Sir. A green light. It was quite close.”
“I don’t understand,” he said again. “Run aft and ask the ’prentice to pass you down my night glasses. Be as smart as you can.”
“i, i, Sir,” I replied, and ran aft.
In less than a minute, I was back with his binoculars; and, with them, he stared for some time at the sea to leeward.
All at once he dropped them to his side, and faced round on me with a sudden question:
“Where’s she gone to? If she’s shifted her bearing as quickly as all that, she must be precious close. We should be able to see her spars and sails, or her cabin light, or her binnacle light, or something!”
“It’s queer, Sir,” I assented.
“Damned queer,” he said. “So damned queer that I’m inclined to think you’ve made a mistake.”
“No, Sir. I’m certain it was a light.”
“Where’s the ship then?” he asked.
“I can’t say, Sir. That’s just what’s been puzzling me.”
The Second said nothing in reply; but took a couple of quick turns across the fo’cas’le head — stopping at the port rail, and taking another look to leeward through his night glasses. Perhaps a minute he stood there. Then, without a word, he went down the lee ladder, and away aft along the main deck to the poop.
“He’s jolly well puzzled,” I thought to myself. “Or else he thinks I’ve been imagining things.” Either way, I guessed he’d think that.
In a little, I began to wonder whether, after all, he had any idea of what might be the truth. One minute, I would feel certain he had; and the next, I was just as sure that he guessed nothing. I got one of my fits of asking myself whether it would not have been better to have told him everything. It seemed to me that he must have seen sufficient to make him inclined to listen to me. And yet, I could not by any means be certain. I might only have been making an ass of myself, in his eyes. Or set him thinking I was dotty.
I was walking about the fo’cas’le head, feeling like this, when I saw the light for the third time. It was very bright and big, and I could see it move, as I watched. This again showed me that it must be very close.
“Surely,” I thought, “the Second Mate must see it now, for himself.”
I did not sing out this time, right away. I thought I would let the Second see for himself that I had not been mistaken. Besides, I was not going to risk its vanishing again, the instant I had spoken. For quite half a minute, I watched it, and there was no sign of its disappearing. Every moment, I expected to hear the Second Mate’s hail, showing that he had spotted it at last; but none came.
I could stand it no longer, and I ran to the rail, on the after part of the fo’cas’le head.
“Green light a little abaft the beam, Sir!” I sung out, at the top of my voice.
But I had waited too long. Even as I shouted, the light blurred and vanished.
I stamped my foot and swore. The thing was making a fool of me. Yet, I had a faint hope that those aft had seen it just before it disappeared; but this I knew was vain, directly I heard the Second’s voice.
“Light be damned!” he shouted.
Then he blew his whistle, and one of the men ran aft, out of the fo’cas’le, to see what it was he wanted.
“Whose next look-out is it?” I heard him ask.
“Jaskett’s, Sir.”
“Then tell Jaskett to relieve Jessop at once. Do you hear?”
“Yes, Sir,” said the man, and came forrard.
In a minute, Jaskett stumbled up onto the fo’cas’le head.
“What’s up, mate?” he asked sleepily.
“It’s that fool of a Second Mate!” I said, savagely. “I’ve reported a light to him three times, and, because the blind fool can’t see it, he’s sent you up to relieve me!”
“Where is it, mate?” he inquired.
He looked round at the dark sea.
“I don’t see no light,” he remarked, after a few moments.
“No,” I said. “It’s gone.”
“Eh?” he inquired.
“It’s gone!” I repeated, irritably.
He turned and regarded me silently, through the dark.
“I’d go an’ ’ave a sleep, mate,” he said, at length. “I’ve been that way meself. Ther’s nothin’ like a snooze w’en yer gets like that.”
“What!” I said. “Like what?”
“It’s all right, mate. Yer’ll be all right in ther mornin’. Don’t yer worry ’bout me.” His tone was sympathetic.
“Hell!” was all I said, and walked down off the fo’cas’le head. I wondered whether the old fellow thought I was going silly.
“Have a sleep, by Jove!” I muttered to myself. “I wonder who’d feel like having a sleep after what I’ve seen and stood today!”
I felt rotten, with no one understanding what was really the matter. I seemed to be all alone, through the things I had learnt. Then the thought came to me to go aft and talk the matter over with Tammy. I knew he would be able to understand, of course; and it would be such a relief.
On the impulse, I turned and went aft, along the deck to the ’prentices’ berth. As I neared the break of the poop, I looked up and saw the dark shape of the Second Mate, leaning over the rail above me.
“Who’s that?” he asked.
“It’s Jessop, Sir,” I said.
“What do you want in this part of the ship?” he inquired.
“I’d come aft to speak to Tammy, Sir,” I replied.
“You go along forrard and turn-in,” he said, not altogether unkindly. “A sleep will do you more good than yarning about. You know, you’re getting to fancy things too much!”
“I’m sure I’m not, Sir! I’m perfectly well. I—”
“That will do!” he interrupted, sharply. “You go and have a sleep.”
I gave a short curse, under my breath, and went slowly forrard. I was getting maddened with being treated as if I were not quite sane.
“By God!” I said to myself. “Wait till the fools know what I know — just wait!”
I entered the fo’cas’le, through the port doorway, and went across to my chest, and sat down. I felt angry and tired, and miserable.
Quoin and Plummer were sitting close by, playing cards, and smoking. Stubbins lay in his bunk, watching them, and also smoking. As I sat down, he put his head forward over the bunk-board, and regarded me in a curious, meditative way.
“What’s hup with ther Second hofficer?” he asked, after a short stare.
I looked at him, and the other two men looked up at me. I felt I should go off with a bang, if I did not say something, and I let out pretty stiffly, telling them the whole business. Yet, I had seen enough to know that it was no good trying to explain things; so I just told them the plain, bold facts, and left explanations as much alone as possible.
“Three times, you say?” said Stubbins when I had finished.
“Yes,” I assented.
“An’ ther Old Man sent yer from ther wheel this mornin’, ’cause yer ’appened ter see a ship ’e couldn’t,”