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+<!DOCTYPE html>
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- <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" />
+ <meta charset="utf-8">
<title>
- The Nigger of the "Narcissus" by Joseph Conrad
+ The Nigger of the “Narcissus” by Joseph Conrad
</title>
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@@ -33,79 +29,42 @@
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-<pre xml:space="preserve">
-
-Project Gutenberg's The Nigger Of The "Narcissus", by Joseph Conrad
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
-almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
-re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
-with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
-
-
-Title: The Nigger Of The "Narcissus"
- A Tale Of The Forecastle
-
-Author: Joseph Conrad
-
-Release Date: February 9, 2006 [EBook #17731]
-Last Updated: March 2, 2018
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: UTF-8
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE NIGGER OF THE "NARCISSUS" ***
-
-
-
-
-Produced by David Widger
-
-
-
-
-
-</pre>
-
- <p>
- <br /> <br />
- </p>
+<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 17731 ***</div>
<h1>
- THE NIGGER<br /> of <br /> THE NARCISSUS
+ THE NIGGER<br > of <br > THE NARCISSUS
</h1>
<p>
- <br />
+ <br >
</p>
<h2>
- A TALE OF THE FORECASTLE <br /> <br /> BY JOSEPH CONRAD
+ A TALE OF THE FORECASTLE <br > <br > BY JOSEPH CONRAD
</h2>
<p>
- <br /> <br />
+ <br > <br >
</p>
<h3>
- COPYRIGHT, 1897, 1914,<br /> BY DOUBLEDAY, PAGE &amp; COMPANY <br /> <br />
- <br /> TO <br /> EDWARD GARNETT <br /> THIS TALE <br /> ABOUT MY FRIENDS <br />
+ COPYRIGHT, 1897, 1914,<br > BY DOUBLEDAY, PAGE &amp; COMPANY <br > <br >
+ <br > TO <br > EDWARD GARNETT <br > THIS TALE <br > ABOUT MY FRIENDS <br >
OF THE SEA
</h3>
<p>
- <br /> <br /> <br />
+ <br > <br > <br >
</p>
<h2>
TO MY READERS IN AMERICA
</h2>
<p>
- From that evening when James Wait joined the ship&mdash;late for the
- muster of the crew&mdash;to the moment when he left us in the open sea,
+ From that evening when James Wait joined the ship—late for the
+ muster of the crew—to the moment when he left us in the open sea,
shrouded in sailcloth, through the open port, I had much to do with him.
He was in my watch. A negro in a British forecastle is a lonely being. He
has no chums. Yet James Wait, afraid of death and making her his
- accomplice was an impostor of some character&mdash;mastering our
+ accomplice was an impostor of some character—mastering our
compassion, scornful of our sentimentalism, triumphing over our
suspicions.
</p>
<p>
- But in the book he is nothing; he is merely the centre of the ship's
+ But in the book he is nothing; he is merely the centre of the ship’s
collective psychology and the pivot of the action. Yet he, who in the
family circle and amongst my friends is familiarly referred to as the
Nigger, remains very precious to me. For the book written round him is not
@@ -113,7 +72,7 @@ Produced by David Widger
is the book by which, not as a novelist perhaps, but as an artist striving
for the utmost sincerity of expression, I am willing to stand or fall. Its
pages are the tribute of my unalterable and profound affection for the
- ships, the seamen, the winds and the great sea&mdash;the moulders of my
+ ships, the seamen, the winds and the great sea—the moulders of my
youth, the companions of the best years of my life.
</p>
<p>
@@ -123,69 +82,74 @@ Produced by David Widger
the pen I wrote a preface, trying to express the spirit in which I was
entering on the task of my new life. That preface on advice (which I now
think was wrong) was never published with the book. But the late W. E.
- Henley, who had the courage at that time (1897) to serialize my &ldquo;Nigger&rdquo;
+ Henley, who had the courage at that time (1897) to serialize my “Nigger”
in the <i>New Review</i> judged it worthy to be printed as an afterword at
the end of the last instalment of the tale.
</p>
<p>
I am glad that this book which means so much to me is coming out again,
- under its proper title of &ldquo;The Nigger of the 'Narcissus'&rdquo; and under the
+ under its proper title of “The Nigger of the ‘Narcissus’” and under the
auspices of my good friends and publishers Messrs. Doubleday, Page &amp;
Co. into the light of publicity.
</p>
<p>
Half the span of a generation has passed since W. E. Henley, after reading
- two chapters, sent me a verbal message: &ldquo;Tell Conrad that if the rest is
- up to the sample it shall certainly come out in the <i>New Review</i>.&rdquo;
- The most gratifying recollection of my writer's life!
+ two chapters, sent me a verbal message: “Tell Conrad that if the rest is
+ up to the sample it shall certainly come out in the <i>New Review</i>.”
+ The most gratifying recollection of my writer’s life!
</p>
<p>
And here is the Suppressed Preface.
</p>
<p>
- 1914. JOSEPH CONRAD. <br /> <br />
+ 1914. JOSEPH CONRAD. <br > <br >
</p>
- <hr />
+ <hr >
<p>
- <br /> <br />
+ <br > <br >
</p>
<h2>
Contents
</h2>
- <table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto">
+ <table style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto;">
<tr>
<td>
- <p class="toc">
<a href="#link2H_PREF"> PREFACE </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> THE NIGGER OF THE &ldquo;NARCISSUS&rdquo; </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>
<a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER ONE </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>
<a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER TWO </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>
<a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER THREE </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>
<a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER FOUR </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td>
<a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER FIVE </a>
- </p>
</td>
</tr>
</table>
<p>
- <br /> <br />
+ <br > <br >
</p>
- <hr />
+ <hr >
<p>
- <a name="link2H_PREF" id="link2H_PREF">
- <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> <br /> <br />
+ <a id="link2H_PREF">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> <br > <br >
</p>
<h2>
PREFACE
@@ -197,16 +161,16 @@ Produced by David Widger
universe, by bringing to light the truth, manifold and one, underlying its
every aspect. It is an attempt to find in its forms, in its colours, in
its light, in its shadows, in the aspects of matter and in the facts of
- life what of each is fundamental, what is enduring and essential&mdash;their
- one illuminating and convincing quality&mdash;the very truth of their
+ life what of each is fundamental, what is enduring and essential—their
+ one illuminating and convincing quality—the very truth of their
existence. The artist, then, like the thinker or the scientist, seeks the
truth and makes his appeal. Impressed by the aspect of the world the
- thinker plunges into ideas, the scientist into facts&mdash;whence,
+ thinker plunges into ideas, the scientist into facts—whence,
presently, emerging they make their appeal to those qualities of our being
that fit us best for the hazardous enterprise of living. They speak
authoritatively to our common-sense, to our intelligence, to our desire of
peace or to our desire of unrest; not seldom to our prejudices, sometimes
- to our fears, often to our egoism&mdash;but always to our credulity. And
+ to our fears, often to our egoism—but always to our credulity. And
their words are heard with reverence, for their concern is with weighty
matters: with the cultivation of our minds and the proper care of our
bodies, with the attainment of our ambitions, with the perfection of the
@@ -221,21 +185,21 @@ Produced by David Widger
deserving and fortunate, he finds the terms of his appeal. His appeal is
made to our less obvious capacities: to that part of our nature which,
because of the warlike conditions of existence, is necessarily kept out of
- sight within the more resisting and hard qualities&mdash;like the
+ sight within the more resisting and hard qualities—like the
vulnerable body within a steel armour. His appeal is less loud, more
- profound, less distinct, more stirring&mdash;and sooner forgotten. Yet its
+ profound, less distinct, more stirring—and sooner forgotten. Yet its
effect endures forever. The changing wisdom of successive generations
discards ideas, questions facts, demolishes theories. But the artist
appeals to that part of our being which is not dependent on wisdom; to
- that in us which is a gift and not an acquisition&mdash;and, therefore,
+ that in us which is a gift and not an acquisition—and, therefore,
more permanently enduring. He speaks to our capacity for delight and
wonder, to the sense of mystery surrounding our lives; to our sense of
pity, and beauty, and pain; to the latent feeling of fellowship with all
- creation&mdash;and to the subtle but invincible conviction of solidarity
+ creation—and to the subtle but invincible conviction of solidarity
that knits together the loneliness of innumerable hearts, to the
solidarity in dreams, in joy, in sorrow, in aspirations, in illusions, in
hope, in fear, which binds men to each other, which binds together all
- humanity&mdash;the dead to the living and the living to the unborn.
+ humanity—the dead to the living and the living to the unborn.
</p>
<p>
It is only some such train of thought, or rather of feeling, that can in a
@@ -246,9 +210,9 @@ Produced by David Widger
it becomes evident that there is not a place of splendour or a dark corner
of the earth that does not deserve, if only a passing glance of wonder and
pity. The motive then, may be held to justify the matter of the work; but
- this preface, which is simply an avowal of endeavour, cannot end here&mdash;for
- the avowal is not yet complete. Fiction&mdash;if it at all aspires to be
- art&mdash;appeals to temperament. And in truth it must be, like painting,
+ this preface, which is simply an avowal of endeavour, cannot end here—for
+ the avowal is not yet complete. Fiction—if it at all aspires to be
+ art—appeals to temperament. And in truth it must be, like painting,
like music, like all art, the appeal of one temperament to all the other
innumerable temperaments whose subtle and resistless power endows passing
events with their true meaning, and creates the moral, the emotional
@@ -260,7 +224,7 @@ Produced by David Widger
must also make its appeal through the senses, if its highest desire is to
reach the secret spring of responsive emotions. It must strenuously aspire
to the plasticity of sculpture, to the colour of painting, and to the
- magic suggestiveness of music&mdash;which is the art of arts. And it is
+ magic suggestiveness of music—which is the art of arts. And it is
only through complete, unswerving devotion to the perfect blending of form
and substance; it is only through an unremitting never-discouraged care
for the shape and ring of sentences that an approach can be made to
@@ -276,19 +240,19 @@ Produced by David Widger
prose. And if his conscience is clear, his answer to those who in the
fulness of a wisdom which looks for immediate profit, demand specifically
to be edified, consoled, amused; who demand to be promptly improved, or
- encouraged, or frightened, or shocked, or charmed, must run thus:&mdash;My
+ encouraged, or frightened, or shocked, or charmed, must run thus:—My
task which I am trying to achieve is, by the power of the written word to
- make you hear, to make you feel&mdash;it is, before all, to make you <i>see</i>.
- That&mdash;and no more, and it is everything. If I succeed, you shall find
- there according to your deserts: encouragement, consolation, fear, charm&mdash;all
- you demand&mdash;and, perhaps, also that glimpse of truth for which you
+ make you hear, to make you feel—it is, before all, to make you <i>see</i>.
+ That—and no more, and it is everything. If I succeed, you shall find
+ there according to your deserts: encouragement, consolation, fear, charm—all
+ you demand—and, perhaps, also that glimpse of truth for which you
have forgotten to ask. To snatch in a moment of courage, from the
remorseless rush of time, a passing phase of life, is only the beginning
of the task. The task approached in tenderness and faith is to hold up
unquestioningly, without choice and without fear, the rescued fragment
before all eyes in the light of a sincere mood. It is to show its
vibration, its colour, its form; and through its movement, its form, and
- its colour, reveal the substance of its truth&mdash;disclose its inspiring
+ its colour, reveal the substance of its truth—disclose its inspiring
secret: the stress and passion within the core of each convincing moment.
In a single-minded attempt of that kind, if one be deserving and
fortunate, one may perchance attain to such clearness of sincerity that at
@@ -298,13 +262,13 @@ Produced by David Widger
hope, in uncertain fate, which binds men to each other and all mankind to
the visible world. It is evident that he who, rightly or wrongly, holds by
the convictions expressed above cannot be faithful to any one of the
- temporary formulas of his craft. The enduring part of them&mdash;the truth
- which each only imperfectly veils&mdash;should abide with him as the most
+ temporary formulas of his craft. The enduring part of them—the truth
+ which each only imperfectly veils—should abide with him as the most
precious of his possessions, but they all: Realism, Romanticism,
Naturalism, even the unofficial sentimentalism (which like the poor, is
- exceedingly difficult to get rid of,) all these gods must, after a short
- period of fellowship, abandon him&mdash;even on the very threshold of the
- temple&mdash;to the stammerings of his conscience and to the outspoken
+ exceedingly difficult to get rid of), all these gods must, after a short
+ period of fellowship, abandon him—even on the very threshold of the
+ temple—to the stammerings of his conscience and to the outspoken
consciousness of the difficulties of his work. In that uneasy solitude the
supreme cry of Art for Art itself, loses the exciting ring of its apparent
immorality. It sounds far off. It has ceased to be a cry, and is heard
@@ -322,15 +286,15 @@ Produced by David Widger
efforts; we are disposed to condone the jar of his agitation upon the
restfulness of the landscape; and even, if in a brotherly frame of mind,
we may bring ourselves to forgive his failure. We understood his object,
- and, after all, the fellow has tried, and perhaps he had not the strength&mdash;and
- perhaps he had not the knowledge. We forgive, go on our way&mdash;and
+ and, after all, the fellow has tried, and perhaps he had not the strength—and
+ perhaps he had not the knowledge. We forgive, go on our way—and
forget.
</p>
<p>
And so it is with the workman of art. Art is long and life is short, and
success is very far off. And thus, doubtful of strength to travel so far,
- we talk a little about the aim&mdash;the aim of art, which, like life
- itself, is inspiring, difficult&mdash;obscured by mists; it is not in the
+ we talk a little about the aim—the aim of art, which, like life
+ itself, is inspiring, difficult—obscured by mists; it is not in the
clear logic of a triumphant conclusion; it is not in the unveiling of one
of those heartless secrets which are called the Laws of Nature. It is not
less great, but only more difficult.
@@ -339,29 +303,29 @@ Produced by David Widger
To arrest, for the space of a breath, the hands busy about the work of the
earth, and compel men entranced by the sight of distant goals to glance
for a moment at the surrounding vision of form and colour, of sunshine and
- shadows; to make them pause for a look, for a sigh, for a smile&mdash;such
+ shadows; to make them pause for a look, for a sigh, for a smile—such
is the aim, difficult and evanescent, and reserved only for a very few to
achieve. But sometimes, by the deserving and the fortunate, even that task
- is accomplished. And when it is accomplished&mdash;behold!&mdash;all the
- truth of life is there: a moment of vision, a sigh, a smile&mdash;and the
+ is accomplished. And when it is accomplished—behold!—all the
+ truth of life is there: a moment of vision, a sigh, a smile—and the
return to an eternal rest.
</p>
<p>
- 1897. J. C. <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002">
+ 1897. J. C. <a id="link2H_4_0002">
<!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
</p>
<div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ <br ><br ><br ><br >
</div>
<h1>
- THE NIGGER OF THE &ldquo;NARCISSUS&rdquo;
+ THE NIGGER OF THE “NARCISSUS”
</h1>
<p>
- <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001">
+ <a id="link2HCH0001">
<!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
</p>
<div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ <br ><br ><br ><br >
</div>
<h2>
CHAPTER ONE
@@ -370,20 +334,20 @@ Produced by David Widger
Mr. Baker, chief mate of the ship <i>Narcissus</i>, stepped in one stride
out of his lighted cabin into the darkness of the quarter-deck. Above his
head, on the break of the poop, the night-watchman rang a double stroke.
- It was nine o'clock. Mr. Baker, speaking up to the man above him, asked:&mdash;&ldquo;Are
- all the hands aboard, Knowles?&rdquo;
+ It was nine o’clock. Mr. Baker, speaking up to the man above him, asked:—“Are
+ all the hands aboard, Knowles?”
</p>
<p>
- The man limped down the ladder, then said reflectively:&mdash;
+ The man limped down the ladder, then said reflectively:—
</p>
<p>
- &ldquo;I think so, sir. All our old chaps are there, and a lot of new men has
- come.... They must be all there.&rdquo;
+ “I think so, sir. All our old chaps are there, and a lot of new men has
+ come.... They must be all there.”
</p>
<p>
- &ldquo;Tell the boatswain to send all hands aft,&rdquo; went on Mr. Baker; &ldquo;and tell
+ “Tell the boatswain to send all hands aft,” went on Mr. Baker; “and tell
one of the youngsters to bring a good lamp here. I want to muster our
- crowd.&rdquo;
+ crowd.”
</p>
<p>
The main deck was dark aft, but halfway from forward, through the open
@@ -400,7 +364,7 @@ Produced by David Widger
tug that would come paddling and hissing noisily, hot and smoky, in the
limpid, cool quietness of the early morning. The captain was ashore, where
he had been engaging some new hands to make up his full crew; and, the
- work of the day over, the ship's officers had kept out of the way, glad of
+ work of the day over, the ship’s officers had kept out of the way, glad of
a little breathing-time. Soon after dark the few liberty-men and the new
hands began to arrive in shore-boats rowed by white-clad Asiatics, who
clamoured fiercely for payment before coming alongside the gangway-ladder.
@@ -415,9 +379,9 @@ Produced by David Widger
<p>
Gradually the distracting noise had subsided. The boats came no longer in
splashing clusters of three or four together, but dropped alongside
- singly, in a subdued buzz of expostulation cut short by a &ldquo;Not a pace
- more! You go to the devil!&rdquo; from some man staggering up the
- accommodation-ladder&mdash;a dark figure, with a long bag poised on the
+ singly, in a subdued buzz of expostulation cut short by a “Not a pace
+ more! You go to the devil!” from some man staggering up the
+ accommodation-ladder—a dark figure, with a long bag poised on the
shoulder. In the forecastle the newcomers, upright and swaying amongst
corded boxes and bundles of bedding, made friends with the old hands, who
sat one above another in the two tiers of bunks, gazing at their future
@@ -426,15 +390,15 @@ Produced by David Widger
hats were pushed far on the backs of heads, or rolled about on the deck
amongst the chain-cables; white collars, undone, stuck out on each side of
red faces; big arms in white sleeves gesticulated; the growling voices
- hummed steady amongst bursts of laughter and hoarse calls. &ldquo;Here, sonny,
- take that bunk!... Don't you do it!... What's your last ship?... I know
+ hummed steady amongst bursts of laughter and hoarse calls. “Here, sonny,
+ take that bunk!... Don’t you do it!... What’s your last ship?... I know
her.... Three years ago, in Puget Sound.... This here berth leaks, I tell
you!... Come on; give us a chance to swing that chest!... Did you bring a
- bottle, any of you shore toffs?... Give us a bit of 'baccy.... I know her;
+ bottle, any of you shore toffs?... Give us a bit of ’baccy.... I know her;
her skipper drank himself to death.... He was a dandy boy!... Liked his
lotion inside, he did!... No!... Hold your row, you chaps!... I tell you,
- you came on board a hooker, where they get their money's worth out of poor
- Jack, by&mdash;!...&rdquo;
+ you came on board a hooker, where they get their money’s worth out of poor
+ Jack, by—!...”
</p>
<p>
A little fellow, called Craik and nicknamed Belfast, abused the ship
@@ -448,53 +412,53 @@ Produced by David Widger
tobacco smoke. All were speaking together, swearing at every second word.
A Russian Finn, wearing a yellow shirt with pink stripes, stared upwards,
dreamy-eyed, from under a mop of tumbled hair. Two young giants with
- smooth, baby faces&mdash;two Scandinavians&mdash;helped each other to
+ smooth, baby faces—two Scandinavians—helped each other to
spread their bedding, silent, and smiling placidly at the tempest of
good-humoured and meaningless curses. Old Singleton, the oldest able
seaman in the ship, sat apart on the deck right under the lamps, stripped
to the waist, tattooed like a cannibal chief all over his powerful chest
and enormous biceps. Between the blue and red patterns his white skin
gleamed like satin; his bare back was propped against the heel of the
- bowsprit, and he held a book at arm's length before his big, sunburnt
+ bowsprit, and he held a book at arm’s length before his big, sunburnt
face. With his spectacles and a venerable white beard, he resembled a
learned and savage patriarch, the incarnation of barbarian wisdom serene
in the blasphemous turmoil of the world. He was intensely absorbed, and as
he turned the pages an expression of grave surprise would pass over his
- rugged features. He was reading &ldquo;Pelham.&rdquo; The popularity of Bulwer Lytton
+ rugged features. He was reading “Pelham.” The popularity of Bulwer Lytton
in the forecastles of Southern-going ships is a wonderful and bizarre
phenomenon. What ideas do his polished and so curiously insincere
sentences awaken in the simple minds of the big children who people those
dark and wandering places of the earth? What meaning can their rough,
inexperienced souls find in the elegant verbiage of his pages? What
- excitement?&mdash;what forgetfulness?&mdash;what appeasement? Mystery! Is
- it the fascination of the incomprehensible?&mdash;is it the charm of the
+ excitement?—what forgetfulness?—what appeasement? Mystery! Is
+ it the fascination of the incomprehensible?—is it the charm of the
impossible? Or are those beings who exist beyond the pale of life stirred
by his tales as by an enigmatical disclosure of a resplendent world that
exists within the frontier of infamy and filth, within that border of dirt
and hunger, of misery and dissipation, that comes down on all sides to the
- water's edge of the incorruptible ocean, and is the only thing they know
- of life, the only thing they see of surrounding land&mdash;those life-long
+ water’s edge of the incorruptible ocean, and is the only thing they know
+ of life, the only thing they see of surrounding land—those life-long
prisoners of the sea? Mystery! Singleton, who had sailed to the southward
since the age of twelve, who in the last forty-five years had lived (as we
- had calculated from his papers) no more than forty months ashore&mdash;old
+ had calculated from his papers) no more than forty months ashore—old
Singleton, who boasted, with the mild composure of long years well spent,
that generally from the day he was paid off from one ship till the day he
- shipped in another he seldom was in a condition to distinguish daylight&mdash;old
+ shipped in another he seldom was in a condition to distinguish daylight—old
Singleton sat unmoved in the clash of voices and cries, spelling through
- &ldquo;Pelham&rdquo; with slow labour, and lost in an absorption profound enough to
+ “Pelham” with slow labour, and lost in an absorption profound enough to
resemble a trance. He breathed regularly. Every time he turned the book in
his enormous and blackened hands the muscles of his big white arms rolled
slightly under the smooth skin. Hidden by the white moustache, his lips,
stained with tobacco-juice that trickled down the long beard, moved in
inward whisper. His bleared eyes gazed fixedly from behind the glitter of
black-rimmed glasses. Opposite to him, and on a level with his face, the
- ship's cat sat on the barrel of the windlass in the pose of a crouching
+ ship’s cat sat on the barrel of the windlass in the pose of a crouching
chimera, blinking its green eyes at its old friend. It seemed to meditate
- a leap on to the old man's lap over the bent back of the ordinary seaman
- who sat at Singleton's feet. Young Charley was lean and long-necked. The
+ a leap on to the old man’s lap over the bent back of the ordinary seaman
+ who sat at Singleton’s feet. Young Charley was lean and long-necked. The
ridge of his backbone made a chain of small hills under the old shirt. His
- face of a street-boy&mdash;a face precocious, sagacious, and ironic, with
- deep downward folds on each side of the thin, wide mouth&mdash;hung low
+ face of a street-boy—a face precocious, sagacious, and ironic, with
+ deep downward folds on each side of the thin, wide mouth—hung low
over his bony knees. He was learning to make a lanyard knot with a bit of
an old rope. Small drops of perspiration stood out on his bulging
forehead; he sniffed strongly from time to time, glancing out of the
@@ -515,42 +479,42 @@ Produced by David Widger
whitewashed and lighted mortuary. Voices buzzed louder. Archie, with
compressed lips, drew himself in, seemed to shrink into a smaller space,
and sewed steadily, industrious and dumb. Belfast shrieked like an
- inspired Dervish:&mdash;&ldquo;... So I seez to him, boys, seez I, 'Beggin' yer
- pardon, sorr,' seez I to that second mate of that steamer&mdash;'beggin'
- your-r-r pardon, sorr, the Board of Trade must 'ave been drunk when they
- granted you your certificate!' 'What do you say, you&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;!'
- seez he, comin' at me like a mad bull... all in his white clothes; and I
+ inspired Dervish:—“... So I seez to him, boys, seez I, ‘Beggin’ yer
+ pardon, sorr,’ seez I to that second mate of that steamer—‘beggin’
+ your-r-r pardon, sorr, the Board of Trade must ’ave been drunk when they
+ granted you your certificate!’ ‘What do you say, you———!’
+ seez he, comin’ at me like a mad bull... all in his white clothes; and I
up with my tar-pot and capsizes it all over his blamed lovely face and his
- lovely jacket.... 'Take that!' seez I. 'I am a sailor, anyhow, you nosing,
- skipper-licking, useless, sooperfloos bridge-stanchion, you! That's the
- kind of man I am!' shouts I.... You should have seed him skip, boys!
- Drowned, blind with tar, he was! So...&rdquo;
+ lovely jacket.... ‘Take that!’ seez I. ‘I am a sailor, anyhow, you nosing,
+ skipper-licking, useless, sooperfloos bridge-stanchion, you! That’s the
+ kind of man I am!’ shouts I.... You should have seed him skip, boys!
+ Drowned, blind with tar, he was! So...”
</p>
<p>
- &ldquo;Don't 'ee believe him! He never upset no tar; I was there!&rdquo; shouted
+ “Don’t ’ee believe him! He never upset no tar; I was there!” shouted
somebody. The two Norwegians sat on a chest side by side, alike and
placid, resembling a pair of love-birds on a perch, and with round eyes
stared innocently; but the Russian Finn, in the racket of explosive shouts
and rolling laughter, remained motionless, limp and dull, like a deaf man
without a backbone. Near him Archie smiled at his needle. A broad-chested,
slow-eyed newcomer spoke deliberately to Belfast during an exhausted lull
- in the noise:&mdash;&ldquo;I wonder any of the mates here are alive yet with
- such a chap as you on board! I concloode they ain't that bad now, if you
- had the taming of them, sonny.&rdquo;
+ in the noise:—“I wonder any of the mates here are alive yet with
+ such a chap as you on board! I concloode they ain’t that bad now, if you
+ had the taming of them, sonny.”
</p>
<p>
- &ldquo;Not bad! Not bad!&rdquo; screamed Belfast. &ldquo;If it wasn't for us sticking
- together.... Not bad! They ain't never bad when they ain't got a chawnce,
- blast their black 'arts....&rdquo;
+ “Not bad! Not bad!” screamed Belfast. “If it wasn’t for us sticking
+ together.... Not bad! They ain’t never bad when they ain’t got a chawnce,
+ blast their black ’arts....”
</p>
<p>
He foamed, whirling his arms, then suddenly grinned and, taking a tablet
of black tobacco out of his pocket, bit a piece off with a funny show of
- ferocity. Another new hand&mdash;a man with shifty eyes and a yellow
+ ferocity. Another new hand—a man with shifty eyes and a yellow
hatchet face, who had been listening open-mouthed in the shadow of the
- midship locker&mdash;observed in a squeaky voice:&mdash;&ldquo;Well, it's a
- 'omeward trip, anyhow. Bad or good, I can do it on my 'ed&mdash;s'long as
- I get 'ome. And I can look after my rights! I will show 'em!&rdquo; All the
+ midship locker—observed in a squeaky voice:—“Well, it’s a
+ ’omeward trip, anyhow. Bad or good, I can do it on my ’ed—s’long as
+ I get ’ome. And I can look after my rights! I will show ’em!” All the
heads turned towards him. Only the ordinary seaman and the cat took no
notice. He stood with arms akimbo, a little fellow with white eyelashes.
He looked as if he had known all the degradations and all the furies. He
@@ -572,10 +536,10 @@ Produced by David Widger
for drinks, starving, sleeping on rubbish-heaps, wandering in sunshine: a
startling visitor from a world of nightmares. He stood repulsive and
smiling in the sudden silence. This clean white forecastle was his refuge;
- the place where he could be lazy; where he could wallow, and lie and eat&mdash;and
+ the place where he could be lazy; where he could wallow, and lie and eat—and
curse the food he ate; where he could display his talents for shirking
work, for cheating, for cadging; where he could find surely some one to
- wheedle and some one to bully&mdash;and where he would be paid for doing
+ wheedle and some one to bully—and where he would be paid for doing
all this. They all knew him. Is there a spot on earth where such a man is
unknown, an ominous survival testifying to the eternal fitness of lies and
impudence? A taciturn long-armed shellback, with hooked fingers, who had
@@ -586,43 +550,43 @@ Produced by David Widger
holds on frantically with both arms and legs, and swears at the wind, the
sleet, the darkness; the man who curses the sea while others work. The man
who is the last out and the first in when all hands are called. The man
- who can't do most things and won't do the rest. The pet of philanthropists
+ who can’t do most things and won’t do the rest. The pet of philanthropists
and self-seeking landlubbers. The sympathetic and deserving creature that
knows all about his rights, but knows nothing of courage, of endurance,
and of the unexpressed faith, of the unspoken loyalty that knits together
- a ship's company. The independent offspring of the ignoble freedom of the
+ a ship’s company. The independent offspring of the ignoble freedom of the
slums full of disdain and hate for the austere servitude of the sea.
</p>
<p>
- Some one cried at him: &ldquo;What's your name?&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;Donkin,&rdquo; he said,
- looking round with cheerful effrontery.&mdash;&ldquo;What are you?&rdquo; asked
- another voice.&mdash;&ldquo;Why, a sailor like you, old man,&rdquo; he replied, in a
- tone that meant to be hearty but was impudent.&mdash;&ldquo;Blamme if you don't
- look a blamed sight worse than a broken-down fireman,&rdquo; was the comment in
+ Some one cried at him: “What’s your name?”—“Donkin,” he said,
+ looking round with cheerful effrontery.—“What are you?” asked
+ another voice.—“Why, a sailor like you, old man,” he replied, in a
+ tone that meant to be hearty but was impudent.—“Blamme if you don’t
+ look a blamed sight worse than a broken-down fireman,” was the comment in
a convinced mutter. Charley lifted his head and piped in a cheeky voice:
- &ldquo;He is a man and a sailor&rdquo;&mdash;then wiping his nose with the back of his
+ “He is a man and a sailor”—then wiping his nose with the back of his
hand bent down industriously over his bit of rope. A few laughed. Others
- stared doubtfully. The ragged newcomer was indignant&mdash;&ldquo;That's a fine
- way to welcome a chap into a fo'c'sle,&rdquo; he snarled. &ldquo;Are you men or a lot
- of 'artless canny-bals?&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;Don't take your shirt off for a word,
- shipmate,&rdquo; called out Belfast, jumping up in front, fiery, menacing, and
- friendly at the same time.&mdash;&ldquo;Is that 'ere bloke blind?&rdquo; asked the
+ stared doubtfully. The ragged newcomer was indignant—“That’s a fine
+ way to welcome a chap into a fo’c’sle,” he snarled. “Are you men or a lot
+ of ’artless canny-bals?”—“Don’t take your shirt off for a word,
+ shipmate,” called out Belfast, jumping up in front, fiery, menacing, and
+ friendly at the same time.—“Is that ’ere bloke blind?” asked the
indomitable scarecrow, looking right and left with affected surprise.
- &ldquo;Can't 'ee see I 'aven't got no shirt?&rdquo;
+ “Can’t ’ee see I ’aven’t got no shirt?”
</p>
<p>
He held both his arms out crosswise and shook the rags that hung over his
bones with dramatic effect.
</p>
<p>
- &ldquo;'Cos why?&rdquo; he continued very loud. &ldquo;The bloody Yankees been tryin' to
- jump my guts out 'cos I stood up for my rights like a good 'un. I am an
- Englishman, I am. They set upon me an' I 'ad to run. That's why. A'n't yer
- never seed a man 'ard up? Yah! What kind of blamed ship is this? I'm dead
- broke. I 'aven't got nothink. No bag, no bed, no blanket, no shirt&mdash;not
- a bloomin' rag but what I stand in. But I 'ad the 'art to stand up agin'
- them Yankees. 'As any of you 'art enough to spare a pair of old pants for
- a chum?&rdquo;
+ “’Cos why?” he continued very loud. “The bloody Yankees been tryin’ to
+ jump my guts out ’cos I stood up for my rights like a good ’un. I am an
+ Englishman, I am. They set upon me an’ I ’ad to run. That’s why. A’n’t yer
+ never seed a man ’ard up? Yah! What kind of blamed ship is this? I’m dead
+ broke. I ’aven’t got nothink. No bag, no bed, no blanket, no shirt—not
+ a bloomin’ rag but what I stand in. But I ’ad the ’art to stand up agin’
+ them Yankees. ’As any of you ’art enough to spare a pair of old pants for
+ a chum?”
</p>
<p>
He knew how to conquer the naïve instincts of that crowd. In a moment they
@@ -630,60 +594,60 @@ Produced by David Widger
first it took the shape of a blanket thrown at him as he stood there with
the white skin of his limbs showing his human kinship through the black
fantasy of his rags. Then a pair of old shoes fell at his muddy feet. With
- a cry:&mdash;&ldquo;From under,&rdquo; a rolled-up pair of canvas trousers, heavy with
+ a cry:—“From under,” a rolled-up pair of canvas trousers, heavy with
tar stains, struck him on the shoulder. The gust of their benevolence sent
a wave of sentimental pity through their doubting hearts. They were
- touched by their own readiness to alleviate a shipmate's misery. Voices
- cried:&mdash;&ldquo;We will fit you out, old man.&rdquo; Murmurs: &ldquo;Never seed seech a
- hard case.... Poor beggar.... I've got an old singlet.... Will that be of
- any use to you?... Take it, matey....&rdquo; Those friendly murmurs filled the
+ touched by their own readiness to alleviate a shipmate’s misery. Voices
+ cried:—“We will fit you out, old man.” Murmurs: “Never seed seech a
+ hard case.... Poor beggar.... I’ve got an old singlet.... Will that be of
+ any use to you?... Take it, matey....” Those friendly murmurs filled the
forecastle. He pawed around with his naked foot, gathering the things in a
heap and looked about for more. Unemotional Archie perfunctorily
contributed to the pile an old cloth cap with the peak torn off. Old
Singleton, lost in the serene regions of fiction, read on unheeding.
- Charley, pitiless with the wisdom of youth, squeaked:&mdash;&ldquo;If you want
- brass buttons for your new unyforms I've got two for you.&rdquo; The filthy
- object of universal charity shook his fist at the youngster.&mdash;&ldquo;I'll
- make you keep this 'ere fo'c'sle clean, young feller,&rdquo; he snarled
- viciously. &ldquo;Never you fear. I will learn you to be civil to an able
- seaman, you ignerant ass.&rdquo; He glared harmfully, but saw Singleton shut his
- book, and his little beady eyes began to roam from berth to berth.&mdash;&ldquo;Take
- that bunk by the door there&mdash;it's pretty fair,&rdquo; suggested Belfast. So
+ Charley, pitiless with the wisdom of youth, squeaked:—“If you want
+ brass buttons for your new unyforms I’ve got two for you.” The filthy
+ object of universal charity shook his fist at the youngster.—“I’ll
+ make you keep this ’ere fo’c’sle clean, young feller,” he snarled
+ viciously. “Never you fear. I will learn you to be civil to an able
+ seaman, you ignerant ass.” He glared harmfully, but saw Singleton shut his
+ book, and his little beady eyes began to roam from berth to berth.—“Take
+ that bunk by the door there—it’s pretty fair,” suggested Belfast. So
advised, he gathered the gifts at his feet, pressed them in a bundle
against his breast, then looked cautiously at the Russian Finn, who stood
on one side with an unconscious gaze, contemplating, perhaps, one of those
- weird visions that haunt the men of his race.&mdash;&ldquo;Get out of my road,
- Dutchy,&rdquo; said the victim of Yankee brutality. The Finn did not move&mdash;did
- not hear. &ldquo;Get out, blast ye,&rdquo; shouted the other, shoving him aside with
- his elbow. &ldquo;Get out, you blanked deaf and dumb fool. Get out.&rdquo; The man
- staggered, recovered himself, and gazed at the speaker in silence.&mdash;&ldquo;Those
- damned furriners should be kept under,&rdquo; opined the amiable Donkin to the
- forecastle. &ldquo;If you don't teach 'em their place they put on you like
- anythink.&rdquo; He flung all his worldly possessions into the empty bed-place,
+ weird visions that haunt the men of his race.—“Get out of my road,
+ Dutchy,” said the victim of Yankee brutality. The Finn did not move—did
+ not hear. “Get out, blast ye,” shouted the other, shoving him aside with
+ his elbow. “Get out, you blanked deaf and dumb fool. Get out.” The man
+ staggered, recovered himself, and gazed at the speaker in silence.—“Those
+ damned furriners should be kept under,” opined the amiable Donkin to the
+ forecastle. “If you don’t teach ’em their place they put on you like
+ anythink.” He flung all his worldly possessions into the empty bed-place,
gauged with another shrewd look the risks of the proceeding, then leaped
- up to the Finn, who stood pensive and dull.&mdash;&ldquo;I'll teach you to swell
- around,&rdquo; he yelled. &ldquo;I'll plug your eyes for you, you blooming
- square-head.&rdquo; Most of the men were now in their bunks and the two had the
+ up to the Finn, who stood pensive and dull.—“I’ll teach you to swell
+ around,” he yelled. “I’ll plug your eyes for you, you blooming
+ square-head.” Most of the men were now in their bunks and the two had the
forecastle clear to themselves. The development of the destitute Donkin
aroused interest. He danced all in tatters before the amazed Finn,
squaring from a distance at the heavy, unmoved face. One or two men cried
- encouragingly: &ldquo;Go it, Whitechapel!&rdquo; settling themselves luxuriously in
- their beds to survey the fight. Others shouted: &ldquo;Shut yer row!... Go an'
- put yer 'ed in a bag!...&rdquo; The hubbub was recommencing. Suddenly many heavy
+ encouragingly: “Go it, Whitechapel!” settling themselves luxuriously in
+ their beds to survey the fight. Others shouted: “Shut yer row!... Go an’
+ put yer ’ed in a bag!...” The hubbub was recommencing. Suddenly many heavy
blows struck with a handspike on the deck above boomed like discharges of
- small cannon through the forecastle. Then the boatswain's voice rose
- outside the door with an authoritative note in its drawl:&mdash;&ldquo;D'ye
- hear, below there? Lay aft! Lay aft to muster all hands!&rdquo;
+ small cannon through the forecastle. Then the boatswain’s voice rose
+ outside the door with an authoritative note in its drawl:—“D’ye
+ hear, below there? Lay aft! Lay aft to muster all hands!”
</p>
<p>
There was a moment of surprised stillness. Then the forecastle floor
disappeared under men whose bare feet flopped on the planks as they sprang
clear out of their berths. Caps were rooted for amongst tumbled blankets.
Some, yawning, buttoned waistbands. Half-smoked pipes were knocked
- hurriedly against woodwork and stuffed under pillows. Voices growled:&mdash;&ldquo;What's
- up?... Is there no rest for us?&rdquo; Donkin yelped:&mdash;&ldquo;If that's the way
- of this ship, we'll 'ave to change all that.... You leave me alone.... I
- will soon....&rdquo; None of the crowd noticed him. They were lurching in twos
+ hurriedly against woodwork and stuffed under pillows. Voices growled:—“What’s
+ up?... Is there no rest for us?” Donkin yelped:—“If that’s the way
+ of this ship, we’ll ’ave to change all that.... You leave me alone.... I
+ will soon....” None of the crowd noticed him. They were lurching in twos
and threes through the doors, after the manner of merchant Jacks who
cannot go out of a door fairly, like mere landsmen. The votary of change
followed them. Singleton, struggling into his jacket, came last, tall and
@@ -724,7 +688,7 @@ Produced by David Widger
names. He called distinctly in a serious tone befitting this roll-call to
unquiet loneliness, to inglorious and obscure struggle, or to the more
trying endurance of small privations and wearisome duties. As the chief
- mate read out a name, one of the men would answer: &ldquo;Yes, sir!&rdquo; or &ldquo;Here!&rdquo;
+ mate read out a name, one of the men would answer: “Yes, sir!” or “Here!”
and, detaching himself from the shadowy mob of heads visible above the
blackness of starboard bulwarks, would step bare-footed into the circle of
light, and in two noiseless strides pass into the shadows on the port side
@@ -736,173 +700,173 @@ Produced by David Widger
sea and the exacting appeal of the work.
</p>
<p>
-Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash;Wamibo.
- Now, then, Wamibo. Why don't you answer? Always got to call your name
- twice.&rdquo; The Finn emitted at last an uncouth grunt, and, stepping out,
+Mr. Baker read on steadily:—“Hansen—Campbell—Smith—Wamibo.
+ Now, then, Wamibo. Why don’t you answer? Always got to call your name
+ twice.” The Finn emitted at last an uncouth grunt, and, stepping out,
passed through the patch of light, weird and gaudy, with the face of a man
- marching through a dream. The mate went on faster:&mdash;&ldquo;Craik&mdash;Singleton&mdash;Donkin....
- O Lord!&rdquo; he involuntarily ejaculated as the incredibly dilapidated figure
+ marching through a dream. The mate went on faster:—“Craik—Singleton—Donkin....
+ O Lord!” he involuntarily ejaculated as the incredibly dilapidated figure
appeared in the light. It stopped; it uncovered pale gums and long, upper
- teeth in a malevolent grin.&mdash;&ldquo;Is there any-think wrong with me,
- Mister Mate?&rdquo; it asked, with a flavour of insolence in the forced
+ teeth in a malevolent grin.—“Is there any-think wrong with me,
+ Mister Mate?” it asked, with a flavour of insolence in the forced
simplicity of its tone. On both sides of the deck subdued titters were
- heard.&mdash;&ldquo;That'll do. Go over,&rdquo; growled Mr. Baker, fixing the new hand
+ heard.—“That’ll do. Go over,” growled Mr. Baker, fixing the new hand
with steady blue eyes. And Donkin vanished suddenly out of the light into
the dark group of mustered men, to be slapped on the back and to hear
- flattering whispers:&mdash;&ldquo;He ain't afeard, he'll give sport to 'em, see
- if he don't.... Reg'lar Punch and Judy show.... Did ye see the mate start
- at him?... Well! Damme, if I ever!...&rdquo; The last man had gone over, and
- there was a moment of silence while the mate peered at his list.&mdash;&ldquo;Sixteen,
- seventeen,&rdquo; he muttered. &ldquo;I am one hand short, bo'sen,&rdquo; he said aloud. The
+ flattering whispers:—“He ain’t afeard, he’ll give sport to ’em, see
+ if he don’t.... Reg’lar Punch and Judy show.... Did ye see the mate start
+ at him?... Well! Damme, if I ever!...” The last man had gone over, and
+ there was a moment of silence while the mate peered at his list.—“Sixteen,
+ seventeen,” he muttered. “I am one hand short, bo’sen,” he said aloud. The
big west-countryman at his elbow, swarthy and bearded like a gigantic
- Spaniard, said in a rumbling bass:&mdash;&ldquo;There's no one left forward,
- sir. I had a look round. He ain't aboard, but he may turn up before
- daylight.&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;Ay. He may or he may not,&rdquo; commented the mate, &ldquo;can't
- make out that last name. It's all a smudge.... That will do, men. Go
- below.&rdquo;
+ Spaniard, said in a rumbling bass:—“There’s no one left forward,
+ sir. I had a look round. He ain’t aboard, but he may turn up before
+ daylight.”—“Ay. He may or he may not,” commented the mate, “can’t
+ make out that last name. It’s all a smudge.... That will do, men. Go
+ below.”
</p>
<p>
The distinct and motionless group stirred, broke up, began to move
forward.
</p>
<p>
- &ldquo;Wait!&rdquo; cried a deep, ringing voice.
+ “Wait!” cried a deep, ringing voice.
</p>
<p>
All stood still. Mr. Baker, who had turned away yawning, spun round
- open-mouthed. At last, furious, he blurted out:&mdash;&ldquo;What's this? Who
- said 'Wait'? What....&rdquo;
+ open-mouthed. At last, furious, he blurted out:—“What’s this? Who
+ said ‘Wait’? What....”
</p>
<p>
But he saw a tall figure standing on the rail. It came down and pushed
through the crowd, marching with a heavy tread towards the light on the
- quarterdeck. Then again the sonorous voice said with insistence:&mdash;&ldquo;Wait!&rdquo;
- The lamplight lit up the man's body. He was tall. His head was away up in
+ quarterdeck. Then again the sonorous voice said with insistence:—“Wait!”
+ The lamplight lit up the man’s body. He was tall. His head was away up in
the shadows of lifeboats that stood on skids above the deck. The whites of
his eyes and his teeth gleamed distinctly, but the face was
indistinguishable. His hands were big and seemed gloved.
</p>
<p>
- Mr. Baker advanced intrepidly. &ldquo;Who are you? How dare you...&rdquo; he began.
+ Mr. Baker advanced intrepidly. “Who are you? How dare you...” he began.
</p>
<p>
- The boy, amazed like the rest, raised the light to the man's face. It was
- black. A surprised hum&mdash;a faint hum that sounded like the suppressed
- mutter of the word &ldquo;Nigger&rdquo;&mdash;ran along the deck and escaped out into
+ The boy, amazed like the rest, raised the light to the man’s face. It was
+ black. A surprised hum—a faint hum that sounded like the suppressed
+ mutter of the word “Nigger”—ran along the deck and escaped out into
the night. The nigger seemed not to hear. He balanced himself where he
- stood in a swagger that marked time. After a moment he said calmly:&mdash;&ldquo;My
- name is Wait&mdash;James Wait.&rdquo;
+ stood in a swagger that marked time. After a moment he said calmly:—“My
+ name is Wait—James Wait.”
</p>
<p>
- &ldquo;Oh!&rdquo; said Mr. Baker. Then, after a few seconds of smouldering silence,
- his temper blazed out. &ldquo;Ah! Your name is Wait. What of that? What do you
- want? What do you mean, coming shouting here?&rdquo;
+ “Oh!” said Mr. Baker. Then, after a few seconds of smouldering silence,
+ his temper blazed out. “Ah! Your name is Wait. What of that? What do you
+ want? What do you mean, coming shouting here?”
