"No," said the Second Mate. "Not you, Plummer. Jessop, you take him." He
turned to the rest of the men. "That will do," he told them and they
went forrard, muttering a little.
I lifted the boy, and carried him aft.
"No need to take him into the berth," said the Second Mate. "Put him
down on the after hatch. I've sent the other lad for some brandy."
Then the brandy came, we dosed Tammy and soon brought him round. He sat
up, with a somewhat dazed air. Otherwise, he seemed quiet and sane
enough.
"What's up?" he asked. He caught sight of the Second Mate. "Have I been
ill, Sir?" he exclaimed.
"You're right enough now, youngster," said the Second Mate. "You've been
a bit off. You'd better go and lie down for a bit."
"I'm all right now, Sir," replied Tammy. "I don't think--"
"You do as you're told!" interrupted the Second. "Don't always have to
be told twice! If I want you, I'll send for you."
Tammy stood up, and made his way, in rather an unsteady fashion, into
the berth. I fancy he was glad enough to lie down.
"Now then, Jessop," exclaimed the Second Mate, turning to me. "What's
been the cause of all this? Out with it now, smart!"
I commenced to tell him; but, almost directly, he put up his hand.
"Hold on a minute," he said. "There's the breeze!"
He jumped up the port ladder, and sung out to the chap at the wheel.
Then down again.
"Starboard fore brace," he sung out. He turned to me. "You'll have to
finish telling me afterwards," he said.
"i, i, Sir," I replied, and went to join the other chaps at the braces.
As soon as we were braced sharp up on the port tack, he sent some of the
watch up to loose the sails. Then he sung out for me.
"Go on with your yarn now, Jessop," he said.
I told him about the great shadow vessel, and I said something about
Tammy--I mean about my not being sure _now_ whether he _had_ tried to
jump overboard. Because, you see, I began to realise that I had seen the
shadow; and I remembered the stirring of the water above the submerged
truck. But the Second did not wait, of course, for any theories, but was
away, like a shot, to see for himself. He ran to the side, and looked
down. I followed, and stood beside him; yet, now that the surface of the
water was blurred by the wind, we could see nothing.
"It's no good," he remarked, after a minute. "You'd better get away from
the rail before any of the others see you. Just be taking those halyards
aft to the capstan."
From then, until eight bells, we were hard at work getting the sail upon
her, and when at last eight bells went, I made haste to swallow my
breakfast, and get a sleep.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account