"Yes," I said. "Poor beggars."

We reached the other men, and they opened out, and allowed us to get near the door. Several of them asked in low tones, whether Jacobs was all right, and I told them, "Yes"; not saying anything then about his condition.

I got close up to the doorway, and looked into the berth. The lamp was lit, and I could see, plainly. There were two bunks in the place, and a man had been laid in each. The Skipper was there, leaning up against a bulkshead. He looked worried; but was silent--seeming to be mooding in his own thoughts. The Second Mate was busy with a couple of flags, which he was spreading over the bodies. The First Mate was talking, evidently telling him something; but his tone was so low that I caught his words only with difficulty. It struck me that he seemed pretty subdued. I got parts of his sentences in patches, as it were.

"...broken," I heard him say. "And the Dutchman...."

"I've seen him," the Second Mate said, shortly.

"Two, straight off the reel," said the Mate "...three in...."

The Second made no reply.

"Of course, yer know ... accident." The First Mate went on.

"Is it!" the Second said, in a queer voice.

I saw the Mate glance at him, in a doubtful sort of way; but the Second was covering poor old Jock's dead face, and did not appear to notice his look.

"It--it--" the mate said, and stopped.

After a moment's hesitation, he said something further, that I could not catch; but there seemed a lot of funk in his voice.

The Second Mate appeared not to have heard him; at any rate, he made no reply; but bent, and straightened out a corner of the flag over the rigid figure in the lower bunk. There was a certain niceness in his action which made me warm towards him.

"He's white!" I thought to myself.

Out loud, I said:

"We've put Jacobs into his bunk, Sir."

The Mate jumped; then whizzed round, and stared at me as though I had been a ghost. The Second Mate turned also; but before he could speak, the Skipper took a step towards me.

"Is he all right?" he asked.

"Well, Sir," I said. "He's a bit queer; but I think it's possible he may be better, after a sleep."

"I hope so, too," he replied, and stepped out on deck. He went towards the starboard p.o.o.p ladder, walking slowly. The Second went and stood by the lamp, and the Mate, after a quick glance at him, came out and followed the Skipper up on to the p.o.o.p. It occurred to me then, like a flash, that the man had stumbled upon a portion of the _truth_. This accident coming so soon after that other! It was evident that, in his mind, he had connected them. I recollected the fragments of his remarks to the Second Mate. Then, those many minor happenings that had cropped up at different times, and at which he had sneered. I wondered whether he would begin to comprehend their significance--their beastly, sinister significance.

"Ah! Mr. Bully-Mate," I thought to myself. "You're in for a bad time if you've begun to understand."

Abruptly, my thoughts jumped to the vague future before us.

"G.o.d help us!" I muttered.

The Second Mate, after a look round, turned down the wick of the lamp, and came out, closing the door after him.

"Now, you men," he said to the Mate's watch, "get forrard; we can't do anything more. You'd better go and get some sleep."

"i, i, Sir," they said, in a chorus.

Then, as we all turned to go forrard, he asked if anyone had relieved the look-out.

"No, sir," answered Quoin.

"Is it yours?" the Second asked.

"Yes, Sir," he replied.

"Hurry up and relieve him then," the Second said.

"i, i, Sir," the man answered, and went forrard with the rest of us.

As we went, I asked Plummer who was at the wheel.

"Tom," he said.

As he spoke, several spots of rain fell, and I glanced up at the sky. It had become thickly clouded.

"Looks as if it were going to breeze up," I said.

"Yes," he replied. "We'll be shortenin' 'er down 'fore long."

"May be an all-hands job," I remarked.

"Yes," he answered again. "'Twon't be no use their turnin' in, if it is."

The man who was carrying the lantern, went into the fo'cas'le, and we followed.

"Where's ther one, belongin' to our side?" Plummer asked.

"Got smashed hupstairs," answered Stubbins.

"'ow were that?" Plummer inquired.

Stubbins hesitated.

"The Second Mate dropped it," I replied. "The sail hit it, or something."

The men in the other watch seemed to have no immediate intention of turning-in; but sat in their bunks, and around on the chests. There was a general lighting of pipes, in the midst of which there came a sudden moan from one of the bunks in the forepart of the fo'cas'le--a part that was always a bit gloomy, and was more so now, on account of our having only one lamp.

"Wot's that?" asked one of the men belonging to the other side.

"S--sh!" said Stubbins. "It's him."

"'oo?" inquired Plummer. "Jacobs?"

"Yes," I replied. "Poor devil!"