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oracle behind a veil.... — ”Stop ashore — — — sick. — — — -Instead — — — bringing all this head wind. Afraid. The sea will have her own. — — — Die in sight of land. Always so. They know it — — — long passage — — — more days, more dollars. — — — You — — ”
He seemed to wake up from a dream. “You can’t help yourselves,” he said, austerely, “Skipper’s no fool. He has something in his mind. Look out — say! I know ‘em!” With eyes fixed in front he turned his head from right to left, from left to right, as if inspecting a long row of astute skippers. — ”‘Ee said ‘ee would brain me!” cried Donkin in a heartrending tone. Singleton peered downwards with puzzled attention, as though he couldn’t find him. — ”Damn you!” he said, vaguely, giving it up. He radiated unspeakable wisdom, hard unconcern, the chilling air of resignation. Round him all the listeners felt themselves somehow completely enlightened by their disappointment, and mute, they lolled about with the careless ease of men who can discern perfectly the irremediable aspect of their existence. He, profound and unconscious, waved his arm once, and strode out on deck without another word.
Belfast was lost in a round-eyed meditation. One or two vaulted heavily into upper berths, and, once there, sighed; others dived head first inside lower bunks — swift, and turning round instantly upon themselves, like animals going into lairs. The grating of a knife scraping burnt clay was heard. Knowles grinned no more. Davis said, in a tone of ardent conviction: “Then our skipper’s looney.” Archie muttered: “My faith! we haven’t heard the last of it yet!” Four bells were struck. — ”Half our watch below gone!” cried Knowles in alarm, then reflected. “Well, two hours’ sleep is something towards a rest,” he observed, consolingly. Some already pretended to slumber; and Charley, sound asleep, suddenly said a few slurred words in an arbitrary, blank voice. — ”This blamed boy has worrums!” commented Knowles from under a blanket, in a learned manner. Belfast got up and approached Archie’s berth. — ”We pulled him out,” he whispered, sadly. — ”What?” said the other, with sleepy discontent. — ”And now we will have to chuck him overboard,” went on Belfast, whose lower lip trembled. — ”Chuck what?” asked Archie. — ”Poor Jimmy,” breathed out Belfast. — ”He be blowed!” said Archie with untruthful brutality, and sat up in his bunk; “It’s all through him. If it hadn’t been for me, there would have been murder on board this ship!” — ”‘Tain’t his fault, is it?” argued Belfast, in a murmur; “I’ve put him to bed... an’ he ain’t no heavier than an empty beef-cask,” he added, with tears in his eyes. Archie looked at him steadily, then turned his nose to the ship’s side with determination. Belfast wandered about as though he had lost his way in the dim forecastle, and nearly fell over Donkin. He contemplated him from on high for a while. “Ain’t ye going to turn in?” he asked. Donkin looked up hopelessly. — ”That black’earted Scotch son of a thief kicked me!” he whispered from the floor, in a tone of utter desolation. — ”And a good job, too!” said Belfast, still very depressed; “You were as near hanging as damn-it to-night, sonny. Don’t you play any of your murthering games around my Jimmy! You haven’t pulled him out. You just mind! ‘Cos if I start to kick you” — he brightened up a bit — ”if I start to kick you, it will be Yankee fashion — to break something!” He tapped lightly with his knuckles the top of the bowed head. “You moind that, my bhoy!” he concluded, cheerily. Donkin let it pass. — ”Will they split on me?” he asked, with pained anxiety. — ”Who — split?” hissed Belfast, coming back a step. “I would split your nose this minyt if I hadn’t Jimmy to look after! Who d’ye think we are?” Donkin rose and watched Belfast’s back lurch through the doorway. On all sides invisible men slept, breathing calmly. He seemed to draw courage and fury from the peace around him. Venomous and thin-faced, he glared from the ample misfit of borrowed clothes as if looking for something he could smash. His heart leaped wildly in his narrow chest. They slept! He wanted to wring necks, gouge eyes, spit on faces. He shook a dirty pair of meagre
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