</p>
<p>
The nigger was calm, cool, towering, superb. The men had approached and
stood behind him in a body. He overtopped the tallest by half a head. He
- said: &ldquo;I belong to the ship.&rdquo; He enunciated distinctly, with soft
+ said: “I belong to the ship.” He enunciated distinctly, with soft
precision. The deep, rolling tones of his voice filled the deck without
effort. He was naturally scornful, unaffectedly condescending, as if from
his height of six foot three he had surveyed all the vastness of human
- folly and had made up his mind not to be too hard on it. He went on:&mdash;&ldquo;The
- captain shipped me this morning. I couldn't get aboard sooner. I saw you
+ folly and had made up his mind not to be too hard on it. He went on:—“The
+ captain shipped me this morning. I couldn’t get aboard sooner. I saw you
all aft as I came up the ladder, and could see directly you were mustering
the crew. Naturally I called out my name. I thought you had it on your
- list, and would understand. You misapprehended.&rdquo; He stopped short. The
+ list, and would understand. You misapprehended.” He stopped short. The
folly around him was confounded. He was right as ever, and as ever ready
to forgive. The disdainful tones had ceased, and, breathing heavily, he
stood still, surrounded by all these white men. He held his head up in the
- glare of the lamp&mdash;a head vigorously modelled into deep shadows and
- shining lights&mdash;a head powerful and misshapen with a tormented and
- flattened face&mdash;a face pathetic and brutal: the tragic, the
- mysterious, the repulsive mask of a nigger's soul.
+ glare of the lamp—a head vigorously modelled into deep shadows and
+ shining lights—a head powerful and misshapen with a tormented and
+ flattened face—a face pathetic and brutal: the tragic, the
+ mysterious, the repulsive mask of a nigger’s soul.
</p>
<p>
- Mr. Baker, recovering his composure, looked at the paper close. &ldquo;Oh, yes;
- that's so. All right, Wait. Take your gear forward,&rdquo; he said.
+ Mr. Baker, recovering his composure, looked at the paper close. “Oh, yes;
+ that’s so. All right, Wait. Take your gear forward,” he said.
</p>
<p>
- Suddenly the nigger's eyes rolled wildly, became all whites. He put his
+ Suddenly the nigger’s eyes rolled wildly, became all whites. He put his
hand to his side and coughed twice, a cough metallic, hollow, and
tremendously loud; it resounded like two explosions in a vault; the dome
- of the sky rang to it, and the iron plates of the ship's bulwarks seemed
+ of the sky rang to it, and the iron plates of the ship’s bulwarks seemed
to vibrate in unison, then he marched off forward with the others. The
- officers lingering by the cabin door could hear him say: &ldquo;Won't some of
- you chaps lend a hand with my dunnage? I've got a chest and a bag.&rdquo; The
+ officers lingering by the cabin door could hear him say: “Won’t some of
+ you chaps lend a hand with my dunnage? I’ve got a chest and a bag.” The
words, spoken sonorously, with an even intonation, were heard all over the
ship, and the question was put in a manner that made refusal impossible.
The short, quick shuffle of men carrying something heavy went away
forward, but the tall figure of the nigger lingered by the main hatch in a
- knot of smaller shapes. Again he was heard asking: &ldquo;Is your cook a
- coloured gentleman?&rdquo; Then a disappointed and disapproving &ldquo;Ah! h'm!&rdquo; was
+ knot of smaller shapes. Again he was heard asking: “Is your cook a
+ coloured gentleman?” Then a disappointed and disapproving “Ah! h’m!” was
his comment upon the information that the cook happened to be a mere white
man. Yet, as they went all together towards the forecastle, he
condescended to put his head through the galley door and boom out inside a
- magnificent &ldquo;Good evening, doctor!&rdquo; that made all the saucepans ring. In
- the dim light the cook dozed on the coal locker in front of the captain's
+ magnificent “Good evening, doctor!” that made all the saucepans ring. In
+ the dim light the cook dozed on the coal locker in front of the captain’s
supper. He jumped up as if he had been cut with a whip, and dashed wildly
on deck to see the backs of several men going away laughing. Afterwards,
- when talking about that voyage, he used to say:&mdash;&ldquo;The poor fellow had
- scared me. I thought I had seen the devil.&rdquo; The cook had been seven years
+ when talking about that voyage, he used to say:—“The poor fellow had
+ scared me. I thought I had seen the devil.” The cook had been seven years
in the ship with the same captain. He was a serious-minded man with a wife
and three children, whose society he enjoyed on an average one month out
of twelve. When on shore he took his family to church twice every Sunday.
At sea he went to sleep every evening with his lamp turned up full, a pipe
in his mouth, and an open Bible in his hand. Some one had always to go
during the night to put out the light, take the book from his hand, and
- the pipe from between his teeth. &ldquo;For&rdquo;&mdash;Belfast used to say,
- irritated and complaining&mdash;&ldquo;some night, you stupid cookie, you'll
- swallow your ould clay, and we will have no cook.&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;Ah! sonny, I am
- ready for my Maker's call... wish you all were,&rdquo; the other would answer
+ the pipe from between his teeth. “For”—Belfast used to say,
+ irritated and complaining—“some night, you stupid cookie, you’ll
+ swallow your ould clay, and we will have no cook.”—“Ah! sonny, I am
+ ready for my Maker’s call... wish you all were,” the other would answer
with a benign serenity that was altogether imbecile and touching. Belfast
- outside the galley door danced with vexation. &ldquo;You holy fool! I don't want
- you to die,&rdquo; he howled, looking up with furious, quivering face and tender
- eyes. &ldquo;What's the hurry? You blessed wooden-headed ould heretic, the
- divvle will have you soon enough. Think of Us... of Us... of Us!&rdquo; And he
+ outside the galley door danced with vexation. “You holy fool! I don’t want
+ you to die,” he howled, looking up with furious, quivering face and tender
+ eyes. “What’s the hurry? You blessed wooden-headed ould heretic, the
+ divvle will have you soon enough. Think of Us... of Us... of Us!” And he
would go away, stamping, spitting aside, disgusted and worried; while the
other, stepping out, saucepan in hand, hot, begrimed and placid, watched
- with a superior, cock-sure smile the back of his &ldquo;queer little man&rdquo;
+ with a superior, cock-sure smile the back of his “queer little man”
reeling in a rage. They were great friends.
</p>
<p>
Mr. Baker, lounging over the after-hatch, sniffed the humid night in the
- company of the second mate.&mdash;&ldquo;Those West India niggers run fine and
- large&mdash;some of them... Ough!... Don't they? A fine, big man that, Mr.
+ company of the second mate.—“Those West India niggers run fine and
+ large—some of them... Ough!... Don’t they? A fine, big man that, Mr.
Creighton. Feel him on a rope. Hey? Ough! I will take him into my watch, I
- think.&rdquo; The second mate, a fair, gentlemanly young fellow, with a resolute
+ think.” The second mate, a fair, gentlemanly young fellow, with a resolute
face and a splendid physique, observed quietly that it was just about what
he expected. There could be felt in his tone some slight bitterness which
- Mr. Baker very kindly set himself to argue away. &ldquo;Come, come, young man,&rdquo;
- he said, grunting between the words. &ldquo;Come! Don't be too greedy. You had
- that big Finn in your watch all the voyage. I will do what's fair. You may
+ Mr. Baker very kindly set himself to argue away. “Come, come, young man,”
+ he said, grunting between the words. “Come! Don’t be too greedy. You had
+ that big Finn in your watch all the voyage. I will do what’s fair. You may
have those two young Scandinavians and I... Ough!... I get the nigger, and
will take that.... Ough! that cheeky costermonger chap in a black
- frock-coat. I'll make him.... Ough!... make him toe the mark, or my....
- Ough!.... name isn't Baker. Ough! Ough! Ough!&rdquo;
+ frock-coat. I’ll make him.... Ough!... make him toe the mark, or my....
+ Ough!.... name isn’t Baker. Ough! Ough! Ough!”
</p>
<p>
- He grunted thrice&mdash;ferociously. He had that trick of grunting so
+ He grunted thrice—ferociously. He had that trick of grunting so
between his words and at the end of sentences. It was a fine, effective
grunt that went well with his menacing utterance, with his heavy,
bull-necked frame, his jerky, rolling gait; with his big, seamed face, his
steady eyes, and sardonic mouth. But its effect had been long ago
- discounted by the men. They liked him; Belfast&mdash;who was a favourite,
- and knew it&mdash;mimicked him, not quite behind his back. Charley&mdash;but
- with greater caution&mdash;imitated his rolling gait. Some of his sayings
+ discounted by the men. They liked him; Belfast—who was a favourite,
+ and knew it—mimicked him, not quite behind his back. Charley—but
+ with greater caution—imitated his rolling gait. Some of his sayings
became established, daily quotations in the forecastle. Popularity can go
no farther! Besides, all hands were ready to admit that on a fitting
- occasion the mate could &ldquo;jump down a fellow's throat in a reg'lar Western
- Ocean style.&rdquo;
+ occasion the mate could “jump down a fellow’s throat in a reg’lar Western
+ Ocean style.”
</p>
<p>
- Now he was giving his last orders. &ldquo;Ough! You, Knowles! Call all hands at
+ Now he was giving his last orders. “Ough! You, Knowles! Call all hands at
four. I want... Ough!... to heave short before the tug comes. Look out for
the captain. I am going to lie down in my clothes.... Ough!... Call me
- when you see the boat coming. Ough! Ough!. The old man is sure to have
- something to say when he gets aboard,&rdquo; he remarked to Creighton. &ldquo;Well,
+ when you see the boat coming. Ough! Ough!... The old man is sure to have
+ something to say when he gets aboard,” he remarked to Creighton. “Well,
good-night.... Ough! A long day before us to-morrow.... Ough!... Better
- turn in now. Ough! Ough!&rdquo;
+ turn in now. Ough! Ough!”
</p>
<p>
Upon the dark deck a band of light flashed, then a door slammed, and Mr.
@@ -922,20 +886,20 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
drawn, marked the resting-place of a sybarite. A leg hung over the edge
very white and lifeless. An arm stuck straight out with a dark palm turned
up, and thick fingers half closed. Two light snores, that did not
- synchronise, quarrelled in funny dialogue. Singleton stripped again&mdash;the
- old man suffered much from prickly heat&mdash;stood cooling his back in
+ synchronise, quarrelled in funny dialogue. Singleton stripped again—the
+ old man suffered much from prickly heat—stood cooling his back in
the doorway, with his arms crossed on his bare and adorned chest. His head
touched the beam of the deck above. The nigger, half undressed, was busy
casting adrift the lashing of his box, and spreading his bedding in an
upper berth. He moved about in his socks, tall and noiseless, with a pair
of braces beating about his calves. Amongst the shadows of stanchions and
- bowsprit, Donkin munched a piece of hard ship's bread, sitting on the deck
+ bowsprit, Donkin munched a piece of hard ship’s bread, sitting on the deck
with upturned feet and restless eyes; he held the biscuit up before his
mouth in the whole fist and snapped his jaws at it with a raging face.
Crumbs fell between his outspread legs. Then he got up.
</p>
<p>
- &ldquo;Where's our water-cask?&rdquo; he asked in a contained voice.
+ “Where’s our water-cask?” he asked in a contained voice.
</p>
<p>
Singleton, without a word, pointed with a big hand that held a short
@@ -944,42 +908,42 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
over the shoulder with calm loftiness. He moved up sideways.
</p>
<p>
- &ldquo;There's a blooming supper for a man,&rdquo; he whispered bitterly. &ldquo;My dorg at
- 'ome wouldn't 'ave it. It's fit enouf for you an' me. 'Ere's a big ship's
- fo'c'sle!... Not a blooming scrap of meat in the kids. I've looked in all
- the lockers....&rdquo;
+ “There’s a blooming supper for a man,” he whispered bitterly. “My dorg at
+ ’ome wouldn’t ’ave it. It’s fit enouf for you an’ me. ’Ere’s a big ship’s
+ fo’c’sle!... Not a blooming scrap of meat in the kids. I’ve looked in all
+ the lockers....”
</p>
<p>
The nigger stared like a man addressed unexpectedly in a foreign language.
- Donkin changed his tone:&mdash;&ldquo;Giv' us a bit of 'baccy, mate,&rdquo; he
- breathed out confidentially, &ldquo;I 'aven't 'ad smoke or chew for the last
- month. I am rampin' mad for it. Come on, old man!&rdquo;
+ Donkin changed his tone:—“Giv’ us a bit of ’baccy, mate,” he
+ breathed out confidentially, “I ’aven’t ’ad smoke or chew for the last
+ month. I am rampin’ mad for it. Come on, old man!”
</p>
<p>
- &ldquo;Don't be familiar,&rdquo; said the nigger. Donkin started and sat down on a
- chest near by, out of sheer surprise. &ldquo;We haven't kept pigs together,&rdquo;
- continued James Wait in a deep undertone. &ldquo;Here's your tobacco.&rdquo; Then,
- after a pause, he inquired:&mdash;&ldquo;What ship?&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;<i>Golden State</i>,&rdquo;
- muttered Donkin indistinctly, biting the tobacco. The nigger whistled low.&mdash;&ldquo;Ran?&rdquo;
- he said curtly. Donkin nodded: one of his cheeks bulged out. &ldquo;In course I
- ran,&rdquo; he mumbled. &ldquo;They booted the life hout of one Dago chap on the
- passage 'ere, then started on me. I cleared hout 'ere.&mdash;&rdquo; &ldquo;Left your
- dunnage behind?&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;Yes, dunnage and money,&rdquo; answered Donkin, raising
- his voice a little; &ldquo;I got nothink. No clothes, no bed. A bandy-legged
- little Hirish chap 'ere 'as give me a blanket. Think I'll go an' sleep in
- the fore topmast staysail to-night.&rdquo;
+ “Don’t be familiar,” said the nigger. Donkin started and sat down on a
+ chest near by, out of sheer surprise. “We haven’t kept pigs together,”
+ continued James Wait in a deep undertone. “Here’s your tobacco.” Then,
+ after a pause, he inquired:—“What ship?”—“<i>Golden State</i>,”
+ muttered Donkin indistinctly, biting the tobacco. The nigger whistled low.—“Ran?”
+ he said curtly. Donkin nodded: one of his cheeks bulged out. “In course I
+ ran,” he mumbled. “They booted the life hout of one Dago chap on the
+ passage ’ere, then started on me. I cleared hout ’ere.—” “Left your
+ dunnage behind?”—“Yes, dunnage and money,” answered Donkin, raising
+ his voice a little; “I got nothink. No clothes, no bed. A bandy-legged
+ little Hirish chap ’ere ’as give me a blanket. Think I’ll go an’ sleep in
+ the fore topmast staysail to-night.”
</p>
<p>
He went on deck trailing behind his back a corner of the blanket.
Singleton, without a glance, moved slightly aside to let him pass. The
nigger put away his shore togs and sat in clean working clothes on his
box, one arm stretched over his knees. After staring at Singleton for some
- time he asked without emphasis:&mdash;&ldquo;What kind of ship is this? Pretty
- fair? Eh?&rdquo;
+ time he asked without emphasis:—“What kind of ship is this? Pretty
+ fair? Eh?”
</p>
<p>
- Singleton didn't stir. A long while after he said, with unmoved face:&mdash;&ldquo;Ship!...
- Ships are all right. It is the men in them!&rdquo;
+ Singleton didn’t stir. A long while after he said, with unmoved face:—“Ship!...
+ Ships are all right. It is the men in them!”
</p>
<p>
He went on smoking in the profound silence. The wisdom of half a century
@@ -988,9 +952,9 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
a fit of roaring, rattling cough, that shook him, tossed him like a
hurricane, and flung him panting with staring eyes headlong on his
sea-chest. Several men woke up. One said sleepily out of his bunk:
- &ldquo;'Struth! what a blamed row!&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;I have a cold on my chest,&rdquo; gasped
- Wait.&mdash;&ldquo;Cold! you call it,&rdquo; grumbled the man; &ldquo;should think 'twas
- something more....&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;Oh! you think so,&rdquo; said the nigger upright and
+ “’Struth! what a blamed row!”—“I have a cold on my chest,” gasped
+ Wait.—“Cold! you call it,” grumbled the man; “should think ’twas
+ something more....”—“Oh! you think so,” said the nigger upright and
loftily scornful again. He climbed into his berth and began coughing
persistently while he put his head out to glare all round the forecastle.
There was no further protest. He fell back on the pillow, and could be
@@ -1005,21 +969,21 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
Yet he was only a child of time, a lonely relic of a devoured and
forgotten generation. He stood, still strong, as ever unthinking; a ready
man with a vast empty past and with no future, with his childlike impulses
- and his man's passions already dead within his tattooed breast. The men
- who could understand his silence were gone&mdash;those men who knew how to
+ and his man’s passions already dead within his tattooed breast. The men
+ who could understand his silence were gone—those men who knew how to
exist beyond the pale of life and within sight of eternity. They had been
strong, as those are strong who know neither doubts nor hopes. They had
been impatient and enduring, turbulent and devoted, unruly and faithful.
Well-meaning people had tried to represent those men as whining over every
mouthful of their food; as going about their work in fear of their lives.
But in truth they had been men who knew toil, privation, violence,
- debauchery&mdash;but knew not fear, and had no desire of spite in their
- hearts. Men hard to manage, but easy to inspire; voiceless men&mdash;but
+ debauchery—but knew not fear, and had no desire of spite in their
+ hearts. Men hard to manage, but easy to inspire; voiceless men—but
men enough to scorn in their hearts the sentimental voices that bewailed
the hardness of their fate. It was a fate unique and their own; the
capacity to bear it appeared to them the privilege of the chosen! Their
- generation lived inarticulate and, indispensable, without knowing the
- sweetness of affections or the refuge of a home&mdash;and died free from
+ generation lived inarticulate and indispensable, without knowing the
+ sweetness of affections or the refuge of a home—and died free from
the dark menace of a narrow grave. They were the everlasting children of
the mysterious sea. Their successors are the grown-up children of a
discontented earth. They are less naughty, but less innocent; less
@@ -1027,10 +991,10 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
speak they have also learned how to whine. But the others were strong and
mute; they were effaced, bowed and enduring, like stone caryatides that
hold up in the night the lighted halls of a resplendent and glorious
- edifice. They are gone now&mdash;and it does not matter. The sea and the
+ edifice. They are gone now—and it does not matter. The sea and the
earth are unfaithful to their children: a truth, a faith, a generation of
- men goes&mdash;and is forgotten, and it does not matter! Except, perhaps,
- to the few of those who believed the truth, confessed the faith&mdash;or
+ men goes—and is forgotten, and it does not matter! Except, perhaps,
+ to the few of those who believed the truth, confessed the faith—or
loved the men.
</p>
<p>
@@ -1041,12 +1005,12 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
that had been lurking stealthily in the iron. In the hawse-pipe the
grinding links sent through the ship a sound like a low groan of a man
sighing under a burden. The strain came on the windlass, the chain
- tautened like a string, vibrated&mdash;and the handle of the screw-brake
+ tautened like a string, vibrated—and the handle of the screw-brake
moved in slight jerks. Singleton stepped forward.
</p>
<p>
Till then he had been standing meditative and unthinking, reposeful and
- hopeless, with a face grim and blank&mdash;a sixty-year-old child of the
+ hopeless, with a face grim and blank—a sixty-year-old child of the
mysterious sea. The thoughts of all his lifetime could have been expressed
in six words, but the stir of those things that were as much part of his
existence as his beating heart called up a gleam of alert understanding
@@ -1059,19 +1023,19 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
the high lever, and, by a violent throw forward of his body, wrung out
another half-turn from the brake. He recovered himself, breathed largely,
and remained for a while glaring down at the powerful and compact engine
- that squatted on the deck at his feet like some quiet monster&mdash;a
+ that squatted on the deck at his feet like some quiet monster—a
creature amazing and tame.
</p>
<p>
- &ldquo;You... hold!&rdquo; he growled at it masterfully in the incult tangle of his
+ “You... hold!” he growled at it masterfully, in the incult tangle of his
white beard.
</p>
<p>
- <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002">
+ <a id="link2HCH0002">
<!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
</p>
<div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ <br ><br ><br ><br >
</div>
<h2>
CHAPTER TWO
@@ -1097,8 +1061,8 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
trying to escape with ineffectual effort into the distant gloom of the
land. She left a lingering smudge of smoke on the sky, and two vanishing
trails of foam on the water. On the place where she had stopped a round
- black patch of soot remained, undulating on the swell&mdash;an unclean
- mark of the creature's rest.
+ black patch of soot remained, undulating on the swell—an unclean
+ mark of the creature’s rest.
</p>
<p>
The <i>Narcissus</i> left alone, heading south, seemed to stand
@@ -1108,7 +1072,7 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
wings over the swaying mastheads. But soon the land disappeared, the birds
went away; and to the west the pointed sail of an Arab dhow running for
Bombay, rose triangular and upright above the sharp edge of the horizon,
- lingered and vanished like an illusion. Then the ship's wake, long and
+ lingered and vanished like an illusion. Then the ship’s wake, long and
straight, stretched itself out through a day of immense solitude. The
setting sun, burning on the level of the water, flamed crimson below the
blackness of heavy rain clouds. The sunset squall, coming up from behind,
@@ -1124,9 +1088,9 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
Mr. Baker, coming out of his cabin, called out the first name sharply
before closing the door behind him. He was going to take charge of the
deck. On the homeward trip, according to an old custom of the sea, the
- chief officer takes the first night-watch&mdash;from eight till midnight.
- So Mr. Baker, after he had heard the last &ldquo;Yes, sir!&rdquo; said moodily,
- &ldquo;Relieve the wheel and look-out&rdquo;; and climbed with heavy feet the poop
+ chief officer takes the first night-watch—from eight till midnight.
+ So Mr. Baker, after he had heard the last “Yes, sir!” said moodily,
+ “Relieve the wheel and look-out”; and climbed with heavy feet the poop
ladder to windward. Soon after Mr. Creighton came down, whistling softly,
and went into the cabin. On the doorstep the steward lounged, in slippers,
meditative, and with his shirt-sleeves rolled up to the armpits.
@@ -1134,11 +1098,11 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
<p>
On the main deck the cook, locking up the galley doors, had an altercation
with young Charley about a pair of socks. He could be heard saying
- impressively, in the darkness amidships: &ldquo;You don't deserve a kindness.
- I've been drying them for you, and now you complain about the holes&mdash;and
- you swear, too! Right in front of me! If I hadn't been a Christian&mdash;which
- you ain't, you young ruffian&mdash;I would give you a clout on the
- head.... Go away!&rdquo; Men in couples or threes stood pensive or moved
+ impressively, in the darkness amidships: “You don’t deserve a kindness.
+ I’ve been drying them for you, and now you complain about the holes—and
+ you swear, too! Right in front of me! If I hadn’t been a Christian—which
+ you ain’t, you young ruffian—I would give you a clout on the
+ head.... Go away!” Men in couples or threes stood pensive or moved
silently along the bulwarks in the waist. The first busy day of a homeward
passage was sinking into the dull peace of resumed routine. Aft, on the
high poop, Mr. Baker walked shuffling and grunted to himself in the pauses
@@ -1155,13 +1119,13 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
and sea met in an unattainable frontier. A great circular solitude moved
with her, ever changing and ever the same, always monotonous and always
imposing. Now and then another wandering white speck, burdened with life,
- appeared far off&mdash;disappeared; intent on its own destiny. The sun
+ appeared far off—disappeared; intent on its own destiny. The sun
looked upon her all day, and every morning rose with a burning, round
stare of undying curiosity. She had her own future; she was alive with the
lives of those beings who trod her decks; like that earth which had given
her up to the sea, she had an intolerable load of regrets and hopes. On
her lived timid truth and audacious lies; and, like the earth, she was
- unconscious, fair to see&mdash;and condemned by men to an ignoble fate.
+ unconscious, fair to see—and condemned by men to an ignoble fate.
The august loneliness of her path lent dignity to the sordid inspiration
of her pilgrimage. She drove foaming to the southward, as if guided by the
courage of a high endeavour. The smiling greatness of the sea dwarfed the
@@ -1181,7 +1145,7 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
and with an old red muffler round his throat, all day long pervaded the
poop. At night, many times he rose out of the darkness of the companion,
such as a phantom above a grave, and stood watchful and mute under the
- stars, his night-shirt fluttering like a flag&mdash;then, without a sound,
+ stars, his night-shirt fluttering like a flag—then, without a sound,
sank down again. He was born on the shores of the Pentland Firth. In his
youth he attained the rank of harpooner in Peterhead whalers. When he
spoke of that time his restless grey eyes became still and cold, like the
@@ -1189,52 +1153,52 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
change. He had commanded the <i>Narcissus</i> since she was built. He
loved his ship, and drove her unmercifully; for his secret ambition was to
make her accomplish some day a brilliantly quick passage which would be
- mentioned in nautical papers. He pronounced his owner's name with a
+ mentioned in nautical papers. He pronounced his owner’s name with a
sardonic smile, spoke but seldom to his officers, and reproved errors in a
gentle voice, with words that cut to the quick. His hair was iron-grey,
his face hard and of the colour of pump-leather. He shaved every morning
- of his life&mdash;at six&mdash;but once (being caught in a fierce
+ of his life—at six—but once (being caught in a fierce
hurricane eighty miles southwest of Mauritius) he had missed three
consecutive days. He feared naught but an unforgiving God, and wished to
- end his days in a little house, with a plot of ground attached&mdash;far
- in the country&mdash;out of sight of the sea.
+ end his days in a little house, with a plot of ground attached—far
+ in the country—out of sight of the sea.
</p>
<p>
He, the ruler of that minute world, seldom descended from the Olympian
- heights of his poop. Below him&mdash;at his feet, so to speak&mdash;common
+ heights of his poop. Below him—at his feet, so to speak—common
mortals led their busy and insignificant lives. Along the main deck, Mr.
Baker grunted in a manner bloodthirsty and innocuous; and kept all our
- noses to the grindstone, being&mdash;as he once remarked&mdash;paid for
+ noses to the grindstone, being—as he once remarked—paid for
doing that very thing. The men working about the deck were healthy and
- contented&mdash;as most seamen are, when once well out to sea. The true
+ contented—as most seamen are, when once well out to sea. The true
peace of God begins at any spot a thousand miles from the nearest land;
and when He sends there the messengers of His might it is not in terrible
wrath against crime, presumption, and folly, but paternally, to chasten
- simple hearts&mdash;ignorant hearts that know nothing of life, and beat
+ simple hearts—ignorant hearts that know nothing of life, and beat
undisturbed by envy or greed.
</p>
- <p>
+ <p class="p2">
In the evening the cleared decks had a reposeful aspect, resembling the
autumn of the earth. The sun was sinking to rest, wrapped in a mantle of
warm clouds. Forward, on the end of the spare spars, the boatswain and the
carpenter sat together with crossed arms; two men friendly, powerful, and
- deep-chested. Beside them the short, dumpy sailmaker&mdash;who had been in
- the Navy&mdash;related, between the whiffs of his pipe, impossible stories
+ deep-chested. Beside them the short, dumpy sailmaker—who had been in
+ the Navy—related, between the whiffs of his pipe, impossible stories
about Admirals. Couples tramped backwards and forwards, keeping step and
balance without effort, in a confined space. Pigs grunted in the big
pigstye. Belfast, leaning thoughtfully on his elbow, above the bars,
communed with them through the silence of his meditation. Fellows with
shirts open wide on sunburnt breasts sat upon the mooring bits, and all up
the steps of the forecastle ladders. By the foremast a few discussed in a
- circle the characteristics of a gentleman. One said:&mdash;&ldquo;It's money as
- does it.&rdquo; Another maintained:&mdash;&ldquo;No, it's the way they speak.&rdquo; Lame
+ circle the characteristics of a gentleman. One said:—“It’s money as
+ does it.” Another maintained:—“No, it’s the way they speak.” Lame
Knowles stumped up with an unwashed face (he had the distinction of being
the dirty man of the forecastle), and showing a few yellow fangs in a
- shrewd smile, explained craftily that he &ldquo;had seen some of their pants.&rdquo;
- The backsides of them&mdash;he had observed&mdash;were thinner than paper
+ shrewd smile, explained craftily that he “had seen some of their pants.”
+ The backsides of them—he had observed—were thinner than paper
from constant sitting down in offices, yet otherwise they looked
- first-rate and would last for years. It was all appearance. &ldquo;It was,&rdquo; he
- said, &ldquo;bloomin' easy to be a gentleman when you had a clean job for life.&rdquo;
+ first-rate and would last for years. It was all appearance. “It was,” he
+ said, “bloomin’ easy to be a gentleman when you had a clean job for life.”
They disputed endlessly, obstinate and childish; they repeated in shouts
and with inflamed faces their amazing arguments; while the soft breeze,
eddying down the enormous cavity of the foresail, distended above their
@@ -1255,11 +1219,11 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
officers listened leaning back, comfortably propped, and with superior
smiles. Belfast left off scratching the ear of his favourite pig, and,
open mouthed, tried with eager eyes to have his say. He lifted his arms,
- grimacing and baffled. From a distance Charley screamed at the ring:&mdash;&ldquo;I
- know about gentlemen more'n any of you. I've been intermit with 'em....
- I've blacked their boots.&rdquo; The cook, craning his neck to hear better, was
- scandalised. &ldquo;Keep your mouth shut when your elders speak, you impudent
- young heathen&mdash;you.&rdquo; &ldquo;All right, old Hallelujah, I'm done,&rdquo; answered
+ grimacing and baffled. From a distance Charley screamed at the ring:—“I
+ know about gentlemen more’n any of you. I’ve been intermit with ’em....
+ I’ve blacked their boots.” The cook, craning his neck to hear better, was
+ scandalised. “Keep your mouth shut when your elders speak, you impudent
+ young heathen—you.” “All right, old Hallelujah, I’m done,” answered
Charley, soothingly. At some opinion of dirty Knowles, delivered with an
air of supernatural cunning, a ripple of laughter ran along, rose like a
wave, burst with a startling roar. They stamped with both feet; they
@@ -1277,10 +1241,10 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
forecastle door. It became a murmur; it ended in a sighing groan. The
washerman plunged both his arms into the tub abruptly; the cook became
more crestfallen than an exposed backslider; the boatswain moved his
- shoulders uneasily; the carpenter got up with a spring and walked away&mdash;while
+ shoulders uneasily; the carpenter got up with a spring and walked away—while
the sailmaker seemed mentally to give his story up, and began to puff at
his pipe with sombre determination. In the blackness of the doorway a pair
- of eyes glimmered white, and big, and staring. Then James Wait's head
+ of eyes glimmered white, and big, and staring. Then James Wait’s head
protruding, became visible, as if suspended between the two hands that
grasped a doorpost on each side of the face. The tassel of his blue
woollen nightcap, cocked forward, danced gaily over his left eyelid. He
@@ -1292,7 +1256,7 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
mist emanated from him; a subtle and dismal influence; a something cold
and gloomy that floated out and settled on all the faces like a mourning
veil. The circle broke up. The joy of laughter died on stiffened lips.
- There was not a smile left among all the ship's company. Not a word was
+ There was not a smile left among all the ship’s company. Not a word was
spoken. Many turned their backs, trying to look unconcerned; others, with
averted heads, sent half-reluctant glances out of the corners of their
eyes. They resembled criminals conscious of misdeeds more than honest men
@@ -1305,17 +1269,17 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
</p>
<p>
No one went away. They waited in fascinated dread. He said ironically,
- with gasps between the words:&mdash;
+ with gasps between the words:—
</p>
<p>
- &ldquo;Thank you... chaps. You... are nice... and... quiet... you are! Yelling
- so... before... the door....&rdquo;
+ “Thank you... chaps. You... are nice... and... quiet... you are! Yelling
+ so... before... the door....”
</p>
<p>
He made a longer pause, during which he worked his ribs in an exaggerated
labour of breathing. It was intolerable. Feet were shuffled. Belfast let
out a groan; but Donkin above blinked his red eyelids with invisible
- eyelashes, and smiled bitterly over the nigger's head.
+ eyelashes, and smiled bitterly over the nigger’s head.
</p>
<p>
The nigger went on again with surprising ease. He gasped no more, and his
@@ -1323,19 +1287,19 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
cavern. He was contemptuously angry.
</p>
<p>
- &ldquo;I tried to get a wink of sleep. You know I can't sleep o' nights. And you
+ “I tried to get a wink of sleep. You know I can’t sleep o’ nights. And you
come jabbering near the door here like a blooming lot of old women.... You
think yourselves good shipmates. Do you?... Much you care for a dying
- man!&rdquo;
+ man!”
</p>
<p>
- Belfast spun away from the pigstye. &ldquo;Jimmy,&rdquo; he cried tremulously, &ldquo;if you
- hadn't been sick I would&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+ Belfast spun away from the pigstye. “Jimmy,” he cried tremulously, “if you
+ hadn’t been sick I would———”
</p>
<p>
- He stopped. The nigger waited awhile, then said, in a gloomy tone:&mdash;&ldquo;You
- would.... What? Go an' fight another such one as yourself. Leave me alone.
- It won't be for long. I'll soon die.... It's coming right enough!&rdquo;
+ He stopped. The nigger waited awhile, then said, in a gloomy tone:—“You
+ would.... What? Go an’ fight another such one as yourself. Leave me alone.
+ It won’t be for long. I’ll soon die.... It’s coming right enough!”
</p>
<p>
Men stood around very still and with exasperated eyes. It was just what
@@ -1347,8 +1311,8 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
companion; he paraded it unceasingly before us with an affectionate
persistence that made its presence indubitable, and at the same time
incredible. No man could be suspected of such monstrous friendship! Was he
- a reality&mdash;or was he a sham&mdash;this ever-expected visitor of
- Jimmy's? We hesitated between pity and mistrust, while, on the slightest
+ a reality—or was he a sham—this ever-expected visitor of
+ Jimmy’s? We hesitated between pity and mistrust, while, on the slightest
provocation, he shook before our eyes the bones of his bothersome and
infamous skeleton. He was for ever trotting him out. He would talk of that
coming death as though it had been already there, as if it had been
@@ -1357,55 +1321,55 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
daily with our occupations, with our leisure, with our amusements. We had
no songs and no music in the evening, because Jimmy (we all lovingly
called him Jimmy, to conceal our hate of his accomplice) had managed, with
- that prospective decease of his, to disturb even Archie's mental balance.
+ that prospective decease of his, to disturb even Archie’s mental balance.
Archie was the owner of the concertina; but after a couple of stinging
- lectures from Jimmy he refused to play any more. He said:&mdash;&ldquo;Yon's an
- uncanny joker. I dinna ken what's wrang wi' him, but there's something
- verra wrang, verra wrang. It's nae manner of use asking me. I won't play.&rdquo;
+ lectures from Jimmy he refused to play any more. He said:—“Yon’s an
+ uncanny joker. I dinna ken what’s wrang wi’ him, but there’s something
+ verra wrang, verra wrang. It’s nae manner of use asking me. I won’t play.”
Our singers became mute because Jimmy was a dying man. For the same reason
- no chap&mdash;as Knowles remarked&mdash;could &ldquo;drive in a nail to hang his
- few poor rags upon,&rdquo; without being made aware of the enormity he committed
- in disturbing Jimmy's interminable last moments. At night, instead of the
- cheerful yell, &ldquo;One bell! Turn out! Do you hear there? Hey! hey! hey! Show
- leg!&rdquo; the watches were called man by man, in whispers, so as not to
- interfere with Jimmy's, possibly, last slumber on earth. True, he was
+ no chap—as Knowles remarked—could “drive in a nail to hang his
+ few poor rags upon,” without being made aware of the enormity he committed
+ in disturbing Jimmy’s interminable last moments. At night, instead of the
+ cheerful yell, “One bell! Turn out! Do you hear there? Hey! hey! hey! Show
+ leg!” the watches were called man by man, in whispers, so as not to
+ interfere with Jimmy’s, possibly, last slumber on earth. True, he was
always awake, and managed, as we sneaked out on deck, to plant in our
backs some cutting remark that, for the moment, made us feel as if we had
been brutes, and afterwards made us suspect ourselves of being fools. We
- spoke in low tones within that fo'c'sle as though it had been a church. We
+ spoke in low tones within that fo’c’sle as though it had been a church. We
ate our meals in silence and dread, for Jimmy was capricious with his
food, and railed bitterly at the salt meat, at the biscuits, at the tea,
- as at articles unfit for human consumption&mdash;&ldquo;let alone for a dying
- man!&rdquo; He would say:&mdash;&ldquo;Can't you find a better slice of meat for a
- sick man who's trying to get home to be cured&mdash;or buried? But there!
+ as at articles unfit for human consumption—“let alone for a dying
+ man!” He would say:—“Can’t you find a better slice of meat for a
+ sick man who’s trying to get home to be cured—or buried? But there!
If I had a chance, you fellows would do away with it. You would poison me.
- Look at what you have given me!&rdquo; We served him in his bed with rage and
+ Look at what you have given me!” We served him in his bed with rage and
humility, as though we had been the base courtiers of a hated prince; and
he rewarded us by his unconciliating criticism. He had found the secret of
keeping for ever on the run the fundamental imbecility of mankind; he had
the secret of life, that confounded dying man, and he made himself master
of every moment of our existence. We grew desperate, and remained
submissive. Emotional little Belfast was for ever on the verge of assault
- or on the verge of tears. One evening he confided to Archie:&mdash;&ldquo;For a
- ha'penny I would knock his ugly black head off&mdash;the skulking dodger!&rdquo;
+ or on the verge of tears. One evening he confided to Archie:—“For a
+ ha’penny I would knock his ugly black head off—the skulking dodger!”
And the straightforward Archie pretended to be shocked! Such was the
- infernal spell which that casual St. Kitt's nigger had cast upon our
+ infernal spell which that casual St. Kitt’s nigger had cast upon our
guileless manhood! But the same night Belfast stole from the galley the
- officers' Sunday fruit pie, to tempt the fastidious appetite of Jimmy. He
- endangered not only his long friendship with the cook but also&mdash;as it
- appeared&mdash;his eternal welfare. The cook was overwhelmed with grief;
+ officers’ Sunday fruit pie, to tempt the fastidious appetite of Jimmy. He
+ endangered not only his long friendship with the cook but also—as it
+ appeared—his eternal welfare. The cook was overwhelmed with grief;
he did not know the culprit but he knew that wickedness flourished; he
knew that Satan was abroad amongst those men, whom he looked upon as in
some way under his spiritual care. Whenever he saw three or four of us
standing together he would leave his stove, to run out and preach. We fled
from him; and only Charley (who knew the thief) affronted the cook with a
- candid gaze which irritated the good man. &ldquo;It's you, I believe,&rdquo; he
- groaned, sorrowful and with a patch of soot on his chin. &ldquo;It's you. You
- are a brand for the burning! No more of your socks in my galley.&rdquo; Soon,
+ candid gaze which irritated the good man. “It’s you, I believe,” he
+ groaned, sorrowful and with a patch of soot on his chin. “It’s you. You
+ are a brand for the burning! No more of your socks in my galley.” Soon,
unofficially, the information was spread about that, should there be
another case of stealing, our marmalade (an extra allowance: half a pound
per man) would be stopped. Mr. Baker ceased to heap jocular abuse upon his
- favourites, and grunted suspiciously at all. The captain's cold eyes, high
+ favourites, and grunted suspiciously at all. The captain’s cold eyes, high
up on the poop, glittered mistrustful, as he surveyed us trooping in a
small mob from halyards to braces for the usual evening pull at all the
ropes. Such stealing in a merchant ship is difficult to check, and may be
@@ -1416,38 +1380,38 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
</p>
<p>
Then illogical Belfast reproached our nigger with great fury. James Wait,
- with his elbow on the pillow, choked, gasped out:&mdash;&ldquo;Did I ask you to
- bone the dratted thing? Blow your blamed pie. It has made me worse&mdash;you
- little Irish lunatic, you!&rdquo; Belfast, with scarlet face and trembling lips,
+ with his elbow on the pillow, choked, gasped out:—“Did I ask you to
+ bone the dratted thing? Blow your blamed pie. It has made me worse—you
+ little Irish lunatic, you!” Belfast, with scarlet face and trembling lips,
made a dash at him. Every man in the forecastle rose with a shout. There
- was a moment of wild tumult. Some one shrieked piercingly:&mdash;&ldquo;Easy,
- Belfast! Easy!...&rdquo; We expected Belfast to strangle Wait without more ado.
- Dust flew. We heard through it the nigger's cough, metallic and explosive
+ was a moment of wild tumult. Some one shrieked piercingly:—“Easy,
+ Belfast! Easy!...” We expected Belfast to strangle Wait without more ado.
+ Dust flew. We heard through it the nigger’s cough, metallic and explosive
like a gong. Next moment we saw Belfast hanging over him. He was saying
- plaintively:&mdash;&ldquo;Don't! Don't, Jimmy! Don't be like that. An angel
- couldn't put up with ye&mdash;sick as ye are.&rdquo; He looked round at us from
- Jimmy's bedside, his comical mouth twitching, and through tearful eyes;
+ plaintively:—“Don’t! Don’t, Jimmy! Don’t be like that. An angel
+ couldn’t put up with ye—sick as ye are.” He looked round at us from
+ Jimmy’s bedside, his comical mouth twitching, and through tearful eyes;
then he tried to put straight the disarranged blankets. The unceasing
whisper of the sea filled the forecastle. Was James Wait frightened, or
touched, or repentant? He lay on his back with a hand to his side, and as
motionless as if his expected visitor had come at last. Belfast fumbled
- about his feet, repeating with emotion:&mdash;&ldquo;Yes. We know. Ye are bad,
- but.... Just say what ye want done, and.... We all know ye are bad&mdash;very
- bad....&rdquo; No! Decidedly James Wait was not touched or repentant. Truth to
+ about his feet, repeating with emotion:—“Yes. We know. Ye are bad,
+ but.... Just say what ye want done, and.... We all know ye are bad—very
+ bad....” No! Decidedly James Wait was not touched or repentant. Truth to
say, he seemed rather startled. He sat up with incredible suddenness and
- ease. &ldquo;Ah! You think I am bad, do you?&rdquo; he said gloomily, in his clearest
+ ease. “Ah! You think I am bad, do you?” he said gloomily, in his clearest
baritone voice (to hear him speak sometimes you would never think there
- was anything wrong with that man). &ldquo;Do you?... Well, act according! Some
- of you haven't sense enough to put a blanket shipshape over a sick man.
- There! Leave it alone! I can die anyhow!&rdquo; Belfast turned away limply with
+ was anything wrong with that man). “Do you?... Well, act according! Some
+ of you haven’t sense enough to put a blanket shipshape over a sick man.
+ There! Leave it alone! I can die anyhow!” Belfast turned away limply with
a gesture of discouragement. In the silence of the forecastle, full of
- interested men, Donkin pronounced distinctly:&mdash;&ldquo;Well, I'm blowed!&rdquo;
+ interested men, Donkin pronounced distinctly:—“Well, I’m blowed!”
and sniggered. Wait looked at him. He looked at him in a quite friendly
manner. Nobody could tell what would please our incomprehensible invalid:
but for us the scorn of that snigger was hard to bear.
</p>
<p>
- Donkin's position in the forecastle was distinguished but unsafe. He stood
+ Donkin’s position in the forecastle was distinguished but unsafe. He stood
on the bad eminence of a general dislike. He was left alone; and in his
isolation he could do nothing but think of the gales of the Cape of Good
Hope and envy us the possession of warm clothing and waterproofs. Our
@@ -1456,88 +1420,88 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
felt instinctively that no man, when the need arose, would offer to share
them with him. He was impudently cringing to us and systematically
insolent to the officers. He anticipated the best results, for himself,
- from such a line of conduct&mdash;and was mistaken. Such natures forget
- that under extreme provocation men will be just&mdash;whether they want to
- be so or not. Donkin's insolence to long-suffering Mr. Baker became at
+ from such a line of conduct—and was mistaken. Such natures forget
+ that under extreme provocation men will be just—whether they want to
+ be so or not. Donkin’s insolence to long-suffering Mr. Baker became at
last intolerable to us, and we rejoiced when the mate, one dark night,
tamed him for good.
</p>
<p>
It was done neatly, with great decency and decorum, and with little noise.
- We had been called&mdash;just before midnight&mdash;to trim the yards, and
- Donkin&mdash;as usual&mdash;made insulting remarks. We stood sleepily in a
+ We had been called—just before midnight—to trim the yards, and
+ Donkin—as usual—made insulting remarks. We stood sleepily in a
row with the forebrace in our hands waiting for the next order, and heard
in the darkness a scuffly trampling of feet, an exclamation of surprise,
- sounds of cuffs and slaps, suppressed, hissing whispers:&mdash;&ldquo;Ah! Will
- you!&rdquo;... &ldquo;Don't!... Don't!&rdquo;... &ldquo;Then behave.&rdquo;... &ldquo;Oh! Oh!...&rdquo; Afterwards
- there were soft thuds mixed with the rattle of iron things as if a man's
+ sounds of cuffs and slaps, suppressed, hissing whispers:—“Ah! Will
+ you!”... “Don’t!... Don’t!”... “Then behave.”... “Oh! Oh!...” Afterwards
+ there were soft thuds mixed with the rattle of iron things as if a man’s
body had been tumbling helplessly amongst the main-pump rods. Before we
- could realise the situation, Mr. Baker's voice was heard very near and a
- little impatient:&mdash;&ldquo;Haul away, men! Lay back on that rope!&rdquo; And we
+ could realise the situation, Mr. Baker’s voice was heard very near and a
+ little impatient:—“Haul away, men! Lay back on that rope!” And we
did lay back on the rope with great alacrity. As if nothing had happened,
the chief mate went on trimming the yards with his usual and exasperating
- fastidiousness. We didn't at the time see anything of Donkin, and did not
+ fastidiousness. We didn’t at the time see anything of Donkin, and did not
care. Had the chief officer thrown him overboard, no man would have said
- as much as &ldquo;Hallo! he's gone!&rdquo; But, in truth, no great harm was done&mdash;even
+ as much as “Hallo! he’s gone!” But, in truth, no great harm was done—even
if Donkin did lose one of his front teeth. We perceived this in the
morning, and preserved a ceremonious silence: the etiquette of the
forecastle commanded us to be blind and dumb in such a case, and we
cherished the decencies of our life more than ordinary landsmen respect
theirs. Charley, with unpardonable want of <i>savoir vivre</i>, yelled
- out:&mdash;&ldquo;'Ave you been to your dentyst?... Hurt ye, didn't it?&rdquo; He got
+ out:—“’Ave you been to your dentyst?... Hurt ye, didn’t it?” He got
a box on the ear from one of his best friends. The boy was surprised, and
remained plunged in grief for at least three hours. We were sorry for him,
but youth requires even more discipline than age. Donkin grinned
venomously. From that day he became pitiless; told Jimmy that he was a
- &ldquo;black fraud&rdquo;; hinted to us that we were an imbecile lot, daily taken in
+ “black fraud”; hinted to us that we were an imbecile lot, daily taken in
by a vulgar nigger. And Jimmy seemed to like the fellow!
