Complete Works

hands, and Jimmy. His heart overflowed with tenderness, with comprehension, with the desire to meddle, with anxiety for the soul of that black man, with the pride of possessed eternity, with the feeling of might. Snatch him up in his arms and pitch him right into the middle of salvation... The black soul — blacker — body — rot — Devil. No! Talk-strength — Samson.... There was a great din as of cymbals in his ears; he flashed through an ecstatic jumble of shining faces, lilies, prayer-books, unearthly joy, white skirts, gold harps, black coats, wings. He saw flowing garments, clean shaved faces, a sea of light — a lake of pitch. There were sweet scent, a smell of sulphur — red tongues of flame licking a white mist. An awesome voice thundered!... It lasted three seconds.
    “Jimmy!” he cried in an inspired tone. Then he hesitated. A spark of human pity glimmered yet through the infernal fog of his supreme conceit.
    “What?” said James Wait, unwillingly. There was a silence. He turned his head just the least bit, and stole a cautious glance. The cook’s lips moved without a sound; his face was rapt, his eyes turned up. He seemed to be mentally imploring deck beams, the brass hook of the lamp, two cockroaches.
    “Look here,” said Wait, “I want to go to sleep. I think I could.”
    “This is no time for sleep!” exclaimed the cook, very loud. He had prayerfully divested himself of the last vestige of his humanity. He was a voice — a fleshless and sublime thing, as on that memorable night — the night when he went walking over the sea to make coffee for perishing sinners. “This is no time for sleeping,” he repeated with exaltation. “I can’t sleep.”
    “Don’t care damn,” said Wait, with factitious energy. “I can. Go an’ turn in.”
    “Swear... in the very jaws!... In the very jaws! Don’t you see the everlasting fire... don’t you feel it? Blind, chockfull of sin! Repent, repent! I can’t bear to think of you. I hear the call to save you. Night and day. Jimmy, let me save you!” The words of entreaty and menace broke out of him in a roaring torrent. The cockroaches ran away. Jimmy perspired, wriggling stealthily under his blanket. The cook yelled.... “Your days are numbered!... “ — ”Get out of this,” boomed Wait, courageously. — ”Pray with me!... “ — ”I won’t!...” The little cabin was as hot as an oven. It contained an immensity of fear and pain; an atmosphere of shrieks and moans; prayers vociferated like blasphemies and whispered curses. Outside, the men called by Charley, who informed them in tones of delight that there was a holy row going on in Jimmy’s place, crowded before the closed door, too startled to open it. All hands were there. The watch below had jumped out on deck in their shirts, as after a collision. Men running up, asked: — ”What is it?” Others said: — ”Listen!” The muffled screaming went on: — ”On your knees! On your knees!” — ”Shut up!” — ”Never! You are delivered into my hands.... Your life has been saved.... Purpose.... Mercy.... Repent.” — ”You are a crazy fool!...” — ”Account of you... you... Never sleep in this world, if I...” — ”Leave off.” — ”No!... stokehold... only think!...” Then an impassioned screeching babble where words pattered like hail. — ”No!” shouted Wait. — ”Yes. You are!... No help.... Everybody says so.” — ”You lie!” — ”I see you dying this minnyt... before my eyes... as good as dead already.” — ”Help!” shouted Jimmy, piercingly. — ”Not in this valley.... look upwards,” howled the other. — ”Go away! Murder! Help!” clamoured Jimmy. His voice broke. There were moanings, low mutters, a few sobs.
    “What’s the matter now?” said a seldom-heard voice. — ”Fall back, men! Fall back, there!” repeated Mr. Creighton, sternly, pushing through. — ”Here’s the old man,” whispered some. — ”The cook’s in there, sir,” exclaimed several, backing away. The door clattered open; a broad stream of light darted out on wondering faces; a warm whiff of vitiated air passed. The two mates towered head and shoulders above the spare, grey-haired man who stood revealed between them, in shabby clothes, stiff and angular, like a small carved figure, and with a thin, composed face. The cook got up from his knees. Jimmy sat high in the bunk, clasping his drawn-up legs. The tassel of the blue night-cap almost