"Don't know!" he shouted. "I should damned well think you don't.
Starboard your helm, you fool. You'll have us all aback!"
"i, i, Sir," I answered, and hove the wheel over. I did it almost
mechanically; for I was still dazed, and had not yet had time to collect
my senses.
During the following half-minute, I was only conscious, in a confused
sort of way, that the Old Man was ranting at me. This feeling of
bewilderment passed off, and I found that I was peering blankly into the
binnacle, at the compass-card; yet, until then, entirely without being
aware of the fact. Now, however, I saw that the ship was coming back on
to her course. Goodness knows how much she had been off!
With the realisation that I had let the ship get almost aback, there
came a sudden memory of the alteration in the position of the other
vessel. She had appeared last on the beam, instead of on the quarter.
Now, however, as my brain began to work, I saw the cause of this
apparent and, until then, inexplicable change. It was due, of course, to
our having come up, until we had brought the other packet on to the
beam.
It is curious how all this flashed through my mind, and held my
attention--although only momentarily--in the face of the Skipper's
storming. I think I had hardly realised he was still singing out at me.
Anyhow, the next thing I remember, he was shaking my arm.
"What's the matter with you, man?" he was shouting. And I just stared
into his face, like an ass, without saying a word. I seemed still
incapable, you know, of actual, reasoning speech.
"Are you damned well off your head?" he went on shouting. "Are you a
lunatic? Have you had sunstroke? Speak, you gaping idiot!"