</p>
<p>
Singleton lived untouched by human emotions. Taciturn and unsmiling, he
- breathed amongst us&mdash;in that alone resembling the rest of the crowd.
+ breathed amongst us—in that alone resembling the rest of the crowd.
We were trying to be decent chaps, and found it jolly difficult; we
oscillated between the desire of virtue and the fear of ridicule; we
wished to save ourselves from the pain of remorse, but did not want to be
- made the contemptible dupes of our sentiment. Jimmy's hateful accomplice
+ made the contemptible dupes of our sentiment. Jimmy’s hateful accomplice
seemed to have blown with his impure breath undreamt of subtleties into
our hearts. We were disturbed and cowardly. That we knew. Singleton seemed
to know nothing, understand nothing. We had thought him till then as wise
- as he looked, but now we dared, at times, suspect him of being stupid&mdash;from
+ as he looked, but now we dared, at times, suspect him of being stupid—from
old age. One day, however, at dinner, as we sat on our boxes round a tin
dish that stood on the deck within the circle of our feet, Jimmy expressed
his general disgust with men and things in words that were particularly
disgusting. Singleton lifted his head. We became mute. The old man,
- addressing Jimmy, asked:&mdash;&ldquo;Are you dying?&rdquo; Thus interrogated, James
+ addressing Jimmy, asked:—“Are you dying?” Thus interrogated, James
Wait appeared horribly startled and confused. We all were startled. Mouths
remained open; hearts thumped, eyes blinked; a dropped tin fork rattled in
the dish; a man rose as if to go out, and stood still. In less than a
- minute Jimmy pulled himself together:&mdash;&ldquo;Why? Can't you see I am?&rdquo; he
- answered shakily. Singleton lifted a piece of soaked biscuit (&ldquo;his teeth&rdquo;&mdash;he
- declared&mdash;&ldquo;had no edge on them now&rdquo;) to his lips.&mdash;&ldquo;Well, get on
- with your dying,&rdquo; he said with venerable mildness; &ldquo;don't raise a blamed
- fuss with us over that job. We can't help you.&rdquo; Jimmy fell back in his
+ minute Jimmy pulled himself together:—“Why? Can’t you see I am?” he
+ answered shakily. Singleton lifted a piece of soaked biscuit (“his teeth”—he
+ declared—“had no edge on them now”) to his lips.—“Well, get on
+ with your dying,” he said with venerable mildness; “don’t raise a blamed
+ fuss with us over that job. We can’t help you.” Jimmy fell back in his
bunk, and for a long time lay very still wiping the perspiration off his
chin. The dinner-tins were put away quickly. On deck we discussed the
incident in whispers. Some showed a chuckling exultation. Many looked
grave. Wamibo, after long periods of staring dreaminess, attempted
abortive smiles; and one of the young Scandinavians, much tormented by
doubt, ventured in the second dog-watch to approach Singleton (the old man
- did not encourage us much to speak to him) and ask sheepishly:&mdash;&ldquo;You
- think he will die?&rdquo; Singleton looked up.&mdash;&ldquo;Why, of course he will
- die,&rdquo; he said deliberately. This seemed decisive. It was promptly imparted
+ did not encourage us much to speak to him) and ask sheepishly:—“You
+ think he will die?” Singleton looked up.—“Why, of course he will
+ die,” he said deliberately. This seemed decisive. It was promptly imparted
to every one by him who had consulted the oracle. Shy and eager, he would
- step up and with averted gaze recite his formula:&mdash;&ldquo;Old Singleton
- says he will die.&rdquo; It was a relief! At last we knew that our compassion
- would not be misplaced, and we could again smile without misgivings&mdash;but
- we reckoned without Donkin. Donkin &ldquo;didn't want to 'ave no truck with 'em
- dirty furriners.&rdquo; When Nilsen came to him with the news: &ldquo;Singleton says
- he will die,&rdquo; he answered him by a spiteful &ldquo;And so will you&mdash;you
- fat-headed Dutchman. Wish you Dutchmen were all dead&mdash;'stead comin'
- takin' our money inter your starvin' country.&rdquo; We were appalled. We
- perceived that after all Singleton's answer meant nothing. We began to
+ step up and with averted gaze recite his formula:—“Old Singleton
+ says he will die.” It was a relief! At last we knew that our compassion
+ would not be misplaced, and we could again smile without misgivings—but
+ we reckoned without Donkin. Donkin “didn’t want to ’ave no truck with ’em
+ dirty furriners.” When Nilsen came to him with the news: “Singleton says
+ he will die,” he answered him by a spiteful “And so will you—you
+ fat-headed Dutchman. Wish you Dutchmen were all dead—’stead comin’
+ takin’ our money inter your starvin’ country.” We were appalled. We
+ perceived that after all Singleton’s answer meant nothing. We began to
hate him for making fun of us. All our certitudes were going; we were on
doubtful terms with our officers; the cook had given us up for lost; we
- had overheard the boatswain's opinion that &ldquo;we were a crowd of softies.&rdquo;
+ had overheard the boatswain’s opinion that “we were a crowd of softies.”
We suspected Jimmy, one another, and even our very selves. We did not know
what to do. At every insignificant turn of our humble life we met Jimmy
overbearing and blocking the way, arm-in-arm with his awful and veiled
@@ -1547,50 +1511,50 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
It began a week after leaving Bombay and came on us stealthily like any
other great misfortune. Every one had remarked that Jimmy from the first
was very slack at his work; but we thought it simply the outcome of his
- philosophy of life. Donkin said:&mdash;&ldquo;You put no more weight on a rope
- than a bloody sparrer.&rdquo; He disdained him. Belfast, ready for a fight,
- exclaimed provokingly:&mdash;&ldquo;You don't kill yourself, old man!&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;Would
- you?&rdquo; he retorted with extreme, scorn&mdash;and Belfast retired. One
- morning, as we were washing decks, Mr. Baker called to him:&mdash;&ldquo;Bring
- your broom over here, Wait.&rdquo; He strolled languidly.
- </p>
- <p>
- &ldquo;Move yourself! Ough!&rdquo; grunted Mr. Baker; &ldquo;what's the matter with your
- hind legs?&rdquo; He stopped dead short. He gazed slowly with eyes that bulged
- out with an expression audacious and sad.&mdash;&ldquo;It isn't my legs,&rdquo; he
- said, &ldquo;it's my lungs.&rdquo; Everybody listened.&mdash;&ldquo;What's... Ough!...
- What's wrong with them?&rdquo; inquired Mr. Baker. All the watch stood around on
+ philosophy of life. Donkin said:—“You put no more weight on a rope
+ than a bloody sparrer.” He disdained him. Belfast, ready for a fight,
+ exclaimed provokingly:—“You don’t kill yourself, old man!”—“Would
+ you?” he retorted with extreme, scorn—and Belfast retired. One
+ morning, as we were washing decks, Mr. Baker called to him:—“Bring
+ your broom over here, Wait.” He strolled languidly.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Move yourself! Ough!” grunted Mr. Baker; “what’s the matter with your
+ hind legs?” He stopped dead short. He gazed slowly with eyes that bulged
+ out with an expression audacious and sad.—“It isn’t my legs,” he
+ said, “it’s my lungs.” Everybody listened.—“What’s... Ough!...
+ What’s wrong with them?” inquired Mr. Baker. All the watch stood around on
the wet deck, grinning, and with brooms or buckets in their hands. He said
- mournfully:&mdash;&ldquo;Going&mdash;or gone. Can't you see I'm a dying man? I
- know it!&rdquo; Mr. Baker was disgusted.&mdash;&ldquo;Then why the devil did you ship
- aboard here?&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;I must live till I die&mdash;mustn't I?&rdquo; he replied.
- The grins became audible.&mdash;&ldquo;Go off my deck&mdash;get out of my
- sight,&rdquo; said Mr. Baker. He was nonplussed. It was a unique experience.
+ mournfully:—“Going—or gone. Can’t you see I’m a dying man? I
+ know it!” Mr. Baker was disgusted.—“Then why the devil did you ship
+ aboard here?”—“I must live till I die—mustn’t I?” he replied.
+ The grins became audible.—“Go off my deck—get out of my
+ sight,” said Mr. Baker. He was nonplussed. It was a unique experience.
James Wait, obedient, dropped his broom, and walked slowly forward. A
burst of laughter followed him. It was too funny. All hands laughed....
They laughed!... Alas!
</p>
<p>
He became the tormentor of all our moments; he was worse than a
- nightmare. You couldn't see that there was anything wrong with him: a
- nigger does not show. He was not very fat&mdash;certainly&mdash;but then
+ nightmare. You couldn’t see that there was anything wrong with him: a
+ nigger does not show. He was not very fat—certainly—but then
he was no leaner than other niggers we had known. He coughed often, but
the most prejudiced person could perceive that, mostly, he coughed when it
- suited his purpose. He wouldn't, or couldn't, do his work&mdash;and he
- wouldn't lie-up. One day he would skip aloft with the best of them, and
+ suited his purpose. He wouldn’t, or couldn’t, do his work—and he
+ wouldn’t lie-up. One day he would skip aloft with the best of them, and
next time we would be obliged to risk our lives to get his limp body down.
He was reported, he was examined; he was remonstrated with, threatened,
cajoled, lectured. He was called into the cabin to interview the captain.
There were wild rumours. It was said he had cheeked the old man; it was
- said he had frightened him. Charley maintained that the &ldquo;skipper, weepin,'
- 'as giv' 'im 'is blessin' an' a pot of jam.&rdquo; Knowles had it from the
+ said he had frightened him. Charley maintained that the “skipper, weepin’,
+ ’as giv’ ’im ’is blessin’ an’ a pot of jam.” Knowles had it from the
steward that the unspeakable Jimmy had been reeling against the cabin
furniture; that he had groaned; that he had complained of general
- brutality and disbelief; and had ended by coughing all over the old man's
+ brutality and disbelief; and had ended by coughing all over the old man’s
meteorological journals which were then spread on the table. At any rate,
Wait returned forward supported by the steward, who, in a pained and
- shocked voice, entreated us:&mdash;&ldquo;Here! Catch hold of him, one of you.
- He is to lie-up.&rdquo; Jimmy drank a tin mugful of coffee, and, after bullying
+ shocked voice, entreated us:—“Here! Catch hold of him, one of you.
+ He is to lie-up.” Jimmy drank a tin mugful of coffee, and, after bullying
first one and then another, went to bed. He remained there most of the
time, but when it suited him would come on deck and appear amongst us. He
was scornful and brooding; he looked ahead upon the sea, and no one could
@@ -1601,33 +1565,33 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
He refused steadily all medicine; he threw sago and cornflour overboard
till the steward got tired of bringing it to him. He asked for paregoric.
They sent him a big bottle; enough to poison a wilderness of babies. He
- kept it between his mattress and the deal lining of the ship's side; and
+ kept it between his mattress and the deal lining of the ship’s side; and
nobody ever saw him take a dose. Donkin abused him to his face, jeered at
him while he gasped; and the same day Wait would lend him a warm jersey.
Once Donkin reviled him for half an hour; reproached him with the extra
- work his malingering gave to the watch; and ended by calling him &ldquo;a
- black-faced swine.&rdquo; Under the spell of our accursed perversity we were
+ work his malingering gave to the watch; and ended by calling him “a
+ black-faced swine.” Under the spell of our accursed perversity we were
horror-struck. But Jimmy positively seemed to revel in that abuse. It made
- him look cheerful&mdash;and Donkin had a pair of old sea boots thrown at
- him. &ldquo;Here, you East-end trash,&rdquo; boomed Wait, &ldquo;you may have that.&rdquo;
+ him look cheerful—and Donkin had a pair of old sea boots thrown at
+ him. “Here, you East-end trash,” boomed Wait, “you may have that.”
</p>
<p>
At last Mr. Baker had to tell the captain that James Wait was disturbing
- the peace of the ship. &ldquo;Knock discipline on the head&mdash;he will, Ough,&rdquo;
+ the peace of the ship. “Knock discipline on the head—he will, Ough,”
grunted Mr. Baker. As a matter of fact, the starboard watch came as near
as possible to refusing duty, when ordered one morning by the boatswain to
- wash out their forecastle. It appears Jimmy objected to a wet floor&mdash;and
+ wash out their forecastle. It appears Jimmy objected to a wet floor—and
that morning we were in a compassionate mood. We thought the boatswain a
- brute, and, practically, told him so. Only Mr. Baker's delicate tact
+ brute, and, practically, told him so. Only Mr. Baker’s delicate tact
prevented an all-fired row: he refused to take us seriously. He came
bustling forward, and called us many unpolite names but in such a hearty
and seamanlike manner that we began to feel ashamed of ourselves. In
truth, we thought him much too good a sailor to annoy him willingly: and
- after all Jimmy might have been a fraud&mdash;probably was! The forecastle
+ after all Jimmy might have been a fraud—probably was! The forecastle
got a clean up that morning; but in the afternoon a sick-bay was fitted up
in the deck-house. It was a nice little cabin opening on deck, and with
- two berths. Jimmy's belongings were transported there, and then&mdash;notwithstanding
- his protests&mdash;Jimmy himself. He said he couldn't walk. Four men
+ two berths. Jimmy’s belongings were transported there, and then—notwithstanding
+ his protests—Jimmy himself. He said he couldn’t walk. Four men
carried him on a blanket. He complained that he would have to die there
alone, like a dog. We grieved for him, and were delighted to have him
removed from the forecastle. We attended him as before. The galley was
@@ -1645,11 +1609,11 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
privilege.
</p>
<p>
- <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003">
+ <a id="link2HCH0003">
<!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
</p>
<div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ <br ><br ><br ><br >
</div>
<h2>
CHAPTER THREE
@@ -1662,18 +1626,18 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
of the soaked ropes with groans and sighs, while their officers, sulky and
dripping with rain water, unceasingly ordered them about in wearied
voices. During the short respites they looked with disgust into the
- smarting palms of their stiff hands, and asked one another bitterly:&mdash;&ldquo;Who
- would be a sailor if he could be a farmer?&rdquo; All the tempers were spoilt,
+ smarting palms of their stiff hands, and asked one another bitterly:—“Who
+ would be a sailor if he could be a farmer?” All the tempers were spoilt,
and no man cared what he said. One black night, when the watch, panting in
the heat and half-drowned with the rain, had been through four mortal
- hours hunted from brace to brace, Belfast declared that he would &ldquo;chuck
- the sea for ever and go in a steamer.&rdquo; This was excessive, no doubt.
+ hours hunted from brace to brace, Belfast declared that he would “chuck
+ the sea for ever and go in a steamer.” This was excessive, no doubt.
Captain Allistoun, with great self-control, would mutter sadly to Mr.
- Baker:&mdash;&ldquo;It is not so bad&mdash;not so bad,&rdquo; when he had managed to
+ Baker:—“It is not so bad—not so bad,” when he had managed to
shove, and dodge, and manoeuvre his smart ship through sixty miles in
twenty-four hours. From the doorstep of the little cabin, Jimmy, chin in
hand, watched our distasteful labours with insolent and melancholy eyes.
- We spoke to him gently&mdash;and out of his sight exchanged sour smiles.
+ We spoke to him gently—and out of his sight exchanged sour smiles.
</p>
<p>
Then, again, with a fair wind and under a clear sky, the ship went on
@@ -1715,10 +1679,10 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
<p>
They watched the weather and the ship as men on shore watch the momentous
chances of fortune. Captain Allistoun never left the deck, as though he
- had been part of the ship's fittings. Now and then the steward, shivering,
+ had been part of the ship’s fittings. Now and then the steward, shivering,
but always in shirt sleeves, would struggle towards him with some hot
coffee, half of which the gale blew out of the cup before it reached the
- master's lips. He drank what was left gravely in one long gulp, while
+ master’s lips. He drank what was left gravely in one long gulp, while
heavy sprays pattered loudly on his oilskin coat, the seas swishing broke
about his high boots; and he never took his eyes off the ship. He kept his
gaze riveted upon her as a loving man watches the unselfish toil of a
@@ -1734,7 +1698,7 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
loved by men. The <i>Narcissus</i> was one of that perfect brood. Less
perfect than many perhaps, but she was ours, and, consequently,
incomparable. We were proud of her. In Bombay, ignorant landlubbers
- alluded to her as that &ldquo;pretty grey ship.&rdquo; Pretty! A scurvy meed of
+ alluded to her as that “pretty grey ship.” Pretty! A scurvy meed of
commendation! We knew she was the most magnificent sea-boat ever launched.
We tried to forget that, like many good sea-boats, she was at times rather
crank. She was exacting. She wanted care in loading and handling, and no
@@ -1742,18 +1706,18 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
of mere men! The ship knew, and sometimes would correct the presumptuous
human ignorance by the wholesome discipline of fear. We had heard ominous
stories about past voyages. The cook (technically a seaman, but in reality
- no sailor)&mdash;the cook, when unstrung by some misfortune, such as the
+ no sailor)—the cook, when unstrung by some misfortune, such as the
rolling over of a saucepan, would mutter gloomily while he wiped the
- floor:&mdash;&ldquo;There! Look at what she has done! Some voy'ge she will drown
- all hands! You'll see if she won't.&rdquo; To which the steward, snatching in
+ floor:—“There! Look at what she has done! Some voy’ge she will drown
+ all hands! You’ll see if she won’t.” To which the steward, snatching in
the galley a moment to draw breath in the hurry of his worried life, would
- remark philosophically:&mdash;&ldquo;Those that see won't tell, anyhow. I don't
- want to see it.&rdquo; We derided those fears. Our hearts went out to the old
+ remark philosophically:—“Those that see won’t tell, anyhow. I don’t
+ want to see it.” We derided those fears. Our hearts went out to the old
man when he pressed her hard so as to make her hold her own, hold to every
inch gained to windward; when he made her, under reefed sails, leap
obliquely at enormous waves. The men, knitted together aft into a ready
group by the first sharp order of an officer coming to take charge of the
- deck in bad weather:&mdash;&ldquo;Keep handy the watch,&rdquo; stood admiring her
+ deck in bad weather:—“Keep handy the watch,” stood admiring her
valiance. Their eyes blinked in the wind; their dark faces were wet with
drops of water more salt and bitter than human tears; beards and
moustaches, soaked, hung straight and dripping like fine seaweed. They
@@ -1761,22 +1725,22 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
swaying clumsily, stiff and bulky in glistening oilskins, they resembled
men strangely equipped for some fabulous adventure. Whenever she rose
easily to a towering green sea, elbows dug ribs, faces brightened, lips
- murmured:&mdash;&ldquo;Didn't she do it cleverly,&rdquo; and all the heads turning
+ murmured:—“Didn’t she do it cleverly,” and all the heads turning
like one watched with sardonic grins the foiled wave go roaring to
leeward, white with the foam of a monstrous rage. But when she had not
been quick enough and, struck heavily, lay over trembling under the blow,
we clutched at ropes, and looking up at the narrow bands of drenched and
- strained sails waving desperately aloft, we thought in our hearts:&mdash;&ldquo;No
- wonder. Poor thing!&rdquo;
+ strained sails waving desperately aloft, we thought in our hearts:—“No
+ wonder. Poor thing!”
</p>
<p>
The thirty-second day out of Bombay began inauspiciously. In the morning a
sea smashed one of the galley doors. We dashed in through lots of steam
- and found the cook very wet and indignant with the ship:&mdash;&ldquo;She's
- getting worse every day. She's trying to drown me in front of my own
- stove!&rdquo; He was very angry. We pacified him, and the carpenter, though
+ and found the cook very wet and indignant with the ship:—“She’s
+ getting worse every day. She’s trying to drown me in front of my own
+ stove!” He was very angry. We pacified him, and the carpenter, though
washed away twice from there, managed to repair the door. Through that
- accident our dinner was not ready till late, but it didn't matter in the
+ accident our dinner was not ready till late, but it didn’t matter in the
end because Knowles, who went to fetch it, got knocked down by a sea and
the dinner went over the side. Captain Allistoun, looking more hard and
thin-lipped than ever, hung on to full topsails and foresail, and would
@@ -1786,16 +1750,16 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
been blind or weary of life, she put her nose deliberately into a big wave
and swept the decks from end to end. As the boatswain observed with marked
annoyance, while we were splashing about in a body to try and save a
- worthless wash-tub:&mdash;&ldquo;Every blooming thing in the ship is going
- overboard this afternoon.&rdquo; Venerable Singleton broke his habitual silence
- and said with a glance aloft:&mdash;&ldquo;The old man's in a temper with the
- weather, but it's no good bein' angry with the winds of heaven.&rdquo; Jimmy had
+ worthless wash-tub:—“Every blooming thing in the ship is going
+ overboard this afternoon.” Venerable Singleton broke his habitual silence
+ and said with a glance aloft:—“The old man’s in a temper with the
+ weather, but it’s no good bein’ angry with the winds of heaven.” Jimmy had
shut his door, of course. We knew he was dry and comfortable within his
little cabin, and in our absurd way were pleased one moment, exasperated
the next, by that certitude. Donkin skulked shamelessly, uneasy and
- miserable. He grumbled:&mdash;&ldquo;I'm perishin' with cold outside in bloomin'
- wet rags, an' that 'ere black sojer sits dry on a blamed chest full of
- bloomin' clothes; blank his black soul!&rdquo; We took no notice of him; we
+ miserable. He grumbled:—“I’m perishin’ with cold outside in bloomin’
+ wet rags, an’ that ’ere black sojer sits dry on a blamed chest full of
+ bloomin’ clothes; blank his black soul!” We took no notice of him; we
hardly gave a thought to Jimmy and his bosom friend. There was no leisure
for idle probing of hearts. Sails blew adrift. Things broke loose. Cold
and wet, we were washed about the deck while trying to repair damages. The
@@ -1807,16 +1771,16 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
and irresistible motion, brought her spars to windward in the teeth of the
screeching squall. Out of the abysmal darkness of the black cloud overhead
white hail streamed on her, rattled on the rigging, leaped in handfuls off
- the yards, rebounded on the deck&mdash;round and gleaming in the murky
+ the yards, rebounded on the deck—round and gleaming in the murky
turmoil like a shower of pearls. It passed away. For a moment a livid sun
shot horizontally the last rays of sinister light between the hills of
- steep, rolling waves. Then a wild night rushed in&mdash;stamped out in a
+ steep, rolling waves. Then a wild night rushed in—stamped out in a
great howl that dismal remnant of a stormy day.
</p>
<p>
There was no sleep on board that night. Most seamen remember in their life
one or two such nights of a culminating gale. Nothing seems left of the
- whole universe but darkness, clamour, fury&mdash;and the ship. And like
+ whole universe but darkness, clamour, fury—and the ship. And like
the last vestige of a shattered creation she drifts, bearing an anguished
remnant of sinful mankind, through the distress, tumult, and pain of an
avenging terror. No one slept in the forecastle. The tin oil-lamp
@@ -1852,13 +1816,13 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
cruel battering of the seas. Perhaps for the first time in the history of
the merchant service the watch, told to go below, did not leave the deck,
as if compelled to remain there by the fascination of a venomous violence.
- At every heavy gust men, huddled together, whispered to one another,"It
- can blow no harder,&rdquo; and presently the gale would give them the lie with a
+ At every heavy gust men, huddled together, whispered to one another,—“It
+ can blow no harder,”— and presently the gale would give them the lie with a
piercing shriek, and drive their breath back into their throats. A fierce
squall seemed to burst asunder the thick mass of sooty vapours; and above
the wrack of torn clouds glimpses could be caught of the high moon rushing
- backwards with frightful speed over the sky, right into the wind's eye.
- Many hung their heads, muttering that it &ldquo;turned their inwards out&rdquo; to
+ backwards with frightful speed over the sky, right into the wind’s eye.
+ Many hung their heads, muttering that it “turned their inwards out” to
look at it. Soon the clouds closed up and the world again became a raging,
blind darkness that howled, flinging at the lonely ship salt sprays and
sleet.
@@ -1866,22 +1830,22 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
<p>
About half-past seven the pitchy obscurity round us turned a ghastly grey,
and we knew that the sun had risen. This unnatural and threatening
- daylight, in which we could see one another's wild eyes and drawn faces,
+ daylight, in which we could see one another’s wild eyes and drawn faces,
was only an added tax on our endurance. The horizon seemed to have come on
- all sides within arm's length of the ship. Into that narrowed circle
+ all sides within arm’s length of the ship. Into that narrowed circle
furious seas leaped in, struck, and leaped out. A rain of salt heavy
drops flew aslant like mist. The main-topsail had to be goose-winged, and
with stolid resignation every one prepared to go aloft once more; but the
officers yelled, pushed back, and at last we understood that no more men
would be allowed to go on the yard than were absolutely necessary for the
work. As at any moment the masts were likely to be jumped out or blown
- overboard, we concluded that the captain didn't want to see all his crowd
+ overboard, we concluded that the captain didn’t want to see all his crowd
go over the side at once. That was reasonable. The watch then on duty, led
by Mr. Creighton, began to struggle up the rigging. The wind flattened
them against the ratlines; then, easing a little, would let them ascend a
couple of steps; and again, with a sudden gust, pin all up the shrouds the
whole crawling line in attitudes of crucifixion. The other watch plunged
- down on the main deck to haul up the sail. Men's heads bobbed up as the
+ down on the main deck to haul up the sail. Men’s heads bobbed up as the
water flung them irresistibly from side to side. Mr. Baker grunted
encouragingly in our midst, spluttering and blowing amongst the tangled
ropes like an energetic porpoise. Favoured by an ominous and untrustworthy
@@ -1893,21 +1857,21 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
<p>
At eight the men off duty, watching their chance, ran forward over the
flooded deck to get some rest. The other half of the crew remained aft for
- their turn of &ldquo;seeing her through her trouble,&rdquo; as they expressed it. The
- two mates urged the master to go below. Mr. Baker grunted in his ear:&mdash;&ldquo;Ough!
+ their turn of “seeing her through her trouble,” as they expressed it. The
+ two mates urged the master to go below. Mr. Baker grunted in his ear:—“Ough!
surely now... Ough!... confidence in us... nothing more to do... she must
- lay it out or go. Ough! Ough!&rdquo; Tall young Mr. Creighton smiled down at him cheerfully:&mdash;&ldquo;...She's
- as right as a trivet! Take a spell, sir.&rdquo; He looked at them stonily with
+ lay it out or go. Ough! Ough!” Tall young Mr. Creighton smiled down at him cheerfully:—“...She’s
+ as right as a trivet! Take a spell, sir.” He looked at them stonily with
bloodshot, sleepless eyes. The rims of his eyelids were scarlet, and he
moved his jaws unceasingly with a slow effort, as though he had been
- masticating a lump of india-rubber. He shook his head. He repeated:&mdash;&ldquo;Never
- mind me. I must see it out&mdash;I must see it out,&rdquo; but he consented to
+ masticating a lump of india-rubber. He shook his head. He repeated:—“Never
+ mind me. I must see it out—I must see it out,” but he consented to
sit down for a moment on the skylight, with his hard face turned
- unflinchingly to windward. The sea spat at it&mdash;and stoical, it
+ unflinchingly to windward. The sea spat at it—and stoical, it
streamed with water as though he had been weeping. On the weather side of
the poop the watch, hanging on to the mizen rigging and to one another,
- tried to exchange encouraging words. Singleton, at the wheel, yelled out:&mdash;&ldquo;Look
- out for yourselves!&rdquo; His voice reached them in a warning whisper. They
+ tried to exchange encouraging words. Singleton, at the wheel, yelled out:—“Look
+ out for yourselves!” His voice reached them in a warning whisper. They
were startled.
</p>
<p>
@@ -1923,13 +1887,13 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
sea-bird. Before we could draw breath a heavy gust struck her, another
roller took her unfairly under the weather bow, she gave a toppling lurch,
and filled her decks. Captain Allistoun leaped up, and fell; Archie rolled
- over him, screaming:&mdash;&ldquo;She will rise!&rdquo;
+ over him, screaming:—“She will rise!”
</p>
<p>
She gave another lurch to leeward; the lower deadeyes dipped heavily; the
- men's feet flew from under them, and they hung kicking above the slanting
+ men’s feet flew from under them, and they hung kicking above the slanting
poop. They could see the ship putting her side in the water, and shouted
- all together:&mdash;&ldquo;She's going!&rdquo; Forward the forecastle doors flew open,
+ all together:—“She’s going!” Forward the forecastle doors flew open,
and the watch below were seen leaping out one after another, throwing
their arms up; and, falling on hands and knees, scrambled aft on all fours
along the high side of the deck, sloping more than the roof of a house.
@@ -1945,11 +1909,11 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
struggled back to windward they looked in dismay. The straw beds swam
high, the blankets, spread out, undulated; while the chests, waterlogged
and with a heavy list, pitched heavily like dismasted hulks, before they
- sank; Archie's big coat passed with outspread arms, resembling a drowned
+ sank; Archie’s big coat passed with outspread arms, resembling a drowned
seaman floating with his head under water. Men were slipping down while
trying to dig their fingers into the planks; others, jammed in corners,
- rolled enormous eyes. They all yelled unceasingly:&mdash;&ldquo;The masts! Cut!
- Cut!...&rdquo; A black squall howled low over the ship, that lay on her side
+ rolled enormous eyes. They all yelled unceasingly:—“The masts! Cut!
+ Cut!...” A black squall howled low over the ship, that lay on her side
with the weather yard-arms pointing to the clouds; while the tall masts,
inclined nearly to the horizon, seemed to be of an immeasurable length.
The carpenter let go his hold, rolled against the skylight, and began to
@@ -1961,35 +1925,35 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
fluttering narrow ribbons that tied themselves into knots and became quiet
along the yard. Captain Allistoun struggled, managed to stand up with his
face near the deck, upon which men swung on the ends of ropes, like nest
- robbers upon a cliff. One of his feet was on somebody's chest; his face
- was purple; his lips moved. He yelled also; he yelled, bending down:&mdash;&ldquo;No!
- No!&rdquo; Mr. Baker, one leg over the binnacle-stand, roared out:&mdash;&ldquo;Did
- you say no? Not cut?&rdquo; He shook his head madly. &ldquo;No! No!&rdquo; Between his legs
+ robbers upon a cliff. One of his feet was on somebody’s chest; his face
+ was purple; his lips moved. He yelled also; he yelled, bending down:—“No!
+ No!” Mr. Baker, one leg over the binnacle-stand, roared out:—“Did
+ you say no? Not cut?” He shook his head madly. “No! No!” Between his legs
the crawling carpenter heard, collapsed at once, and lay full length in
- the angle of the skylight. Voices took up the shout&mdash;&ldquo;No! No!&rdquo; Then
+ the angle of the skylight. Voices took up the shout—“No! No!” Then
all became still. They waited for the ship to turn over altogether, and
shake them out into the sea; and upon the terrific noise of wind and sea
not a murmur of remonstrance came out from those men, who each would have
- given ever so many years of life to see &ldquo;them damned sticks go overboard!&rdquo;
+ given ever so many years of life to see “them damned sticks go overboard!”
They all believed it their only chance; but a little hard-faced man shook
- his grey head and shouted &ldquo;No!&rdquo; without giving them as much as a glance.
+ his grey head and shouted “No!” without giving them as much as a glance.
They were silent, and gasped. They gripped rails, they had wound
- ropes'-ends under their arms; they clutched ringbolts, they crawled in
+ ropes’-ends under their arms; they clutched ringbolts, they crawled in
heaps where there was foothold; they held on with both arms, hooked
themselves to anything to windward with elbows, with chins, almost with
their teeth: and some, unable to crawl away from where they had been
flung, felt the sea leap up, striking against their backs as they
struggled upwards. Singleton had stuck to the wheel. His hair flew out in
the wind; the gale seemed to take its life-long adversary by the beard and
- shake his old head. He wouldn't let go, and, with his knees forced between
+ shake his old head. He wouldn’t let go, and, with his knees forced between
the spokes, flew up and down like a man on a bough. As Death appeared
unready, they began to look about. Donkin, caught by one foot in a loop of
some rope, hung, head down, below us, and yelled, with his face to the
- deck:&mdash;&ldquo;Cut! Cut!&rdquo; Two men lowered themselves cautiously to him;
+ deck:—“Cut! Cut!” Two men lowered themselves cautiously to him;
others hauled on the rope. They caught him up, shoved him into a safer
place, held him. He shouted curses at the master, shook his fist at him
- with horrible blasphemies, called upon us in filthy words to &ldquo;Cut! Don't
- mind that murdering fool! Cut, some of you!&rdquo; One of his rescuers struck
+ with horrible blasphemies, called upon us in filthy words to “Cut! Don’t
+ mind that murdering fool! Cut, some of you!” One of his rescuers struck
him a back-handed blow over the mouth; his head banged on the deck, and he
became suddenly very quiet, with a white face, breathing hard, and with a
few drops of blood trickling from his cut lip. On the lee side another man
@@ -1998,13 +1962,13 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
like a bale, for he was paralysed with fright. He had rushed up out of the
pantry when he felt the ship go over, and had rolled down helplessly,
clutching a china mug. It was not broken. With difficulty we tore it away
- from him, and when he saw it in our hands he was amazed. &ldquo;Where did you
- get that thing?&rdquo; he kept on asking us in a trembling voice. His shirt was
+ from him, and when he saw it in our hands he was amazed. “Where did you
+ get that thing?” he kept on asking us in a trembling voice. His shirt was
blown to shreds; the ripped sleeves flapped like wings. Two men made him
fast, and, doubled over the rope that held him, he resembled a bundle of
- wet rags. Mr. Baker crawled along the line of men, asking:&mdash;&ldquo;Are you
- all there?&rdquo; and looking them over. Some blinked vacantly, others shook
- convulsively; Wamibo's head hung over his breast; and in painful
+ wet rags. Mr. Baker crawled along the line of men, asking:—“Are you
+ all there?” and looking them over. Some blinked vacantly, others shook
+ convulsively; Wamibo’s head hung over his breast; and in painful
attitudes, cut by lashings, exhausted with clutching, screwed up in
corners, they breathed heavily. Their lips twitched, and at every
sickening heave of the overturned ship they opened them wide as if to
@@ -2025,72 +1989,72 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
gleamed over the ship. After every burst of battering seas, vivid and
fleeting rainbows arched over the drifting hull in the flick of sprays.
The gale was ending in a clear blow, which gleamed and cut like a knife.
- Between two bearded shellbacks Charley, fastened with somebody's long
+ Between two bearded shellbacks Charley, fastened with somebody’s long
muffler to a deck ring-bolt, wept quietly, with rare tears wrung out by
bewilderment, cold, hunger, and general misery. One of his neighbours
- punched him in the ribs asking roughly:&mdash;&ldquo;What's the matter with your
- cheek? In fine weather there's no holding you, youngster.&rdquo; Turning about
+ punched him in the ribs asking roughly:—“What’s the matter with your
+ cheek? In fine weather there’s no holding you, youngster.” Turning about
with prudence he worked himself out of his coat and threw it over the boy.
- The other man closed up, muttering:&mdash;&ldquo;'Twill make a bloomin' man of
- you, sonny.&rdquo; They flung their arms over and pressed against him. Charley
+ The other man closed up, muttering:—“’Twill make a bloomin’ man of
+ you, sonny.” They flung their arms over and pressed against him. Charley
drew his feet up and his eyelids dropped. Sighs were heard, as men,
- perceiving that they were not to be &ldquo;drowned in a hurry,&rdquo; tried easier
+ perceiving that they were not to be “drowned in a hurry,” tried easier
positions. Mr. Creighton, who had hurt his leg, lay amongst us with
compressed lips. Some fellows belonging to his watch set about securing
him better. Without a word or a glance he lifted his arms one after
another to facilitate the operation, and not a muscle moved in his stern,
- young face. They asked him with solicitude:&mdash;&ldquo;Easier now, sir?&rdquo; He
- answered with a curt:&mdash;&ldquo;That'll do.&rdquo; He was a hard young officer, but
+ young face. They asked him with solicitude:—“Easier now, sir?” He
+ answered with a curt:—“That’ll do.” He was a hard young officer, but
many of his watch used to say they liked him well enough because he had
- &ldquo;such a gentlemanly way of damning us up and down the deck.&rdquo; Others unable
+ “such a gentlemanly way of damning us up and down the deck.” Others unable
to discern such fine shades of refinement, respected him for his
smartness. For the first time since the ship had gone on her beam ends
Captain Allistoun gave a short glance down at his men. He was almost
- upright&mdash;one foot against the side of the skylight, one knee on the
+ upright—one foot against the side of the skylight, one knee on the
deck; and with the end of the vang round his waist swung back and forth
with his gaze fixed ahead, watchful, like a man looking out for a sign.
Before his eyes the ship, with half her deck below water, rose and fell on
heavy seas that rushed from under her flashing in the cold sunshine. We
- began to think she was wonderfully buoyant&mdash;considering. Confident
- voices were heard shouting:&mdash;&ldquo;She'll do, boys!&rdquo; Belfast exclaimed
- with fervour:&mdash;&ldquo;I would giv' a month's pay for a draw at a pipe!&rdquo; One
+ began to think she was wonderfully buoyant—considering. Confident
+ voices were heard shouting:—“She’ll do, boys!” Belfast exclaimed
+ with fervour:—“I would giv’ a month’s pay for a draw at a pipe!” One
or two, passing dry tongues on their salt lips, muttered something about a
- &ldquo;drink of water.&rdquo; The cook, as if inspired, scrambled up with his breast
+ “drink of water.” The cook, as if inspired, scrambled up with his breast
against the poop water-cask and looked in. There was a little at the
bottom. He yelled, waving his arms, and two men began to crawl backwards
and forwards with the mug. We had a good mouthful all round. The master
shook his head impatiently, refusing. When it came to Charley one of his
- neighbours shouted:&mdash;&ldquo;That bloom-in' boy's asleep.&rdquo; He slept as
+ neighbours shouted:—“That bloom-in’ boy’s asleep.” He slept as
though he had been dosed with narcotics. They let him be. Singleton held
to the wheel with one hand while he drank, bending down to shelter his
lips from the wind. Wamibo had to be poked and yelled at before he saw the
- mug held before his eyes. Knowles said sagaciously:&mdash;&ldquo;It's better'n a
- tot o' rum.&rdquo; Mr. Baker grunted:&mdash;&ldquo;Thank ye.&rdquo; Mr. Creighton drank and
+ mug held before his eyes. Knowles said sagaciously:—“It’s better’n a
+ tot o’ rum.” Mr. Baker grunted:—“Thank ye.” Mr. Creighton drank and
nodded. Donkin gulped greedily, glaring over the rim. Belfast made us
- laugh when with grimacing mouth he shouted:&mdash;&ldquo;Pass it this way. We're
- all taytottlers here.&rdquo; The master, presented with the mug again by a
- crouching man, who screamed up at him:&mdash;&ldquo;We all had a drink,
- captain,&rdquo; groped for it without ceasing to look ahead, and handed it back
+ laugh when with grimacing mouth he shouted:—“Pass it this way. We’re
+ all taytottlers here.” The master, presented with the mug again by a
+ crouching man, who screamed up at him:—“We all had a drink,
+ captain,” groped for it without ceasing to look ahead, and handed it back
stiffly as though he could not spare half a glance away from the ship.
- Faces brightened. We shouted to the cook:&mdash;&ldquo;Well done, doctor!&rdquo; He
+ Faces brightened. We shouted to the cook:—“Well done, doctor!” He
sat to leeward, propped by the water-cask and yelled back abundantly, but
the seas were breaking in thunder just then, and we only caught snatches
- that sounded like: &ldquo;Providence&rdquo; and &ldquo;born again.&rdquo; He was at his old game
+ that sounded like: “Providence” and “born again.” He was at his old game
of preaching. We made friendly but derisive gestures at him, and from
below he lifted one arm, holding on with the other, moved his lips; he
- beamed up to us, straining his voice&mdash;earnest, and ducking his head
+ beamed up to us, straining his voice—earnest, and ducking his head
before the sprays.
</p>
<p>
- Suddenly some one cried:&mdash;&ldquo;Where's Jimmy?&rdquo; and we were appalled once
- more. On the end of the row the boatswain shouted hoarsely:&mdash;&ldquo;Has any
- one seed him come out?&rdquo; Voices exclaimed dismally:&mdash;&ldquo;Drowned&mdash;is
- he?... No! In his cabin!... Good Lord!... Caught like a bloomin' rat in a
- trap.... Couldn't open his door... Aye! She went over too quick and the
- water jammed it... Poor beggar!... No help for 'im.... Let's go and
- see...&rdquo; &ldquo;Damn him, who could go?&rdquo; screamed Donkin.&mdash;&ldquo;Nobody expects
- you to,&rdquo; growled the man next to him: &ldquo;you're only a thing.&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;Is
- there half a chance to get at 'im?&rdquo; inquired two or three men together.
+ Suddenly some one cried:—“Where’s Jimmy?” and we were appalled once
+ more. On the end of the row the boatswain shouted hoarsely:—“Has any
+ one seed him come out?” Voices exclaimed dismally:—“Drowned—is
+ he?... No! In his cabin!... Good Lord!... Caught like a bloomin’ rat in a
+ trap.... Couldn’t open his door... Aye! She went over too quick and the
+ water jammed it... Poor beggar!... No help for ’im.... Let’s go and
+ see...” “Damn him, who could go?” screamed Donkin.—“Nobody expects
+ you to,” growled the man next to him: “you’re only a thing.”—“Is
+ there half a chance to get at ’im?” inquired two or three men together.
Belfast untied himself with blind impetuosity, and all at once shot down
to leeward quicker than a flash of lightning. We shouted all together with
dismay; but with his legs overboard he held and yelled for a rope. In our
@@ -2099,12 +2063,12 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
infected with screaming merriment, all those haggard men went off
laughing, wild-eyed, like a lot of maniacs tied up on a wall. Mr. Baker
swung off the binnacle-stand and tendered him one leg. He scrambled up
- rather scared, and consigning us with abominable words to the &ldquo;divvle.&rdquo;
- &ldquo;You are.... Ough! You're a foul-mouthed beggar, Craik,&rdquo; grunted Mr.
- Baker. He answered, stuttering with indignation:&mdash;&ldquo;Look at 'em, sorr.
+ rather scared, and consigning us with abominable words to the “divvle.”
+ “You are.... Ough! You’re a foul-mouthed beggar, Craik,” grunted Mr.
+ Baker. He answered, stuttering with indignation:—“Look at ’em, sorr.
The bloomin dirty images! laughing at a chum going overboard. Call
- themselves men, too.&rdquo; But from the break of the poop the boatswain called
- out:&mdash;&ldquo;Come along,&rdquo; and Belfast crawled away in a hurry to join him.
+ themselves men, too.” But from the break of the poop the boatswain called
+ out:—“Come along,” and Belfast crawled away in a hurry to join him.
The five men, poised and gazing over the edge of the poop, looked for the
best way to get forward. They seemed to hesitate. The others, twisting in
their lashings, turning painfull, stared with open lips. Captain Allistoun
@@ -2119,12 +2083,12 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
half-submerged deck. Their toes scraped the planks. Lumps of green cold
water toppled over the bulwark and on their heads. They hung for a moment
on strained arms, with the breath knocked out of them, and with closed
- eyes&mdash;then, letting go with one hand, balanced with lolling heads,
+ eyes—then, letting go with one hand, balanced with lolling heads,
trying to grab some rope or stanchion further forward. The long-armed and
athletic boatswain swung quickly, gripping things with a fist hard as
- iron, and remembering suddenly snatches of the last letter from his &ldquo;old
- woman.&rdquo; Little Belfast scrambled in a rage spluttering &ldquo;cursed nigger.&rdquo;
- Wamibo's tongue hung out with excitement; and Archie, intrepid and calm,
+ iron, and remembering suddenly snatches of the last letter from his “old
+ woman.” Little Belfast scrambled in a rage spluttering “cursed nigger.”
+ Wamibo’s tongue hung out with excitement; and Archie, intrepid and calm,
watched his chance to move with intelligent coolness.
</p>
<p>
@@ -2133,7 +2097,7 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
Round them the backwash of waves seethed white and hissing. All the doors
had become trap-doors, of course. The first was the galley door. The
galley extended from side to side, and they could hear the sea splashing
- with hollow noises in there. The next door was that of the carpenter's
+ with hollow noises in there. The next door was that of the carpenter’s
shop. They lifted it, and looked down. The room seemed to have been
devastated by an earthquake. Everything in it had tumbled on the bulkhead
facing the door, and on the other side of that bulkhead there was Jimmy
@@ -2142,28 +2106,28 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
adze stuck up with a shining edge that gleamed dangerously down there like
a wicked smile. The men clung to one another, peering. A sickening, sly
lurch of the ship nearly sent them overboard in a body. Belfast howled
- &ldquo;Here goes!&rdquo; and leaped down. Archie followed cannily, catching at shelves
+ “Here goes!” and leaped down. Archie followed cannily, catching at shelves
that gave way with him, and eased himself in a great crash of ripped wood.
There was hardly room for three men to move. And in the sunshiny blue
- square of the door, the boatswain's face, bearded and dark, Wamibo's face,
- wild and pale, hung over&mdash;watching.
+ square of the door, the boatswain’s face, bearded and dark, Wamibo’s face,
+ wild and pale, hung over—watching.
</p>
<p>
- Together they shouted: &ldquo;Jimmy! Jim!&rdquo; From above the boatswain contributed
- a deep growl: &ldquo;You. Wait!&rdquo; In a pause, Belfast entreated: &ldquo;Jimmy, darlin',
- are ye aloive?&rdquo; The boatswain said: &ldquo;Again! All together, boys!&rdquo; All
+ Together they shouted: “Jimmy! Jim!” From above the boatswain contributed
+ a deep growl: “You. Wait!” In a pause, Belfast entreated: “Jimmy, darlin’,
+ are ye aloive?” The boatswain said: “Again! All together, boys!” All
yelled excitedly. Wamibo made noises resembling loud barks. Belfast
drummed on the side of the bulkhead with a piece of iron. All ceased
- suddenly. The sound of screaming and hammering went on thin and distinct&mdash;like
+ suddenly. The sound of screaming and hammering went on thin and distinct—like
a solo after a chorus. He was alive. He was screaming and knocking below
us with the hurry of a man prematurely shut up in a coffin. We went to
work. We attacked with desperation the abominable heap of things heavy, of
things sharp, of things clumsy to handle. The boatswain crawled away to
- find somewhere a flying end of a rope; and Wamibo, held back by shouts:&mdash;&ldquo;Don't
- jump!... Don't come in here, muddle-head!&rdquo;&mdash;remained glaring above us&mdash;all
+ find somewhere a flying end of a rope; and Wamibo, held back by shouts:—“Don’t
+ jump!... Don’t come in here, muddle-head!”—remained glaring above us—all
shining eyes, gleaming fangs, tumbled hair; resembling an amazed and
half-witted fiend gloating over the extraordinary agitation of the damned.
