The Mate of the Good Ship York; Or, The Ship's AdventureRussell, William Clark
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The Mate of the Good Ship York; Or, The Ship's Adventure
Russell, William Clark
English fiction -- 20th century; Sea stories
But the captain was too mad to understand this, and Julia was a girl at
sea without eyes for bights of running gear. She was startled, nay, a
sudden horror of superstition visited her when following the captain.
She stood near the bell and saw no signs of human creature. She cast
looks of fear all about; one, even one, man would protect her against
the horrible yokedom of this passage. The planks had the sheen of satin
in the moonlight, and the power of the satellite sufficed to fling dark
shadows upon the decks, and these shadows moved as the brig rolled. But
she saw no man; and what ghostly hand then had struck that bell? For
the night might go before the swing of the bight of gear should, by
adjustment of the rolling of the vessel, exactly hit the bell again and
make it ring.
The captain began to call, "Johnny, Johnny, where are you? Come out of
your hiding-place, little sonny. Here's father waiting for you."
He breathed deep, listening and gazing about him; but no other reply
reached his ear than the sob of water under the bow, the moan of night
wind in the rigging, the sullen slap of canvas against the mast.
"Do you see him?" the captain asked, and the eyes of madness sparkled
in the moonshine as he turned his gaze upon the girl.
She answered, huskily, "No, I do not see him. Who struck that bell?"
"He did," said the captain. "O God! O everlasting Father! Why does he
hide himself from me?"
He clasped his hands and raised them and looked up, and in that posture
he muttered as though he prayed, and all the while Julia was staring
about her, faint with fear, and with the sight of that imploring figure
of afflicted manhood; for who had struck the bell? And did the dead
come to life again in phantoms? And was the spirit of Johnny invisibly
present?
Poor Julia!
"He may come out of his hiding-place if we go aft," said the captain in
his voice of cunning. "Stop!"
He stepped to the little caboose and entered it.
"Not here, not here," he groaned as he came out, "but we must have
patience. We will sit and wait. We'll sit and watch the deck, and at
any moment you may see his little figure coming along."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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