ink-like outlines of men dangling upon the yards, rolling up the canvas. I watched the carpenter pore upon the rod to mark the height to which the wet rose; he then came on to the poop and spoke to Vanderdecken in a voice too low for me to catch what he said. Imogene had left me ten minutes before, and I stood alone in the deeper shade made in the gloom upon the poop by the mizzen-rigging. The beating of my heart was painful with anxiety. From one moment to another I could not tell what the next order might be, and if ever I seemed to feel a breath of air upon my hot temples, I trembled with the fear that it was the forerunner of a breeze. As it stood, 'twas such a night to escape in that my deepest faith in God's mercy had never durst raise my hopes to the height of its beauty and stillness. On the opposite side of the poop slowly walked Vanderdecken; in the starlight such of his skin as showed was as white as wax; he sometimes looked aloft at the men there, sometimes around at the ocean, sometimes coming to a stand to mark the gradual swinging of the ship that was now influenced by some early trickling of tide or by the motions of the small heaving in the sea, or by some ghostly whisperings of air overhead. Ten minutes passed. Though the ship was full of business, not a sound broke from the men, and the hush you felt upon the dark line of shore would have been upon the vessel but for the clanking jerks of the pump-brake and the noise of flowing water. A figure came up the poop-ladder and softly approached. It was Imogene. I lightly called and she came to my side in the shadow. "What are they doing?" she asked. "They are furling the sails; nothing more as yet," I answered. "Will they endeavour to lift the leak out of water to-night?" "Dearest, I am waiting to see what they mean to do." "I will ask Vanderdecken," said she, "he always answers my questions." I seized her hand. "No! He may suspect I sent you. Let us walk carelessly here and there. Lurking in the shadow might give an air of conspiracy to the prattle of infants to the suspicions of such a mind as his." We moved towards the taffrail--the helm was lashed and abandoned--and then quietly to and fro, speaking under our breath. "Geoffrey, we may find no water to drink when we get on shore; have you provided for that?" she said.