- The boatswain adjured us to &ldquo;bear a hand,&rdquo; and a rope descended. We made
+ The boatswain adjured us to “bear a hand,” and a rope descended. We made
things fast to it and they went up spinning, never to be seen by man
again. A rage to fling things overboard possessed us. We worked fiercely,
cutting our hands and speaking brutally to one another. Jimmy kept up a
@@ -2172,7 +2136,7 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
our hearts so terribly that we longed to abandon him, to get out of that
place deep as a well and swaying like a tree, to get out of his hearing,
back on the poop where we could wait passively for death in incomparable
- repose. We shouted to him to &ldquo;shut up, for God's sake.&rdquo; He redoubled his
+ repose. We shouted to him to “shut up, for God’s sake.” He redoubled his
cries. He must have fancied we could not hear him. Probably he heard his
own clamour but faintly. We could picture him crouching on the edge of the
upper berth, letting out with both fists at the wood, in the dark, and
@@ -2180,14 +2144,14 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
moments. A cloud driving across the sun would darken the doorway
menacingly. Every movement of the ship was pain. We scrambled about with
no room to breathe, and felt frightfully sick. The boatswain yelled down
- at us:&mdash;&ldquo;Bear a hand! Bear a hand! We two will be washed away from
- here directly if you ain't quick!&rdquo; Three times a sea leaped over the high
+ at us:—“Bear a hand! Bear a hand! We two will be washed away from
+ here directly if you ain’t quick!” Three times a sea leaped over the high
side and flung bucketfuls of water on our heads. Then Jimmy, startled by
- the shock, would stop his noise for a moment&mdash;waiting for the ship to
- sink, perhaps&mdash;and began again, distressingly loud, as if invigorated
+ the shock, would stop his noise for a moment—waiting for the ship to
+ sink, perhaps—and began again, distressingly loud, as if invigorated
by the gust of fear. At the bottom the nails lay in a layer several inches
thick. It was ghastly. Every nail in the world, not driven in firmly
- somewhere, seemed to have found its way into that carpenter's shop. There
+ somewhere, seemed to have found its way into that carpenter’s shop. There
they were, of all kinds, the remnants of stores from seven voyages.
Tin-tacks, copper tacks (sharp as needles); pump nails with big heads,
like tiny iron mushrooms; nails without any heads (horrible); French nails
@@ -2200,16 +2164,16 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
</p>
<p>
We got to the bulkhead at last. Those were stout planks. She was a ship,
- well finished in every detail&mdash;the <i>Narcissus</i> was. They were
- the stoutest planks ever put into a ship's bulkhead&mdash;we thought&mdash;and
+ well finished in every detail—the <i>Narcissus</i> was. They were
+ the stoutest planks ever put into a ship’s bulkhead—we thought—and
then we perceived that, in our hurry, we had sent all the tools overboard.
Absurd little Belfast wanted to break it down with his own weight, and
with both feet leaped straight up like a springbok, cursing the Clyde
shipwrights for not scamping their work. Incidentally he reviled all North
- Britain, the rest of the earth, the sea&mdash;and all his companions. He
+ Britain, the rest of the earth, the sea—and all his companions. He
swore, as he alighted heavily on his heels, that he would never, never any
- more associate with any fool that &ldquo;hadn't savee enough to know his knee
- from his elbow.&rdquo; He managed by his thumping to scare the last remnant of
+ more associate with any fool that “hadn’t savee enough to know his knee
+ from his elbow.” He managed by his thumping to scare the last remnant of
wits out of Jimmy. We could hear the object of our exasperated solicitude
darting to and fro under the planks. He had cracked his voice at last, and
could only squeak miserably. His back or else his head rubbed the planks,
@@ -2217,44 +2181,44 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
invisible blows. It was more heartrending even than his yells. Suddenly
Archie produced a crowbar. He had kept it back; also a small hatchet. We
howled with satisfaction. He struck a mighty blow and small chips flew at
- our eyes. The boatswain above shouted:&mdash;&ldquo;Look out! Look out there.
- Don't kill the man. Easy does it!&rdquo; Wamibo, maddened with excitement, hung
- head down and insanely urged us:&mdash;&ldquo;Hoo! Strook'im! Hoo! Hoo!&rdquo; We were
+ our eyes. The boatswain above shouted:—“Look out! Look out there.
+ Don’t kill the man. Easy does it!” Wamibo, maddened with excitement, hung
+ head down and insanely urged us:—“Hoo! Strook’im! Hoo! Hoo!” We were
afraid he would fall in and kill one of us and, hurriedly, we entreated
- the boatswain to &ldquo;shove the blamed Finn overboard.&rdquo; Then, all together, we
- yelled down at the planks:&mdash;&ldquo;Stand from under! Get forward,&rdquo; and
+ the boatswain to “shove the blamed Finn overboard.” Then, all together, we
+ yelled down at the planks:—“Stand from under! Get forward,” and
listened. We only heard the deep hum and moan of the wind above us, the
mingled roar and hiss of the seas. The ship, as if overcome with despair,
wallowed lifelessly, and our heads swam with that unnatural motion.
- Belfast clamoured:&mdash;&ldquo;For the love of God, Jimmy, where are ye?...
- Knock! Jimmy darlint!... Knock! You bloody black beast! Knock!&rdquo; He was as
+ Belfast clamoured:—“For the love of God, Jimmy, where are ye?...
+ Knock! Jimmy darlint!... Knock! You bloody black beast! Knock!” He was as
quiet as a dead man inside a grave; and, like men standing above a grave,
- we were on the verge of tears&mdash;but with vexation, the strain, the
+ we were on the verge of tears—but with vexation, the strain, the
fatigue; with the great longing to be done with it, to get away, and lie
down to rest somewhere where we could see our danger and breathe. Archie
- shouted:&mdash;&ldquo;Gi'e me room!&rdquo; We crouched behind him, guarding our heads,
+ shouted:—“Gi’e me room!” We crouched behind him, guarding our heads,
and he struck time after time in the joint of planks. They cracked.
Suddenly the crowbar went halfway in through a splintered oblong hole. It
- must have missed Jimmy's head by less than an inch. Archie withdrew it
+ must have missed Jimmy’s head by less than an inch. Archie withdrew it
quickly, and that infamous nigger rushed at the hole, put his lips to it,
- and whispered &ldquo;Help&rdquo; in an almost extinct voice; he pressed his head to
+ and whispered “Help” in an almost extinct voice; he pressed his head to
it, trying madly to get out through that opening one inch wide and three
inches long. In our disturbed state we were absolutely paralysed by his
incredible action. It seemed impossible to drive him away. Even Archie at
- last lost his composure. &ldquo;If ye don't clear oot I'll drive the crowbar
- thro' your head,&rdquo; he shouted in a determined voice. He meant what he said,
+ last lost his composure. “If ye don’t clear oot I’ll drive the crowbar
+ thro’ your head,” he shouted in a determined voice. He meant what he said,
and his earnestness seemed to make an impression on Jimmy. He disappeared
suddenly, and we set to prising and tearing at the planks with the
eagerness of men trying to get at a mortal enemy, and spurred by the
desire to tear him limb from limb. The wood split, cracked, gave way.
- Belfast plunged in head and shoulders and groped viciously. &ldquo;I've got 'im!
- Got 'im,&rdquo; he shouted. &ldquo;Oh! There!... He's gone; I've got 'im!... Pull at
- my legs!... Pull!&rdquo; Wamibo hooted unceasingly. The boatswain shouted
- directions:&mdash;&ldquo;Catch hold of his hair, Belfast; pull straight up, you
- two!... Pull fair!&rdquo; We pulled fair. We pulled Belfast out with a jerk, and
+ Belfast plunged in head and shoulders and groped viciously. “I’ve got ’im!
+ Got ’im,” he shouted. “Oh! There!... He’s gone; I’ve got ’im!... Pull at
+ my legs!... Pull!” Wamibo hooted unceasingly. The boatswain shouted
+ directions:—“Catch hold of his hair, Belfast; pull straight up, you
+ two!... Pull fair!” We pulled fair. We pulled Belfast out with a jerk, and
dropped him with disgust. In a sitting posture, purple-faced, he sobbed
- despairingly:&mdash;&ldquo;How can I hold on to 'is blooming short wool?&rdquo;
- Suddenly Jimmy's head and shoulders appeared. He stuck halfway, and with
+ despairingly:—“How can I hold on to ’is blooming short wool?”
+ Suddenly Jimmy’s head and shoulders appeared. He stuck halfway, and with
rolling eyes foamed at our feet. We flew at him with brutal impatience, we
tore the shirt off his back, we tugged at his ears, we panted over him;
and all at once he came away in our hands as though somebody had let go
@@ -2278,11 +2242,11 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
not afraid of Wamibo letting go (we remembered that the brute was stronger
than any three men in the ship), but we were afraid of the hook giving
way, and we also believed that the ship had made up her mind to turn over
- at last. But she didn't. A sea swept over us. The boatswain spluttered:&mdash;&ldquo;Up
- and away. There's a lull. Away aft with you, or we will all go to the
- devil here.&rdquo; We stood up surrounding Jimmy. We begged him to hold up, to
+ at last. But she didn’t. A sea swept over us. The boatswain spluttered:—“Up
+ and away. There’s a lull. Away aft with you, or we will all go to the
+ devil here.” We stood up surrounding Jimmy. We begged him to hold up, to
hold on, at least. He glared with his bulging eyes, mute as a fish, and
- with all the stiffening knocked out of him. He wouldn't stand; he wouldn't
+ with all the stiffening knocked out of him. He wouldn’t stand; he wouldn’t
even as much as clutch at our necks; he was only a cold black skin loosely
stuffed with soft cotton wool; his arms and legs swung jointless and
pliable; his head rolled about; the lower lip hung down, enormous and
@@ -2305,12 +2269,12 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
had to take his chance of that; and after a little while, becoming
apparently aware of it, he groaned slightly, and with a great effort
whispered a few words. We listened eagerly. He was reproaching us with our
- carelessness in letting him run such risks: &ldquo;Now, after I got myself out
- from there,&rdquo; he breathed out weakly. &ldquo;There&rdquo; was his cabin. And he got
+ carelessness in letting him run such risks: “Now, after I got myself out
+ from there,” he breathed out weakly. “There” was his cabin. And he got
himself out. We had nothing to do with it apparently!... No matter.... We
went on and let him take his chances, simply because we could not help it;
- for though at that time we hated him more than ever&mdash;more than
- anything under heaven&mdash;we did not want to lose him. We had so far
+ for though at that time we hated him more than ever—more than
+ anything under heaven—we did not want to lose him. We had so far
saved him; and it had become a personal matter between us and the sea. We
meant to stick to him. Had we (by an incredible hypothesis) undergone
similar toil and trouble for an empty cask, that cask would have become as
@@ -2318,19 +2282,19 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
had no reason to hate the cask. And we hated James Wait. We could not get
rid of the monstrous suspicion that this astounding black-man was shamming
sick, had been malingering heartlessly in the face of our toil, of our
- scorn, of our patience&mdash;and now was malingering in the face of our
- devotion&mdash;in the face of death. Our vague and imperfect morality rose
- with disgust at his unmanly lie. But he stuck to it manfully&mdash;amazingly.
- No! It couldn't be. He was at all extremity. His cantankerous temper was
+ scorn, of our patience—and now was malingering in the face of our
+ devotion—in the face of death. Our vague and imperfect morality rose
+ with disgust at his unmanly lie. But he stuck to it manfully—amazingly.
+ No! It couldn’t be. He was at all extremity. His cantankerous temper was
only the result of the provoking invincible-ness of that death he felt by
his side. Any man may be angry with such a masterful chum. But, then, what
- kind of men were we&mdash;with our thoughts! Indignation and doubt
+ kind of men were we—with our thoughts! Indignation and doubt
grappled within us in a scuffle that trampled upon the finest of our
feelings. And we hated him because of the suspicion; we detested him
- because of the doubt. We could not scorn him safely&mdash;neither could we
+ because of the doubt. We could not scorn him safely—neither could we
pity him without risk to our dignity. So we hated him and passed him
- carefully from hand to hand. We cried, &ldquo;Got him?&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;Yes. All right.
- Let go.&rdquo;
+ carefully from hand to hand. We cried, “Got him?”—“Yes. All right.
+ Let go.”
</p>
<p>
And he swung from one enemy to another, showing about as much life as an
@@ -2339,9 +2303,9 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
bellows. We reached the poop ladder at last, and it being a comparatively
safe place, we lay for a moment in an exhausted heap to rest a little. He
began to mutter. We were always incurably anxious to hear what he had to
- say. This time he mumbled peevishly, &ldquo;It took you some time to come! I
+ say. This time he mumbled peevishly, “It took you some time to come! I
began to think the whole smart lot of you had been washed overboard. What
- kept you back? Hey? Funk?&rdquo; We said nothing. With sighs we started again to
+ kept you back? Hey? Funk?” We said nothing. With sighs we started again to
drag him up. The secret and ardent desire of our hearts was the desire to
beat him viciously with our fists about the head; and we handled him as
tenderly as though he had been made of glass....
@@ -2349,8 +2313,8 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
<p>
The return on the poop was like the return of wanderers after many years
amongst people marked by the desolation of time. Eyes were turned slowly
- in their sockets, glancing at us. Faint murmurs were heard, &ldquo;Have you got
- 'im after all?&rdquo; The well-known faces looked strange and familiar; they
+ in their sockets, glancing at us. Faint murmurs were heard, “Have you got
+ ’im after all?” The well-known faces looked strange and familiar; they
seemed faded and grimy; they had a mingled expression of fatigue and
eagerness. They seemed to have become much thinner during our absence, as
if all these men had been starving for a long time in their abandoned
@@ -2359,7 +2323,7 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
eyes he was still holding the ship up, heeding no one, as if lost in the
unearthly effort of that endeavour. We fastened up James Wait in a safe
place. Mr. Baker scrambled along to lend a hand. Mr. Creighton, on his
- back, and very pale, muttered, &ldquo;Well done,&rdquo; and gave us, Jimmy and the
+ back, and very pale, muttered, “Well done,” and gave us, Jimmy and the
sky, a scornful glance, then closed his eyes slowly. Here and there a man
stirred a little, but most of them remained apathetic, in cramped
positions, muttering between shivers. The sun was setting. A sun enormous,
@@ -2387,48 +2351,48 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
loud hissing roar, and the sun, as if put out, disappeared. The chattering
voice faltered, went out together with the light. There were sighs. In the
sudden lull that follows the crash of a broken sea a man said wearily,
- &ldquo;Here's that blooming Dutchman gone off his chump.&rdquo; A seaman, lashed by
+ “Here’s that blooming Dutchman gone off his chump.” A seaman, lashed by
the middle, tapped the deck with his open hand with unceasing quick flaps.
In the gathering greyness of twilight a bulky form was seen rising aft,
and began marching on all fours with the movements of some big cautious
beast. It was Mr. Baker passing along the line of men. He grunted
encouragingly over every one, felt their fastenings. Some, with half-open
eyes, puffed like men oppressed by heat; others mechanically and in dreamy
- voices answered him, &ldquo;Aye! aye! sir!&rdquo; He went from one to another
- grunting, &ldquo;Ough!... See her through it yet;&rdquo; and unexpectedly, with loud
+ voices answered him, “Aye! aye! sir!” He went from one to another
+ grunting, “Ough!... See her through it yet;” and unexpectedly, with loud
angry outbursts, blew up Knowles for cutting off a long piece from the
- fall of the relieving tackle. &ldquo;Ough!&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;Ashamed of
- yourself&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;Relieving tackle&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;Don't
- you know better!&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;Ough!&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;Able
- seaman! Ough!&rdquo; The lame man was crushed. He muttered, &ldquo;Get som'think for a
- lashing for myself, sir.&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;Ough! Lashing&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;yourself.
- Are you a tinker or a sailor&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;What? Ough!&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;May
- want that tackle directly&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;Ough!&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;More
- use to the ship than your lame carcass. Ough!&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;Keep it!&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;Keep
- it, now you've done it.&rdquo;
+ fall of the relieving tackle. “Ough!———Ashamed of
+ yourself———Relieving tackle———Don’t
+ you know better!———Ough!———Able
+ seaman! Ough!” The lame man was crushed. He muttered, “Get som’think for a
+ lashing for myself, sir.”—“Ough! Lashing———yourself.
+ Are you a tinker or a sailor———What? Ough!———May
+ want that tackle directly———Ough!———More
+ use to the ship than your lame carcass. Ough!———Keep it!———Keep
+ it, now you’ve done it.”
</p>
<p>
- He crawled away slowly, muttering to himself about some men being &ldquo;worse
- than children.&rdquo; It had been a comforting row. Low exclamations were heard:
- &ldquo;Hallo... Hallo.&rdquo;... Those who had been painfully dozing asked with
- convulsive starts, &ldquo;What's up?... What is it?&rdquo; The answers came with
- unexpected cheerfulness: &ldquo;The mate is going bald-headed for lame Jack
- about something or other.&rdquo; &ldquo;No!&rdquo;.... &ldquo;What 'as he done?&rdquo; Some one even
+ He crawled away slowly, muttering to himself about some men being “worse
+ than children.” It had been a comforting row. Low exclamations were heard:
+ “Hallo... Hallo.”... Those who had been painfully dozing asked with
+ convulsive starts, “What’s up?... What is it?” The answers came with
+ unexpected cheerfulness: “The mate is going bald-headed for lame Jack
+ about something or other.” “No!”.... “What ’as he done?” Some one even
chuckled. It was like a whiff of hope, like a reminder of safe days.
Donkin, who had been stupefied with fear, revived suddenly and began to
- shout:&mdash;&ldquo;'Ear 'im; that's the way they tawlk to us. Vy donch 'ee 'it
- 'im&mdash;one ov yer? 'It 'im. 'It 'im! Comin' the mate over us. We are as
- good men as 'ee! We're all goin' to 'ell now. We 'ave been starved in this
- rotten ship, an' now we're goin' to be drowned for them black 'earted
- bullies! 'It 'im!&rdquo; He shrieked in the deepening gloom, he blubbered and
- sobbed, screaming:&mdash;&ldquo;'It 'im! 'It 'im!&rdquo; The rage and fear of his
+ shout:—“’Ear ’im; that’s the way they tawlk to us. Vy donch ’ee ’it
+ ’im—one ov yer? ’It ’im. ’It ’im! Comin’ the mate over us. We are as
+ good men as ’ee! We’re all goin’ to ’ell now. We ’ave been starved in this
+ rotten ship, an’ now we’re goin’ to be drowned for them black ’earted
+ bullies! ’It ’im!” He shrieked in the deepening gloom, he blubbered and
+ sobbed, screaming:—“’It ’im! ’It ’im!” The rage and fear of his
disregarded right to live tried the steadfastness of hearts more than the
menacing shadows of the night that advanced through the unceasing clamour
- of the gale. From aft Mr. Baker was heard:&mdash;&ldquo;Is one of you men going
- to stop him&mdash;must I come along?&rdquo; &ldquo;Shut up!&rdquo;... &ldquo;Keep quiet!&rdquo; cried
- various voices, exasperated, trembling with cold.&mdash;&ldquo;You'll get one
- across the mug from me directly,&rdquo; said an invisible seaman, in a weary
- tone, &ldquo;I won't let the mate have the trouble.&rdquo; He ceased and lay still
+ of the gale. From aft Mr. Baker was heard:—“Is one of you men going
+ to stop him—must I come along?” “Shut up!”... “Keep quiet!” cried
+ various voices, exasperated, trembling with cold.—“You’ll get one
+ across the mug from me directly,” said an invisible seaman, in a weary
+ tone, “I won’t let the mate have the trouble.” He ceased and lay still
with the silence of despair. On the black sky the stars, coming out,
gleamed over an inky sea that, speckled with foam, flashed back at them
the evanescent and pale light of a dazzling whiteness born from the black
@@ -2441,10 +2405,10 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
The icy south wind howled exultingly under the sombre splendour of the
sky. The cold shook the men with a resistless violence as though it had
tried to shake them to pieces. Short moans were swept unheard off the
- stiff lips. Some complained in mutters of &ldquo;not feeling themselves below
- the waist;&rdquo; while those who had closed their eyes, imagined they had a
+ stiff lips. Some complained in mutters of “not feeling themselves below
+ the waist;” while those who had closed their eyes, imagined they had a
block of ice on their chests. Others, alarmed at not feeling any pain in
- their fingers, beat the deck feebly with their hands&mdash;obstinate and
+ their fingers, beat the deck feebly with their hands—obstinate and
exhausted. Wamibo stared vacant and dreamy. The Scandinavians kept on a
meaningless mutter through chattering teeth. The spare Scotchmen, with
determined efforts, kept their lower jaws still. The West-country men lay
@@ -2455,7 +2419,7 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
both knew. They extolled her motherliness and her liberality; they tried
to talk about the joint of beef and the big fire in the downstairs
kitchen. The words dying faintly on their lips, ended in light sighs. A
- sudden voice cried into the cold night, &ldquo;O Lord!&rdquo; No one changed his
+ sudden voice cried into the cold night, “O Lord!” No one changed his
position or took any notice of the cry. One or two passed, with a repeated
and vague gesture, their hand over their faces, but most of them kept very
still. In the benumbed immobility of their bodies they were excessively
@@ -2479,84 +2443,84 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
and, at every upward swing of the ship, the wind rushed with a long-drawn
clamour amongst the spars. Mr. Baker watched very still. A man near him
began to make a blabbing noise with his lips, all at once and very loud,
- as though the cold had broken brutally through him. He went on:&mdash;&ldquo;Ba&mdash;ba&mdash;ba&mdash;brrr&mdash;brr&mdash;ba&mdash;ba.&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;Stop
- that!&rdquo; cried Mr. Baker, groping in the dark. &ldquo;Stop it!&rdquo; He went on shaking
- the leg he found under his hand.&mdash;&ldquo;What is it, sir?&rdquo; called out
- Belfast, in the tone of a man awakened suddenly; &ldquo;we are looking after
- that 'ere Jimmy.&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;Are you? Ough! Don't make that row then. Who's
- that near you?&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;It's me&mdash;the boatswain, sir,&rdquo; growled the
- West-country man; &ldquo;we are trying to keep life in that poor devil.&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;Aye,
- aye!&rdquo; said Mr. Baker. &ldquo;Do it quietly, can't you?&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;He wants us to
- hold him up above the rail,&rdquo; went on the boatswain, with irritation, &ldquo;says
- he can't breathe here under our jackets.&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;If we lift 'im, we drop
- 'im overboard,&rdquo; said another voice, &ldquo;we can't feel our hands with cold.&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;I
- don't care. I am choking!&rdquo; exclaimed James Wait in a clear tone.&mdash;&ldquo;Oh,
- no, my son,&rdquo; said the boatswain, desperately, &ldquo;you don't go till we all go
- on this fine night.&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;You will see yet many a worse,&rdquo; said Mr.
- Baker, cheerfully.&mdash;&ldquo;It's no child's play, sir!&rdquo; answered the
- boatswain. &ldquo;Some of us further aft, here, are in a pretty bad way.&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;If
+ as though the cold had broken brutally through him. He went on:—“Ba—ba—ba—brrr—brr—ba—ba.”—“Stop
+ that!” cried Mr. Baker, groping in the dark. “Stop it!” He went on shaking
+ the leg he found under his hand.—“What is it, sir?” called out
+ Belfast, in the tone of a man awakened suddenly; “we are looking after
+ that ’ere Jimmy.”—“Are you? Ough! Don’t make that row then. Who’s
+ that near you?”—“It’s me—the boatswain, sir,” growled the
+ West-country man; “we are trying to keep life in that poor devil.”—“Aye,
+ aye!” said Mr. Baker. “Do it quietly, can’t you?”—“He wants us to
+ hold him up above the rail,” went on the boatswain, with irritation, “says
+ he can’t breathe here under our jackets.”—“If we lift ’im, we drop
+ ’im overboard,” said another voice, “we can’t feel our hands with cold.”—“I
+ don’t care. I am choking!” exclaimed James Wait in a clear tone.—“Oh,
+ no, my son,” said the boatswain, desperately, “you don’t go till we all go
+ on this fine night.”—“You will see yet many a worse,” said Mr.
+ Baker, cheerfully.—“It’s no child’s play, sir!” answered the
+ boatswain. “Some of us further aft, here, are in a pretty bad way.”—“If
the blamed sticks had been cut out of her she would be running along on
- her bottom now like any decent ship, an' giv' us all a chance,&rdquo; said some
- one, with a sigh.&mdash;&ldquo;The old man wouldn't have it... much he cares for
- us,&rdquo; whispered another.&mdash;&ldquo;Care for you!&rdquo; exclaimed Mr. Baker,
- angrily. &ldquo;Why should he care for you? Are you a lot of women passengers to
- be taken care of? We are here to take care of the ship&mdash;and some of
- you ain't up to that. Ough!... What have you done so very smart to be
- taken care of? Ough!... Some of you can't stand a bit of a breeze without
- crying over it.&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;Come, sorr. We ain't so bad,&rdquo; protested Belfast,
- in a voice shaken by shivers; &ldquo;we ain't... brr...&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;Again,&rdquo; shouted
- the mate, grabbing at the shadowy form; &ldquo;again!... Why, you're in your
- shirt! What have you done?&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;I've put my oilskin and jacket over
- that half-dead nayggur&mdash;and he says he chokes,&rdquo; said Belfast,
- complainingly.&mdash;&ldquo;You wouldn't call me nigger if I wasn't half dead,
- you Irish beggar!&rdquo; boomed James Wait, vigorously.&mdash;&ldquo;You... brrr...
- You wouldn't be white if you were ever so well... I will fight you...
+ her bottom now like any decent ship, an’ giv’ us all a chance,” said some
+ one, with a sigh.—“The old man wouldn’t have it... much he cares for
+ us,” whispered another.—“Care for you!” exclaimed Mr. Baker,
+ angrily. “Why should he care for you? Are you a lot of women passengers to
+ be taken care of? We are here to take care of the ship—and some of
+ you ain’t up to that. Ough!... What have you done so very smart to be
+ taken care of? Ough!... Some of you can’t stand a bit of a breeze without
+ crying over it.”—“Come, sorr. We ain’t so bad,” protested Belfast,
+ in a voice shaken by shivers; “we ain’t... brr...”—“Again,” shouted
+ the mate, grabbing at the shadowy form; “again!... Why, you’re in your
+ shirt! What have you done?”—“I’ve put my oilskin and jacket over
+ that half-dead nayggur—and he says he chokes,” said Belfast,
+ complainingly.—“You wouldn’t call me nigger if I wasn’t half dead,
+ you Irish beggar!” boomed James Wait, vigorously.—“You... brrr...
+ You wouldn’t be white if you were ever so well... I will fight you...
brrrr... in fine weather... brrr ... with one hand tied behind my back...
- brrrrrr...&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;I don't want your rags&mdash;I want air,&rdquo; gasped out
+ brrrrrr...”—“I don’t want your rags—I want air,” gasped out
the other faintly, as if suddenly exhausted.
</p>
<p>
The sprays swept over whistling and pattering. Men disturbed in their
peaceful torpor by the pain of quarrelsome shouts, moaned, muttering
curses. Mr. Baker crawled off a little way to leeward where a water-cask
- loomed up big, with something white against it. &ldquo;Is it you, Podmore?&rdquo;
+ loomed up big, with something white against it. “Is it you, Podmore?”
asked Mr. Baker, He had to repeat the question twice before the cook
- turned, coughing feebly.&mdash;&ldquo;Yes, sir. I've been praying in my mind for
- a quick deliverance; for I am prepared for any call.... I&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&ldquo;&mdash;&ldquo;Look
- here, cook,&rdquo; interrupted Mr. Baker, &ldquo;the men are perishing with cold.&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;Cold!&rdquo;
- said the cook, mournfully; &ldquo;they will be warm enough before long.&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;What?&rdquo;
+ turned, coughing feebly.—“Yes, sir. I’ve been praying in my mind for
+ a quick deliverance; for I am prepared for any call.... I———“—“Look
+ here, cook,” interrupted Mr. Baker, “the men are perishing with cold.”—“Cold!”
+ said the cook, mournfully; “they will be warm enough before long.”—“What?”
asked Mr. Baker, looking along the deck into the faint sheen of frothing
- water.&mdash;&ldquo;They are a wicked lot,&rdquo; continued the cook solemnly, but in
- an unsteady voice, &ldquo;about as wicked as any ship's company in this sinful
- world! Now, I&rdquo;&mdash;he trembled so that he could hardly speak; his was an
+ water.—“They are a wicked lot,” continued the cook solemnly, but in
+ an unsteady voice, “about as wicked as any ship’s company in this sinful
+ world! Now, I”—he trembled so that he could hardly speak; his was an
exposed place, and in a cotton shirt, a thin pair of trousers, and with
his knees under his nose, he received, quaking, the flicks of stinging,
- salt drops; his voice sounded exhausted&mdash;&ldquo;now. I&mdash;any time...
- My eldest youngster, Mr. Baker,.. a clever boy... last Sunday on shore
- before this voyage he wouldn't go to church, sir. Says I, 'You go and
- clean yourself, or I'll know the reason why!' What does he do?... Pond,
- Mr. Baker&mdash;fell into the pond in his best rig, sir!... Accident?...
- 'Nothing will save you, fine scholar though you are!' says I....
- Accident!... I whopped him, sir, till I couldn't lift my arm....&rdquo; His
- voice faltered. &ldquo;I whopped 'im!&rdquo; he repeated, rattling his teeth; then,
+ salt drops; his voice sounded exhausted—“now. I—any time...
+ My eldest youngster, Mr. Baker... a clever boy... last Sunday on shore
+ before this voyage he wouldn’t go to church, sir. Says I, ‘You go and
+ clean yourself, or I’ll know the reason why!’ What does he do?... Pond,
+ Mr. Baker—fell into the pond in his best rig, sir!... Accident?...
+ ‘Nothing will save you, fine scholar though you are!’ says I....
+ Accident!... I whopped him, sir, till I couldn’t lift my arm....” His
+ voice faltered. “I whopped ’im!” he repeated, rattling his teeth; then,
after a while, let out a mournful sound that was half a groan, half a
- snore. Mr. Baker shook him by the shoulders. &ldquo;Hey! Cook! Hold up, Podmore!
- Tell me&mdash;is there any fresh water in the galley tank? The ship is
+ snore. Mr. Baker shook him by the shoulders. “Hey! Cook! Hold up, Podmore!
+ Tell me—is there any fresh water in the galley tank? The ship is
lying along less, I think; I would try to get forward. A little water
- would do them good. Hallo! Look out! Look out!&rdquo; The cook struggled.&mdash;&ldquo;Not
- you, sir&mdash;not you!&rdquo; He began to scramble to windward. &ldquo;Galley!... my
- business!&rdquo; he shouted.&mdash;&ldquo;Cook's going crazy now,&rdquo; said several
- voices. He yelled:&mdash;&ldquo;Crazy, am I? I am more ready to die than any of
- you, officers incloosive&mdash;there! As long as she swims I will cook! I
- will get you coffee.&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;Cook, ye are a gentleman!&rdquo; cried Belfast. But
+ would do them good. Hallo! Look out! Look out!” The cook struggled.—“Not
+ you, sir—not you!” He began to scramble to windward. “Galley!... my
+ business!” he shouted.—“Cook’s going crazy now,” said several
+ voices. He yelled:—“Crazy, am I? I am more ready to die than any of
+ you, officers incloosive—there! As long as she swims I will cook! I
+ will get you coffee.”—“Cook, ye are a gentleman!” cried Belfast. But
the cook was already going over the weather-ladder. He stopped for a
- moment to shout back on the poop:&mdash;&ldquo;As long as she swims I will
- cook!&rdquo; and disappeared as though he had gone overboard. The men who had
+ moment to shout back on the poop:—“As long as she swims I will
+ cook!” and disappeared as though he had gone overboard. The men who had
heard sent after him a cheer that sounded like a wail of sick children. An
- hour or more afterwards some one said distinctly: &ldquo;He's gone for good.&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;Very
- likely,&rdquo; assented the boatswain; &ldquo;even in fine weather he was as smart
+ hour or more afterwards some one said distinctly: “He’s gone for good.”—“Very
+ likely,” assented the boatswain; “even in fine weather he was as smart
about the deck as a milch-cow on her first voyage. We ought to go and
- see.&rdquo; Nobody moved. As the hours dragged slowly through the darkness Mr.
+ see.” Nobody moved. As the hours dragged slowly through the darkness Mr.
Baker crawled back and forth along the poop several times. Some men
fancied they had heard him exchange murmurs with the master, but at that
time the memories were incomparably more vivid than anything actual, and
@@ -2577,10 +2541,10 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
upon a freezing world. Some heard laughter, listened to songs; others,
near the end of the poop, could hear loud human shrieks, and opening their
eyes, were surprised to hear them still, though very faint, and far away.
- The boatswain said:&mdash;&ldquo;Why, it's the cook, hailing from forward, I
- think.&rdquo; He hardly believed his own words or recognised his own voice. It
+ The boatswain said:—“Why, it’s the cook, hailing from forward, I
+ think.” He hardly believed his own words or recognised his own voice. It
was a long time before the man next to him gave a sign of life. He punched
- hard his other neighbour and said:&mdash;&ldquo;The cook's shouting!&rdquo; Many did
+ hard his other neighbour and said:—“The cook’s shouting!” Many did
not understand, others did not care; the majority further aft did not
believe. But the boatswain and another man had the pluck to crawl away
forward to see. They seemed to have been gone for hours, and were very
@@ -2588,20 +2552,20 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
resignation became as if possessed with a desire to hurt. They belaboured
one another with fists. In the darkness they struck persistently anything
soft they could feel near, and, with a greater effort than for a shout,
- whispered excitedly:&mdash;&ldquo;They've got some hot coffee.... Boss'en got
- it....&rdquo; &ldquo;No!... Where?&rdquo;.... &ldquo;It's coming! Cook made it.&rdquo; James Wait
+ whispered excitedly:—“They’ve got some hot coffee.... Boss’en got
+ it....” “No!... Where?” ... “It’s coming! Cook made it.” James Wait
moaned. Donkin scrambled viciously, caring not where he kicked, and
anxious that the officers should have none of it. It came in a pot, and
they drank in turns. It was hot, and while it blistered the greedy
- palates, it seemed incredible. The men sighed out parting with the mug:&mdash;&ldquo;How
- 'as he done it?&rdquo; Some cried weakly:&mdash;&ldquo;Bully for you, doctor!&rdquo;
+ palates, it seemed incredible. The men sighed out parting with the mug:—“How
+ ’as he done it?” Some cried weakly:—“Bully for you, doctor!”
</p>
<p>
He had done it somehow. Afterwards Archie declared that the thing was
- &ldquo;meeraculous.&rdquo; For many days we wondered, and it was the one
+ “meeraculous.” For many days we wondered, and it was the one
ever-interesting subject of conversation to the end of the voyage. We
- asked the cook, in fine weather, how he felt when he saw his stove &ldquo;reared
- up on end.&rdquo; We inquired, in the north-east trade and on serene evenings,
+ asked the cook, in fine weather, how he felt when he saw his stove “reared
+ up on end.” We inquired, in the north-east trade and on serene evenings,
whether he had to stand on his head to put things right somewhat. We
suggested he had used his bread-board for a raft, and from there
comfortably had stoked his grate; and we did our best to conceal our
@@ -2609,20 +2573,20 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
about it, rebuked our levity, declared himself, with solemn animation, to
have been the object of a special mercy for the saving of our unholy
lives. Fundamentally he was right, no doubt; but he need not have been so
- offensively positive about it&mdash;he need not have hinted so often that
+ offensively positive about it—he need not have hinted so often that
it would have gone hard with us had he not been there, meritorious and
pure, to receive the inspiration and the strength for the work of grace.
Had we been saved by his recklessness or his agility, we could have at
length become reconciled to the fact; but to admit our obligation to
- anybody's virtue and holiness alone was as difficult for us as for any
+ anybody’s virtue and holiness alone was as difficult for us as for any
other handful of mankind. Like many benefactors of humanity, the cook took
himself too seriously, and reaped the reward of irreverence. We were not
- un-ungrateful, however. He remained heroic. His saying&mdash;<i>the</i>
- saying of his life&mdash;became proverbial in the mouth of men as are the
+ un-ungrateful, however. He remained heroic. His saying—<i>the</i>
+ saying of his life—became proverbial in the mouth of men as are the
sayings of conquerors or sages. Later, whenever one of us was puzzled by a
task and advised to relinquish it, he would express his determination to
- persevere and to succeed by the words:&mdash;&ldquo;As long as she swims I will
- cook!&rdquo;
+ persevere and to succeed by the words:—“As long as she swims I will
+ cook!”
</p>
<p>
The hot drink helped us through the bleak hours that precede the dawn. The
@@ -2632,11 +2596,11 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
night set in a border of dazzling gold. The beams of light skipped on the
crests of waves. The eyes of men turned to the eastward. The sunlight
flooded their weary faces. They were giving themselves up to fatigue as
- though they had done for ever with their work. On Singleton's black
+ though they had done for ever with their work. On Singleton’s black
oilskin coat the dried salt glistened like hoar frost. He hung on by the
wheel, with open and lifeless eyes. Captain Allistoun, unblinking, faced
the rising sun. His lips stirred, opened for the first time in twenty-four
- hours, and with a fresh firm voice he cried, &ldquo;Wear ship!&rdquo;
+ hours, and with a fresh firm voice he cried, “Wear ship!”
</p>
<p>
The commanding sharp tones made all these torpid men start like a sudden
@@ -2644,14 +2608,14 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
made some of them repeat the order in hardly audible murmurs. Captain
Allistoun glanced down at his crew, and several, with fumbling fingers and
hopeless movements, tried to cast themselves adrift. He repeated
- impatiently, &ldquo;Wear ship. Now then, Mr. Baker, get the men along. What's
- the matter with them?&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;Wear ship. Do you hear there?&mdash;Wear
- ship!&rdquo; thundered out the boatswain suddenly. His voice seemed to break
- through a deadly spell. Men began to stir and crawl.&mdash;&ldquo;I want the
- fore-topmast staysail run up smartly,&rdquo; said the master, very loudly; &ldquo;if
- you can't manage it standing up you must do it lying down&mdash;that's
- all. Bear a hand!&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;Come along! Let's give the old girl a chance,&rdquo;
- urged the boatswain.&mdash;&ldquo;Aye! aye! Wear ship!&rdquo; exclaimed quavering
+ impatiently, “Wear ship. Now then, Mr. Baker, get the men along. What’s
+ the matter with them?”—“Wear ship. Do you hear there?—Wear
+ ship!” thundered out the boatswain suddenly. His voice seemed to break
+ through a deadly spell. Men began to stir and crawl.—“I want the
+ fore-topmast staysail run up smartly,” said the master, very loudly; “if
+ you can’t manage it standing up you must do it lying down—that’s
+ all. Bear a hand!”—“Come along! Let’s give the old girl a chance,”
+ urged the boatswain.—“Aye! aye! Wear ship!” exclaimed quavering
voices. The forecastle men, with reluctant faces, prepared to go forward.
Mr. Baker pushed ahead, grunting, on all fours to show the way, and they
followed him over the break. The others lay still with a vile hope in
@@ -2665,43 +2629,39 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
fore-capstan. They were restless with strange exertions, waved their arms,
knelt, lay flat down, staggered up, seemed to strive their hardest to go
overboard. Suddenly a small white piece of canvas fluttered amongst them,
- grew larger, beating. Its narrow head rose in jerks&mdash;and at last it
- stood distended and triangular in the sunshine.&mdash;&ldquo;They have done it!&rdquo;
+ grew larger, beating. Its narrow head rose in jerks—and at last it
+ stood distended and triangular in the sunshine.—“They have done it!”
cried the voices aft. Captain Allistoun let go the rope he had round his
wrist and rolled to leeward headlong. He could be seen casting the lee
- main braces off the pins while the backwash of waves splashed over him.&mdash;&ldquo;Square
- the main yard!&rdquo; he shouted up to us&mdash;who stared at him in wonder. We
- hesitated to stir. &ldquo;The main brace, men. Haul! haul anyhow! Lay on your
- backs and haul!&rdquo; he screeched, half drowned down there. We did not believe
+ main braces off the pins while the backwash of waves splashed over him.—“Square
+ the main yard!” he shouted up to us—who stared at him in wonder. We
+ hesitated to stir. “The main brace, men. Haul! haul anyhow! Lay on your
+ backs and haul!” he screeched, half drowned down there. We did not believe
we could move the main yard, but the strongest and the less discouraged
- tried to execute the order. Others assisted half-heartedly. Singleton's
+ tried to execute the order. Others assisted half-heartedly. Singleton’s
eyes blazed suddenly as he took a fresh grip of the spokes. Captain
- Allistoun fought his way up to windward.&mdash;&ldquo;Haul, men! Try to move it!
- Haul, and help the ship.&rdquo; His hard face worked suffused and furious. &ldquo;Is
- she going off, Singleton?&rdquo; he cried.&mdash;&ldquo;Not a move yet, sir,&rdquo; croaked
- the old seaman in a horribly hoarse voice.&mdash;&ldquo;Watch the helm,
- Singleton,&rdquo; spluttered the master. &ldquo;Haul, men! Have you no more strength
- than rats? Haul, and earn your salt.&rdquo; Mr. Creighton, on his back, with a
+ Allistoun fought his way up to windward.—“Haul, men! Try to move it!
+ Haul, and help the ship.” His hard face worked suffused and furious. “Is
+ she going off, Singleton?” he cried.—“Not a move yet, sir,” croaked
+ the old seaman in a horribly hoarse voice.—“Watch the helm,
+ Singleton,” spluttered the master. “Haul, men! Have you no more strength
+ than rats? Haul, and earn your salt.” Mr. Creighton, on his back, with a
swollen leg and a face as white as a piece of paper, blinked his eyes; his
bluish lips twitched. In the wild scramble men grabbed at him, crawled
over his hurt leg, knelt on his chest. He kept perfectly still, setting
- his teeth without a moan, without a sigh. The master's ardour, the cries
+ his teeth without a moan, without a sigh. The master’s ardour, the cries
of that silent man inspired us. We hauled and hung in bunches on the rope.
We heard him say with violence to Donkin, who sprawled abjectly on his
- stomach,&mdash;&ldquo;I will brain you with this belaying pin if you don't catch
- hold of the brace,&rdquo; and that victim of men's injustice, cowardly and
- cheeky, whimpered:&mdash;&ldquo;Are you goin' to murder us now?&rdquo; while with
+ stomach,—“I will brain you with this belaying pin if you don’t catch
+ hold of the brace,” and that victim of men’s injustice, cowardly and
+ cheeky, whimpered:—“Are you goin’ to murder us now?” while with
sudden desperation he gripped the rope. Men sighed, shouted, hissed
meaningless words, groaned. The yards moved, came slowly square against
- the wind, that hummed loudly on the yard-arms.&mdash;&ldquo;Going off, sir,&rdquo;
- shouted Singleton, &ldquo;she's just started.&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;Catch a turn with that
- brace. Catch a turn!&rdquo; clamoured the master. Mr. Creighton, nearly
+ the wind, that hummed loudly on the yard-arms.—“Going off, sir,”
+ shouted Singleton, “she’s just started.”—“Catch a turn with that
+ brace. Catch a turn!” clamoured the master. Mr. Creighton, nearly
suffocated and unable to move, made a mighty effort, and with his left
- hand managed to nip the rope.
- </p>
- <p>
- &mdash;&ldquo;All fast!&rdquo; cried some one. He closed his eyes as if going off into
- a swoon, while huddled together about the brace we watched with scared
+ hand managed to nip the rope.—“All fast!” cried some one. He closed his eyes as if going off into a swoon, while huddled together about the brace we watched with scared
looks what the ship would do now.
</p>
<p>
@@ -2720,12 +2680,12 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
feeble and discordant howl. A great sea came running up aft and hung for a
moment over us with a curling top; then crashed down under the counter and
spread out on both sides into a great sheet of bursting froth. Above its
- fierce hiss we heard Singleton's croak:&mdash;&ldquo;She is steering!&rdquo; He had
+ fierce hiss we heard Singleton’s croak:—“She is steering!” He had
both his feet now planted firmly on the grating, and the wheel spun fast
- as he eased the helm.&mdash;&ldquo;Bring the wind on the port quarter and steady
- her!&rdquo; called out the master, staggering to his feet, the first man up from
- amongst our prostrate heap. One or two screamed with excitement:&mdash;&ldquo;She
- rises!&rdquo; Far away forward, Mr. Baker and three others were seen erect and
+ as he eased the helm.—“Bring the wind on the port quarter and steady
+ her!” called out the master, staggering to his feet, the first man up from
+ amongst our prostrate heap. One or two screamed with excitement:—“She
+ rises!” Far away forward, Mr. Baker and three others were seen erect and
black on the clear sky, lifting their arms, and with open mouths as though
they had been shouting all together. The ship trembled, trying to lift her
side, lurched back, seemed to give up with a nerveless dip, and suddenly
@@ -2737,7 +2697,7 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
a dam. The sea on deck, and the seas on every side of her, mingled
together in a deafening roar. She rolled violently. We got up and were
helplessly run or flung about from side to side. Men, rolling over and
- over, yelled,&mdash;&ldquo;The house will go!&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;She clears herself!&rdquo;
+ over, yelled,—“The house will go!”—“She clears herself!”
Lifted by a towering sea she ran along with it for a moment, spouting
thick streams of water through every opening of her wounded sides. The lee
braces having been carried away or washed off the pins, all the ponderous
@@ -2756,7 +2716,7 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
</p>
<p>
Captain Allistoun, hard and slim, gesticulated madly from the poop at Mr.
- Baker: &ldquo;Steady these fore-yards! Steady them the best you can!&rdquo; On the
+ Baker: “Steady these fore-yards! Steady them the best you can!” On the
main deck, men excited by his cries, splashed, dashing aimlessly, here and
there with the foam swirling up to their waists. Apart, far aft, and alone
by the helm, old Singleton had deliberately tucked his white beard under
@@ -2768,11 +2728,11 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
urge again the rapid stir of circling spokes. He steered with care.
