"What do you think of it, Williams?" I asked. "Do _you_ think the Second
Mate really saw anything?"
He looked at me, with a sort of gloomy suspicion; but said nothing.
I felt a trifle annoyed by his silence; but took care not to show it.
After a few moments, I went on.
"Do you know, Williams, I'm beginning to understand what you meant that
night, when you said there were too many shadows."
"Wot yer mean?" he said, pulling his pipe from out of his mouth, and
fairly surprised into answering.
"What I say, of course," I said. "There _are_ too many shadows."
He sat up, and leant forward out from his bunk, extending his hand and
pipe. His eyes plainly showed his excitement.
"'ave yer seen--" he hesitated, and looked at me, struggling inwardly to
express himself.
"Well?" I prompted.
For perhaps a minute he tried to say something. Then his expression
altered suddenly from doubt, and something else more indefinite, to a
pretty grim look of determination.
He spoke.
"I'm blimed," he said, "ef I don't tike er piy-diy out of 'er, shadders
or no shadders."