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
He rounded on his heel, and sat upon the skylight, and gazed at the
dying lights in the west. What could be more sane than this man's
answers to the boatswain? Hardy had overheard them, and perplexity
was deepened in him. Who was going to convince the sailors that their
captain was mad unless he talked to them as he did to him and Julia?
And the captain sat looking at the dimming glory, and did not seem to
remember that he had been conversing with the girl, or to know that she
had left him.
It was fine weather throughout that night, and the moon shone, and
the heaven of stars swarmed in sparkling hosts toward the grave of
the sun until the pallor of the dawn, like the face of the risen
Christ, put out those fires of the dark; the ship, bathed in the
ice-white radiance, stole phantom-like over the boundless cemetery
of the drowned, the perished sailors whose tombstones were in every
breaking surge. All had been quiet aboard that stealing ship, clad to
her trucks in the raiment of her day. The captain would pass a long
time in his cabin, then appear on deck, and walk it for a little space
self-engrossed; and it seemed to Hardy when his watch came round, and
when the captain showed himself, that the man's isolation and silence
expressed, perhaps, a still dim but growing perception of the fate of
his little boy, in which case the delusion would leave him, and his
mind recover at least the strength it possessed when they made sail in
the English Channel.
When the sun rose the ocean rolled in mackerel-tinted mounds, and the
ship swayed as she floated onwards at about five knots. Stu'nsails had
been set by order of the captain when he came on deck at dawn, and,
whitening the air on high, the swelling cloths carried the sight to the
heavens, which arched in a miracle of motionless feathers of cloud,
a glorious canopy of delicate plumes, in sweet keeping with the airy
graces of the queenly fabric which proudly bowed upon its mighty throne.
A sail was in sight on the starboard bow, and in two hours she would
be abreast. The Newfoundland, coming on deck with the captain when the
light broke, instantly barked its report of her, and now, a little
after eight, Hardy was viewing her through the ship's telescope; for
the sane instructions which had reached him were, that the four men
were to be transferred to the first ship which would receive them.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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