</p>
<p>
- <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004">
+ <a id="link2HCH0004">
<!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
</p>
<div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ <br ><br ><br ><br >
</div>
<h2>
CHAPTER FOUR
@@ -2793,34 +2753,34 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
The master and Mr. Baker coming face to face stared for a moment, with the
intense and amazed looks of men meeting unexpectedly after years of
trouble. Their voices were gone, and they whispered desperately at one
- another.&mdash;&ldquo;Any one missing?&rdquo; asked Captain Allistoun.&mdash;&ldquo;No. All
- there.&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;Anybody hurt?&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;Only the second mate.&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;I will
- look after him directly. We're lucky.&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;Very,&rdquo; articulated Mr.
+ another.—“Any one missing?” asked Captain Allistoun.—“No. All
+ there.”—“Anybody hurt?”—“Only the second mate.”—“I will
+ look after him directly. We’re lucky.”—“Very,” articulated Mr.
Baker, faintly. He gripped the rail and rolled bloodshot eyes. The little
grey man made an effort to raise his voice above a dull mutter, and fixed
- his chief mate with a cold gaze, piercing like a dart.&mdash;&ldquo;Get sail on
- the ship,&rdquo; he said, speaking authoritatively and with an inflexible snap
- of his thin lips. &ldquo;Get sail on her as soon as you can. This is a fair
- wind. At once, sir&mdash;Don't give the men time to feel themselves. They
+ his chief mate with a cold gaze, piercing like a dart.—“Get sail on
+ the ship,” he said, speaking authoritatively and with an inflexible snap
+ of his thin lips. “Get sail on her as soon as you can. This is a fair
+ wind. At once, sir—Don’t give the men time to feel themselves. They
will get done up and stiff, and we will never... We must get her along
- now&rdquo;... He reeled to a long heavy roll; the rail dipped into the glancing,
+ now”... He reeled to a long heavy roll; the rail dipped into the glancing,
hissing water. He caught a shroud, swung helplessly against the mate...
- &ldquo;now we have a fair wind at last&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;Make&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;sail.&rdquo;
+ “now we have a fair wind at last———Make———sail.”
His head rolled from shoulder to shoulder. His eyelids began to beat
- rapidly. &ldquo;And the pumps&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;pumps, Mr. Baker.&rdquo; He peered
+ rapidly. “And the pumps———pumps, Mr. Baker.” He peered
as though the face within a foot of his eyes had been half a mile off.
- &ldquo;Keep the men on the move to&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;to get her along,&rdquo; he
+ “Keep the men on the move to———to get her along,” he
mumbled in a drowsy tone, like a man going off into a doze. He pulled
- himself together suddenly. &ldquo;Mustn't stand. Won't do,&rdquo; he said with a
+ himself together suddenly. “Mustn’t stand. Won’t do,” he said with a
painful attempt at a smile. He let go his hold, and, propelled by the dip
of the ship, ran aft unwillingly, with small steps, till he brought up
against the binnacle stand. Hanging on there he looked up in an aimless
manner at Singleton, who, unheeding him, watched anxiously the end of the
- jib-boom&mdash;&ldquo;Steering gear works all right?&rdquo; he asked. There was a
- noise in the old seaman's throat, as though the words had been rattling
- together before they could come out.&mdash;&ldquo;Steers... like a little boat,&rdquo;
+ jib-boom—“Steering gear works all right?” he asked. There was a
+ noise in the old seaman’s throat, as though the words had been rattling
+ together before they could come out.—“Steers... like a little boat,”
he said, at last, with hoarse tenderness, without giving the master as
- much as half a glance&mdash;then, watchfully, spun the wheel down,
+ much as half a glance—then, watchfully, spun the wheel down,
steadied, flung it back again. Captain Allistoun tore himself away from
the delight of leaning against the binnacle, and began to walk the poop,
swaying and reeling to preserve his balance....
@@ -2831,10 +2791,10 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
back and forth with a regular impetuosity two limp clusters of men
clinging to the handles. They abandoned themselves, swaying from the hip
with twitching faces and stony eyes. The carpenter, sounding from time to
- time, exclaimed mechanically: &ldquo;Shake her up! Keep her going!&rdquo; Mr. Baker
+ time, exclaimed mechanically: “Shake her up! Keep her going!” Mr. Baker
could not speak, but found his voice to shout; and under the goad of his
objurgations, men looked to the lashings, dragged out new sails; and
- thinking themselves unable to move, carried heavy blocks aloft&mdash;overhauled
+ thinking themselves unable to move, carried heavy blocks aloft—overhauled
the gear. They went up the rigging with faltering and desperate efforts.
Their heads swam as they shifted their hold, stepped blindly on the yards
like men in the dark; or trusted themselves to the first rope at hand with
@@ -2852,7 +2812,7 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
violent shocks of beating canvas. They glared savagely at one another,
made frantic signs with one hand while they held their life in the other,
looked down on the narrow strip of flooded deck, shouted along to leeward:
- &ldquo;Light-to!&rdquo;... &ldquo;Haul out!&rdquo;... &ldquo;Make fast!&rdquo; Their lips moved, their eyes
+ “Light-to!”... “Haul out!”... “Make fast!” Their lips moved, their eyes
started, furious and eager with the desire to be understood, but the wind
tossed their words unheard upon the disturbed sea. In an unendurable and
unending strain they worked like men driven by a merciless dream to toil
@@ -2860,10 +2820,10 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
eyeballs smarted as if in the smoke of a conflagration; their heads were
ready to burst with every shout. Hard fingers seemed to grip their
throats. At every roll they thought: Now I must let go. It will shake us
- all off&mdash;and thrown about aloft they cried wildly: &ldquo;Look out there&mdash;catch
- the end.&rdquo;... &ldquo;Reeve clear&rdquo;... &ldquo;Turn this block....&rdquo; They nodded
- desperately; shook infuriated faces, &ldquo;No! No! From down up.&rdquo; They seemed
- to hate one another with a deadly hate, The longing to be done with it all
+ all off—and thrown about aloft they cried wildly: “Look out there—catch
+ the end.”... “Reeve clear”... “Turn this block....” They nodded
+ desperately; shook infuriated faces, “No! No! From down up.” They seemed
+ to hate one another with a deadly hate. The longing to be done with it all
gnawed their breasts, and the wish to do things well was a burning pain.
They cursed their fate, contemned their life, and wasted their breath in
deadly imprecations upon one another. The sailmaker, with his bald head
@@ -2874,24 +2834,24 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
youngsters in a moorland village. Mr. Baker, feeling very weak, tottered
here and there, grunting and inflexible, like a man of iron. He waylaid
those who, coming from aloft, stood gasping for breath. He ordered,
- encouraged, scolded. &ldquo;Now then&mdash;to the main topsail now! Tally on to
- that gantline. Don't stand about there!&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;Is there no rest for us?&rdquo;
- muttered voices. He spun round fiercely, with a sinking heart.&mdash;&ldquo;No!
- No rest till the work is done. Work till you drop. That's what you're here
- for.&rdquo; A bowed seaman at his elbow gave a short laugh.&mdash;&ldquo;Do or die,&rdquo;
+ encouraged, scolded. “Now then—to the main topsail now! Tally on to
+ that gantline. Don’t stand about there!”—“Is there no rest for us?”
+ muttered voices. He spun round fiercely, with a sinking heart.—“No!
+ No rest till the work is done. Work till you drop. That’s what you’re here
+ for.” A bowed seaman at his elbow gave a short laugh.—“Do or die,”
he croaked bitterly, then spat into his broad palms, swung up his long
arms, and grasping the rope high above his head sent out a mournful,
wailing cry for a pull all together. A sea boarded the quarter-deck and
sent the whole lot sprawling to leeward. Caps, handspikes floated.
Clenched hands, kicking legs, with here and there a spluttering face,
stuck out of the white hiss of foaming water. Mr. Baker, knocked down with
- the rest, screamed&mdash;&ldquo;Don't let go that rope! Hold on to it! Hold!&rdquo;
+ the rest, screamed—“Don’t let go that rope! Hold on to it! Hold!”
And sorely bruised by the brutal fling, they held on to it, as though it
had been the fortune of their life. The ship ran, rolling heavily, and the
topping crests glanced past port and starboard flashing their white heads.
Pumps were freed. Braces were rove. The three topsails and foresail were
set. She spurted faster over the water, outpacing the swift rush of waves.
- The menacing thunder of distanced seas rose behind her&mdash;filled the
+ The menacing thunder of distanced seas rose behind her—filled the
air with the tremendous vibrations of its voice. And devastated, battered,
and wounded she drove foaming to the northward, as though inspired by the
courage of a high endeavour....
@@ -2913,19 +2873,19 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
poured dirty water out of a boot, and was concerned to find the owner.
Those who, overwhelmed by their losses, sat on the forepeak hatch,
remained elbows on knees, and, with a fist against each cheek, disdained
- to look up. He pushed it under their noses. &ldquo;Here's a good boot. Yours?&rdquo;
- They snarled, &ldquo;No&mdash;get out.&rdquo; One snapped at him, &ldquo;Take it to hell out
- of this.&rdquo; He seemed surprised. &ldquo;Why? It's a good boot,&rdquo; but remembering
+ to look up. He pushed it under their noses. “Here’s a good boot. Yours?”
+ They snarled, “No—get out.” One snapped at him, “Take it to hell out
+ of this.” He seemed surprised. “Why? It’s a good boot,” but remembering
suddenly that he had lost every stitch of his clothing, he dropped his
find and began to swear. In the dim light cursing voices clashed. A man
came in and, dropping his arms, stood still, repeating from the doorstep,
- &ldquo;Here's a bloomin' old go! Here's a bloomin' old go!&rdquo; A few rooted
+ “Here’s a bloomin’ old go! Here’s a bloomin’ old go!” A few rooted
anxiously in flooded chests for tobacco. They breathed hard, clamoured
- with heads down. &ldquo;Look at that Jack!&rdquo;... &ldquo;Here! Sam! Here's my shore-going
- rig spoilt for ever.&rdquo; One blasphemed tearfully, holding up a pair of
+ with heads down. “Look at that Jack!”... “Here! Sam! Here’s my shore-going
+ rig spoilt for ever.” One blasphemed tearfully, holding up a pair of
dripping trousers. No one looked at him. The cat came out from somewhere.
He had an ovation. They snatched him from hand to hand, caressed him in a
- murmur of pet names. They wondered where he had &ldquo;weathered it out;&rdquo;
+ murmur of pet names. They wondered where he had “weathered it out;”
disputed about it. A squabbling argument began. Two men brought in a
bucket of fresh water, and all crowded round it; but Tom, lean and mewing,
came up with every hair astir and had the first drink. A couple of hands
@@ -2933,86 +2893,86 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
</p>
<p>
Then in the yellow light and in the intervals of mopping the deck they
- crunched hard bread, arranging to &ldquo;worry through somehow.&rdquo; Men chummed as
+ crunched hard bread, arranging to “worry through somehow.” Men chummed as
to beds. Turns were settled for wearing boots and having the use of
- oilskin coats. They called one another &ldquo;old man&rdquo; and &ldquo;sonny&rdquo; in cheery
+ oilskin coats. They called one another “old man” and “sonny” in cheery
voices. Friendly slaps resounded. Jokes were shouted. One or two stretched
on the wet deck, slept with heads pillowed on their bent arms, and
several, sitting on the hatch, smoked. Their weary faces appeared through
a thin blue haze, pacified and with sparkling eyes. The boatswain put his
- head through the door. &ldquo;Relieve the wheel, one of you&rdquo;&mdash;he shouted
- inside&mdash;&ldquo;it's six. Blamme if that old Singleton hasn't been there
- more'n thirty hours. You are a fine lot.&rdquo; He slammed the door again.
- &ldquo;Mate's watch on deck,&rdquo; said some one. &ldquo;Hey, Donkin, it's your relief!&rdquo;
+ head through the door. “Relieve the wheel, one of you”—he shouted
+ inside—“it’s six. Blamme if that old Singleton hasn’t been there
+ more’n thirty hours. You are a fine lot.” He slammed the door again.
+ “Mate’s watch on deck,” said some one. “Hey, Donkin, it’s your relief!”
shouted three or four together. He had crawled into an empty bunk and on
- wet planks lay still. &ldquo;Donkin, your wheel.&rdquo; He made no sound. &ldquo;Donkin's
- dead,&rdquo; guffawed some one, &ldquo;Sell 'is bloomin' clothes,&rdquo; shouted another.
- &ldquo;Donkin, if ye don't go to the bloomin' wheel they will sell your clothes&mdash;d'ye
- hear?&rdquo; jeered a third. He groaned from his dark hole. He complained about
- pains in all his bones, he whimpered pitifully. &ldquo;He won't go,&rdquo; exclaimed a
- contemptuous voice, &ldquo;your turn, Davis.&rdquo; The young seaman rose painfully,
+ wet planks lay still. “Donkin, your wheel.” He made no sound. “Donkin’s
+ dead,” guffawed some one, “Sell ’is bloomin’ clothes,” shouted another.
+ “Donkin, if ye don’t go to the bloomin’ wheel they will sell your clothes—d’ye
+ hear?” jeered a third. He groaned from his dark hole. He complained about
+ pains in all his bones, he whimpered pitifully. “He won’t go,” exclaimed a
+ contemptuous voice, “your turn, Davis.” The young seaman rose painfully,
squaring his shoulders. Donkin stuck his head out, and it appeared in the
- yellow light, fragile and ghastly. &ldquo;I will giv' yer a pound of tobaccer,&rdquo;
- he whined in a conciliating voice, &ldquo;so soon as I draw it from aft. I will&mdash;s'elp
- me...&rdquo; Davis swung his arm backhanded and the head vanished. &ldquo;I'll go,&rdquo; he
- said, &ldquo;but you will pay for it.&rdquo; He walked unsteady but resolute to the
- door. &ldquo;So I will,&rdquo; yelped Donkin, popping out behind him. &ldquo;So I will&mdash;s'elp
- me... a pound... three bob they chawrge.&rdquo; Davis flung the door open. &ldquo;You
- will pay my price... in fine weather,&rdquo; he shouted over his shoulder. One
- of the men unbuttoned his wet coat rapidly, threw it at his head. &ldquo;Here,
- Taffy&mdash;take that, you thief!&rdquo; &ldquo;Thank you!&rdquo; he cried from the darkness
+ yellow light, fragile and ghastly. “I will giv’ yer a pound of tobaccer,”
+ he whined in a conciliating voice, “so soon as I draw it from aft. I will—s’elp
+ me...” Davis swung his arm backhanded and the head vanished. “I’ll go,” he
+ said, “but you will pay for it.” He walked unsteady but resolute to the
+ door. “So I will,” yelped Donkin, popping out behind him. “So I will—s’elp
+ me... a pound... three bob they chawrge.” Davis flung the door open. “You
+ will pay my price... in fine weather,” he shouted over his shoulder. One
+ of the men unbuttoned his wet coat rapidly, threw it at his head. “Here,
+ Taffy—take that, you thief!” “Thank you!” he cried from the darkness
above the swish of rolling water. He could be heard splashing; a sea came
- on board with a thump. &ldquo;He's got his bath already,&rdquo; remarked a grim
- shellback. &ldquo;Aye, aye!&rdquo; grunted others. Then, after a long silence, Wamibo
- made strange noises. &ldquo;Hallo, what's up with you?&rdquo; said some one grumpily.
- &ldquo;He says he would have gone for Davy,&rdquo; explained Archie, who was the
- Finn's interpreter generally. &ldquo;I believe him!&rdquo; cried voices.... &ldquo;Never
- mind, Dutchy... You'll do, muddle-head.... Your turn will come soon
- enough... You don't know when ye're well off.&rdquo; They ceased, and all
+ on board with a thump. “He’s got his bath already,” remarked a grim
+ shellback. “Aye, aye!” grunted others. Then, after a long silence, Wamibo
+ made strange noises. “Hallo, what’s up with you?” said some one grumpily.
+ “He says he would have gone for Davy,” explained Archie, who was the
+ Finn’s interpreter generally. “I believe him!” cried voices.... “Never
+ mind, Dutchy... You’ll do, muddle-head.... Your turn will come soon
+ enough... You don’t know when ye’re well off.” They ceased, and all
together turned their faces to the door. Singleton stepped in, advanced
two paces, and stood swaying slightly. The sea hissed, flowed roaring past
the bows, and the forecastle trembled, full of deep murmurs; the lamp
flared, swinging like a pendulum. He looked with a dreamy and puzzled
stare, as though he could not distinguish the still men from their
- restless shadows. There were awestruck exclamations:&mdash;&ldquo;Hallo,
- hallo&rdquo;... &ldquo;How does it look outside now, Singleton?&rdquo; Those who sat on the
+ restless shadows. There were awestruck exclamations:—“Hallo,
+ hallo”... “How does it look outside now, Singleton?” Those who sat on the
hatch lifted their eyes in silence, and the next oldest seaman in the ship
(those two understood one another, though they hardly exchanged three
words in a day) gazed up at his friend attentively for a moment, then
taking a short clay pipe out of his mouth, offered it without a word.
Singleton put out his arm towards it, missed, staggered, and suddenly fell
forward, crashing down, stiff and headlong like an uprooted tree. There
- was a swift rush. Men pushed, crying:&mdash;&ldquo;He's done!&rdquo;... &ldquo;Turn him
- over!&rdquo;... &ldquo;Stand clear there!&rdquo; Under a crowd of startled faces bending
+ was a swift rush. Men pushed, crying:—“He’s done!”... “Turn him
+ over!”... “Stand clear there!” Under a crowd of startled faces bending
over him he lay on his back, staring upwards in a continuous and
intolerable manner. In the breathless silence of a general consternation,
- he said in a grating murmur:&mdash;&ldquo;I am all right,&rdquo; and clutched with his
- hands. They helped him up. He mumbled despondently:&mdash;&ldquo;I am getting
- old... old.&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;Not you,&rdquo; cried Belfast, with ready tact. Supported on
- all sides, he hung his head.&mdash;&ldquo;Are you better?&rdquo; they asked. He glared
+ he said in a grating murmur:—“I am all right,” and clutched with his
+ hands. They helped him up. He mumbled despondently:—“I am getting
+ old... old.”—“Not you,” cried Belfast, with ready tact. Supported on
+ all sides, he hung his head.—“Are you better?” they asked. He glared
at them from under his eyebrows with large black eyes, spreading over his
- chest the bushy whiteness of a beard long and thick.&mdash;&ldquo;Old! old!&rdquo; he
+ chest the bushy whiteness of a beard long and thick.—“Old! old!” he
repeated sternly. Helped along, he reached his bunk. There was in it a
slimy soft heap of something that smelt, as does at dead low water a muddy
foreshore. It was his soaked straw bed. With a convulsive effort he
pitched himself on it, and in the darkness of the narrow place could be
heard growling angrily, like an irritated and savage animal uneasy in its
- den:&mdash;&ldquo;Bit of breeze... small thing... can't stand up... old!&rdquo; He
- slept at last, high-booted, sou'wester on head, and his oilskin clothes
+ den:—“Bit of breeze... small thing... can’t stand up... old!” He
+ slept at last, high-booted, sou’wester on head, and his oilskin clothes
rustled, when with a deep sighing groan he turned over. Men conversed
- about him in quiet, concerned whispers. &ldquo;This will break'im up&rdquo;... &ldquo;Strong
- as a horse&rdquo;... &ldquo;Aye. But he ain't what he used to be.&rdquo; In sad murmurs they
+ about him in quiet, concerned whispers. “This will break’im up”... “Strong
+ as a horse”... “Aye. But he ain’t what he used to be.” In sad murmurs they
gave him up. Yet at midnight he turned out to duty as if nothing had been
- the matter, and answered to his name with a mournful &ldquo;Here!&rdquo; He brooded
+ the matter, and answered to his name with a mournful “Here!” He brooded
alone more than ever, in an impenetrable silence and with a saddened face.
- For many years he had heard himself called &ldquo;Old Singleton,&rdquo; and had
+ For many years he had heard himself called “Old Singleton,” and had
serenely accepted the qualification, taking it as a tribute of respect due
to a man who through half a century had measured his strength against the
favours and the rages of the sea. He had never given a thought to his
mortal self. He lived unscathed, as though he had been indestructible,
surrendering to all the temptations, weathering many gales. He had panted
in sunshine, shivered in the cold; suffered hunger, thirst, debauch;
- passed through many trials&mdash;known all the furies. Old! It seemed to
+ passed through many trials—known all the furies. Old! It seemed to
him he was broken at last. And like a man bound treacherously while he
sleeps, he woke up fettered by the long chain of disregarded years. He had
to take up at once the burden of all his existence, and found it almost
@@ -3026,42 +2986,42 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
the days of his tenacious life, and, when life was over, would claim the
worn-out body of its slave....
</p>
- <p>
+ <p class="p2">
This was the last of the breeze. It veered quickly, changed to a black
south-easter, and blew itself out, giving the ship a famous shove to the
northward into the joyous sunshine of the trade. Rapid and white she ran
homewards in a straight path, under a blue sky and upon the plain of a
- blue sea. She carried Singleton's completed wisdom, Donkin's delicate
+ blue sea. She carried Singleton’s completed wisdom, Donkin’s delicate
susceptibilities, and the conceited folly of us all. The hours of
ineffective turmoil were forgotten; the fear and anguish of these dark
moments were never mentioned in the glowing peace of fine days. Yet from
that time our life seemed to start afresh as though we had died and had
been resuscitated. All the first part of the voyage, the Indian Ocean on
the other side of the Cape, all that was lost in a haze, like an
- ineradicable suspicion of some previous existence. It had ended&mdash;then
- there were blank hours: a livid blurr&mdash;and again we lived! Singleton
+ ineradicable suspicion of some previous existence. It had ended—then
+ there were blank hours: a livid blurr—and again we lived! Singleton
was possessed of sinister truth; Mr. Creighton of a damaged leg; the cook
- of fame&mdash;and shamefully abused the opportunities of his distinction.
- Donkin had an added grievance. He went about repeating with insistence:&mdash;&ldquo;'E
- said 'e would brain me&mdash;did yer 'ear? They are goin' to murder us now
- for the least little thing.&rdquo; We began at last to think it was rather
+ of fame—and shamefully abused the opportunities of his distinction.
+ Donkin had an added grievance. He went about repeating with insistence:—“’E
+ said ’e would brain me—did yer ’ear? They are goin’ to murder us now
+ for the least little thing.” We began at last to think it was rather
awful. And we were conceited! We boasted of our pluck, of our capacity for
work, of our energy. We remembered honourable episodes: our devotion, our
- indomitable perseverance&mdash;and were proud of them as though they had
+ indomitable perseverance—and were proud of them as though they had
been the outcome of our unaided impulses. We remembered our danger, our
- toil&mdash;and conveniently forgot our horrible scare. We decried our
- officers&mdash;who had done nothing&mdash;and listened to the fascinating
+ toil—and conveniently forgot our horrible scare. We decried our
+ officers—who had done nothing—and listened to the fascinating
Donkin. His care for our rights, his disinterested concern for our
dignity, were not discouraged by the invariable contumely of our words, by
- the disdain of our looks. Our contempt for him was unbounded&mdash;and we
+ the disdain of our looks. Our contempt for him was unbounded—and we
could not but listen with interest to that consummate artist. He told us
- we were good men&mdash;a &ldquo;bloomin' condemned lot of good men.&rdquo; Who thanked
- us? Who took any notice of our wrongs? Didn't we lead a &ldquo;dorg's loife for
- two poun' ten a month?&rdquo; Did we think that miserable pay enough to
+ we were good men—a “bloomin’ condemned lot of good men.” Who thanked
+ us? Who took any notice of our wrongs? Didn’t we lead a “dorg’s loife for
+ two poun’ ten a month?” Did we think that miserable pay enough to
compensate us for the risk to our lives and for the loss of our clothes?
- &ldquo;We've lost every rag!&rdquo; he cried. He made us forget that he, at any rate,
- had lost nothing of his own. The younger men listened, thinking&mdash;this
- 'ere Donkin's a long-headed chap, though no kind of man, anyhow. The
+ “We’ve lost every rag!” he cried. He made us forget that he, at any rate,
+ had lost nothing of his own. The younger men listened, thinking—this
+ ’ere Donkin’s a long-headed chap, though no kind of man, anyhow. The
Scandinavians were frightened at his audacities; Wamibo did not
understand; and the older seamen thoughtfully nodded their heads making
the thin gold earrings glitter in the fleshy lobes of hairy ears. Severe,
@@ -3076,24 +3036,24 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
uncouth gait through the sudden stillness of the men; or Mr. Creighton
limped along, smooth-faced, youthful, and more stern than ever, piercing
our short silence with a keen glance of his clear eyes. Behind his back
- Donkin would begin again darting stealthy, sidelong looks.&mdash;&ldquo;'Ere's
- one of 'em. Some of yer 'as made 'im fast that day. Much thanks yer got
- for it. Ain't 'ee a-drivin' yer wusse'n ever?... Let 'im slip
- overboard.... Vy not? It would 'ave been less trouble. Vy not?&rdquo; He
+ Donkin would begin again darting stealthy, sidelong looks.—“’Ere’s
+ one of ’em. Some of yer ’as made ’im fast that day. Much thanks yer got
+ for it. Ain’t ’ee a-drivin’ yer wusse’n ever?... Let ’im slip
+ overboard.... Vy not? It would ’ave been less trouble. Vy not?” He
advanced confidentially, backed away with great effect; he whispered, he
- screamed, waved his miserable arms no thicker than pipe-stems&mdash;stretched
- his lean neck&mdash;spluttered&mdash;squinted. In the pauses of his impassioned
+ screamed, waved his miserable arms no thicker than pipe-stems—stretched
+ his lean neck—spluttered—squinted. In the pauses of his impassioned
orations the wind sighed quietly aloft, the calm sea unheeded murmured in
- a warning whisper along the ship's side. We abominated the creature and
+ a warning whisper along the ship’s side. We abominated the creature and
could not deny the luminous truth of his contentions. It was all so
obvious. We were indubitably good men; our deserts were great and our pay
small. Through our exertions we had saved the ship and the skipper would
- get the credit of it. What had he done? we wanted to know. Donkin asked:&mdash;&ldquo;What
- 'ee could do without hus?&rdquo; and we could not answer. We were oppressed by
+ get the credit of it. What had he done? we wanted to know. Donkin asked:—“What
+ ’ee could do without hus?” and we could not answer. We were oppressed by
the injustice of the world, surprised to perceive how long we had lived
under its burden without realising our unfortunate state, annoyed by the
uneasy suspicion of our undiscerning stupidity. Donkin assured us it was
- all our &ldquo;good 'eartedness,&rdquo; but we would not be consoled by such shallow
+ all our “good ’eartedness,” but we would not be consoled by such shallow
sophistry. We were men enough to courageously admit to ourselves our
intellectual shortcomings; though from that time we refrained from kicking
him, tweaking his nose, or from accidentally knocking him about, which
@@ -3101,35 +3061,35 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
amusement. Davis ceased to talk at him provokingly about black eyes and
flattened noses. Charley, much subdued since the gale, did not jeer at
him. Knowles deferentially and with a crafty air propounded questions such
- as:&mdash;&ldquo;Could we all have the same grub as the mates? Could we all stop
+ as:—“Could we all have the same grub as the mates? Could we all stop
ashore till we got it? What would be the next thing to try for if we got
- that?&rdquo; He answered readily with contemptuous certitude; he strutted with
+ that?” He answered readily with contemptuous certitude; he strutted with
assurance in clothes that were much too big for him as though he had tried
- to disguise himself. These were Jimmy's clothes mostly&mdash;though he
+ to disguise himself. These were Jimmy’s clothes mostly—though he
would accept anything from anybody; but nobody, except Jimmy, had anything
to spare. His devotion to Jimmy was unbounded. He was for ever dodging in
- the little cabin, ministering to Jimmy's wants, humouring his whims,
+ the little cabin, ministering to Jimmy’s wants, humouring his whims,
submitting to his exacting peevishness, often laughing with him. Nothing
could keep him away from the pious work of visiting the sick, especially
when there was some heavy hauling to be done on deck. Mr. Baker had on two
occasions jerked him out from there by the scruff of the neck to our
inexpressible scandal. Was a sick chap to be left without attendance? Were
- we to be ill-used for attending a shipmate?&mdash;&ldquo;What?&rdquo; growled Mr.
+ we to be ill-used for attending a shipmate?—“What?” growled Mr.
Baker, turning menacingly at the mutter, and the whole half-circle like
- one man stepped back a pace. &ldquo;Set the topmast stunsail. Away aloft,
- Donkin, overhaul the gear,&rdquo; ordered the mate inflexibly. &ldquo;Fetch the sail
- along; bend the down-haul clear. Bear a hand.&rdquo; Then, the sail set, he
+ one man stepped back a pace. “Set the topmast stunsail. Away aloft,
+ Donkin, overhaul the gear,” ordered the mate inflexibly. “Fetch the sail
+ along; bend the down-haul clear. Bear a hand.” Then, the sail set, he
would go slowly aft and stand looking at the compass for a long time,
careworn, pensive, and breathing hard as if stifled by the taint of
- unaccountable ill-will that pervaded the ship. &ldquo;What's up amongst them?&rdquo;
- he thought. &ldquo;Can't make out this hanging back and growling. A good crowd,
- too, as they go nowadays.&rdquo; On deck the men exchanged bitter words,
+ unaccountable ill-will that pervaded the ship. “What’s up amongst them?”
+ he thought. “Can’t make out this hanging back and growling. A good crowd,
+ too, as they go nowadays.” On deck the men exchanged bitter words,
suggested by a silly exasperation against something unjust and
irremediable that would not be denied, and would whisper into their ears
long after Donkin had ceased speaking. Our little world went on its curved
and unswerving path carrying a discontented and aspiring population. They
found comfort of a gloomy kind in an interminable and conscientious
- analysis of their unappreciated worth; and inspired by Donkin's hopeful
+ analysis of their unappreciated worth; and inspired by Donkin’s hopeful
doctrines they dreamed enthusiastically of the time when every lonely ship
would travel over a serene sea, manned by a wealthy and well-fed crew of
satisfied skippers.
@@ -3151,10 +3111,10 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
again, for long hours she remained lost in a vast universe of night and
silence where gentle sighs wandering here and there like forlorn souls,
made the still sails flutter as in sudden fear, and the ripple of a
- beshrouded ocean whisper its compassion afar&mdash;in a voice mournful,
+ beshrouded ocean whisper its compassion afar—in a voice mournful,
immense, and faint....
</p>
- <p>
+ <p class="p2">
When the lamp was put out, and the door thrown wide open, Jimmy,
turning on his pillow, could see vanishing beyond the straight line of
top-gallant rail, the quick, repeated visions of a fabulous world made up
@@ -3178,45 +3138,45 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
</p>
<p>
But in the evening, in the dog-watches, and even far into the first
- night-watch, a knot of men could always be seen congregated before Jimmy's
+ night-watch, a knot of men could always be seen congregated before Jimmy’s
cabin. They leaned on each side of the door peacefully interested and with
crossed legs; they stood astride the doorstep discoursing, or sat in
silent couples on his sea-chest; while against the bulwark along the spare
topmast, three or four in a row stared meditatively, with their simple
- faces lit up by the projected glare of Jimmy's lamp. The little place,
+ faces lit up by the projected glare of Jimmy’s lamp. The little place,
repainted white, had, in the night, the brilliance of a silver shrine
where a black idol, reclining stiffly under a blanket, blinked its weary
eyes and received our homage. Donkin officiated. He had the air of a
demonstrator showing a phenomenon, a manifestation bizarre, simple, and
meritorious that, to the beholders, should be a profound and an
- everlasting lesson. &ldquo;Just look at 'im, 'ee knows what's what&mdash;never
- fear!&rdquo; he exclaimed now and then, flourishing a hand hard and fleshless
+ everlasting lesson. “Just look at ’im, ’ee knows what’s what—never
+ fear!” he exclaimed now and then, flourishing a hand hard and fleshless
like the claw of a snipe. Jimmy, on his back, smiled with reserve and
without moving a limb. He affected the languor of extreme weakness, so as
to make it manifest to us that our delay in hauling him out from his
horrible confinement, and then that night spent on the poop among our
- selfish neglect of his needs, had &ldquo;done for him.&rdquo; He rather liked to talk
+ selfish neglect of his needs, had “done for him.” He rather liked to talk
about it, and of course we were always interested. He spoke spasmodically,
- in fast rushes with long pauses between, as a tipsy man walks.... &ldquo;Cook
+ in fast rushes with long pauses between, as a tipsy man walks.... “Cook
had just given me a pannikin of hot coffee.... Slapped it down there, on
- my chest&mdash;banged the door to.... I felt a heavy roll coming; tried to
+ my chest—banged the door to.... I felt a heavy roll coming; tried to
save my coffee, burnt my fingers... and fell out of my bunk.... She went
- over so quick.... Water came in through the ventilator.... I couldn't move
+ over so quick.... Water came in through the ventilator.... I couldn’t move
the door... dark as a grave... tried to scramble up into the upper
berth.... Rats... a rat bit my finger as I got up.... I could hear him
swimming below me.... I thought you would never come... I thought you were
all gone overboard... of course... Could hear nothing but the wind....
- Then you came... to look for the corpse, I suppose. A little more and...&rdquo;
+ Then you came... to look for the corpse, I suppose. A little more and...”
</p>
<p>
- &ldquo;Man! But ye made a rare lot of noise in here,&rdquo; observed Archie,
+ “Man! But ye made a rare lot of noise in here,” observed Archie,
thoughtfully.
</p>
<p>
- &ldquo;You chaps kicked up such a confounded row above.... Enough to scare any
- one.... I didn't know what you were up to.... Bash in the blamed planks...
+ “You chaps kicked up such a confounded row above.... Enough to scare any
+ one.... I didn’t know what you were up to.... Bash in the blamed planks...
my head.... Just what a silly, scary gang of fools would do.... Not much
- good to me anyhow.... Just as well... drown.... Pah.&rdquo;
+ good to me anyhow.... Just as well... drown.... Pah.”
</p>
<p>
He groaned, snapped his big white teeth, and gazed with scorn. Belfast
@@ -3225,203 +3185,203 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
hesitating hand; the boatswain at the door stared a moment, and brusquely
went away with a loud guffaw. Wamibo dreamed.... Donkin felt all over his
sterile chin for the few rare hairs, and said, triumphantly, with a
- sidelong glance at Jimmy:&mdash;&ldquo;Look at 'im! Wish I was 'arf has 'ealthy
- as 'ee is&mdash;I do.&rdquo; He jerked a short thumb over his shoulder towards
- the after end of the ship. &ldquo;That's the blooming way to do 'em!&rdquo; he yelped,
- with forced heartiness. Jimmy said:&mdash;&ldquo;Don't be a dam' fool,&rdquo; in a
+ sidelong glance at Jimmy:—“Look at ’im! Wish I was ’arf has ’ealthy
+ as ’ee is—I do.” He jerked a short thumb over his shoulder towards
+ the after end of the ship. “That’s the blooming way to do ’em!” he yelped,
+ with forced heartiness. Jimmy said:—“Don’t be a dam’ fool,” in a
pleasant voice. Knowles, rubbing his shoulder against the doorpost,
- remarked shrewdly:&mdash;&ldquo;We can't all go an' be took sick&mdash;it would
- be mutiny.&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;Mutiny&mdash;gawn!&rdquo; jeered Donkin, &ldquo;there's no bloomin'
- law against bein' sick.&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;There's six weeks' hard for refoosing
- dooty,&rdquo; argued Knowles, &ldquo;I mind I once seed in Cardiff the crew of an
- overloaded ship&mdash;leastways she weren't overloaded, only a fatherly
+ remarked shrewdly:—“We can’t all go an’ be took sick—it would
+ be mutiny.”—“Mutiny—gawn!” jeered Donkin, “there’s no bloomin’
+ law against bein’ sick.”—“There’s six weeks’ hard for refoosing
+ dooty,” argued Knowles, “I mind I once seed in Cardiff the crew of an
+ overloaded ship—leastways she weren’t overloaded, only a fatherly
old gentleman with a white beard and an umbreller came along the quay and
talked to the hands. Said as how it was crool hard to be drownded in
- winter just for the sake of a few pounds more for the owner&mdash;he said.
- Nearly cried over them&mdash;he did; and he had a square mainsail coat,
- and a gaff-topsail hat too&mdash;all proper. So they chaps they said they
- wouldn't go to be drownded in winter&mdash;depending upon that 'ere
- Plimsoll man to see 'em through the court. They thought to have a bloomin'
- lark and two or three days' spree. And the beak giv' 'em six weeks&mdash;coss
- the ship warn't overloaded. Anyways they made it out in court that she
- wasn't. There wasn't one overloaded ship in Penarth Dock at all. 'Pears
+ winter just for the sake of a few pounds more for the owner—he said.
+ Nearly cried over them—he did; and he had a square mainsail coat,
+ and a gaff-topsail hat too—all proper. So they chaps they said they
+ wouldn’t go to be drownded in winter—depending upon that ’ere
+ Plimsoll man to see ’em through the court. They thought to have a bloomin’
+ lark and two or three days’ spree. And the beak giv’ ’em six weeks—coss
+ the ship warn’t overloaded. Anyways they made it out in court that she
+ wasn’t. There wasn’t one overloaded ship in Penarth Dock at all. ’Pears
that old coon he was only on pay and allowance from some kind people,
- under orders to look for overloaded ships, and he couldn't see no further
+ under orders to look for overloaded ships, and he couldn’t see no further
than the length of his umbreller. Some of us in the boarding-house, where
- I live when I'm looking for a ship in Cardiff, stood by to duck that old
- weeping spunger in the dock. We kept a good look-out, too&mdash;but he
+ I live when I’m looking for a ship in Cardiff, stood by to duck that old
+ weeping spunger in the dock. We kept a good look-out, too—but he
topped his boom directly he was outside the court.... Yes. They got six
- weeks' hard....&rdquo;
+ weeks’ hard....”
</p>
<p>
They listened, full of curiosity, nodding in the pauses their rough
pensive faces. Donkin opened his mouth once or twice, but restrained
himself. Jimmy lay still with open eyes and not at all interested. A
seaman emitted the opinion that after a verdict of atrocious partiality
- &ldquo;the bloomin' beaks go an' drink at the skipper's expense.&rdquo; Others
- assented. It was clear, of course. Donkin said:&mdash;&ldquo;Well, six weeks
- ain't much trouble. You sleep all night in, reg'lar, in chokey. Do it on
- my 'ead.&rdquo; &ldquo;You are used to it ainch'ee, Donkin?&rdquo; asked somebody. Jimmy
+ “the bloomin’ beaks go an’ drink at the skipper’s expense.” Others
+ assented. It was clear, of course. Donkin said:—“Well, six weeks
+ ain’t much trouble. You sleep all night in, reg’lar, in chokey. Do it on
+ my ’ead.” “You are used to it ainch’ee, Donkin?” asked somebody. Jimmy
condescended to laugh. It cheered up every one wonderfully. Knowles, with
- surprising mental agility, shifted his ground. &ldquo;If we all went sick what
- would become of the ship? eh?&rdquo; He posed the problem and grinned all round.&mdash;&ldquo;Let
- 'er go to 'ell,&rdquo; sneered Donkin. &ldquo;Damn 'er. She ain't yourn.&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;What?
- Just let her drift?&rdquo; insisted Knowles in a tone of unbelief.&mdash;&ldquo;Aye!
- Drift, an' be blowed,&rdquo; affirmed Donkin with fine recklessness. The other
- did not see it&mdash;meditated.&mdash;&ldquo;The stores would run out,&rdquo; he
- muttered, &ldquo;and... never get anywhere... and what about payday?&rdquo; he added
- with greater assurance.&mdash;&ldquo;Jack likes a good pay-day,&rdquo; exclaimed a
- listener on the doorstep. &ldquo;Aye, because then the girls put one arm round
- his neck an' t'other in his pocket, and call him ducky. Don't they, Jack?&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;Jack,
- you're a terror with the gals.&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;He takes three of 'em in tow to
- once, like one of 'em Watkinses two-funnel tugs waddling away with three
- schooners behind.&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;Jack, you're a lame scamp.&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;Jack, tell us
- about that one with a blue eye and a black eye. Do.&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;There's plenty
- of girls with one black eye along the Highway by...&rdquo;
+ surprising mental agility, shifted his ground. “If we all went sick what
+ would become of the ship? eh?” He posed the problem and grinned all round.—“Let
+ ’er go to ’ell,” sneered Donkin. “Damn ’er. She ain’t yourn.”—“What?
+ Just let her drift?” insisted Knowles in a tone of unbelief.—“Aye!
+ Drift, an’ be blowed,” affirmed Donkin with fine recklessness. The other
+ did not see it—meditated.—“The stores would run out,” he
+ muttered, “and... never get anywhere... and what about payday?” he added
+ with greater assurance.—“Jack likes a good pay-day,” exclaimed a
+ listener on the doorstep. “Aye, because then the girls put one arm round
+ his neck an’ t’other in his pocket, and call him ducky. Don’t they, Jack?”—“Jack,
+ you’re a terror with the gals.”—“He takes three of ’em in tow to
+ once, like one of ’em Watkinses two-funnel tugs waddling away with three
+ schooners behind.”—“Jack, you’re a lame scamp.”—“Jack, tell us
+ about that one with a blue eye and a black eye. Do.”—“There’s plenty
+ of girls with one black eye along the Highway by...”
</p>
<p>
- &mdash;&ldquo;No, that's a speshul one&mdash;come, Jack.&rdquo; Donkin looked severe
+ —“No, that’s a speshul one—come, Jack.” Donkin looked severe
and disgusted; Jimmy very bored; a grey-haired sea-dog shook his head
slightly, smiling at the bowl of his pipe, discreetly amused. Knowles
- turned about bewildered; stammered first at one, then at another.&mdash;&ldquo;No!...
- I never!... can't talk sensible sense midst you.... Always on the kid.&rdquo; He
- retired bashfully&mdash;muttering and pleased. They laughed, hooting in
- the crude light, around Jimmy's bed, where on a white pillow his hollowed
+ turned about bewildered; stammered first at one, then at another.—“No!...
+ I never!... can’t talk sensible sense midst you.... Always on the kid.” He
+ retired bashfully—muttering and pleased. They laughed, hooting in
+ the crude light, around Jimmy’s bed, where on a white pillow his hollowed
black face moved to and fro restlessly. A puff of wind came, made the
flame of the lamp leap, and outside, high up, the sails fluttered, while
near by the block of the foresheet struck a ringing blow on the iron
- bulwark. A voice far off cried, &ldquo;Helm up!&rdquo; another, more faint, answered,
- &ldquo;Hard-up, sir!&rdquo; They became silent&mdash;waited expectantly. The
+ bulwark. A voice far off cried, “Helm up!” another, more faint, answered,
+ “Hard-up, sir!” They became silent—waited expectantly. The
grey-haired seaman knocked his pipe on the doorstep and stood up. The
ship leaned over gently and the sea seemed to wake up, murmuring drowsily.
- &ldquo;Here's a little wind comin',&rdquo; said some one very low. Jimmy turned over
+ “Here’s a little wind comin’,” said some one very low. Jimmy turned over
slowly to face the breeze. The voice in the night cried loud and
- commanding:&mdash;&ldquo;Haul the spanker out.&rdquo; The group before the door
+ commanding:—“Haul the spanker out.” The group before the door
vanished out of the light. They could be heard tramping aft while they
- repeated with varied intonations:&mdash;&ldquo;Spanker out!&rdquo;... &ldquo;Out spanker,
- sir!&rdquo; Donkin remained alone with Jimmy. There was a silence. Jimmy opened
+ repeated with varied intonations:—“Spanker out!”... “Out spanker,
+ sir!” Donkin remained alone with Jimmy. There was a silence. Jimmy opened
and shut his lips several times as if swallowing draughts of fresher air;
Donkin moved the toes of his bare feet and looked at them thoughtfully.
</p>
<p>
- &ldquo;Ain't you going to give them a hand with the sail?&rdquo; asked Jimmy.
+ “Ain’t you going to give them a hand with the sail?” asked Jimmy.
</p>
<p>
- &ldquo;No. If six ov 'em ain't 'nough beef to set that blamed, rotten spanker,
- they ain't fit to live,&rdquo; answered Donkin in a bored, far-away voice, as
+ “No. If six ov ’em ain’t ’nough beef to set that blamed, rotten spanker,
+ they ain’t fit to live,” answered Donkin in a bored, far-away voice, as
though he had been talking from the bottom of a hole. Jimmy considered the
conical, fowl-like profile with a queer kind of interest; he was leaning
out of his bunk with the calculating, uncertain expression of a man who
reflects how best to lay hold of some strange creature that looks as
- though it could sting or bite. But he said only:&mdash;&ldquo;The mate will miss
- you&mdash;and there will be ructions.&rdquo;
+ though it could sting or bite. But he said only:—“The mate will miss
+ you—and there will be ructions.”
</p>
<p>
- Donkin got up to go. &ldquo;I will do for 'im some dark night; see if I don't,&rdquo;
+ Donkin got up to go. “I will do for ’im some dark night; see if I don’t,”
he said over his shoulder.
</p>
<p>
- Jimmy went on quickly:&mdash;&ldquo;You're like a poll-parrot, like a screechin'
- poll-parrot.&rdquo; Donkin stopped and cocked his head attentively on one side.
+ Jimmy went on quickly:—“You’re like a poll-parrot, like a screechin’
+ poll-parrot.” Donkin stopped and cocked his head attentively on one side.
His big ears stood out, transparent and veined, resembling the thin wings
of a bat.
</p>
<p>
- &ldquo;Yuss?&rdquo; he said, with his back towards Jimmy.
+ “Yuss?” he said, with his back towards Jimmy.
</p>
<p>
- &ldquo;Yes! Chatter out all you know&mdash;like... like a dirty white cockatoo.&rdquo;
+ “Yes! Chatter out all you know—like... like a dirty white cockatoo.”
</p>
<p>
- Donkin waited. He could hear the other's breathing, long and slow; the
+ Donkin waited. He could hear the other’s breathing, long and slow; the
breathing of a man with a hundredweight or so on the breastbone. Then he
- asked calmly:&mdash;&ldquo;What do I know?&rdquo;
+ asked calmly:—“What do I know?”
