Complete Works

their simple faces lit up by the projected glare of Jimmy’s lamp. The little place, repainted white, had, in the night, the brilliance of a silver shrine where a black idol, reclining stiffly under a blanket, blinked its weary eyes and received our homage. Donkin officiated. He had the air of a demonstrator showing a phenomenon, a manifestation bizarre, simple, and meritorious that, to the beholders, should be a profound and an everlasting lesson. “Just look at ‘im, ‘ee knows what’s what — never fear!” he exclaimed now and then, flourishing a hand hard and fleshless like the claw of a snipe. Jimmy, on his back, smiled with reserve and without moving a limb. He affected the languor of extreme weakness, so as to make it manifest to us that our delay in hauling him out from his horrible confinement, and then that night spent on the poop among our selfish neglect of his needs, had “done for him.” He rather liked to talk about it, and of course we were always interested. He spoke spasmodically, in fast rushes with long pauses between, as a tipsy man walks.... “Cook had just given me a pannikin of hot coffee.... Slapped it down there, on my chest — banged the door to.... I felt a heavy roll coming; tried to save my coffee, burnt my fingers... and fell out of my bunk.... She went over so quick.... Water came in through the ventilator.... I couldn’t move the door... dark as a grave... tried to scramble up into the upper berth.... Rats... a rat bit my finger as I got up.... I could hear him swimming below me.... I thought you would never come... I thought you were all gone overboard... of course... Could hear nothing but the wind.... Then you came... to look for the corpse, I suppose. A little more and...”
    “Man! But ye made a rare lot of noise in here,” observed Archie, thoughtfully.
    “You chaps kicked up such a confounded row above.... Enough to scare any one.... I didn’t know what you were up to.... Bash in the blamed planks... my head.... Just what a silly, scary gang of fools would do.... Not much good to me anyhow.... Just as well... drown.... Pah.”
    He groaned, snapped his big white teeth, and gazed with scorn. Belfast lifted a pair of dolorous eyes, with a broken-hearted smile, clenched his fists stealthily; blue-eyed Archie caressed his red whiskers with a hesitating hand; the boatswain at the door stared a moment, and brusquely went away with a loud guffaw. Wamibo dreamed.... Donkin felt all over his sterile chin for the few rare hairs, and said, triumphantly, with a sidelong glance at Jimmy: — ”Look at ‘im! Wish I was ‘arf has ‘ealthy as ‘ee is — I do.” He jerked a short thumb over his shoulder towards the after end of the ship. “That’s the blooming way to do ‘em!” he yelped, with forced heartiness. Jimmy said: — ”Don’t be a dam’ fool,” in a pleasant voice. Knowles, rubbing his shoulder against the doorpost, remarked shrewdly: — ”We can’t all go an’ be took sick — it would be mutiny.” — ”Mutiny — gawn!” jeered Donkin, “there’s no bloomin’ law against bein’ sick.” — ”There’s six weeks’ hard for refoosing dooty,” argued Knowles, “I mind I once seed in Cardiff the crew of an overloaded ship — leastways she weren’t overloaded, only a fatherly old gentleman with a white beard and an umbreller came along the quay and talked to the hands. Said as how it was crool hard to be drownded in winter just for the sake of a few pounds more for the owner — he said. Nearly cried over them — he did; and he had a square mainsail coat, and a gaff-topsail hat too — all proper. So they chaps they said they wouldn’t go to be drownded in winter — depending upon that ‘ere Plimsoll man to see ‘em through the court. They thought to have a bloomin’ lark and two or three days’ spree. And the beak giv’ ‘em six weeks — coss the ship warn’t overloaded. Anyways they made it out in court that she wasn’t. There wasn’t one overloaded ship in Penarth Dock at all. ‘Pears that old coon he was only on pay and allowance from some kind people, under orders to look for overloaded ships, and he couldn’t see no further than the length of his umbreller. Some of us in the boarding-house, where I live when I’m looking for a ship in Cardiff, stood by to duck that old weeping spunger in the dock. We kept a good look-out, too — but he topped his boom directly he was outside the court.... Yes. They got six weeks’