FullReads

“A man came and relieved me. Wondering what was up now, I went aft, and the skipper and two mates met me at the break of the poop.

“‘You get up there to the weather maintopsail yard arm, you —- blind-eyed farmer,’ snarled the skipper, ‘and keep your lookout there! D’ye hear? I saw that light ten minutes before you sang out.’

“‘I reported it as soon as I saw it, sir,’ I answered civilly.

“‘None o’ your lip! Get up there! And say–‘

“I had answered and turned, in no way bothered by the change. I was to put in the rest of the night on the yard; but I could sit down and rest my bones.

“The skipper modified this. ‘You keep your lookout there, and when the bell strikes, you call out, “All’s well, weather maintopsail yard arm!” Then you flap your arms like wings, and crow like a rooster, and, you say, “God bless Captain Black, and Mr. Macklin, and Mr. Parker!” D’you hear?’

“‘Yes, sir,’ I said, and went aloft, boiling over with humiliation and rage. Of what use was life, I thought, and success at sea if it was to be bought at such a price in manhood and self-respect? The more I thought of it the stronger grew my resolve to end it in some way.

“It was the man at the wheel who showed me the way. He was a hot-tempered Irishman, a good seaman; but an indifferent helmsman. He had put the ship off a couple of points at the skipper’s order, so as to pass under the stern of the ship ahead, and had some trouble in steadying to the new course. He came in for a round of abuse from the three, and at last was relieved, while the skipper gave him instructions similar to mine. He was to take the lee maintopsail yard, call out the bells when struck on deck, and conclude with the cock-crow and blessing on his lords and masters. I heard his furious curses as he reached the yard and slid out to leeward.

“We passed under the stern of the other ship, and I judged by her rig that she was beating her way west, possibly to New York or Boston. As she dropped out of sight astern, eight bells struck on deck. The lookout on the forecastle called out, ‘Eight bells, t’gallant fo’cas’le! All’s well!’ in the peculiar singsong they have in that trade. I repeated my call from the weather yard arm; but I left out the crow and the prayer for blessings. The skipper and mates were looking up at me, and I saw that the first was about to sing out something; but Casey over to leeward interrupted.

“‘Eight bells!’ he called. ‘See maintopsail yard arm. All’s well, an’ blankety blank yer black hearts and cowardly sools to damnation, Captain Black, Mister Macklin, an’ Mister Parker!’

“‘What’s that–what?’ stuttered the skipper. ‘Weather yard arm there! What do you say?’

“‘Go to hell!’ I answered furiously.

“The skipper was near his cabin window, and I saw him reach within. Casey, over to leeward, filled the night with his imprecations. He called down, not blessings, but the tortures of the damned on his tormentors, and attracted the skipper’s attention from me. When he stood up he held a short-barreled rifle, and with this he took careful aim at Casey. Then there was a spat of flame, a report, a puff of smoke floating over the house, and Casey, an oath stopped on his lips, sprawled downward into the sea.

“The watch had been called, and appeared in time to see this. I heard the explosive but muttered comments, and then a concerted snarl of hatred and rage as they rushed aft. But I paid no present attention to it. I had drawn my pistol, and was taking careful aim with my left hand at the captain, not so much determined by fear that I should be next as by a resolve, born of my emotions before the shooting, to bring things to an end.