</p>
<p>
- &ldquo;What?... What I tell you... not much. What do you want... to talk about
- my health so...&rdquo;
+ “What?... What I tell you... not much. What do you want... to talk about
+ my health so...”
</p>
<p>
- &ldquo;It's a blooming imposyshun. A bloomin', stinkin', first-class imposyshun&mdash;but
- it don't tyke me in. Not it.&rdquo;
+ “It’s a blooming imposyshun. A bloomin’, stinkin’, first-class imposyshun—but
+ it don’t tyke me in. Not it.”
</p>
<p>
Jimmy kept still. Donkin put his hands in his pockets, and in one
slouching stride came up to the bunk.
</p>
<p>
- &ldquo;I talk&mdash;what's the odds. They ain't men 'ere&mdash;sheep they are. A
- driven lot of sheep. I 'old you up... Vy not? You're well orf.&rdquo;
+ “I talk—what’s the odds. They ain’t men ’ere—sheep they are. A
+ driven lot of sheep. I ’old you up... Vy not? You’re well orf.”
</p>
<p>
- &ldquo;I am... I don't say anything about that....&rdquo;
+ “I am... I don’t say anything about that....”
</p>
<p>
- &ldquo;Well. Let 'em see it. Let 'em larn what a man can do. I am a man, I know
- all about yer....&rdquo; Jimmy threw himself further away on the pillow; the
+ “Well. Let ’em see it. Let ’em larn what a man can do. I am a man, I know
+ all about yer....” Jimmy threw himself further away on the pillow; the
other stretched out his skinny neck, jerked his bird face down at him as
- though pecking at the eyes. &ldquo;I am a man. I've seen the inside of every
- chokey in the Colonies rather'n give up my rights....&rdquo;
+ though pecking at the eyes. “I am a man. I’ve seen the inside of every
+ chokey in the Colonies rather’n give up my rights....”
</p>
<p>
- &ldquo;You are a jail-prop,&rdquo; said Jimmy, weakly.
+ “You are a jail-prop,” said Jimmy, weakly.
</p>
<p>
- &ldquo;I am... an' proud of it, too. You! You 'aven't the bloomin' nerve&mdash;so
- you inventyd this 'ere dodge....&rdquo; He paused; then with marked afterthought
- accentuated slowly:&mdash;&ldquo;Yer ain't sick&mdash;are yer?&rdquo;
+ “I am... an’ proud of it, too. You! You ’aven’t the bloomin’ nerve—so
+ you inventyd this ’ere dodge....” He paused; then with marked afterthought
+ accentuated slowly:—“Yer ain’t sick—are yer?”
</p>
<p>
- &ldquo;No,&rdquo; said Jimmy, firmly. &ldquo;Been out of sorts now and again this year,&rdquo; he
+ “No,” said Jimmy, firmly. “Been out of sorts now and again this year,” he
mumbled with a sudden drop in his voice.
</p>
<p>
- Donkin closed one eye, amicable and confidential. He whispered:&mdash;&ldquo;Ye
- 'ave done this afore'aven'tchee?&rdquo; Jimmy smiled&mdash;then as if unable to
- hold back he let himself go:&mdash;&ldquo;Last ship&mdash;yes. I was out of
+ Donkin closed one eye, amicable and confidential. He whispered:—“Ye
+ ’ave done this afore’aven’tchee?” Jimmy smiled—then as if unable to
+ hold back he let himself go:—“Last ship—yes. I was out of
sorts on the passage. See? It was easy. They paid me off in Calcutta, and
the skipper made no bones about it either.... I got my money all right.
- Laid up fifty-eight days! The fools! O Lord! The fools! Paid right off.&rdquo;
+ Laid up fifty-eight days! The fools! O Lord! The fools! Paid right off.”
He laughed spasmodically. Donkin chimed in giggling. Then Jimmy coughed
- violently. &ldquo;I am as well as ever,&rdquo; he said, as soon as he could draw
+ violently. “I am as well as ever,” he said, as soon as he could draw
breath.
</p>
<p>
- Donkin made a derisive gesture. &ldquo;In course,&rdquo; he said, profoundly, &ldquo;any one
- can see that.&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;They don't,&rdquo; said Jimmy, gasping like a fish.&mdash;&ldquo;They
- would swallow any yarn,&rdquo; affirmed Donkin.&mdash;&ldquo;Don't you let on too
- much,&rdquo; admonished Jimmy in an exhausted voice.&mdash;&ldquo;Your little gyme?
- Eh?&rdquo; commented Donkin, jovially. Then with sudden disgust: &ldquo;Yer all for
- yerself, s'long as ye're right...&rdquo;
+ Donkin made a derisive gesture. “In course,” he said, profoundly, “any one
+ can see that.”—“They don’t,” said Jimmy, gasping like a fish.—“They
+ would swallow any yarn,” affirmed Donkin.—“Don’t you let on too
+ much,” admonished Jimmy in an exhausted voice.—“Your little gyme?
+ Eh?” commented Donkin, jovially. Then with sudden disgust: “Yer all for
+ yerself, s’long as ye’re right...”
</p>
<p>
So charged with egoism James Wait pulled the blanket up to his chin and
lay still for a while. His heavy lips protruded in an everlasting black
- pout. &ldquo;Why are you so hot on making trouble?&rdquo; he asked without much
+ pout. “Why are you so hot on making trouble?” he asked without much
interest.
</p>
<p>
- &ldquo;'Cos it's a bloomin' shayme. We are put upon... bad food, bad pay... I
- want us to kick up a bloomin' row; a blamed 'owling row that would make
- 'em remember! Knocking people about... brain us indeed! Ain't we men?&rdquo; His
- altruistic indignation blazed. Then he said calmly:&mdash;&ldquo;I've been
- airing yer clothes.&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;All right,&rdquo; said Jimmy, languidly, &ldquo;bring them
- in.&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;Giv' us the key of your chest, I'll put 'em away for yer,&rdquo;
- said Donkin with friendly eagerness.&mdash;&ldquo;Bring 'em in, I will put them
- away myself,&rdquo; answered James Wait with severity. Donkin looked down,
- muttering.... &ldquo;What d'you say? What d'you say?&rdquo; inquired Wait anxiously.&mdash;&ldquo;Nothink.
- The night's dry, let 'em 'ang out till the morning,&rdquo; said Donkin, in a
+ “’Cos it’s a bloomin’ shayme. We are put upon... bad food, bad pay... I
+ want us to kick up a bloomin’ row; a blamed ’owling row that would make
+ ’em remember! Knocking people about... brain us indeed! Ain’t we men?” His
+ altruistic indignation blazed. Then he said calmly:—“I’ve been
+ airing yer clothes.”—“All right,” said Jimmy, languidly, “bring them
+ in.”—“Giv’ us the key of your chest, I’ll put ’em away for yer,”
+ said Donkin with friendly eagerness.—“Bring ’em in, I will put them
+ away myself,” answered James Wait with severity. Donkin looked down,
+ muttering.... “What d’you say? What d’you say?” inquired Wait anxiously.—“Nothink.
+ The night’s dry, let ’em ’ang out till the morning,” said Donkin, in a
strangely trembling voice, as though restraining laughter or rage. Jimmy
- seemed satisfied.&mdash;&ldquo;Give me a little water for the night in my mug&mdash;there,&rdquo;
- he said. Donkin took a stride over the doorstep.&mdash;&ldquo;Git it yerself,&rdquo;
- he replied in a surly tone. &ldquo;You can do it, unless you <i>are</i> sick.&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;Of
- course I can do it,&rdquo; said Wait, &ldquo;only... &ldquo;&mdash;&ldquo;Well, then, do it,&rdquo; said
- Donkin, viciously, &ldquo;if yer can look after yer clothes, yer can look after
- yerself.&rdquo; He went on deck without a look back.
+ seemed satisfied.—“Give me a little water for the night in my mug—there,”
+ he said. Donkin took a stride over the doorstep.—“Git it yerself,”
+ he replied in a surly tone. “You can do it, unless you <i>are</i> sick.”—“Of
+ course I can do it,” said Wait, “only... “—“Well, then, do it,” said
+ Donkin, viciously, “if yer can look after yer clothes, yer can look after
+ yerself.” He went on deck without a look back.
</p>
<p>
Jimmy reached out for the mug. Not a drop. He put it back gently with a
- faint sigh&mdash;and closed his eyes. He thought:&mdash;That lunatic
+ faint sigh—and closed his eyes. He thought:—That lunatic
Belfast will bring me some water if I ask. Fool. I am very thirsty.... It
was very hot in the cabin, and it seemed to turn slowly round, detach
itself from the ship, and swing out smoothly into a luminous, arid space
@@ -3430,43 +3390,43 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
side of an empty well, and flew away flapping vigorously. A ship whose
mastheads protruded through the sky and could not be seen, was discharging
grain, and the wind whirled the dry husks in spirals along the quay of a
- dock with no water in it. He whirled along with the husks&mdash;very tired
- and light. All his inside was gone. He felt lighter than the husks&mdash;and
+ dock with no water in it. He whirled along with the husks—very tired
+ and light. All his inside was gone. He felt lighter than the husks—and
more dry. He expanded his hollow chest. The air streamed in, carrying away
in its rush a lot of strange things that resembled houses, trees, people,
- lamp-posts.... No more! There was no more air&mdash;and he had not
+ lamp-posts.... No more! There was no more air—and he had not
finished drawing his long breath. But he was in jail! They were locking
him up. A door slammed. They turned the key twice, flung a bucket of water
- over him&mdash;Phoo! What for?
+ over him—Phoo! What for?
</p>
<p>
- He opened his eyes, thinking the fall had been very heavy for an empty man&mdash;empty&mdash;empty.
+ He opened his eyes, thinking the fall had been very heavy for an empty man—empty—empty.
He was in his cabin. Ah! All right! His face was streaming with
perspiration, his arms heavier than lead. He saw the cook standing in the
doorway, a brass key in one hand and a bright tin hook-pot in the other.
</p>
<p>
- &ldquo;I have locked up the galley for the night,&rdquo; said the cook, beaming
- benevolently. &ldquo;Eight bells just gone. I brought you a pot of cold tea for
- your night's drinking, Jimmy. I sweetened it with some white cabin sugar,
- too. Well&mdash;it won't break the ship.&rdquo;
+ “I have locked up the galley for the night,” said the cook, beaming
+ benevolently. “Eight bells just gone. I brought you a pot of cold tea for
+ your night’s drinking, Jimmy. I sweetened it with some white cabin sugar,
+ too. Well—it won’t break the ship.”
</p>
<p>
He came in, hung the pot on the edge of the bunk, asked perfunctorily,
- &ldquo;How goes it?&rdquo; and sat down on the box.&mdash;&ldquo;H'm,&rdquo; grunted Wait,
+ “How goes it?” and sat down on the box.—“H’m,” grunted Wait,
inhospitably. The cook wiped his face with a dirty cotton rag, which,
- afterwards, he tied round his neck.&mdash;&ldquo;That's how them firemen do in
- steamboats,&rdquo; he said, serenely, and much pleased with himself. &ldquo;My work is
- as heavy as theirs&mdash;I'm thinking&mdash;and longer hours. Did you ever
- see them down the stokehold? Like fiends they look&mdash;firing&mdash;firing&mdash;firing&mdash;down
- there.&rdquo;
+ afterwards, he tied round his neck.—“That’s how them firemen do in
+ steamboats,” he said, serenely, and much pleased with himself. “My work is
+ as heavy as theirs—I’m thinking—and longer hours. Did you ever
+ see them down the stokehold? Like fiends they look—firing—firing—firing—down
+ there.”
</p>
<p>
He pointed his forefinger at the deck. Some gloomy thought darkened his
shining face, fleeting, like the shadow of a travelling cloud over the
light of a peaceful sea. The relieved watch tramped noisily forward,
passing in a body across the sheen of the doorway. Some one cried,
- &ldquo;Good-night!&rdquo; Belfast stopped for a moment and looked at Jimmy, quivering
+ “Good-night!” Belfast stopped for a moment and looked at Jimmy, quivering
and speechless with repressed emotion. He gave the cook a glance charged
with dismal foreboding, and vanished. The cook cleared his throat. Jimmy
stared upwards and kept as still as a man in hiding.
@@ -3477,32 +3437,32 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
of eternal light, thrown over the dark pathway of the earth. On the
forecastle head a man whistled with loud precision a lively jig, while
another could be heard faintly, shuffling and stamping in time. There came
- from forward a confused murmur of voices, laughter&mdash;snatches of song.
+ from forward a confused murmur of voices, laughter—snatches of song.
The cook shook his head, glanced obliquely at Jimmy, and began to mutter.
- &ldquo;Aye. Dance and sing. That's all they think of. I am surprised that
- Providence don't get tired.... They forget the day that's sure to come...
- but you....&rdquo;
+ “Aye. Dance and sing. That’s all they think of. I am surprised that
+ Providence don’t get tired.... They forget the day that’s sure to come...
+ but you....”
</p>
<p>
Jimmy drank a gulp of tea, hurriedly, as though he had stolen it, and
shrank under his blanket, edging away towards the bulkhead. The cook got
- up, closed the door, then sat down again and said distinctly:&mdash;
+ up, closed the door, then sat down again and said distinctly:—
</p>
<p>
- &ldquo;Whenever I poke my galley fire I think of you chaps&mdash;swearing,
- stealing, lying, and worse&mdash;as if there was no such thing as another
- world.... Not bad fellows, either, in a way,&rdquo; he conceded, slowly; then,
- after a pause of regretful musing, he went on in a resigned tone:&mdash;&ldquo;Well,
+ “Whenever I poke my galley fire I think of you chaps—swearing,
+ stealing, lying, and worse—as if there was no such thing as another
+ world.... Not bad fellows, either, in a way,” he conceded, slowly; then,
+ after a pause of regretful musing, he went on in a resigned tone:—“Well,
well. They will have a hot time of it. Hot! Did I say? The furnaces of one
- of them White Star boats ain't nothing to it.&rdquo;
+ of them White Star boats ain’t nothing to it.”
</p>
<p>
He kept very quiet for a while. There was a great stir in his brain; an
addled vision of bright outlines; an exciting row of rousing songs and
groans of pain. He suffered, enjoyed, admired, approved. He was delighted,
- frightened, exalted&mdash;as on that evening (the only time in his life&mdash;twenty-seven
+ frightened, exalted—as on that evening (the only time in his life—twenty-seven
years ago; he loved to recall the number of years) when as a young man he
- had&mdash;through keeping bad company&mdash;become intoxicated in an
+ had—through keeping bad company—become intoxicated in an
East-end music-hall. A tide of sudden feeling swept him clean out of his
body. He soared. He contemplated the secret of the hereafter. It commended
itself to him. It was excellent; he loved it, himself, all hands, and
@@ -3510,72 +3470,72 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
desire to meddle, with anxiety for the soul of that black man, with the
pride of possessed eternity, with the feeling of might. Snatch him up in
his arms and pitch him right into the middle of salvation... The black
- soul&mdash;blacker&mdash;body&mdash;rot&mdash;Devil. No! Talk&mdash;strength&mdash;Samson....
+ soul—blacker—body—rot—Devil. No! Talk—strength—Samson....
There was a great din as of cymbals in his ears; he flashed through an
ecstatic jumble of shining faces, lilies, prayer-books, unearthly joy,
white skirts, gold harps, black coats, wings. He saw flowing garments,
- clean shaved faces, a sea of light&mdash;a lake of pitch. There were sweet
- scents, a smell of sulphur&mdash;red tongues of flame licking a white mist.
+ clean shaved faces, a sea of light—a lake of pitch. There were sweet
+ scents, a smell of sulphur—red tongues of flame licking a white mist.
An awesome voice thundered!... It lasted three seconds.
</p>
<p>
- &ldquo;Jimmy!&rdquo; he cried in an inspired tone. Then he hesitated. A spark of human
+ “Jimmy!” he cried in an inspired tone. Then he hesitated. A spark of human
pity glimmered yet through the infernal fog of his supreme conceit.
</p>
<p>
- &ldquo;What?&rdquo; said James Wait, unwillingly. There was a silence. He turned his
- head just the least bit, and stole a cautious glance. The cook's lips
+ “What?” said James Wait, unwillingly. There was a silence. He turned his
+ head just the least bit, and stole a cautious glance. The cook’s lips
moved without a sound; his face was rapt, his eyes turned up. He seemed to
be mentally imploring deck beams, the brass hook of the lamp, two
cockroaches.
</p>
<p>
- &ldquo;Look here,&rdquo; said Wait, &ldquo;I want to go to sleep. I think I could.&rdquo;
+ “Look here,” said Wait, “I want to go to sleep. I think I could.”
</p>
<p>
- &ldquo;This is no time for sleep!&rdquo; exclaimed the cook, very loud. He had
+ “This is no time for sleep!” exclaimed the cook, very loud. He had
prayerfully divested himself of the last vestige of his humanity. He was a
- voice&mdash;a fleshless and sublime thing, as on that memorable night&mdash;the
+ voice—a fleshless and sublime thing, as on that memorable night—the
night when he went walking over the sea to make coffee for perishing
- sinners. &ldquo;This is no time for sleeping,&rdquo; he repeated with exaltation. &ldquo;I
- can't sleep.&rdquo;
+ sinners. “This is no time for sleeping,” he repeated with exaltation. “I
+ can’t sleep.”
</p>
<p>
- &ldquo;Don't care damn,&rdquo; said Wait, with factitious energy. &ldquo;I can. Go an' turn
- in.&rdquo;
+ “Don’t care damn,” said Wait, with factitious energy. “I can. Go an’ turn
+ in.”
</p>
<p>
- &ldquo;Swear... in the very jaws!... In the very jaws! Don't you see the
- everlasting fire... don't you feel it? Blind, chockfull of sin! Repent,
- repent! I can't bear to think of you. I hear the call to save you. Night
- and day. Jimmy, let me save you!&rdquo; The words of entreaty and menace broke
+ “Swear... in the very jaws!... In the very jaws! Don’t you see the
+ everlasting fire... don’t you feel it? Blind, chockfull of sin! Repent,
+ repent! I can’t bear to think of you. I hear the call to save you. Night
+ and day. Jimmy, let me save you!” The words of entreaty and menace broke
out of him in a roaring torrent. The cockroaches ran away. Jimmy
perspired, wriggling stealthily under his blanket. The cook yelled....
- &ldquo;Your days are numbered!... &ldquo;&mdash;&ldquo;Get out of this,&rdquo; boomed Wait,
- courageously.&mdash;&ldquo;Pray with me!... &ldquo;&mdash;&ldquo;I won't!...&rdquo; The little
+ “Your days are numbered!... “—“Get out of this,” boomed Wait,
+ courageously.—“Pray with me!... “—“I won’t!...” The little
cabin was as hot as an oven. It contained an immensity of fear and pain;
an atmosphere of shrieks and moans; prayers vociferated like blasphemies
and whispered curses. Outside, the men called by Charley, who informed
- them in tones of delight that there was a holy row going on in Jimmy's
+ them in tones of delight that there was a holy row going on in Jimmy’s
place, crowded before the closed door, too startled to open it. All hands
were there. The watch below had jumped out on deck in their shirts, as
- after a collision. Men running up, asked:&mdash;&ldquo;What is it?&rdquo; Others said:&mdash;&ldquo;Listen!&rdquo;
- The muffled screaming went on:&mdash;&ldquo;On your knees! On your knees!&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;Shut
- up!&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;Never! You are delivered into my hands.... Your life has been
- saved.... Purpose.... Mercy.... Repent.&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;You are a crazy fool!...&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;Account
- of you... you... Never sleep in this world, if I...&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;Leave off.&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;No!...
- stokehold... only think!...&rdquo; Then an impassioned screeching babble where
- words pattered like hail.&mdash;&ldquo;No!&rdquo; shouted Wait.&mdash;&ldquo;Yes. You
- are!... No help.... Everybody says so.&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;You lie!&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;I see you
- dying this minnyt... before my eyes... as good as dead already.&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;Help!&rdquo;
- shouted Jimmy, piercingly.&mdash;&ldquo;Not in this valley.... look upwards,&rdquo;
- howled the other.&mdash;&ldquo;Go away! Murder! Help!&rdquo; clamoured Jimmy. His
+ after a collision. Men running up, asked:—“What is it?” Others said:—“Listen!”
+ The muffled screaming went on:—“On your knees! On your knees!”—“Shut
+ up!”—“Never! You are delivered into my hands.... Your life has been
+ saved.... Purpose.... Mercy.... Repent.”—“You are a crazy fool!...”—“Account
+ of you... you... Never sleep in this world, if I...”—“Leave off.”—“No!...
+ stokehold... only think!...” Then an impassioned screeching babble where
+ words pattered like hail.—“No!” shouted Wait.—“Yes. You
+ are!... No help.... Everybody says so.”—“You lie!”—“I see you
+ dying this minnyt... before my eyes... as good as dead already.”—“Help!”
+ shouted Jimmy, piercingly.—“Not in this valley.... look upwards,”
+ howled the other.—“Go away! Murder! Help!” clamoured Jimmy. His
voice broke. There were moanings, low mutters, a few sobs.
</p>
<p>
- &ldquo;What's the matter now?&rdquo; said a seldom-heard voice.&mdash;&ldquo;Fall back, men!
- Fall back, there!&rdquo; repeated Mr. Creighton, sternly, pushing through.&mdash;&ldquo;Here's
- the old man,&rdquo; whispered some.&mdash;&ldquo;The cook's in there, sir,&rdquo; exclaimed
+ “What’s the matter now?” said a seldom-heard voice.—“Fall back, men!
+ Fall back, there!” repeated Mr. Creighton, sternly, pushing through.—“Here’s
+ the old man,” whispered some.—“The cook’s in there, sir,” exclaimed
several, backing away. The door clattered open; a broad stream of light
darted out on wondering faces; a warm whiff of vitiated air passed. The
two mates towered head and shoulders above the spare, grey-haired man who
@@ -3586,32 +3546,32 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
They gazed astonished at his long, curved back, while the white corner of
one eye gleamed blindly at them. He was afraid to turn his head, he shrank
within himself; and there was an aspect astounding and animal-like in the
- perfection of his expectant immobility. A thing of instinct&mdash;the
- unthinking stillness of a scared brute. &ldquo;What are you doing here?&rdquo; asked
- Mr. Baker, sharply.&mdash;&ldquo;My duty,&rdquo; said the cook, with ardour.&mdash;&ldquo;Your...
- what?&rdquo; began the mate. Captain Allistoun touched his arm lightly.&mdash;&ldquo;I
- know his caper,&rdquo; he said, in a low voice. &ldquo;Come out of that, Podmore,&rdquo; he
+ perfection of his expectant immobility. A thing of instinct—the
+ unthinking stillness of a scared brute. “What are you doing here?” asked
+ Mr. Baker, sharply.—“My duty,” said the cook, with ardour.—“Your...
+ what?” began the mate. Captain Allistoun touched his arm lightly.—“I
+ know his caper,” he said, in a low voice. “Come out of that, Podmore,” he
ordered, aloud.
</p>
<p>
The cook wrung his hands, shook his fists above his head, and his arms
- dropped as if too heavy. For a moment he stood distracted and speechless.&mdash;&ldquo;Never,&rdquo;
- he stammered, &ldquo;I... he I.&rdquo;&mdash;
+ dropped as if too heavy. For a moment he stood distracted and speechless.—“Never,”
+ he stammered, “I... he... I.”—
</p>
<p>
- &ldquo;What&mdash;do&mdash;you&mdash;say?&rdquo; pronounced Captain Allistoun. &ldquo;Come
- out at once&mdash;or...&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;I am going,&rdquo; said the cook, with a hasty
- and sombre resignation. He strode over the doorstep firmly&mdash;hesitated&mdash;made
- a few steps. They looked at him in silence.&mdash;&ldquo;I make you
- responsible!&rdquo; he cried, desperately, turning half round. &ldquo;That man is
- dying. I make you.. &ldquo;&mdash;&ldquo;You there yet?&rdquo; called the master in a
- threatening tone.&mdash;&ldquo;No, sir,&rdquo; he exclaimed, hurriedly, in a startled
+ “What—do—you—say?” pronounced Captain Allistoun. “Come
+ out at once—or...”—“I am going,” said the cook, with a hasty
+ and sombre resignation. He strode over the doorstep firmly—hesitated—made
+ a few steps. They looked at him in silence.—“I make you
+ responsible!” he cried, desperately, turning half round. “That man is
+ dying. I make you... “—“You there yet?” called the master in a
+ threatening tone.—“No, sir,” he exclaimed, hurriedly, in a startled
voice. The boatswain led him away by the arm; some one laughed; Jimmy
lifted his head for a stealthy glance, and in one unexpected leap sprang
out of his bunk; Mr. Baker made a clever catch and felt him very limp in
- his arms; the group at the door grunted with surprise.&mdash;&ldquo;He lies,&rdquo;
- gasped Wait, &ldquo;he talked about black devils&mdash;he is a devil&mdash;a
- white devil&mdash;I am all right.&rdquo; He stiffened himself, and Mr. Baker,
+ his arms; the group at the door grunted with surprise.—“He lies,”
+ gasped Wait, “he talked about black devils—he is a devil—a
+ white devil—I am all right.” He stiffened himself, and Mr. Baker,
experimentally, let him go. He staggered a pace or two; Captain Allistoun
watched him with a quiet and penetrating gaze; Belfast ran to his support.
He did not appear to be aware of any one near him; he stood silent for a
@@ -3621,85 +3581,85 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
scuppers as the ship heeled over to a short puff of wind.
</p>
<p>
- &ldquo;Keep him away from me,&rdquo; said James Wait at last in his fine baritone
- voice, and leaning with all his weight on Belfast's neck. &ldquo;I've been
+ “Keep him away from me,” said James Wait at last in his fine baritone
+ voice, and leaning with all his weight on Belfast’s neck. “I’ve been
better this last week:... I am well... I was going back to duty...
- to-morrow&mdash;now if you like&mdash;Captain.&rdquo; Belfast hitched his
+ to-morrow—now if you like—Captain.” Belfast hitched his
shoulders to keep him upright.
</p>
<p>
- &ldquo;No,&rdquo; said the master, looking at him, fixedly. Under Jimmy's armpit
- Belfast's red face moved uneasily. A row of eyes gleaming stared on the
+ “No,” said the master, looking at him, fixedly. Under Jimmy’s armpit
+ Belfast’s red face moved uneasily. A row of eyes gleaming stared on the
edge of light. They pushed one another with elbows, turned their heads,
whispered. Wait let his chin fall on his breast and, with lowered eyelids,
looked round in a suspicious manner.
</p>
<p>
- &ldquo;Why not?&rdquo; cried a voice from the shadows, &ldquo;the man's all right, sir.&rdquo;
+ “Why not?” cried a voice from the shadows, “the man’s all right, sir.”
</p>
<p>
- &ldquo;I am all right,&rdquo; said Wait, with eagerness. &ldquo;Been sick... better...
- turn-to now.&rdquo; He sighed.&mdash;&ldquo;Howly Mother!&rdquo; exclaimed Belfast with a
- heave of the shoulders, &ldquo;stand up, Jimmy.&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;Keep away from me then,&rdquo;
+ “I am all right,” said Wait, with eagerness. “Been sick... better...
+ turn-to now.” He sighed.—“Howly Mother!” exclaimed Belfast with a
+ heave of the shoulders, “stand up, Jimmy.”—“Keep away from me then,”
said Wait, giving Belfast a petulant push, and reeling fetched against the
doorpost. His cheekbones glistened as though they had been varnished. He
snatched off his night-cap, wiped his perspiring face with it, flung it on
- the deck. &ldquo;I am coming out,&rdquo; he declared without stirring.
+ the deck. “I am coming out,” he declared without stirring.
</p>
<p>
- &ldquo;No. You don't,&rdquo; said the master, curtly. Bare feet shuffled, disapproving
- voices murmured all round; he went on as if he had not heard:&mdash;&ldquo;You
+ “No. You don’t,” said the master, curtly. Bare feet shuffled, disapproving
+ voices murmured all round; he went on as if he had not heard:—“You
have been skulking nearly all the passage and now you want to come out.
- You think you are near enough to the pay-table now. Smell the shore, hey?&rdquo;
+ You think you are near enough to the pay-table now. Smell the shore, hey?”
</p>
<p>
- &ldquo;I've been sick... now&mdash;better,&rdquo; mumbled Wait, glaring in the light.&mdash;&ldquo;You
- have been shamming sick,&rdquo; retorted Captain Allistoun with severity;
- &ldquo;Why...&rdquo; he hesitated for less than half a second. &ldquo;Why, anybody can see
- that. There's nothing the matter with you, but you choose to lie-up to
- please yourself&mdash;and now you shall lie-up to please me. Mr. Baker, my
+ “I’ve been sick... now—better,” mumbled Wait, glaring in the light.—“You
+ have been shamming sick,” retorted Captain Allistoun with severity;
+ “Why...” he hesitated for less than half a second. “Why, anybody can see
+ that. There’s nothing the matter with you, but you choose to lie-up to
+ please yourself—and now you shall lie-up to please me. Mr. Baker, my
orders are that this man is not to be allowed on deck to the end of the
- passage.&rdquo;
+ passage.”
</p>
<p>
There were exclamations of surprise, triumph, indignation. The dark group
- of men swung across the light. &ldquo;What for?&rdquo; &ldquo;Told you so...&rdquo; &ldquo;Bloomin'
- shame...&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;We've got to say somethink about that,&rdquo; screeched Donkin
- from the rear.&mdash;&ldquo;Never mind, Jim&mdash;we will see you righted,&rdquo;
- cried several together. An elderly seaman stepped to the front. &ldquo;D'ye mean
- to say, sir,&rdquo; he asked, ominously, &ldquo;that a sick chap ain't allowed to get
- well in this 'ere hooker?&rdquo; Behind him Donkin whispered excitedly amongst a
+ of men swung across the light. “What for?” “Told you so...” “Bloomin’
+ shame...”—“We’ve got to say somethink about that,” screeched Donkin
+ from the rear.—“Never mind, Jim—we will see you righted,”
+ cried several together. An elderly seaman stepped to the front. “D’ye mean
+ to say, sir,” he asked, ominously, “that a sick chap ain’t allowed to get
+ well in this ’ere hooker?” Behind him Donkin whispered excitedly amongst a
staring crowd where no one spared him a glance, but Captain Allistoun
- shook a forefinger at the angry bronzed face of the speaker.&mdash;&ldquo;You&mdash;you
- hold your tongue,&rdquo; he said, warningly.&mdash;&ldquo;This isn't the way,&rdquo;
- clamoured two or three younger men.&mdash;&ldquo;Are we bloomin' masheens?&rdquo;
+ shook a forefinger at the angry bronzed face of the speaker.—“You—you
+ hold your tongue,” he said, warningly.—“This isn’t the way,”
+ clamoured two or three younger men.—“Are we bloomin’ masheens?”
inquired Donkin in a piercing tone, and dived under the elbows of the
- front rank.&mdash;&ldquo;Soon show 'im we ain't boys...&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;The man's a man
- if he is black.&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;We ain't goin' to work this bloomin' ship
- shorthanded if Snowball's all right...&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;He says he is.&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;Well
- then, strike, boys, strike!&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;That's the bloomin' ticket.&rdquo; Captain
- Allistoun said sharply to the second mate: &ldquo;Keep quiet, Mr. Creighton,&rdquo;
+ front rank.—“Soon show ’im we ain’t boys...”—“The man’s a man
+ if he is black.”—“We ain’t goin’ to work this bloomin’ ship
+ shorthanded if Snowball’s all right...”—“He says he is.”—“Well
+ then, strike, boys, strike!”—“That’s the bloomin’ ticket.” Captain
+ Allistoun said sharply to the second mate: “Keep quiet, Mr. Creighton,”
and stood composed in the tumult, listening with profound attention to
mixed growls and screeches, to every exclamation and every curse of the
sudden outbreak. Somebody slammed the cabin door to with a kick; the
darkness full of menacing mutters leaped with a short clatter over the
streak of light, and the men became gesticulating shadows that growled,
- hissed, laughed excitedly. Mr. Baker whispered:&mdash;&ldquo;Get away from them,
- sir.&rdquo; The big shape of Mr. Creighton hovered silently about the slight
- figure of the master.&mdash;&ldquo;We have been hymposed upon all this voyage,&rdquo;
- said a gruff voice, &ldquo;but this 'ere fancy takes the cake.&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;That man
- is a shipmate.&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;Are we bloomin' kids?&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;The port watch will
- refuse duty.&rdquo; Charley carried away by his feeling whistled shrilly, then
- yelped:&mdash;&ldquo;Giv' us our Jimmy!&rdquo; This seemed to cause a variation in the
+ hissed, laughed excitedly. Mr. Baker whispered:—“Get away from them,
+ sir.” The big shape of Mr. Creighton hovered silently about the slight
+ figure of the master.—“We have been hymposed upon all this voyage,”
+ said a gruff voice, “but this ’ere fancy takes the cake.”—“That man
+ is a shipmate.”—“Are we bloomin’ kids?”—“The port watch will
+ refuse duty.” Charley carried away by his feeling whistled shrilly, then
+ yelped:—“Giv’ us our Jimmy!” This seemed to cause a variation in the
disturbance. There was a fresh burst of squabbling uproar. A lot of
- quarrels were set going at once.&mdash;&ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;No.&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;Never
- been sick.&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;Go for them to once.&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;Shut yer mouth, youngster&mdash;-this
- is men's work.&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;Is it?&rdquo; muttered Captain Allistoun, bitterly. Mr.
- Baker grunted: &ldquo;Ough! They're gone silly. They've been simmering for the
- last month.&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;I did notice,&rdquo; said the master.&mdash;&ldquo;They have
- started a row amongst themselves now,&rdquo; said Mr. Creighton with disdain,
- &ldquo;better get aft, sir. We will soothe them.&mdash;&ldquo;Keep your temper,
- Creighton,&rdquo; said the master. And the three men began to move slowly
+ quarrels were set going at once.—“Yes.”—“No.”—“Never
+ been sick.”—“Go for them to once.”—“Shut yer mouth, youngster—-this
+ is men’s work.”—“Is it?” muttered Captain Allistoun, bitterly. Mr.
+ Baker grunted: “Ough! They’re gone silly. They’ve been simmering for the
+ last month.”—“I did notice,” said the master.—“They have
+ started a row amongst themselves now,” said Mr. Creighton with disdain,
+ “better get aft, sir. We will soothe them.—“Keep your temper,
+ Creighton,” said the master. And the three men began to move slowly
towards the cabin door.
</p>
<p>
@@ -3707,33 +3667,33 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
retreated. There were words of reproach, encouragement, unbelief,
execration. The elder seamen, bewildered and angry, growled their
determination to go through with something or other; but the younger
- school of advanced thought exposed their and Jimmy's wrongs with confused
+ school of advanced thought exposed their and Jimmy’s wrongs with confused
shouts, arguing amongst themselves. They clustered round that moribund
carcass, the fit emblem of their aspirations, and encouraging one another
they swayed, they tramped on one spot, shouting that they would not be
- &ldquo;put upon.&rdquo; Inside the cabin, Belfast, helping Jimmy into his bunk,
+ “put upon.” Inside the cabin, Belfast, helping Jimmy into his bunk,
twitched all over in his desire not to miss all the row, and with
difficulty restrained the tears of his facile emotion. James Wait, flat on
- his back under the blanket, gasped complaints.&mdash;&ldquo;We will back you up,
- never fear,&rdquo; assured Belfast, busy about his feet.&mdash;
+ his back under the blanket, gasped complaints.—“We will back you up,
+ never fear,” assured Belfast, busy about his feet.—
</p>
<p>
- &ldquo;I'll come out to-morrow morning&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;take my chance&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;-you
- fellows must&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo; mumbled Wait, &ldquo;I come out to-morrow&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;skipper
- or no skipper.&rdquo; He lifted one arm with great difficulty, passed the hand
- over his face; &ldquo;Don't you let that cook...&rdquo; he breathed out.&mdash;&ldquo;No,
- no,&rdquo; said Belfast, turning his back on the bunk, &ldquo;I will put a head on him
- if he comes near you.&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;I will smash his mug!&rdquo; exclaimed faintly
- Wait, enraged and weak; &ldquo;I don't want to kill a man, but...&rdquo; He panted
+ “I’ll come out to-morrow morning———take my chance———-you
+ fellows must———” mumbled Wait, “I come out to-morrow———skipper
+ or no skipper.” He lifted one arm with great difficulty, passed the hand
+ over his face; “Don’t you let that cook...” he breathed out.—“No,
+ no,” said Belfast, turning his back on the bunk, “I will put a head on him
+ if he comes near you.”—“I will smash his mug!” exclaimed faintly
+ Wait, enraged and weak; “I don’t want to kill a man, but...” He panted
fast like a dog after a run in sunshine. Some one just outside the door
- shouted, &ldquo;He's as fit as any ov us!&rdquo; Belfast put his hand on the
- door-handle.&mdash;&ldquo;Here!&rdquo; called James Wait, hurriedly, and in such a
+ shouted, “He’s as fit as any ov us!” Belfast put his hand on the
+ door-handle.—“Here!” called James Wait, hurriedly, and in such a
clear voice that the other spun round with a start. James Wait, stretched
out black and deathlike in the dazzling light, turned his head on the
- pillow. His eyes stared at Belfast, appealing and impudent. &ldquo;I am rather
- weak from lying-up so long,&rdquo; he said, distinctly. Belfast nodded. &ldquo;Getting
- quite well now,&rdquo; insisted Wait.&mdash;&ldquo;Yes. I noticed you getting better
- this... last month,&rdquo; said Belfast, looking down. &ldquo;Hallo! What's this?&rdquo; he
+ pillow. His eyes stared at Belfast, appealing and impudent. “I am rather
+ weak from lying-up so long,” he said, distinctly. Belfast nodded. “Getting
+ quite well now,” insisted Wait.—“Yes. I noticed you getting better
+ this... last month,” said Belfast, looking down. “Hallo! What’s this?” he
shouted and ran out.
</p>
<p>
@@ -3741,28 +3701,28 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
lurched against him. A lot of disputes seemed to be going on all round. He
got clear and saw three indistinct figures standing along in the fainter
darkness under the arched foot of the mainsail, that rose above their
- heads like a convex wall of a high edifice. Donkin hissed:&mdash;&ldquo;Go for
- them... it's dark!&rdquo; The crowd took a short run aft in a body&mdash;then
+ heads like a convex wall of a high edifice. Donkin hissed:—“Go for
+ them... it’s dark!” The crowd took a short run aft in a body—then
there was a check. Donkin, agile and thin, flitted past with his right arm
- going like a windmill&mdash;and then stood still suddenly with his arm
+ going like a windmill—and then stood still suddenly with his arm
pointing rigidly above his head. The hurtling flight of some heavy object
was heard; it passed between the heads of the two mates, bounded heavily
along the deck, struck the after hatch with a ponderous and deadened blow.
- The bulky shape of Mr. Baker grew distinct. &ldquo;Come to your senses, men!&rdquo; he
- cried, advancing at the arrested crowd. &ldquo;Come back, Mr. Baker!&rdquo; called the
- master's quiet voice. He obeyed unwillingly. There was a minute of
+ The bulky shape of Mr. Baker grew distinct. “Come to your senses, men!” he
+ cried, advancing at the arrested crowd. “Come back, Mr. Baker!” called the
+ master’s quiet voice. He obeyed unwillingly. There was a minute of
silence, then a deafening hubbub arose. Above it Archie was heard
- energetically:&mdash;&ldquo;If ye do oot ageen I wull tell!&rdquo; There were shouts.
- &ldquo;Don't!&rdquo; &ldquo;Drop it!&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;We ain't that kind!&rdquo; The black cluster of human
+ energetically:—“If ye do oot ageen I wull tell!” There were shouts.
+ “Don’t!” “Drop it!”—“We ain’t that kind!” The black cluster of human
forms reeled against the bulwark, back again towards the house. Ringbolts
- rang under stumbling feet.&mdash;&ldquo;Drop it!&rdquo; &ldquo;Let me!&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;No!&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;Curse
- you... hah!&rdquo; Then sounds as of some one's face being slapped; a piece of
- iron fell on the deck; a short scuffle, and some one's shadowy body
+ rang under stumbling feet.—“Drop it!” “Let me!”—“No!”—“Curse
+ you... hah!” Then sounds as of some one’s face being slapped; a piece of
+ iron fell on the deck; a short scuffle, and some one’s shadowy body
scuttled rapidly across the main hatch before the shadow of a kick. A
- raging voice sobbed out a torrent of filthy language...&mdash;&ldquo;Throwing
- things&mdash;good God!&rdquo; grunted Mr. Baker in dismay.&mdash;&ldquo;That was meant
- for me,&rdquo; said the master, quietly; &ldquo;I felt the wind of that thing; what
- was it&mdash;an iron belaying-pin?&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;By Jove!&rdquo; muttered Mr.
+ raging voice sobbed out a torrent of filthy language...—“Throwing
+ things—good God!” grunted Mr. Baker in dismay.—“That was meant
+ for me,” said the master, quietly; “I felt the wind of that thing; what
+ was it—an iron belaying-pin?”—“By Jove!” muttered Mr.
Creighton. The confused voices of men talking amidships mingled with the
wash of the sea, ascended between the silent and distended sails seemed to
flow away into the night, further than the horizon, higher than the sky.
@@ -3783,31 +3743,31 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
musketry; the chain sheets and loose shackles jingled aloft in a thin
peal; the gin blocks groaned. It was as if an invisible hand had given the
ship an angry shake to recall the men that peopled her decks to the sense
- of reality, vigilance, and duty.&mdash;&ldquo;Helm up!&rdquo; cried the master,
- sharply. &ldquo;Run aft, Mr. Creighton, and see what that fool there is up to.&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;Flatten
- in the head sheets. Stand by the weather fore-braces,&rdquo; growled Mr. Baker.
+ of reality, vigilance, and duty.—“Helm up!” cried the master,
+ sharply. “Run aft, Mr. Creighton, and see what that fool there is up to.”—“Flatten
+ in the head sheets. Stand by the weather fore-braces,” growled Mr. Baker.
Startled men ran swiftly repeating the orders. The watch below, abandoned
all at once by the watch on deck, drifted towards the forecastle in twos
- and threes, arguing noisily as they went&mdash;&ldquo;We shall see to-morrow!&rdquo;
+ and threes, arguing noisily as they went—“We shall see to-morrow!”
cried a loud voice, as if to cover with a menacing hint an inglorious
retreat. And then only orders were heard, the falling of heavy coils of
- rope, the rattling of blocks. Singleton's white head flitted here and
- there in the night, high above the deck, like the ghost of a bird.&mdash;&ldquo;Going
- off, sir!&rdquo; shouted Mr. Creighton from aft.&mdash;&ldquo;Full again.&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;All
- right... &ldquo;&mdash;&ldquo;Ease off the head sheets. That will do the braces. Coil
- the ropes up,&rdquo; grunted Mr. Baker, bustling about.
+ rope, the rattling of blocks. Singleton’s white head flitted here and
+ there in the night, high above the deck, like the ghost of a bird.—“Going
+ off, sir!” shouted Mr. Creighton from aft.—“Full again.”—“All
+ right... “—“Ease off the head sheets. That will do the braces. Coil
+ the ropes up,” grunted Mr. Baker, bustling about.
</p>
<p>
Gradually the tramping noises, the confused sound of voices, died out, and
the officers, coming together on the poop, discussed the events. Mr. Baker
was bewildered and grunted; Mr. Creighton was calmly furious; but Captain
- Allistoun was composed and thoughtful. He listened to Mr. Baker's growling
- argumentation, to Creighton's interjected and severe remarks, while
- looking down on the deck he weighed in his hand the iron belaying-pin&mdash;that
- a moment ago had just missed his head&mdash;as if it had been the only
+ Allistoun was composed and thoughtful. He listened to Mr. Baker’s growling
+ argumentation, to Creighton’s interjected and severe remarks, while
+ looking down on the deck he weighed in his hand the iron belaying-pin—that
+ a moment ago had just missed his head—as if it had been the only
tangible fact of the whole transaction. He was one of those commanders who
- speak little, seem to hear nothing, look at no one&mdash;and know
- everything, hear every whisper, see every fleeting shadow of their ship's
+ speak little, seem to hear nothing, look at no one—and know
+ everything, hear every whisper, see every fleeting shadow of their ship’s
life. His two big officers towered above his lean, short figure; they
talked over his head; they were dismayed, surprised, and angry, while
between them the little quiet man seemed to have found his taciturn
@@ -3818,46 +3778,46 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
left behind and for ever the foolish noise of turbulent mankind. But it
was renewed again and again. Gesticulating arms, profiles of heads with
open mouths appeared for a moment in the illuminated squares of doorways;
- black fists darted&mdash;withdrew... &ldquo;Yes. It was most damnable to have
- such an unprovoked row sprung on one,&rdquo; assented the master. ... A tumult
- of yells rose in the light, abruptly ceased.... He didn't think there
+ black fists darted—withdrew... “Yes. It was most damnable to have
+ such an unprovoked row sprung on one,” assented the master. ... A tumult
+ of yells rose in the light, abruptly ceased.... He didn’t think there
would be any further trouble just then.... A bell was struck aft, another,
forward, answered in a deeper tone, and the clamour of ringing metal
spread round the ship in a circle of wide vibrations that ebbed away into
- the immeasurable night of an empty sea.... Didn't he know them! Didn't he!
+ the immeasurable night of an empty sea.... Didn’t he know them! Didn’t he!
In past years. Better men, too. Real men to stand by one in a tight place.
