“It’s like dealing with the devil,” he said. “Why don’t you speak? At first you were so high and mighty with me I hardly dared to creep about my own deck. Now I can’t get a word from you. You don’t seem to see me at all. What does it mean? Upon my soul, you terrify me with this deaf and dumb trick. What’s going on in that head of yours? What are you plotting against me there so hard that you can’t say a word? You will never make me believe that you--you--don’t know where to lay your hands on a couple of hundred. You have made me curse the day I was born. . . .” “Mr. Massy,” said Captain Whalley suddenly, without stirring. The engineer started violently. “If that is so I can only beg you to forgive me.” “Starboard,” muttered the Serang to the helmsman; and the Sofala began to swing round the bend into the second reach. “Ough!” Massy shuddered. “You make my blood run cold. What made you come here? What made you come aboard that evening all of a sudden, with your high talk and your money--tempting me? I always wondered what was your motive? You fastened yourself on me to have easy times and grow fat on my life blood, I tell you. Was that it? I believe you are the greatest miser in the world, or else why . . .” “No. I am only poor,” interrupted Captain Whalley, stonily. “Steady,” murmured the Serang. Massy turned away with his chin on his shoulder. “I don’t believe it,” he said in his dogmatic tone. Captain Whalley made no movement. “There you sit like a gorged vulture--exactly like a vulture.” He embraced the middle of the reach and both the banks in one blank unseeing circular glance, and left the bridge slowly. IX On turning to descend Massy perceived the head of Sterne the mate loitering, with his sly confident smile, his red mustaches and blinking eyes, at the foot of the ladder.