"Hold on a minute," he said. "There's the breeze!"
He jumped up the port ladder, and sung out to the chap at the wheel.
Then down again.
"Starboard fore brace," he sung out. He turned to me. "You'll have to
finish telling me afterwards," he said.
"i, i, Sir," I replied, and went to join the other chaps at the braces.
As soon as we were braced sharp up on the port tack, he sent some of the
watch up to loose the sails. Then he sung out for me.
"Go on with your yarn now, Jessop," he said.
I told him about the great shadow vessel, and I said something about
Tammy--I mean about my not being sure _now_ whether he _had_ tried to
jump overboard. Because, you see, I began to realise that I had seen the
shadow; and I remembered the stirring of the water above the submerged
truck. But the Second did not wait, of course, for any theories, but was
away, like a shot, to see for himself. He ran to the side, and looked
down. I followed, and stood beside him; yet, now that the surface of the
water was blurred by the wind, we could see nothing.
"It's no good," he remarked, after a minute. "You'd better get away from
the rail before any of the others see you. Just be taking those halyards
aft to the capstan."
From then, until eight bells, we were hard at work getting the sail upon
her, and when at last eight bells went, I made haste to swallow my
breakfast, and get a sleep.
At midday, when we went on deck for the afternoon watch, I ran to the
side; but there was no sign of the great shadow ship. All that watch,
the Second Mate kept me working at my paunch mat, and Tammy he put on to
his sinnet, telling me to keep an eye on the youngster. But the boy was
right enough; as I scarcely doubted now, you know; though--a most
unusual thing--he hardly opened his lips the whole afternoon. Then at
four o'clock, we went below for tea.
At four bells, when we came on deck again, I found that the light
breeze, which had kept us going during the day, had dropped, and we were
only just moving. The sun was low down, and the sky clear. Once or
twice, as I glanced across to the horizon, it seemed to me that I caught
again that odd quiver in the air that had preceded the coming of the
mist; and, indeed on two separate occasions, I saw a thin whisp of haze
drive up, apparently out of the sea. This was at some little distance on
our port beam; otherwise, all was quiet and peaceful; and though I
stared into the water, I could make out no vestige of that great shadow
ship, down in the sea.
It was some little time after six bells that the order came for all
hands to shorten sail for the night. We took in the royals and
t'gallants, and then the three courses. It was shortly after this, that
a rumour went round the ship that there was to be no look-out that night
after eight o'clock. This naturally created a good deal of talk among
the men; especially as the yarn went that the fo'cas'le doors were to be
shut and fastened as soon as it was dark, and that no one was to be
allowed on deck.
"'oo's goin' ter take ther wheel?" I heard Plummer ask.
"I s'pose they'll 'ave us take 'em as usual," replied one of the men.
"One of ther officers is bound ter be on ther poop; so we'll 'ave
company."
Apart from these remarks, there was a general opinion that--if it were
true--it was a sensible act on the part of the Skipper. As one of the
men said:
"It ain't likely that there'll be any of us missin' in ther mornin', if
we stays in our bunks all ther blessed night."
And soon after this, eight bells went.