- Worse than devils too sometimes&mdash;downright, horned devils. Pah! This&mdash;
+ Worse than devils too sometimes—downright, horned devils. Pah! This—
nothing. A miss as good as a mile.... The wheel was being relieved in the
- usual way&mdash;&ldquo;Full and by,&rdquo; said, very loud, the man going off.&mdash;&ldquo;Full
- and by,&rdquo; repeated the other, catching hold of the spokes.&mdash;&ldquo;This head
- wind is my trouble,&rdquo; exclaimed the master, stamping his foot in sudden
- anger; &ldquo;head wind! all the rest is nothing.&rdquo; He was calm again in a
- moment. &ldquo;Keep them on the move to-night, gentlemen; just to let them feel
- we've got hold all the time&mdash;quietly, you know. Mind you keep your
+ usual way—“Full and by,” said, very loud, the man going off.—“Full
+ and by,” repeated the other, catching hold of the spokes.—“This head
+ wind is my trouble,” exclaimed the master, stamping his foot in sudden
+ anger; “head wind! all the rest is nothing.” He was calm again in a
+ moment. “Keep them on the move to-night, gentlemen; just to let them feel
+ we’ve got hold all the time—quietly, you know. Mind you keep your
hands off them, Creighton. To-morrow I will talk to them like a Dutch
Uncle. A crazy crowd of tinkers! Yes, tinkers! I could count the real
- sailors amongst them on the fingers of one hand. Nothing will do but a row&mdash;if&mdash;you&mdash;please.&rdquo;
- He paused. &ldquo;Did you think I had gone wrong there, Mr. Baker?&rdquo; He tapped
- his forehead, laughed short. &ldquo;When I saw him standing there, three parts
- dead and so scared&mdash;black amongst that gaping lot&mdash;no grit to
- face what's coming to us all&mdash;the notion came to me all at once,
- before I could think. Sorry for him&mdash;like you would be for a sick
+ sailors amongst them on the fingers of one hand. Nothing will do but a row—if—you—please.”
+ He paused. “Did you think I had gone wrong there, Mr. Baker?” He tapped
+ his forehead, laughed short. “When I saw him standing there, three parts
+ dead and so scared—black amongst that gaping lot—no grit to
+ face what’s coming to us all—the notion came to me all at once,
+ before I could think. Sorry for him—like you would be for a sick
brute. If ever creature was in a mortal funk to die!... I thought I would
let him go out in his own way. Kind of impulse. It never came into my
- head, those fools.... H'm! Stand to it now&mdash;of course.&rdquo; He stuck the
- belaying-pin in his pocket, seemed ashamed of himself, then sharply:&mdash;&ldquo;If
+ head, those fools.... H’m! Stand to it now—of course.” He stuck the
+ belaying-pin in his pocket, seemed ashamed of himself, then sharply:—“If
you see Podmore at his tricks again tell him I will have him put under the
pump. Had to do it once before. The fellow breaks out like that now and
- then. Good cook tho'.&rdquo; He walked away quickly, came back to the companion.
+ then. Good cook tho’.” He walked away quickly, came back to the companion.
The two mates followed him through the starlight with amazed eyes. He went
down three steps, and changing his tone, spoke with his head near the
- deck:&mdash;&ldquo;I shan't turn in to-night, in case of anything; just call out
+ deck:—“I shan’t turn in to-night, in case of anything; just call out
if... Did you see the eyes of that sick nigger, Mr. Baker? I fancied he
begged me for something. What? Past all help. One lone black beggar
amongst the lot of us, and he seemed to look through me into the very
hell. Fancy, this wretched Podmore! Well, let him die in peace. I am
master here after all. Let him be. He might have been half a man once...
- Keep a good look-out.&rdquo; He disappeared down below, leaving his mates facing
+ Keep a good look-out.” He disappeared down below, leaving his mates facing
one another, and more impressed than if they had seen a stone image shed a
miraculous tear of compassion over the incertitudes of life and death....
</p>
@@ -3875,21 +3835,21 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
somnambulists; while now and then one of the watch on deck would rush in,
looking strangely over-dressed, listen a moment, fling a rapid sentence
into the noise and run out again; but a few remained near the door,
- fascinated, and with one ear turned to the deck. &ldquo;Stick together, boys,&rdquo;
+ fascinated, and with one ear turned to the deck. “Stick together, boys,”
roared Davis. Belfast tried to make himself heard. Knowles grinned in a
slow, dazed way. A short fellow with a thick clipped beard kept on yelling
- periodically:&mdash;&ldquo;Who's afeard? Who's afeard?&rdquo; Another one jumped up,
+ periodically:—“Who’s afeard? Who’s afeard?” Another one jumped up,
excited, with blazing eyes, sent out a string of unattached curses and sat
- down quietly. Two men discussed familiarly, striking one another's breast
+ down quietly. Two men discussed familiarly, striking one another’s breast
in turn, to clinch arguments. Three others, with their heads in a bunch,
spoke all together with a confidential air, and at the top of their
voices. It was a stormy chaos of speech where intelligible fragments
- tossing, struck the ear. One could hear:&mdash;&ldquo;In the last ship&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;Who
- cares? Try it on any one of us if&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;-.&rdquo;
+ tossing, struck the ear. One could hear:—“In the last ship”—“Who
+ cares? Try it on any one of us if———-.”
</p>
<p>
- &ldquo;Knock under&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;Not a hand's turn&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;He says he is all right&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;I
- always thought&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;Never mind....&rdquo; Donkin, crouching all in a heap
+ “Knock under”—“Not a hand’s turn”—“He says he is all right”—“I
+ always thought”—“Never mind....” Donkin, crouching all in a heap
against the bowsprit, hunched his shoulderblades as high as his ears, and
hanging a peaked nose, resembled a sick vulture with ruffled plumes.
Belfast, straddling his legs, had a face red with yelling, and with arms
@@ -3901,8 +3861,8 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
</p>
<p>
He stepped forward, impassive and big. The noise subsided like a broken
- wave: but Belfast cried once more with uplifted arms:&mdash;&ldquo;The man is
- dying I tell ye!&rdquo; then sat down suddenly on the hatch and took his head
+ wave: but Belfast cried once more with uplifted arms:—“The man is
+ dying I tell ye!” then sat down suddenly on the hatch and took his head
between his hands. All looked at Singleton, gazing upwards from the deck,
staring out of dark corners, or turning their heads with curious glances.
They were expectant and appeased as if that old man, who looked at no one,
@@ -3912,33 +3872,33 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
ships, had listened many times to voices such as theirs, had already seen
all that could happen on the wide seas. They heard his voice rumble in his
broad chest as though the words had been rolling towards them out of a
- rugged past. &ldquo;What do you want to do?&rdquo; he asked. No one answered. Only
- Knowles muttered&mdash;&ldquo;Aye, aye,&rdquo; and somebody said low:&mdash;&ldquo;It's a
- bloomin' shame.&rdquo; He waited, made a contemptuous gesture.&mdash;&ldquo;I have
- seen rows aboard ship before some of you were born,&rdquo; he said, slowly, &ldquo;for
- something or nothing; but never for such a thing.&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;The man is
- dying, I tell ye,&rdquo; repeated Belfast, woefully, sitting at Singleton's
- feet.&mdash;&ldquo;And a black fellow, too,&rdquo; went on the old seaman, &ldquo;I have
- seen them die like flies.&rdquo; He stopped, thoughtful, as if trying to
+ rugged past. “What do you want to do?” he asked. No one answered. Only
+ Knowles muttered—“Aye, aye,” and somebody said low:—“It’s a
+ bloomin’ shame.” He waited, made a contemptuous gesture.—“I have
+ seen rows aboard ship before some of you were born,” he said, slowly, “for
+ something or nothing; but never for such a thing.”—“The man is
+ dying, I tell ye,” repeated Belfast, woefully, sitting at Singleton’s
+ feet.—“And a black fellow, too,” went on the old seaman, “I have
+ seen them die like flies.” He stopped, thoughtful, as if trying to
recollect gruesome things, details of horrors, hecatombs of niggers. They
looked at him fascinated. He was old enough to remember slavers, bloody
mutinies, pirates perhaps; who could tell through what violences and
- terrors he had lived! What would he say? He said:&mdash;&ldquo;You can't help
- him; die he must.&rdquo; He made another pause. His moustache and beard stirred.
+ terrors he had lived! What would he say? He said:—“You can’t help
+ him; die he must.” He made another pause. His moustache and beard stirred.
He chewed words, mumbled behind tangled white hairs; incomprehensible and
- exciting, like an oracle behind a veil....&mdash;&ldquo;Stop ashore&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;sick.&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;-Instead&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;bringing
- all this head wind. Afraid. The sea will have her own.&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;Die
- in sight of land. Always so. They know it&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;long passage&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;more
- days, more dollars.&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;You&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+ exciting, like an oracle behind a veil....—“Stop ashore———sick.———-Instead———bringing
+ all this head wind. Afraid. The sea will have her own.———Die
+ in sight of land. Always so. They know it———long passage———more
+ days, more dollars.———You——”
</p>
<p>
- He seemed to wake up from a dream. &ldquo;You can't help yourselves,&rdquo; he said,
- austerely, &ldquo;Skipper's no fool. He has something in his mind. Look out&mdash;say!
- I know 'em!&rdquo; With eyes fixed in front he turned his head from right to
- left, from left to right, as if inspecting a long row of astute skippers.&mdash;&ldquo;'Ee
- said 'ee would brain me!&rdquo; cried Donkin in a heartrending tone. Singleton
- peered downwards with puzzled attention, as though he couldn't find him.&mdash;&ldquo;Damn
- you!&rdquo; he said, vaguely, giving it up. He radiated unspeakable wisdom, hard
+ He seemed to wake up from a dream. “You can’t help yourselves,” he said,
+ austerely, “Skipper’s no fool. He has something in his mind. Look out—say!
+ I know ’em!” With eyes fixed in front he turned his head from right to
+ left, from left to right, as if inspecting a long row of astute skippers.—“’Ee
+ said ’ee would brain me!” cried Donkin in a heartrending tone. Singleton
+ peered downwards with puzzled attention, as though he couldn’t find him.—“Damn
+ you!” he said, vaguely, giving it up. He radiated unspeakable wisdom, hard
unconcern, the chilling air of resignation. Round him all the listeners
felt themselves somehow completely enlightened by their disappointment,
and mute, they lolled about with the careless ease of men who can discern
@@ -3949,57 +3909,57 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
<p>
Belfast was lost in a round-eyed meditation. One or two vaulted heavily
into upper berths, and, once there, sighed; others dived head first inside
- lower bunks&mdash;swift, and turning round instantly upon themselves, like
+ lower bunks—swift, and turning round instantly upon themselves, like
animals going into lairs. The grating of a knife scraping burnt clay was
heard. Knowles grinned no more. Davis said, in a tone of ardent
- conviction: &ldquo;Then our skipper's looney.&rdquo; Archie muttered: &ldquo;My faith! we
- haven't heard the last of it yet!&rdquo; Four bells were struck.&mdash;&ldquo;Half our
- watch below gone!&rdquo; cried Knowles in alarm, then reflected. &ldquo;Well, two
- hours' sleep is something towards a rest,&rdquo; he observed, consolingly. Some
+ conviction: “Then our skipper’s looney.” Archie muttered: “My faith! we
+ haven’t heard the last of it yet!” Four bells were struck.—“Half our
+ watch below gone!” cried Knowles in alarm, then reflected. “Well, two
+ hours’ sleep is something towards a rest,” he observed, consolingly. Some
already pretended to slumber; and Charley, sound asleep, suddenly said a
- few slurred words in an arbitrary, blank voice.&mdash;&ldquo;This blamed boy has
- worrums!&rdquo; commented Knowles from under a blanket, in a learned manner.
- Belfast got up and approached Archie's berth.&mdash;&ldquo;We pulled him out,&rdquo;
- he whispered, sadly.&mdash;&ldquo;What?&rdquo; said the other, with sleepy discontent.&mdash;&ldquo;And
- now we will have to chuck him overboard,&rdquo; went on Belfast, whose lower lip
- trembled.&mdash;&ldquo;Chuck what?&rdquo; asked Archie.&mdash;&ldquo;Poor Jimmy,&rdquo; breathed
- out Belfast.&mdash;&ldquo;He be blowed!&rdquo; said Archie with untruthful brutality,
- and sat up in his bunk; &ldquo;It's all through him. If it hadn't been for me,
- there would have been murder on board this ship!&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;'Tain't his
- fault, is it?&rdquo; argued Belfast, in a murmur; &ldquo;I've put him to bed... an' he
- ain't no heavier than an empty beef-cask,&rdquo; he added, with tears in his
- eyes. Archie looked at him steadily, then turned his nose to the ship's
+ few slurred words in an arbitrary, blank voice.—“This blamed boy has
+ worrums!” commented Knowles from under a blanket, in a learned manner.
+ Belfast got up and approached Archie’s berth.—“We pulled him out,”
+ he whispered, sadly.—“What?” said the other, with sleepy discontent.—“And
+ now we will have to chuck him overboard,” went on Belfast, whose lower lip
+ trembled.—“Chuck what?” asked Archie.—“Poor Jimmy,” breathed
+ out Belfast.—“He be blowed!” said Archie with untruthful brutality,
+ and sat up in his bunk; “It’s all through him. If it hadn’t been for me,
+ there would have been murder on board this ship!”—“’Tain’t his
+ fault, is it?” argued Belfast, in a murmur; “I’ve put him to bed... an’ he
+ ain’t no heavier than an empty beef-cask,” he added, with tears in his
+ eyes. Archie looked at him steadily, then turned his nose to the ship’s
side with determination. Belfast wandered about as though he had lost his
way in the dim forecastle, and nearly fell over Donkin. He contemplated
- him from on high for a while. &ldquo;Ain't ye going to turn in?&rdquo; he asked.
- Donkin looked up hopelessly.&mdash;&ldquo;That black'earted Scotch son of a
- thief kicked me!&rdquo; he whispered from the floor, in a tone of utter
- desolation.&mdash;&ldquo;And a good job, too!&rdquo; said Belfast, still very
- depressed; &ldquo;You were as near hanging as damn-it to-night, sonny. Don't you
- play any of your murthering games around my Jimmy! You haven't pulled him
- out. You just mind! 'Cos if I start to kick you&rdquo;&mdash;he brightened up a
- bit&mdash;&ldquo;if I start to kick you, it will be Yankee fashion&mdash;to
- break something!&rdquo; He tapped lightly with his knuckles the top of the bowed
- head. &ldquo;You moind that, my bhoy!&rdquo; he concluded, cheerily. Donkin let it
- pass.&mdash;&ldquo;Will they split on me?&rdquo; he asked, with pained anxiety.&mdash;&ldquo;Who&mdash;split?&rdquo;
- hissed Belfast, coming back a step. &ldquo;I would split your nose this minyt if
- I hadn't Jimmy to look after! Who d'ye think we are?&rdquo; Donkin rose and
- watched Belfast's back lurch through the doorway. On all sides invisible
+ him from on high for a while. “Ain’t ye going to turn in?” he asked.
+ Donkin looked up hopelessly.—“That black’earted Scotch son of a
+ thief kicked me!” he whispered from the floor, in a tone of utter
+ desolation.—“And a good job, too!” said Belfast, still very
+ depressed; “You were as near hanging as damn-it to-night, sonny. Don’t you
+ play any of your murthering games around my Jimmy! You haven’t pulled him
+ out. You just mind! ’Cos if I start to kick you”—he brightened up a
+ bit—“if I start to kick you, it will be Yankee fashion—to
+ break something!” He tapped lightly with his knuckles the top of the bowed
+ head. “You moind that, my bhoy!” he concluded, cheerily. Donkin let it
+ pass.—“Will they split on me?” he asked, with pained anxiety.—“Who—split?”
+ hissed Belfast, coming back a step. “I would split your nose this minyt if
+ I hadn’t Jimmy to look after! Who d’ye think we are?” Donkin rose and
+ watched Belfast’s back lurch through the doorway. On all sides invisible
men slept, breathing calmly. He seemed to draw courage and fury from the
peace around him. Venomous and thin-faced, he glared from the ample misfit
of borrowed clothes as if looking for something he could smash. His heart
leaped wildly in his narrow chest. They slept! He wanted to wring necks,
gouge eyes, spit on faces. He shook a dirty pair of meagre fists at the
- smoking lights. &ldquo;Ye're no men!&rdquo; he cried, in a deadened tone. No one
- moved. &ldquo;Yer 'aven't the pluck of a mouse!&rdquo; His voice rose to a husky
+ smoking lights. “Ye’re no men!” he cried, in a deadened tone. No one
+ moved. “Yer ’aven’t the pluck of a mouse!” His voice rose to a husky
screech. Wamibo darted out a dishevelled head, and looked at him wildly.
- &ldquo;Ye're sweepings ov ships! I 'ope you will all rot before you die!&rdquo; Wamibo
+ “Ye’re sweepings ov ships! I ’ope you will all rot before you die!” Wamibo
blinked, uncomprehending but interested. Donkin sat down heavily; he blew
with force through quivering nostrils, he ground and snapped his teeth,
and, with the chin pressed hard against the breast, he seemed busy gnawing
his way through it, as if to get at the heart within....
</p>
- <p>
+ <p class="p2">
In the morning the ship, beginning another day of her wandering life, had
an aspect of sumptuous freshness, like the spring-time of the earth. The
washed decks glistened in a long clear stretch; the oblique sunlight
@@ -4019,17 +3979,17 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
walked to and fro before the front. He was grey, slight, alert, shabby in
the sunshine, and as hard as adamant. He had his right hand in the
side-pocket of his jacket, and also something heavy in there that made
- folds all down that side. One of the seamen cleared his throat ominously.&mdash;&ldquo;I
- haven't till now found fault with you men,&rdquo; said the master, stopping
+ folds all down that side. One of the seamen cleared his throat ominously.—“I
+ haven’t till now found fault with you men,” said the master, stopping
short. He faced them with his worn, steely gaze, that by a universal
illusion looked straight into every individual pair of the twenty pairs of
eyes before his face. At his back Mr. Baker, gloomy and bull-necked,
grunted low; Mr. Creighton, fresh as paint, had rosy cheeks and a ready,
- resolute bearing. &ldquo;And I don't now,&rdquo; continued the master; &ldquo;but I am here
+ resolute bearing. “And I don’t now,” continued the master; “but I am here
to drive this ship and keep every man-jack aboard of her up to the mark.
If you knew your work as well as I do mine, there would be no trouble.
- You've been braying in the dark about 'See to-morrow morning!' Well, you
- see me now. What do you want?&rdquo; He waited, stepping quickly to and fro,
+ You’ve been braying in the dark about ‘See to-morrow morning!’ Well, you
+ see me now. What do you want?” He waited, stepping quickly to and fro,
giving them searching glances. What did they want? They shifted from foot
to foot, they balanced their bodies; some, pushing back their caps,
scratched their heads. What did they want? Jimmy was forgotten; no one
@@ -4040,44 +4000,42 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
seemed to be lost for ever in the immensity of their vague and burning
desire. They knew what they wanted, but they could not find anything worth
saying. They stirred on one spot, swinging, at the end of muscular arms,
- big tarry hands with crooked fingers. A murmur died out.&mdash;&ldquo;What is it&mdash;food?&rdquo;
- asked the master, &ldquo;you know the stores have been spoiled off the Cape.&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;We
- know that, sir,&rdquo; said a bearded shell-back in the front rank.&mdash;&ldquo;Work
- too hard&mdash;eh? Too much for your strength?&rdquo; he asked again. There was
- an offended silence.&mdash;&ldquo;We don't want to go shorthanded, sir,&rdquo; began
- at last Davis in a wavering voice, &ldquo;and this 'ere black....&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;Enough!&rdquo;
+ big tarry hands with crooked fingers. A murmur died out.—“What is it—food?”
+ asked the master, “you know the stores have been spoiled off the Cape.”—“We
+ know that, sir,” said a bearded shell-back in the front rank.—“Work
+ too hard—eh? Too much for your strength?” he asked again. There was
+ an offended silence.—“We don’t want to go shorthanded, sir,” began
+ at last Davis in a wavering voice, “and this ’ere black....”—“Enough!”
cried the master. He stood scanning them for a moment, then walking a few
steps this way and that began to storm at them coldly, in gusts violent
- and cutting like the gales of those icy seas that had known his youth.&mdash;&ldquo;Tell
- you what's the matter? Too big for your boots. Think yourselves damn good
+ and cutting like the gales of those icy seas that had known his youth.—“Tell
+ you what’s the matter? Too big for your boots. Think yourselves damn good
men. Know half your work. Do half your duty. Think it too much. If you did
- ten times as much it wouldn't be enough.&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;We did our best by her,
- sir,&rdquo; cried some one with shaky exasperation.&mdash;&ldquo;Your best,&rdquo; stormed
- on the master; &ldquo;You hear a lot on shore, don't you? They don't tell you
- there your best isn't much to boast of. I tell you&mdash;your best is no
- better than bad.&rdquo;
- </p>
- <p>
- &ldquo;You can do no more? No, I know, and say nothing. But you stop your caper
- or I will stop it for you. I am ready for you! Stop it!&rdquo; He shook a finger
- at the crowd. &ldquo;As to that man,&rdquo; he raised his voice very much; &ldquo;as to that
+ ten times as much it wouldn’t be enough.”—“We did our best by her,
+ sir,” cried some one with shaky exasperation.—“Your best,” stormed
+ on the master; “You hear a lot on shore, don’t you? They don’t tell you
+ there your best isn’t much to boast of. I tell you—your best is no
+ better than bad.”
+ “You can do no more? No, I know, and say nothing. But you stop your caper
+ or I will stop it for you. I am ready for you! Stop it!” He shook a finger
+ at the crowd. “As to that man,” he raised his voice very much; “as to that
man, if he puts his nose out on deck without my leave I will clap him in
- irons. There!&rdquo; The cook heard him forward, ran out of the galley lifting
+ irons. There!” The cook heard him forward, ran out of the galley lifting
his arms, horrified, unbelieving, amazed, and ran in again. There was a
moment of profound silence during which a bow-legged seaman, stepping
- aside, expectorated decorously into the scupper. &ldquo;There is another thing,&rdquo;
+ aside, expectorated decorously into the scupper. “There is another thing,”
said the master, calmly. He made a quick stride and with a swing took an
- iron belaying-pin out of his pocket. &ldquo;This!&rdquo; His movement was so
+ iron belaying-pin out of his pocket. “This!” His movement was so
unexpected and sudden that the crowd stepped back. He gazed fixedly at
their faces, and some at once put on a surprised air as though they had
- never seen a belaying-pin before. He held it up. &ldquo;This is my affair. I
- don't ask you any questions, but you all know it; it has got to go where
- it came from.&rdquo; His eyes became angry. The crowd stirred uneasily. They
+ never seen a belaying-pin before. He held it up. “This is my affair. I
+ don’t ask you any questions, but you all know it; it has got to go where
+ it came from.” His eyes became angry. The crowd stirred uneasily. They
looked away from the piece of iron, they appeared shy, they were
embarrassed and shocked as though it had been something horrid,
scandalous, or indelicate, that in common decency should not have been
flourished like this in broad daylight. The master watched them
- attentively. &ldquo;Donkin,&rdquo; he called out in a short, sharp tone.
+ attentively. “Donkin,” he called out in a short, sharp tone.
</p>
<p>
Donkin dodged behind one, then behind another, but they looked over their
@@ -4085,61 +4043,61 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
behind, till at last he appeared alone before the master as though he had
come up through the deck. Captain Allistoun moved close to him. They were
much of a size, and at short range the master exchanged a deadly glance
- with the beady eyes. They wavered.&mdash;&ldquo;You know this?&rdquo; asked the
- master.&mdash;&ldquo;No, I don't,&rdquo; answered the other, with cheeky trepidation.&mdash;&ldquo;You
- are a cur. Take it,&rdquo; ordered the master. Donkin's arms seemed glued to his
- thighs; he stood, eyes front, as if drawn on parade. &ldquo;Take it,&rdquo; repeated
- the master, and stepped closer; they breathed on one another. &ldquo;Take it,&rdquo;
+ with the beady eyes. They wavered.—“You know this?” asked the
+ master.—“No, I don’t,” answered the other, with cheeky trepidation.—“You
+ are a cur. Take it,” ordered the master. Donkin’s arms seemed glued to his
+ thighs; he stood, eyes front, as if drawn on parade. “Take it,” repeated
+ the master, and stepped closer; they breathed on one another. “Take it,”
said Captain Allistoun again, making a menacing gesture. Donkin tore away
- one arm from his side.&mdash;&ldquo;Vy are yer down on me?&rdquo; he mumbled with
- effort and as if his mouth had been full of dough.&mdash;&ldquo;If you don't...&rdquo;
+ one arm from his side.—“Vy are yer down on me?” he mumbled with
+ effort and as if his mouth had been full of dough.—“If you don’t...”
began the master. Donkin snatched at the pin as though his intention had
been to run away with it, and remained stock still holding it like a
- candle. &ldquo;Put it back where you took it from,&rdquo; said Captain Allistoun,
- looking at him fiercely. Donkin stepped back opening wide eyes. &ldquo;Go, you
- blackguard, or I will make you,&rdquo; cried the master, driving him slowly
+ candle. “Put it back where you took it from,” said Captain Allistoun,
+ looking at him fiercely. Donkin stepped back opening wide eyes. “Go, you
+ blackguard, or I will make you,” cried the master, driving him slowly
backwards by a menacing advance. He dodged, and with the dangerous iron
tried to guard his head from a threatening fist. Mr. Baker ceased grunting
- for a moment.&mdash;&ldquo;Good! By Jove,&rdquo; murmured appreciatively Mr. Creighton
- in the tone of a connoisseur.&mdash;&ldquo;Don't tech me,&rdquo; snarled Donkin,
- backing away.&mdash;&ldquo;Then go. Go faster.&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;Don't yer 'it me.... I
- will pull yer up afore the magistryt.... I'll show yer up.&rdquo; Captain
+ for a moment.—“Good! By Jove,” murmured appreciatively Mr. Creighton
+ in the tone of a connoisseur.—“Don’t tech me,” snarled Donkin,
+ backing away.—“Then go. Go faster.”—“Don’t yer ’it me.... I
+ will pull yer up afore the magistryt.... I’ll show yer up.” Captain
Allistoun made a long stride, and Donkin, turning his back fairly, ran off
- a little, then stopped and over his shoulder showed yellow teeth.&mdash;&ldquo;Further
- on, fore-rigging,&rdquo; urged the master, pointing with his arm.&mdash;&ldquo;Are yer
- goin' to stand by and see me bullied?&rdquo; screamed Donkin at the silent crowd
+ a little, then stopped and over his shoulder showed yellow teeth.—“Further
+ on, fore-rigging,” urged the master, pointing with his arm.—“Are yer
+ goin’ to stand by and see me bullied?” screamed Donkin at the silent crowd
that watched him. Captain Allistoun walked at him smartly. He started off
again with a leap, dashed at the fore-rigging, rammed the pin into its
- hole violently. &ldquo;I'll be even with yer yet,&rdquo; he screamed at the ship at
+ hole violently. “I’ll be even with yer yet,” he screamed at the ship at
large and vanished beyond the foremast. Captain Allistoun spun round and
walked back aft with a composed face, as though he had already forgotten
- the scene. Men moved out of his way. He looked at no one.&mdash;&ldquo;That will
- do, Mr. Baker. Send the watch below,&rdquo; he said, quietly. &ldquo;And you men try
- to walk straight for the future,&rdquo; he added in a calm voice. He looked
+ the scene. Men moved out of his way. He looked at no one.—“That will
+ do, Mr. Baker. Send the watch below,” he said, quietly. “And you men try
+ to walk straight for the future,” he added in a calm voice. He looked
pensively for a while at the backs of the impressed and retreating crowd.
- &ldquo;Breakfast, steward,&rdquo; he called in a tone of relief through the cabin
- door.&mdash;&ldquo;I didn't like to see you&mdash;Ough!&mdash;give that pin to
- that chap, sir,&rdquo; observed Mr. Baker; &ldquo;he could have bust&mdash;Ough!&mdash;bust
- your head like an eggshell with it.&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;O! he!&rdquo; muttered the master,
- absently. &ldquo;Queer lot,&rdquo; he went on in a low voice. &ldquo;I suppose it's all
- right now. Can never tell tho' nowadays, with such a... Years ago; I was a
- young master then&mdash;one China voyage I had a mutiny; real mutiny,
- Baker. Different men tho'. I knew what they wanted: they wanted to broach
+ “Breakfast, steward,” he called in a tone of relief through the cabin
+ door.—“I didn’t like to see you—Ough!—give that pin to
+ that chap, sir,” observed Mr. Baker; “he could have bust—Ough!—bust
+ your head like an eggshell with it.”—“O! he!” muttered the master,
+ absently. “Queer lot,” he went on in a low voice. “I suppose it’s all
+ right now. Can never tell tho’ nowadays, with such a... Years ago; I was a
+ young master then—one China voyage I had a mutiny; real mutiny,
+ Baker. Different men tho’. I knew what they wanted: they wanted to broach
the cargo and get at the liquor. Very simple.... We knocked them about for
- two days, and when they had enough&mdash;gentle as lambs. Good crew. And a
- smart trip I made.&rdquo; He glanced aloft at the yards braced sharp up. &ldquo;Head
- wind day after day,&rdquo; he exclaimed, bitterly. &ldquo;Shall we never get a decent
- slant this passage?&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;Ready, sir,&rdquo; said the steward, appearing
- before them as if by magic and with a stained napkin in his hand.&mdash;&ldquo;Ah!
- All right. Come along, Mr. Baker&mdash;it's late&mdash;with all this
- nonsense.&rdquo;
+ two days, and when they had enough—gentle as lambs. Good crew. And a
+ smart trip I made.” He glanced aloft at the yards braced sharp up. “Head
+ wind day after day,” he exclaimed, bitterly. “Shall we never get a decent
+ slant this passage?”—“Ready, sir,” said the steward, appearing
+ before them as if by magic and with a stained napkin in his hand.—“Ah!
+ All right. Come along, Mr. Baker—it’s late—with all this
+ nonsense.”
</p>
<p>
- <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005">
+ <a id="link2HCH0005">
<!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
</p>
<div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ <br ><br ><br ><br >
</div>
<h2>
CHAPTER FIVE
@@ -4160,8 +4118,8 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
of a muddy stream. Falsehood triumphed. It triumphed through doubt,
through stupidity, through pity, through sentimentalism. We set ourselves
to bolster it up from compassion, from recklessness, from a sense of fun.
- Jimmy's steadfastness to his untruthful attitude in the face of the
- inevitable truth had the proportions of a colossal enigma&mdash;of a
+ Jimmy’s steadfastness to his untruthful attitude in the face of the
+ inevitable truth had the proportions of a colossal enigma—of a
manifestation grand and incomprehensible that at times inspired a
wondering awe; and there was also, to many, something exquisitely droll in
fooling him thus to the top of his bent. The latent egoism of tenderness
@@ -4179,7 +4137,7 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
sockets of eyes. He was demoralising. Through him we were becoming highly
humanised, tender, complex, excessively decadent: we understood the
subtlety of his fear, sympathised with all his repulsions, shrinkings,
- evasions, delusions&mdash;as though we had been over-civilised, and
+ evasions, delusions—as though we had been over-civilised, and
rotten, and without any knowledge of the meaning of life. We had the air
of being initiated in some infamous mysteries; we had the profound
grimaces of conspirators, exchanged meaning glances, significant short
@@ -4187,15 +4145,15 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
lied to him with gravity, with emotion, with unction, as if performing
some moral trick with a view to an eternal reward. We made a chorus of
affirmation to his wildest assertions, as though he had been a
- millionaire, a politician, or a reformer&mdash;and we a crowd of ambitious
+ millionaire, a politician, or a reformer—and we a crowd of ambitious
lubbers. When we ventured to question his statements we did it after the
manner of obsequious sycophants, to the end that his glory should be
augmented by the flattery of our dissent. He influenced the moral tone of
our world as though he had it in his power to distribute honours,
treasures, or pain; and he could give us nothing but his contempt. It was
immense; it seemed to grow gradually larger, as his body day by day shrank
- a little more, while we looked. It was the only thing about him&mdash;of
- him&mdash;that gave the impression of durability and vigour. It lived
+ a little more, while we looked. It was the only thing about him—of
+ him—that gave the impression of durability and vigour. It lived
within him with an unquenchable life. It spoke through the eternal pout of
his black lips; it looked at us through the impertinent mournfulness of
his languid and enormous stare. We watched him intently. He seemed
@@ -4207,38 +4165,38 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
penetrating and sad.
</p>
<p>
- It was at that time that Belfast's devotion&mdash;and also his pugnacity&mdash;secured
- universal respect. He spent every moment of his spare time in Jimmy's
+ It was at that time that Belfast’s devotion—and also his pugnacity—secured
+ universal respect. He spent every moment of his spare time in Jimmy’s
cabin. He tended him, talked to him; was as gentle as a woman, as tenderly
gay as an old philanthropist, as sentimentally careful of his nigger as a
model slave-owner. But outside he was irritable, explosive as gunpowder,
sombre, suspicious, and never more brutal than when most sorrowful. With
him it was a tear and a blow: a tear for Jimmy, a blow for any one who did
- not seem to take a scrupulously orthodox view of Jimmy's case. We talked
- about nothing else. The two Scandinavians, even, discussed the situation&mdash;but
+ not seem to take a scrupulously orthodox view of Jimmy’s case. We talked
+ about nothing else. The two Scandinavians, even, discussed the situation—but
it was impossible to know in what spirit, because they quarrelled in their
own language. Belfast suspected one of them of irreverence, and in this
incertitude thought that there was no option but to fight them both. They
became very much terrified by his truculence, and henceforth lived amongst
us, dejected, like a pair of mutes. Wamibo never spoke intelligibly, but
- he was as smileless as an animal&mdash;seemed to know much less about it
- all than the cat&mdash;and consequently was safe. Moreover, he had
- belonged to the chosen band of Jimmy's rescuers, and was above suspicion.
+ he was as smileless as an animal—seemed to know much less about it
+ all than the cat—and consequently was safe. Moreover, he had
+ belonged to the chosen band of Jimmy’s rescuers, and was above suspicion.
Archie was silent generally, but often spent an hour or so talking to
Jimmy quietly with an air of proprietorship. At any time of the day and
- often through the night some man could be seen sitting on Jimmy's box. In
+ often through the night some man could be seen sitting on Jimmy’s box. In
the evening, between six and eight, the cabin was crowded, and there was
an interested group at the door. Every one stared at the nigger.
</p>
<p>
He basked in the warmth of our interest. His eye gleamed ironically, and
- in a weak voice he reproached us with our cowardice. He would say, &ldquo;If you
- fellows had stuck out for me I would be now on deck.&rdquo; We hung our heads.
- &ldquo;Yes, but if you think I am going to let them put me in irons just to
+ in a weak voice he reproached us with our cowardice. He would say, “If you
+ fellows had stuck out for me I would be now on deck.” We hung our heads.
+ “Yes, but if you think I am going to let them put me in irons just to
show you sport.... Well, no.... It ruins my health, this lying-up, it
- does. You don't care.&rdquo; We were as abashed as if it had been true. His
+ does. You don’t care.” We were as abashed as if it had been true. His
superb impudence carried all before it. We would not have dared to revolt.
- We didn't want to, really. We wanted to keep him alive till home&mdash;to
+ We didn’t want to, really. We wanted to keep him alive till home—to
the end of the voyage.
</p>
<p>
@@ -4252,24 +4210,24 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
gaze scrutinising him with a steadiness full of expectation. There was a
sense of a contest in the air. We felt the inward strain of men watching a
wrestling bout. At last Jimmy with perceptible apprehension turned his
- head on the pillow.&mdash;&ldquo;Good evening,&rdquo; he said in a conciliating tone.&mdash;&ldquo;H'm,&rdquo;
+ head on the pillow.—“Good evening,” he said in a conciliating tone.—“H’m,”
answered the old seaman, grumpily. For a moment longer he looked at Jimmy
with severe fixity, then suddenly went away. It was a long time before any
one spoke in the little cabin, though we all breathed more freely as men
do after an escape from some dangerous situation. We all knew the old
- man's ideas about Jimmy, and nobody dared to combat them. They were
+ man’s ideas about Jimmy, and nobody dared to combat them. They were
unsettling, they caused pain; and, what was worse, they might have been
true for all we knew. Only once did he condescend to explain them fully,
but the impression was lasting. He said that Jimmy was the cause of head
- winds. Mortally sick men&mdash;he maintained&mdash;linger till the first
+ winds. Mortally sick men—he maintained—linger till the first
sight of land, and then die; and Jimmy knew that the very first land would
- draw his life from him. It is so in every ship. Didn't we know it? He
+ draw his life from him. It is so in every ship. Didn’t we know it? He
asked us with austere contempt: what did we know? What would we doubt
- next? Jimmy's desire encouraged by us and aided by Wamibo's (he was a Finn&mdash;wasn't
- he? Very well!) by Wamibo's spells delayed the ship in the open sea. Only
- lubberly fools couldn't see it. Whoever heard of such a run of calms and
- head winds? It wasn't natural.... We could not deny that it was strange.
- We felt uneasy. The common saying, &ldquo;More days, more dollars,&rdquo; did not give
+ next? Jimmy’s desire encouraged by us and aided by Wamibo’s (he was a Finn—wasn’t
+ he? Very well!) by Wamibo’s spells delayed the ship in the open sea. Only
+ lubberly fools couldn’t see it. Whoever heard of such a run of calms and
+ head winds? It wasn’t natural.... We could not deny that it was strange.
+ We felt uneasy. The common saying, “More days, more dollars,” did not give
the usual comfort because the stores were running short. Much had been
spoiled off the Cape, and we were on half allowance of biscuit. Peas,
sugar and tea had been finished long ago. Salt meat was giving out. We had
@@ -4281,7 +4239,7 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
forecastle; the tormentor of waking moments, the disturber of dreams. We
looked to windward for signs of change. Every few hours of night and day
we put her round with the hope that she would come up on that tack at
- last! She didn't. She seemed to have forgotten the way home; she rushed to
+ last! She didn’t. She seemed to have forgotten the way home; she rushed to
and fro, heading northwest, heading east; she ran backwards and forwards,
distracted, like a timid creature at the foot of a wall. Sometimes, as if
tired to death, she would wallow languidly for a day in the smooth swell
@@ -4303,31 +4261,31 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
consumed slowly by an inward rage at the injustice of men and of fate. He
was ignored by all and spoke to no one, but his hate for every man dwelt
in his furtive eyes. He talked with the cook only, having somehow
- persuaded the good man that he&mdash;Donkin&mdash;was a much calumniated
- and persecuted person. Together they bewailed the immorality of the ship's
+ persuaded the good man that he—Donkin—was a much calumniated
+ and persecuted person. Together they bewailed the immorality of the ship’s
company. There could be no greater criminals than we, who by our lies
conspired to send the unprepared soul of a poor ignorant black man to
everlasting perdition. Podmore cooked what there was to cook,
remorsefully, and felt all the time that by preparing the food of such
- sinners he imperilled his own salvation. As to the Captain&mdash;he had
+ sinners he imperilled his own salvation. As to the Captain—he had
sailed with him for seven years, now, he said, and would not have believed
- it possible that such a man... &ldquo;Well. Well... There it was... Can't get
+ it possible that such a man... “Well. Well... There it was... Can’t get
out of it. Judgment capsized all in a minute... Struck in all his pride...
- More like a sudden visitation than anything else.&rdquo; Donkin, perched
+ More like a sudden visitation than anything else.” Donkin, perched
sullenly on the coal-locker, swung his legs and concurred. He paid in the
coin of spurious assent for the privilege to sit in the galley; he was
disheartened and scandalised; he agreed with the cook; could find no words
severe enough to criticise our conduct; and when in the heat of
reprobation he swore at us, Podmore, who would have liked to swear also if
- it hadn't been for his principles, pretended not to hear. So Donkin,
+ it hadn’t been for his principles, pretended not to hear. So Donkin,
unrebuked, cursed enough for two, cadged for matches, borrowed tobacco,
and loafed for hours, very much at home, before the stove. From there he
could hear us on the other side of the bulkhead, talking to Jimmy. The
cook knocked the saucepans about, slammed the oven door, muttered
- prophesies of damnation for all the ship's company; and Donkin, who did
+ prophesies of damnation for all the ship’s company; and Donkin, who did
not admit of any hereafter (except for purposes of blasphemy) listened,
concentrated and angry, gloating fiercely over a called-up image of
- infinite torment&mdash;as men gloat over the accursed images of cruelty
+ infinite torment—as men gloat over the accursed images of cruelty
and revenge, of greed, and of power....
</p>
<p>
@@ -4358,26 +4316,26 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
deserted plain. It was the first land seen for nearly four months. Charley
was excited, and in the midst of general indulgence took liberties with
his betters. Men strangely elated without knowing why, talked in groups,
- and pointed with bared arms. For the first time that voyage Jimmy's sham
+ and pointed with bared arms. For the first time that voyage Jimmy’s sham
existence seemed for a moment forgotten in the face of a solid reality. We
had got so far anyhow. Belfast discoursed, quoting imaginary examples of
- short homeward runs from the Islands. &ldquo;Them smart fruit schooners do it in
- five days,&rdquo; he affirmed. &ldquo;What do you want?&mdash;only a good little
- breeze.&rdquo; Archie maintained that seven days was the record passage, and
+ short homeward runs from the Islands. “Them smart fruit schooners do it in
+ five days,” he affirmed. “What do you want?—only a good little
+ breeze.” Archie maintained that seven days was the record passage, and
they disputed amicably with insulting words. Knowles declared he could
already smell home from there, and with a heavy list on his short leg
laughed fit to split his sides. A group of grizzled sea-dogs looked out
- for a time in silence and with grim absorbed faces. One said suddenly&mdash;&ldquo;'Tain't
- far to London now.&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;My first night ashore, blamme if I haven't
- steak and onions for supper... and a pint of bitter,&rdquo; said another.&mdash;&ldquo;A
- barrel ye mean,&rdquo; shouted someone.&mdash;&ldquo;Ham an' eggs three times a day.
- That's the way I live!&rdquo; cried an excited voice. There was a stir,
+ for a time in silence and with grim absorbed faces. One said suddenly—“’Tain’t
+ far to London now.”—“My first night ashore, blamme if I haven’t
+ steak and onions for supper... and a pint of bitter,” said another.—“A
+ barrel ye mean,” shouted someone.—“Ham an’ eggs three times a day.
+ That’s the way I live!” cried an excited voice. There was a stir,
appreciative murmurs; eyes began to shine; jaws champed; short, nervous
laughs were heard. Archie smiled with reserve all to himself. Singleton
came up, gave a careless glance, and went down again without saying a
word, indifferent, like a man who had seen Flores an incalculable number
of times. The night travelling from the East blotted out of the limpid sky
- the purple stain of the high land. &ldquo;Dead calm,&rdquo; said somebody quietly. The
+ the purple stain of the high land. “Dead calm,” said somebody quietly. The
murmur of lively talk suddenly wavered, died out; the clusters broke up;
men began to drift away one by one, descending the ladders slowly and with
serious faces as if sobered by that reminder of their dependence upon the
@@ -4387,17 +4345,17 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
the bosom of the sleeping and terrible sea.
</p>
<p>
- Donkin chafed at the peace&mdash;at the ship&mdash;at the sea that
+ Donkin chafed at the peace—at the ship—at the sea that
stretching away on all sides merged into the illimitable silence of all
creation. He felt himself pulled up sharp by unrecognised grievances. He
had been physically cowed, but his injured dignity remained indomitable,
- and nothing could heal his lacerated feelings. Here was land already&mdash;home
- very soon&mdash;a bad pay-day&mdash;no clothes&mdash;more hard work. How
+ and nothing could heal his lacerated feelings. Here was land already—home
+ very soon—a bad pay-day—no clothes—more hard work. How
offensive all this was. Land. The land that draws away life from sick
- sailors. That nigger there had money&mdash;clothes&mdash;easy times; and
+ sailors. That nigger there had money—clothes—easy times; and
would not die. Land draws life away.... He felt tempted to go and see
- whether it did. Perhaps already.. It would be a bit of luck. There was
- money in the beggar's chest. He stepped briskly out of the shadows into
+ whether it did. Perhaps already... It would be a bit of luck. There was
+ money in the beggar’s chest. He stepped briskly out of the shadows into
the moonlight, and, instantly, his craving, hungry face from sallow became
livid. He opened the door of the cabin and had a shock. Sure enough, Jimmy
was dead! He moved no more than a recumbent figure with clasped hands,
@@ -4406,8 +4364,8 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
shock. Those eyes were rather startling. He shut the door behind his back
with gentle care, looking intently the while at James Wait as though he
had come in there at a great risk to tell some secret of startling
- im-portance. Jimmy did not move but glanced languidly out of the corners
- of his eyes.&mdash;&ldquo;Calm?&rdquo; he asked.&mdash;&ldquo;Yuss,&rdquo; said Donkin, very
+ importance. Jimmy did not move but glanced languidly out of the corners
+ of his eyes.—“Calm?” he asked.—“Yuss,” said Donkin, very
disappointed, and sat down on the box.
</p>
<p>
@@ -4415,52 +4373,52 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
one another. They spoke in clear voices, pronounced cheerful words,
repeated old jokes, listened to him; and each, going out, seemed to leave
behind a little of his own vitality, surrender some of his own strength,
- renew the assurance of life&mdash;the indestructible thing! He did not
+ renew the assurance of life—the indestructible thing! He did not
like to be alone in his cabin, because, when he was alone, it seemed to
- him as if he hadn't been there at all. There was nothing. No pain. Not
- now. Perfectly right&mdash;but he couldn't enjoy his healthful repose
+ him as if he hadn’t been there at all. There was nothing. No pain. Not
+ now. Perfectly right—but he couldn’t enjoy his healthful repose
unless some one was by to see it. This man would do as well as anybody.
- Donkin watched him stealthily:&mdash;&ldquo;Soon home now,&rdquo; observed Wait.&mdash;&ldquo;Vy
- d'yer whisper?&rdquo; asked Donkin with interest, &ldquo;can't yer speak up?&rdquo; Jimmy
+ Donkin watched him stealthily:—“Soon home now,” observed Wait.—“Vy
+ d’yer whisper?” asked Donkin with interest, “can’t yer speak up?” Jimmy
looked annoyed and said nothing for a while; then in a lifeless, unringing
- voice:&mdash;&ldquo;Why should I shout? You ain't deaf that I know.&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;Oh!
- I can 'ear right enough,&rdquo; answered Donkin in a low tone, and looked down.
- He was thinking sadly of going out when Jimmy spoke again.&mdash;&ldquo;Time we
- did get home... to get something decent to eat... I am always hungry.&rdquo;
- Donkin felt angry all of a sudden.&mdash;&ldquo;What about me,&rdquo; he hissed, &ldquo;I am
- 'ungry too an' got ter work. You, 'ungry!&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;Your work won't kill
- you,&rdquo; commented Wait, feebly; &ldquo;there's a couple of biscuits in the lower
- bunk there&mdash;you may have one. I can't eat them.&rdquo; Donkin dived in,
+ voice:—“Why should I shout? You ain’t deaf that I know.”—“Oh!
+ I can ’ear right enough,” answered Donkin in a low tone, and looked down.
