"No," I said, answering Tom's question, "you've had--" "Shut that, Jessop!" said the Second Mate, quickly, interrupting me. "I want to hear what the boy's got to say for himself." He turned again to Tom. "You were up at the fore royal," he prompted. "I carn't say I was, Sir," said Tom, doubtfully. I could see that he had not gripped the Second Mate's meaning. "But you were!" said the Second, with some impatience. "It was blowing adrift, and I sent you up to shove a gasket round it." "Blowin' adrift, Sir?" said Tom, dully. "Yes! blowing adrift. Don't I speak plainly?" The dullness went from Tom's face, suddenly. "So it was, Sir," he said, his memory returning. "The bloomin' sail got chock full of wind. It caught me bang in the face." He paused a moment. "I believe--" he began, and then stopped once more. "Go on!" said the Second Mate. "Spit it out!" "I don't know, Sir," Tom said. "I don't understand--" He hesitated again. "That's all I can remember," he muttered, and put his hand up to the bruise on his forehead, as though trying to remember something. In the momentary silence that succeeded, I caught the voice of Stubbins. "There hain't hardly no wind," he was saying, in a puzzled tone. There was a low murmur of assent from the surrounding men. The Second Mate said nothing, and I glanced at him, curiously. Was he beginning to see, I wondered, how useless it was to try to find any sensible explanation of the affair? Had he begun at last to couple it with that peculiar business of the man up the main? I am inclined _now_ to think that this was so; for, after staring a few moments at Tom, in a doubtful sort of way, he went out of the fo'cas'le, saying that he would inquire further into the matter in the morning. Yet, when the morning came, he did no such thing. As for his reporting the affair to the Skipper, I much doubt it. Even did he, it must have been in a very casual way; for we heard nothing more about it; though, of course, we talked it over pretty thoroughly among ourselves. With regard to the Second Mate, even now I am rather puzzled by his attitude to us aloft. Sometimes I have thought that he must have suspected us of trying to play off some trick on him--perhaps, at the time, he still half suspected one of us of being in some way connected with the other business. Or, again, he may have been trying to fight against the conviction that was being forced upon him, that there was really something impossible and beastly about the old packet. Of course, these are only suppositions. And then, close upon this, there were further developments. V _The End of Williams_