+ He was thinking sadly of going out when Jimmy spoke again.—“Time we
+ did get home... to get something decent to eat... I am always hungry.”
+ Donkin felt angry all of a sudden.—“What about me,” he hissed, “I am
+ ’ungry too an’ got ter work. You, ’ungry!”—“Your work won’t kill
+ you,” commented Wait, feebly; “there’s a couple of biscuits in the lower
+ bunk there—you may have one. I can’t eat them.” Donkin dived in,
groped in the corner and when he came up again his mouth was full. He
munched with ardour. Jimmy seemed to doze with open eyes. Donkin finished
- his hard bread and got up.&mdash;&ldquo;You're not going?&rdquo; asked Jimmy, staring
- at the ceiling.&mdash;&ldquo;No,&rdquo; said Donkin, impulsively, and instead of going
+ his hard bread and got up.—“You’re not going?” asked Jimmy, staring
+ at the ceiling.—“No,” said Donkin, impulsively, and instead of going
out leaned his back against the closed door. He looked at James Wait, and
saw him long, lean, dried up, as though all his flesh had shrivelled on
his bones in the heat of a white furnace; the meagre fingers of one hand
moved lightly upon the edge of the bunk playing an endless tune. To look
at him was irritating and fatiguing; he could last like this for days; he
- was outrageous&mdash;belonging wholly neither to death nor life, and
+ was outrageous—belonging wholly neither to death nor life, and
perfectly invulnerable in his apparent ignorance of both. Donkin felt
- tempted to enlighten him.&mdash;&ldquo;What are yer thinkin' of?&rdquo; he asked,
+ tempted to enlighten him.—“What are yer thinkin’ of?” he asked,
surlily. James Wait had a grimacing smile that passed over the deathlike
impassiveness of his bony face, incredible and frightful as would, in a
dream, have been the sudden smile of a corpse.
</p>
<p>
- &ldquo;There is a girl,&rdquo; whispered Wait.... &ldquo;Canton Street girl.&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;She
- chucked a third engineer of a Rennie boat&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;for me.
- Cooks oysters just as I like... She says&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;she would
- chuck&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;any toff&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;louder.&rdquo;
+ “There is a girl,” whispered Wait.... “Canton Street girl.———She
+ chucked a third engineer of a Rennie boat———for me.
+ Cooks oysters just as I like... She says———she would
+ chuck———any toff———louder.”
</p>
<p>
- Donkin could hardly believe his ears. He was scandalised&mdash;&ldquo;Would she?
- Yer wouldn't be any good to 'er,&rdquo; he said with unrestrained disgust. Wait
+ Donkin could hardly believe his ears. He was scandalised—“Would she?
+ Yer wouldn’t be any good to ’er,” he said with unrestrained disgust. Wait
was not there to hear him. He was swaggering up the East India Dock Road;
- saying kindly, &ldquo;Come along for a treat,&rdquo; pushing glass swing-doors, posing
- with superb assurance in the gaslight above a mahogany counter.&mdash;&ldquo;D'yer
- think yer will ever get ashore?&rdquo; asked Donkin, angrily. Wait came back
- with a start.&mdash;&ldquo;Ten days,&rdquo; he said, promptly, and returned at once to
+ saying kindly, “Come along for a treat,” pushing glass swing-doors, posing
+ with superb assurance in the gaslight above a mahogany counter.—“D’yer
+ think yer will ever get ashore?” asked Donkin, angrily. Wait came back
+ with a start.—“Ten days,” he said, promptly, and returned at once to
the regions of memory that know nothing of time. He felt untired, calm,
and safely withdrawn within himself beyond the reach of every grave
incertitude. There was something of the immutable quality of eternity in
@@ -4471,34 +4429,34 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
surrounding existences, that to him shall for ever remain irrealisable,
unseen and enviable. He had a desire to assert his importance, to break,
to crush; to be even with everybody for everything; to tear the veil,
- unmask, expose, leave no refuge&mdash;a perfidious desire of truthfulness!
+ unmask, expose, leave no refuge—a perfidious desire of truthfulness!
He laughed in a mocking splutter and said:
</p>
<p>
- &ldquo;Ten days. Strike me blind if ever!... You will be dead by this time
- to-morrow p'r'aps. Ten days!&rdquo; He waited for a while. &ldquo;D'ye 'ear me? Blamme
- if yer don't look dead already.&rdquo;
+ “Ten days. Strike me blind if ever!... You will be dead by this time
+ to-morrow p’r’aps. Ten days!” He waited for a while. “D’ye ’ear me? Blamme
+ if yer don’t look dead already.”
</p>
<p>
- Wait must have been collecting his strength, for he said almost aloud&mdash;&ldquo;You're
- a stinking, cadging liar. Every one knows you.&rdquo; And sitting up, against
+ Wait must have been collecting his strength, for he said almost aloud—“You’re
+ a stinking, cadging liar. Every one knows you.” And sitting up, against
all probability, startled his visitor horribly. But very soon Donkin
- recovered himself. He blustered, &ldquo;What? What? Who's a liar? You are&mdash;the
- crowd are&mdash;the skipper&mdash;everybody. I ain't! Putting on airs!
- Who's yer?&rdquo; He nearly choked himself with indignation. &ldquo;Who's yer to put
- on airs,&rdquo; he repeated, trembling. &ldquo;'Ave one&mdash;'ave one, says 'ee&mdash;an'
- cawn't eat 'em 'isself. Now I'll 'ave both. By Gawd&mdash;I will! Yer
- nobody!&rdquo;
+ recovered himself. He blustered, “What? What? Who’s a liar? You are—the
+ crowd are—the skipper—everybody. I ain’t! Putting on airs!
+ Who’s yer?” He nearly choked himself with indignation. “Who’s yer to put
+ on airs,” he repeated, trembling. “’Ave one—’ave one, says ’ee—an’
+ cawn’t eat ’em ’isself. Now I’ll ’ave both. By Gawd—I will! Yer
+ nobody!”
</p>
<p>
He plunged into the lower bunk, rooted in there and brought to light
- another dusty biscuit. He held it up before Jimmy&mdash;then took a bite
+ another dusty biscuit. He held it up before Jimmy—then took a bite
defiantly.
</p>
<p>
- &ldquo;What now?&rdquo; he asked with feverish impudence. &ldquo;Yer may take one&mdash;says
- yer. Why not giv' me both? No. I'm a mangy dorg. One fur a mangy dorg.
- I'll tyke both. Can yer stop me? Try. Come on. Try.&rdquo;
+ “What now?” he asked with feverish impudence. “Yer may take one—says
+ yer. Why not giv’ me both? No. I’m a mangy dorg. One fur a mangy dorg.
+ I’ll tyke both. Can yer stop me? Try. Come on. Try.”
</p>
<p>
Jimmy was clasping his legs and hiding his face on the knees. His shirt
@@ -4506,11 +4464,11 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
repeated jerks by the panting catches of his breath.
</p>
<p>
- &ldquo;Yer won't? Yer can't! What did I say?&rdquo; went on Donkin, fiercely. He
- swallowed another dry mouthful with a hasty effort. The other's silent
- helplessness, his weakness, his shrinking attitude exasperated him. &ldquo;Ye're
- done!&rdquo; he cried. &ldquo;Who's yer to be lied to; to be waited on 'and an' foot
- like a bloomin' ymperor. Yer nobody. Yer no one at all!&rdquo; he spluttered
+ “Yer won’t? Yer can’t! What did I say?” went on Donkin, fiercely. He
+ swallowed another dry mouthful with a hasty effort. The other’s silent
+ helplessness, his weakness, his shrinking attitude exasperated him. “Ye’re
+ done!” he cried. “Who’s yer to be lied to; to be waited on ’and an’ foot
+ like a bloomin’ ymperor. Yer nobody. Yer no one at all!” he spluttered
with such a strength of unerring conviction that it shook him from head to
foot in coming out, and left him vibrating like a released string.
</p>
@@ -4520,70 +4478,70 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
despair and fury. Its lips moved rapidly; and hollow, moaning, whistling
sounds filled the cabin with a vague mutter full of menace, complaint and
desolation, like the far-off murmur of a rising wind. Wait shook his head;
- rolled his eyes; he denied, cursed, threatened&mdash;and not a word had
+ rolled his eyes; he denied, cursed, threatened—and not a word had
the strength to pass beyond the sorrowful pout of those black lips. It was
incomprehensible and disturbing; a gibberish of emotions, a frantic dumb
show of speech pleading for impossible things, promising a shadowy
vengeance. It sobered Donkin into a scrutinising watchfulness.
</p>
<p>
- &ldquo;Yer can't oller. See? What did I tell yer?&rdquo; he said, slowly, after a
+ “Yer can’t oller. See? What did I tell yer?” he said, slowly, after a
moment of attentive examination. The other kept on headlong and unheard,
nodding passionately, grinning with grotesque and appalling flashes of big
white teeth. Donkin, as if fascinated by the dumb eloquence and anger of
that black phantom, approached, stretching his neck out with distrustful
curiosity; and it seemed to him suddenly that he was looking only at the
- shadow of a man crouching high in the bunk on the level with his eyes.&mdash;&ldquo;What?
- What?&rdquo; he said. He seemed to catch the shape of some words in the
- continuous panting hiss. &ldquo;Yer will tell Belfast! Will yer? Are yer a
- bloomin' kid?&rdquo; He trembled with alarm and rage, &ldquo;Tell yer gran'mother! Yer
- afeard! Who's yer ter be afeard more'n any one?&rdquo; His passionate sense of
- his own importance ran away with a last remnant of caution. &ldquo;Tell an' be
- damned! Tell, if yer can!&rdquo; he cried. &ldquo;I've been treated worser'n a dorg by
- your blooming back-lickers. They 'as set me on, only to turn aginst me. I
- am the only man 'ere. They clouted me, kicked me&mdash;an' yer laffed&mdash;yer
- black, rotten incumbrance, you! You will pay fur it. They giv' yer their
- grub, their water&mdash;yer will pay fur it to me, by Gawd! Who axed me
- ter 'ave a drink of water? They put their bloomin' rags on yer that night,
- an' what did they giv' ter me&mdash;a clout on the bloomin' mouth&mdash;blast
- their... S'elp me!... Yer will pay fur it with yer money. I'm goin' ter
- 'ave it in a minyte; as soon has ye're dead, yer bloomin' useless fraud.
- That's the man I am. An' ye're a thing&mdash;a bloody thing. Yah&mdash;you
- corpse!&rdquo; He flung at Jimmy's head the biscuit he had been all the time
+ shadow of a man crouching high in the bunk on the level with his eyes.—“What?
+ What?” he said. He seemed to catch the shape of some words in the
+ continuous panting hiss. “Yer will tell Belfast! Will yer? Are yer a
+ bloomin’ kid?” He trembled with alarm and rage, “Tell yer gran’mother! Yer
+ afeard! Who’s yer ter be afeard more’n any one?” His passionate sense of
+ his own importance ran away with a last remnant of caution. “Tell an’ be
+ damned! Tell, if yer can!” he cried. “I’ve been treated worser’n a dorg by
+ your blooming back-lickers. They ’as set me on, only to turn aginst me. I
+ am the only man ’ere. They clouted me, kicked me—an’ yer laffed—yer
+ black, rotten incumbrance, you! You will pay fur it. They giv’ yer their
+ grub, their water—yer will pay fur it to me, by Gawd! Who axed me
+ ter ’ave a drink of water? They put their bloomin’ rags on yer that night,
+ an’ what did they giv’ ter me—a clout on the bloomin’ mouth—blast
+ their... S’elp me!... Yer will pay fur it with yer money. I’m goin’ ter
+ ’ave it in a minyte; as soon has ye’re dead, yer bloomin’ useless fraud.
+ That’s the man I am. An’ ye’re a thing—a bloody thing. Yah—you
+ corpse!” He flung at Jimmy’s head the biscuit he had been all the time
clutching hard, but it only grazed, and striking with a loud crack the
bulkhead beyond burst like a hand-grenade into flying pieces. James Wait,
as if wounded mortally, fell back on the pillow. His lips ceased to move
and the rolling eyes became quiet and stared upwards with an intense and
steady persistence. Donkin was surprised; he sat suddenly on the chest,
and looked down, exhausted and gloomy. After a moment, he began to mutter
- to himself, &ldquo;Die, you beggar&mdash;die. Somebody'll come in... I wish I
- was drunk... Ten days... oysters...&rdquo; He looked up and spoke louder. &ldquo;No...
- No more for yer... no more bloomin' gals that cook oysters... Who's yer?
- It's my turn now... I wish I was drunk; I would soon giv' you a leg up.
- That's where yer bound to go. Feet fust, through a port... Splash! Never
- see yer any more. Overboard! Good 'nuff fur yer.&rdquo; Jimmy's head moved
- slightly and he turned his eyes to Donkin's face; a gaze unbelieving,
+ to himself, “Die, you beggar—die. Somebody’ll come in... I wish I
+ was drunk... Ten days... oysters...” He looked up and spoke louder. “No...
+ No more for yer... no more bloomin’ gals that cook oysters... Who’s yer?
+ It’s my turn now... I wish I was drunk; I would soon giv’ you a leg up.
+ That’s where yer bound to go. Feet fust, through a port... Splash! Never
+ see yer any more. Overboard! Good ’nuff fur yer.” Jimmy’s head moved
+ slightly and he turned his eyes to Donkin’s face; a gaze unbelieving,
desolated and appealing, of a child frightened by the menace of being shut
up alone in the dark. Donkin observed him from the chest with hopeful
- eyes; then, without rising, tried the lid. Locked. &ldquo;I wish I was drunk,&rdquo;
+ eyes; then, without rising, tried the lid. Locked. “I wish I was drunk,”
he muttered and getting up listened anxiously to the distant sound of
- footsteps on the deck. They approached&mdash;ceased. Some one yawned
+ footsteps on the deck. They approached—ceased. Some one yawned
interminably just outside the door, and the footsteps went away shuffling
- lazily. Donkin's fluttering heart eased its pace, and when he looked
- towards the bunk again Jimmy was staring as before at the white beam.&mdash;&ldquo;'Ow
- d'yer feel now?&rdquo; he asked.&mdash;&ldquo;Bad,&rdquo; breathed out Jimmy.
+ lazily. Donkin’s fluttering heart eased its pace, and when he looked
+ towards the bunk again Jimmy was staring as before at the white beam.—“’Ow
+ d’yer feel now?” he asked.—“Bad,” breathed out Jimmy.
</p>
<p>
Donkin sat down patient and purposeful. Every half-hour the bells spoke to
- one another ringing along the whole length of the ship. Jimmy's
- respiration was so rapid that it couldn't be counted, so faint that it
- couldn't be heard. His eyes were terrified as though he had been looking
+ one another ringing along the whole length of the ship. Jimmy’s
+ respiration was so rapid that it couldn’t be counted, so faint that it
+ couldn’t be heard. His eyes were terrified as though he had been looking
at unspeakable horrors; and by his face one could see that he was thinking
of abominable things. Suddenly with an incredibly strong and heartbreaking
voice he sobbed out:
</p>
<p>
- &ldquo;Overboard!... I!... My God!&rdquo; Donkin writhed a little on the box. He
+ “Overboard!... I!... My God!” Donkin writhed a little on the box. He
looked unwillingly. James Wait was mute. His two long bony hands smoothed
the blanket upwards, as though he had wished to gather it all up under his
chin. A tear, a big solitary tear, escaped from the corner of his eye and,
@@ -4593,8 +4551,8 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
<p>
And Donkin, watching the end of that hateful nigger, felt the anguishing
grasp of a great sorrow on his heart at the thought that he himself, some
- day, would have to go through it all&mdash;just like this&mdash;perhaps!
- His eyes became moist. &ldquo;Poor beggar,&rdquo; he murmured. The night seemed to go
+ day, would have to go through it all—just like this—perhaps!
+ His eyes became moist. “Poor beggar,” he murmured. The night seemed to go
by in a flash; it seemed to him he could hear the irremediable rush of
precious minutes. How long would this blooming affair last? Too long
surely. No luck. He could not restrain himself. He got up and approached
@@ -4603,20 +4561,20 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
Donkin bent over.
</p>
<p>
- &ldquo;Jimmy,&rdquo; he called low. There was no answer, but the rattle stopped.
- &ldquo;D'yer see me?&rdquo; he asked, trembling. Jimmy's chest heaved. Donkin, looking
- away, bent his ear to Jimmy's lips, and heard a sound like the rustle of a
+ “Jimmy,” he called low. There was no answer, but the rattle stopped.
+ “D’yer see me?” he asked, trembling. Jimmy’s chest heaved. Donkin, looking
+ away, bent his ear to Jimmy’s lips, and heard a sound like the rustle of a
single dry leaf driven along the smooth sand of a beach. It shaped itself.
</p>
<p>
- &ldquo;Light... the lamp... and... go,&rdquo; breathed out Wait.
+ “Light... the lamp... and... go,” breathed out Wait.
</p>
<p>
Donkin, instinctively, glanced over his shoulder at the brilliant flame;
then, still looking away, felt under the pillow for a key. He got it at
once and for the next few minutes remained on his knees shakily but
- swiftly busy inside the box. When he got up, his face&mdash;for the first
- time in his life&mdash;had a pink flush&mdash;perhaps of triumph.
+ swiftly busy inside the box. When he got up, his face—for the first
+ time in his life—had a pink flush—perhaps of triumph.
</p>
<p>
He slipped the key under the pillow again, avoiding to glance at Jimmy,
@@ -4625,18 +4583,18 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
he had his nose against it. He clutched the handle cautiously, but at that
moment he received the irresistible impression of something happening
behind his back. He spun round as though he had been tapped on the
- shoulder. He was just in time to see Wait's eyes blaze up and go out at
+ shoulder. He was just in time to see Wait’s eyes blaze up and go out at
once, like two lamps overturned together by a sweeping blow. Something
resembling a scarlet thread hung down his chin out of the corner of his
- lips&mdash;and he had ceased to breathe.
+ lips—and he had ceased to breathe.
</p>
<p>
Donkin closed the door behind him gently but firmly. Sleeping men, huddled
under jackets, made on the lighted deck shapeless dark mounds that had the
appearance of neglected graves. Nothing had been done all through the
- night and he hadn't been missed. He stood motionless and perfectly
+ night and he hadn’t been missed. He stood motionless and perfectly
astounded to find the world outside as he had left it; there was the sea,
- the ship&mdash;sleeping men; and he wondered absurdly at it, as though he
+ the ship—sleeping men; and he wondered absurdly at it, as though he
had expected to find the men dead, familiar things gone for ever: as
though, like a wanderer returning after many years, he had expected to see
bewildering changes. He shuddered a little in the penetrating freshness of
@@ -4648,59 +4606,59 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
the august silence of its might.
</p>
<p>
- Jimmy's death, after all, came as a tremendous surprise. We did not know
+ Jimmy’s death, after all, came as a tremendous surprise. We did not know
till then how much faith we had put in his delusions. We had taken his
chances of life so much at his own valuation that his death, like the
death of an old belief, shook the foundations of our society. A common
bond was gone; the strong, effective and respectable bond of a sentimental
lie. All that day we mooned at our work, with suspicious looks and a
disabused air. In our hearts we thought that in the matter of his
- departure Jimmy had acted in a perverse and unfriendly manner. He didn't
+ departure Jimmy had acted in a perverse and unfriendly manner. He didn’t
back us up, as a shipmate should. In going he took away with himself the
gloomy and solemn shadow in which our folly had posed, with humane
satisfaction, as a tender arbiter of fate. And now we saw it was no such
thing. It was just common foolishness; a silly and ineffectual meddling
- with issues of majestic import&mdash;that is, if Podmore was right.
+ with issues of majestic import—that is, if Podmore was right.
Perhaps he was? Doubt survived Jimmy; and, like a community of banded
criminals disintegrated by a touch of grace, we were profoundly
scandalised with each other. Men spoke unkindly to their best chums.
- Others refused to speak at all. Singleton only was not surprised. &ldquo;Dead&mdash;is
- he? Of course,&rdquo; he said, pointing at the island right abeam: for the calm
- still held the ship spell-bound within sight of Flores. Dead&mdash;of
- course. <i>He</i> wasn't surprised. Here was the land, and there, on the
- fore-hatch and waiting for the sailmaker&mdash;there was that corpse.
+ Others refused to speak at all. Singleton only was not surprised. “Dead—is
+ he? Of course,” he said, pointing at the island right abeam: for the calm
+ still held the ship spell-bound within sight of Flores. Dead—of
+ course. <i>He</i> wasn’t surprised. Here was the land, and there, on the
+ fore-hatch and waiting for the sailmaker—there was that corpse.
Cause and effect. And for the first time that voyage, the old seaman
became quite cheery and garrulous, explaining and illustrating from the
stores of experience how, in sickness, the sight of an island (even a very
small one) is generally more fatal than the view of a continent. But he
- couldn't explain why.
+ couldn’t explain why.
</p>
<p>
- Jimmy was to be buried at five, and it was a long day till then&mdash;a
+ Jimmy was to be buried at five, and it was a long day till then—a
day of mental disquiet and even of physical disturbance. We took no
interest in our work and, very properly, were rebuked for it. This, in our
constant state of hungry irritation, was exasperating. Donkin worked with
his brow bound in a dirty rag, and looked so ghastly that Mr. Baker was
- touched with compassion at the sight of this plucky suffering.&mdash;&ldquo;Ough!
- You, Donkin! Put down your work and go lay-up this watch. You look ill.&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;I
- am bad, sir&mdash;in my 'ead,&rdquo; he said in a subdued voice, and vanished
- speedily. This annoyed many, and they thought the mate &ldquo;bloomin' soft
- to-day.&rdquo; Captain Allistoun could be seen on the poop watching the sky to
+ touched with compassion at the sight of this plucky suffering.—“Ough!
+ You, Donkin! Put down your work and go lay-up this watch. You look ill.”—“I
+ am bad, sir—in my ’ead,” he said in a subdued voice, and vanished
+ speedily. This annoyed many, and they thought the mate “bloomin’ soft
+ to-day.” Captain Allistoun could be seen on the poop watching the sky to
the southwest, and it soon got to be known about the decks that the
barometer had begun to fall in the night, and that a breeze might be
expected before long. This, by a subtle association of ideas, led to
- violent quarrelling as to the exact moment of Jimmy's death. Was it before
- or after &ldquo;that 'ere glass started down?&rdquo; It was impossible to know, and it
+ violent quarrelling as to the exact moment of Jimmy’s death. Was it before
+ or after “that ’ere glass started down?” It was impossible to know, and it
caused much contemptuous growling at one another. All of a sudden there
was a great tumult forward. Pacific Knowles and good-tempered Davis had
come to blows over it. The watch below interfered with spirit, and for ten
minutes there was a noisy scrimmage round the hatch, where, in the
- balancing shade of the sails, Jimmy's body, wrapped up in a white blanket,
+ balancing shade of the sails, Jimmy’s body, wrapped up in a white blanket,
was watched over by the sorrowful Belfast, who, in his desolation,
disdained the fray. When the noise had ceased, and the passions had calmed
into surly silence, he stood up at the head of the swathed body, lifting
- both arms on high, cried with pained indignation:&mdash;&ldquo;You ought to be
- ashamed of yourselves!...&rdquo; We were.
+ both arms on high, cried with pained indignation:—“You ought to be
+ ashamed of yourselves!...” We were.
</p>
<p>
Belfast took his bereavement very hard. He gave proofs of unextinguishable
@@ -4708,28 +4666,28 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
prepare what was left of Jimmy for a solemn surrender to the insatiable
sea. He arranged the weights carefully at the feet: two holystones, an old
anchor-shackle without its pin, some broken links of a worn-out stream
- cable. He arranged them this way, then that. &ldquo;Bless my soul! you aren't
- afraid he will chafe his heel?&rdquo; said the sailmaker, who hated the job. He
+ cable. He arranged them this way, then that. “Bless my soul! you aren’t
+ afraid he will chafe his heel?” said the sailmaker, who hated the job. He
pushed the needle, purring furiously, with his head in a cloud of tobacco
smoke; he turned the flaps over, pulled at the stitches, stretched at the
- canvas.&mdash;&ldquo;Lift his shoulders.... Pull to you a bit.... So&mdash;o&mdash;o.
- Steady.&rdquo; Belfast obeyed, pulled, lifted, overcome with sorrow, dropping
- tears on the tarred twine.&mdash;. &ldquo;Don't you drag the canvas too taut
- over his poor face, Sails,&rdquo; he entreated, tearfully.&mdash;&ldquo;What are you
- fashing yourself for? He will be comfortable enough,&rdquo; assured the
+ canvas.—“Lift his shoulders.... Pull to you a bit.... So—o—o.
+ Steady.” Belfast obeyed, pulled, lifted, overcome with sorrow, dropping
+ tears on the tarred twine.—. “Don’t you drag the canvas too taut
+ over his poor face, Sails,” he entreated, tearfully.—“What are you
+ fashing yourself for? He will be comfortable enough,” assured the
sailmaker, cutting the thread after the last stitch, which came about the
- middle of Jimmy's forehead. He rolled up the remaining canvas, put away
- the needles. &ldquo;What makes you take on so?&rdquo; he asked. Belfast looked down at
- the long package of grey sailcloth.&mdash;&ldquo;I pulled him out,&rdquo; he
- whispered, &ldquo;and he did not want to go. If I had sat up with him last night
- he would have kept alive for me... but something made me tired.&rdquo; The
- sailmaker took vigorous draws at his pipe and mumbled:&mdash;&ldquo;When I...
+ middle of Jimmy’s forehead. He rolled up the remaining canvas, put away
+ the needles. “What makes you take on so?” he asked. Belfast looked down at
+ the long package of grey sailcloth.—“I pulled him out,” he
+ whispered, “and he did not want to go. If I had sat up with him last night
+ he would have kept alive for me... but something made me tired.” The
+ sailmaker took vigorous draws at his pipe and mumbled:—“When I...
West India Station... In the <i>Blanche</i> frigate... Yellow Jack...
- sewed in twenty men a week... Portsmouth&mdash;Devonport men&mdash;townies&mdash;knew
- their fathers, mothers, sisters&mdash;the whole boiling of 'em. Thought
- nothing of it. And these niggers like this one&mdash;you don't know where
- it comes from. Got nobody. No use to nobody. Who will miss him?&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;I
- do&mdash;I pulled him out,&rdquo; mourned Belfast dismally.
+ sewed in twenty men a week... Portsmouth—Devonport men—townies—knew
+ their fathers, mothers, sisters—the whole boiling of ’em. Thought
+ nothing of it. And these niggers like this one—you don’t know where
+ it comes from. Got nobody. No use to nobody. Who will miss him?”—“I
+ do—I pulled him out,” mourned Belfast dismally.
</p>
<p>
On two planks nailed together and apparently resigned and still under the
@@ -4743,7 +4701,7 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
port, as if impatient to get at our Jimmy. Every one was there but Donkin,
who was too ill to come; the Captain and Mr. Creighton stood bareheaded on
the break of the poop; Mr. Baker, directed by the master, who had said to
- him gravely:&mdash;&ldquo;You know more about the prayer book than I do,&rdquo; came
+ him gravely:—“You know more about the prayer book than I do,” came
out of the cabin door quickly and a little embarrassed. All the caps went
off. He began to read in a low tone, and with his usual harmlessly
menacing utterance, as though he had been for the last time reproving
@@ -4759,51 +4717,51 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
</p>
<p>
Two men made ready and waited for those words that send so many of our
- brothers to their last plunge. Mr. Baker began the passage. &ldquo;Stand by,&rdquo;
- muttered the boatswain. Mr. Baker read out: &ldquo;To the deep,&rdquo; and paused. The
+ brothers to their last plunge. Mr. Baker began the passage. “Stand by,”
+ muttered the boatswain. Mr. Baker read out: “To the deep,” and paused. The
men lifted the inboard end of the planks, the boatswain snatched off the
- Union Jack, and James Wait did not move.&mdash;&ldquo;Higher,&rdquo; muttered the
+ Union Jack, and James Wait did not move.—“Higher,” muttered the
boatswain angrily. All the heads were raised; every man stirred uneasily,
but James Wait gave no sign of going. In death and swathed up for all
eternity, he yet seemed to cling to the ship with the grip of an undying
- fear. &ldquo;Higher! Lift!&rdquo; whispered the boatswain, fiercely.&mdash;&ldquo;He won't
- go,&rdquo; stammered one of the men, shakily, and both appeared ready to drop
+ fear. “Higher! Lift!” whispered the boatswain, fiercely.—“He won’t
+ go,” stammered one of the men, shakily, and both appeared ready to drop
everything. Mr. Baker waited, burying his face in the book, and shuffling
his feet nervously. All the men looked profoundly disturbed; from their
- midst a faint humming noise spread out&mdash;growing louder.... &ldquo;Jimmy!&rdquo;
+ midst a faint humming noise spread out—growing louder.... “Jimmy!”
cried Belfast in a wailing tone, and there was a second of shuddering
dismay.
</p>
<p>
- &ldquo;Jimmy, be a man!&rdquo; he shrieked, passionately. Every mouth was wide open,
+ “Jimmy, be a man!” he shrieked, passionately. Every mouth was wide open,
not an eyelid winked. He stared wildly, twitching all over; he bent his
- body forward like a man peering at an horror. &ldquo;Go!&rdquo; he shouted, and sprang
- out of the crowd with his arm extended. &ldquo;Go, Jimmy!&mdash;Jimmy, go! Go!&rdquo;
+ body forward like a man peering at an horror. “Go!” he shouted, and sprang
+ out of the crowd with his arm extended. “Go, Jimmy!—Jimmy, go! Go!”
His fingers touched the head of the body, and the grey package started
reluctantly to whizz off the lifted planks all at once, with the
suddenness of a flash of lightning. The crowd stepped forward like one
- man; a deep Ah&mdash;h&mdash;h! came out vibrating from the broad chests.
+ man; a deep Ah—h—h! came out vibrating from the broad chests.
The ship rolled as if relieved of an unfair burden; the sails flapped.
Belfast, supported by Archie, gasped hysterically; and Charley, who
- anxious to see Jimmy's last dive, leaped headlong on the rail, was too
+ anxious to see Jimmy’s last dive, leaped headlong on the rail, was too
late to see anything but the faint circle of a vanishing ripple.
</p>
<p>
Mr. Baker, perspiring abundantly, read out the last prayer in a deep
- rumour of excited men and fluttering sails. &ldquo;Amen!&rdquo; he said in an unsteady
+ rumour of excited men and fluttering sails. “Amen!” he said in an unsteady
growl, and closed the book.
</p>
<p>
- &ldquo;Square the yards!&rdquo; thundered a voice above his head. All hands gave a
+ “Square the yards!” thundered a voice above his head. All hands gave a
jump; one or two dropped their caps; Mr. Baker looked up surprised. The
master, standing on the break of the poop, pointed to the westward.
- &ldquo;Breeze coming,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;Man the weather braces.&rdquo; Mr. Baker crammed the
- book hurriedly into his pocket. &ldquo;Forward, there&mdash;let go the
- foretack!&rdquo; he hailed joyfully, bareheaded and brisk; &ldquo;Square the foreyard,
- you port-watch!&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;Fair wind&mdash;fair wind,&rdquo; muttered the men going
- to the braces.&mdash;&ldquo;What did I tell you?&rdquo; mumbled old Singleton,
- flinging down coil after coil with hasty energy; &ldquo;I knowed it&mdash;he's
- gone, and here it comes.&rdquo;
+ “Breeze coming,” he said, “Man the weather braces.” Mr. Baker crammed the
+ book hurriedly into his pocket. “Forward, there—let go the
+ foretack!” he hailed joyfully, bareheaded and brisk; “Square the foreyard,
+ you port-watch!”—“Fair wind—fair wind,” muttered the men going
+ to the braces.—“What did I tell you?” mumbled old Singleton,
+ flinging down coil after coil with hasty energy; “I knowed it—he’s
+ gone, and here it comes.”
</p>
<p>
It came with the sound of a lofty and powerful sigh. The sails filled, the
@@ -4812,30 +4770,30 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
</p>
<p>
That night, while the ship rushed foaming to the Northward before a
- freshening gale, the boatswain unbosomed himself to the petty officers'
- berth:&mdash;&ldquo;The chap was nothing but trouble,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;from the moment
- he came aboard&mdash;d'ye remember&mdash;that night in Bombay? Been
- bullying all that softy crowd&mdash;cheeked the old man&mdash;we had to go
- fooling all over a half-drowned ship to save him. Dam' nigh a mutiny all
- for him&mdash;and now the mate abused me like a pickpocket for forgetting
+ freshening gale, the boatswain unbosomed himself to the petty officers’
+ berth:—“The chap was nothing but trouble,” he said, “from the moment
+ he came aboard—d’ye remember—that night in Bombay? Been
+ bullying all that softy crowd—cheeked the old man—we had to go
+ fooling all over a half-drowned ship to save him. Dam’ nigh a mutiny all
+ for him—and now the mate abused me like a pickpocket for forgetting
to dab a lump of grease on them planks. So I did, but you ought to have
- known better, too, than to leave a nail sticking up&mdash;hey, Chips?&rdquo;
+ known better, too, than to leave a nail sticking up—hey, Chips?”
</p>
<p>
- &ldquo;And you ought to have known better than to chuck all my tools overboard
- for 'im, like a skeary greenhorn,&rdquo; retorted the morose carpenter. &ldquo;Well&mdash;he's
- gone after 'em now,&rdquo; he added in an unforgiving tone.&mdash;&ldquo;On the China
- Station, I remember once, the Admiral he says to me...&rdquo; began the
+ “And you ought to have known better than to chuck all my tools overboard
+ for ’im, like a skeary greenhorn,” retorted the morose carpenter. “Well—he’s
+ gone after ’em now,” he added in an unforgiving tone.—“On the China
+ Station, I remember once, the Admiral he says to me...” began the
sailmaker.
</p>
- <p>
+ <p class="p2">
A week afterwards the <i>Narcissus</i> entered the chops of the Channel.
</p>
<p>
Under white wings she skimmed low over the blue sea like a great tired
bird speeding to its nest. The clouds raced with her mastheads; they rose
astern enormous and white, soared to the zenith, flew past, and falling
- down the wide curve of the sky, seemed to dash headlong into the sea&mdash;the
+ down the wide curve of the sky, seemed to dash headlong into the sea—the
clouds swifter than the ship, more free, but without a home. The coast to
welcome her stepped out of space into the sunshine. The lofty headlands
trod masterfully into the sea; the wide bays smiled in the light; the
@@ -4846,7 +4804,7 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
glittered like a blue mantle shot with gold and starred by the silver of
the capping seas. The <i>Narcissus</i> rushed past the headlands and the
bays. Outward-bound vessels crossed her track, lying over, and with their
- masts stripped for a slogging fight with the hard sou'wester. And,
+ masts stripped for a slogging fight with the hard sou’wester. And,
inshore, a string of smoking steamboats waddled, hugging the coast, like
migrating and amphibious monsters, distrustful of the restless waves.
</p>
@@ -4858,8 +4816,8 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
dimensions. Below its steady glow, the coast, stretching away straight and
black, resembled the high side of an indestructible craft riding
motionless upon the immortal and unresting sea. The dark land lay alone in
- the midst of waters, like a mighty ship bestarred with vigilant lights&mdash;a
- ship carrying the burden of millions of lives&mdash;a ship freighted with
+ the midst of waters, like a mighty ship bestarred with vigilant lights—a
+ ship carrying the burden of millions of lives—a ship freighted with
dross and with jewels, with gold and with steel. She towered up immense
and strong, guarding priceless traditions and untold suffering, sheltering
glorious memories and base forgetfulness, ignoble virtues and splendid
@@ -4880,7 +4838,7 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
low, and, dropping in her wake, tugged at their chains like fierce
watchdogs. The reach narrowed; from both sides the land approached the
ship. She went steadily up the river. On the riverside slopes the houses
- appeared in groups&mdash;seemed to stream down the declivities at a run to
+ appeared in groups—seemed to stream down the declivities at a run to
see her pass, and, checked by the mud of the foreshore, crowded on the
banks. Further on, the tall factory chimneys appeared in insolent bands
and watched her go by, like a straggling crowd of slim giants, swaggering
@@ -4890,12 +4848,12 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
sea.
</p>
<p>
- A low cloud hung before her&mdash;a great opalescent and tremulous cloud,
+ A low cloud hung before her—a great opalescent and tremulous cloud,
that seemed to rise from the steaming brows of millions of men. Long
drifts of smoky vapours soiled it with livid trails; it throbbed to the
beat of millions of hearts, and from it came an immense and lamentable
- murmur&mdash;the murmur of millions of lips praying, cursing, sighing,
- jeering&mdash;the undying murmur of folly, regret, and hope exhaled by the
+ murmur—the murmur of millions of lips praying, cursing, sighing,
+ jeering—the undying murmur of folly, regret, and hope exhaled by the
crowds of the anxious earth. The <i>Narcissus</i> entered the cloud; the
shadows deepened; on all sides there was the clang of iron, the sound of
mighty blows, shrieks, yells. Black barges drifted stealthily on the murky
@@ -4912,17 +4870,17 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
bridge: rough heavy men in caps; sallow-faced men in high hats; two
bareheaded women; ragged children, fascinated, and with wide eyes. A cart
coming at a jerky trot pulled up sharply. One of the women screamed at the
- silent ship&mdash;&ldquo;Hallo, Jack!&rdquo; without looking at any one in particular,
- and all hands looked at her from the forecastle head.&mdash;&ldquo;Stand clear!
- Stand clear of that rope!&rdquo; cried the dockmen, bending over stone posts.
- The crowd murmured, stamped where they stood.&mdash;&ldquo;Let go your
- quarter-checks! Let go!&rdquo; sang out a ruddy-faced old man on the quay. The
+ silent ship—“Hallo, Jack!” without looking at any one in particular,
+ and all hands looked at her from the forecastle head.—“Stand clear!
+ Stand clear of that rope!” cried the dockmen, bending over stone posts.
+ The crowd murmured, stamped where they stood.—“Let go your
+ quarter-checks! Let go!” sang out a ruddy-faced old man on the quay. The
ropes splashed heavily falling in the water, and the <i>Narcissus</i>
entered the dock.
</p>
<p>
The stony shores ran away right and left in straight lines, enclosing a
- sombre and rectangular pool. Brick walls rose high above the water!&mdash;soulless
+ sombre and rectangular pool. Brick walls rose high above the water—soulless
walls, staring through hundreds of windows as troubled and dull as the
eyes of over-fed brutes. At their base monstrous iron cranes crouched,
with chains hanging from their long necks, balancing cruel-looking hooks
@@ -4939,68 +4897,68 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
</p>
<p>
A toff in a black coat and high hat scrambled with agility, came up to the
- second mate, shook hands, and said:&mdash;&ldquo;Hallo, Herbert.&rdquo; It was his
+ second mate, shook hands, and said:—“Hallo, Herbert.” It was his
brother. A lady appeared suddenly. A real lady, in a black dress and with
a parasol. She looked extremely elegant in the midst of us, and as strange
as if she had fallen there from the sky. Mr. Baker touched his cap to her.
- It was the master's wife. And very soon the Captain, dressed very smartly
- and in a white shirt, went with her over the side. We didn't recognise him
- at all till, turning on the quay, he called to Mr. Baker:&mdash;&ldquo;Don't
- forget to wind up the chronometers to-morrow morning.&rdquo; An underhand lot of
+ It was the master’s wife. And very soon the Captain, dressed very smartly
+ and in a white shirt, went with her over the side. We didn’t recognise him
+ at all till, turning on the quay, he called to Mr. Baker:—“Don’t
+ forget to wind up the chronometers to-morrow morning.” An underhand lot of
seedy-looking chaps with shifty eyes wandered in and out of the forecastle
- looking for a job&mdash;they said.&mdash;&ldquo;More likely for something to
- steal,&rdquo; commented Knowles, cheerfully. Poor beggars. Who cared? Weren't we
+ looking for a job—they said.—“More likely for something to
+ steal,” commented Knowles, cheerfully. Poor beggars. Who cared? Weren’t we
home! But Mr. Baker went for one of them who had given him some cheek, and
- we were delighted. Everything was delightful.&mdash;&ldquo;I've finished aft,
- sir,&rdquo; called out Mr. Creighton.&mdash;&ldquo;No water in the well, sir,&rdquo;
+ we were delighted. Everything was delightful.—“I’ve finished aft,
+ sir,” called out Mr. Creighton.—“No water in the well, sir,”
reported for the last time the carpenter, sounding-rod in hand. Mr. Baker
glanced along the decks at the expectant group of sailors, glanced aloft
- at the yards.&mdash;&ldquo;Ough! That will do, men,&rdquo; he grunted. The group broke
+ at the yards.—“Ough! That will do, men,” he grunted. The group broke
up. The voyage was ended.
</p>
<p>
Rolled-up beds went flying over the rail; lashed chests went sliding down
- the gangway&mdash;mighty few of both at that. &ldquo;The rest is having a cruise
- off the Cape,&rdquo; explained Knowles enigmatically to a dock-loafer with whom
+ the gangway—mighty few of both at that. “The rest is having a cruise
+ off the Cape,” explained Knowles enigmatically to a dock-loafer with whom
he had struck a sudden friendship. Men ran, calling to one another,
- hailing utter strangers to &ldquo;lend a hand with the dunnage,&rdquo; then with
- sudden decorum approached the mate to shake hands before going ashore.&mdash;&ldquo;Good-bye,
- sir,&rdquo; they repeated in various tones. Mr. Baker grasped hard palms,
- grunted in a friendly manner at every one, his eyes twinkled.&mdash;&ldquo;Take
- care of your money, Knowles. Ough! Soon get a nice wife if you do.&rdquo; The
- lame man was delighted.&mdash;&ldquo;Good-bye, sir,&rdquo; said Belfast, with emotion,
- wringing the mate's hand, and looked up with swimming eyes. &ldquo;I thought I
- would take 'im ashore with me,&rdquo; he went on, plaintively. Mr. Baker did not
- understand, but said kindly:&mdash;&ldquo;Take care of yourself, Craik,&rdquo; and the
+ hailing utter strangers to “lend a hand with the dunnage,” then with
+ sudden decorum approached the mate to shake hands before going ashore.—“Good-bye,
+ sir,” they repeated in various tones. Mr. Baker grasped hard palms,
+ grunted in a friendly manner at every one, his eyes twinkled.—“Take
+ care of your money, Knowles. Ough! Soon get a nice wife if you do.” The
+ lame man was delighted.—“Good-bye, sir,” said Belfast, with emotion,
+ wringing the mate’s hand, and looked up with swimming eyes. “I thought I
+ would take ’im ashore with me,” he went on, plaintively. Mr. Baker did not
+ understand, but said kindly:—“Take care of yourself, Craik,” and the
bereaved Belfast went over the rail mourning and alone.
</p>
<p>
Mr. Baker, in the sudden peace of the ship, moved about solitary and
- grunting, trying door-handles, peering into dark places, never done&mdash;a
+ grunting, trying door-handles, peering into dark places, never done—a
model chief mate! No one waited for him ashore. Mother dead; father and
two brothers, Yarmouth fishermen, drowned together on the Dogger Bank;
sister married and unfriendly. Quite a lady. Married to the leading tailor
of a little town, and its leading politician, who did not think his sailor
brother-in-law quite respectable enough for him. Quite a lady, quite a
- lady, he thought, sitting down for a moment's rest on the quarter-hatch.
+ lady, he thought, sitting down for a moment’s rest on the quarter-hatch.
Time enough to go ashore and get a bite and sup, and a bed somewhere. He
- didn't like to part with a ship. No one to think about then. The darkness
+ didn’t like to part with a ship. No one to think about then. The darkness
of a misty evening fell, cold and damp, upon the deserted deck; and Mr.
Baker sat smoking, thinking of all the successive ships to whom through
- many long years he had given the best of a seaman's care. And never a
- command in sight. Not once!&mdash;&ldquo;I haven't somehow the cut of a skipper
- about me,&rdquo; he meditated, placidly, while the shipkeeper (who had taken
+ many long years he had given the best of a seaman’s care. And never a
+ command in sight. Not once!—“I haven’t somehow the cut of a skipper
+ about me,” he meditated, placidly, while the shipkeeper (who had taken
possession of the galley), a wizened old man with bleared eyes, cursed him
- in whispers for &ldquo;hanging about so.&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;Now, Creighton,&rdquo; he pursued the
- unenvious train of thought, &ldquo;quite a gentleman... swell friends... will
- get on. Fine young fellow... a little more experience.&rdquo; He got up and
- shook himself. &ldquo;I'll be back first thing to-morrow morning for the
- hatches. Don't you let them touch anything before I come, shipkeeper,&rdquo; he
- called out. Then, at last, he also went ashore&mdash;a model chief mate!
+ in whispers for “hanging about so.”—“Now, Creighton,” he pursued the
+ unenvious train of thought, “quite a gentleman... swell friends... will
+ get on. Fine young fellow... a little more experience.” He got up and
+ shook himself. “I’ll be back first thing to-morrow morning for the
+ hatches. Don’t you let them touch anything before I come, shipkeeper,” he
+ called out. Then, at last, he also went ashore—a model chief mate!
</p>
<p>
The men scattered by the dissolving contact of the land came together once
- more in the shipping office.&mdash;-&ldquo;The <i>Narcissus</i> pays off,&rdquo;
+ more in the shipping office.—-“The <i>Narcissus</i> pays off,”
shouted outside a glazed door a brass-bound old fellow with a crown and
the capitals B. T. on his cap. A lot trooped in at once but many were
late. The room was large, white-washed, and bare; a counter surmounted by
@@ -5015,7 +4973,7 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
smart jackets that looked as if they had been shaped with an axe, glossy
trousers that seemed made of crumpled sheet-iron, collarless flannel
shirts, shiny new boots. They tapped on shoulders, button-holed one
- another, asked: &ldquo;Where did you sleep last night?&rdquo; whispered gaily,
+ another, asked: “Where did you sleep last night?” whispered gaily,
slapped their thighs with bursts of subdued laughter. Most had clean,
radiant faces; only one or two turned up dishevelled and sad; the
two young Norwegians looked tidy, meek, and altogether of a promising
@@ -5027,16 +4985,16 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
<p>
One by one they came up to the pay-table to get the wages of their
glorious and obscure toil. They swept the money with care into broad
- palms, rammed it trustfully into trousers' pockets, or, turning their
+ palms, rammed it trustfully into trousers’ pockets, or, turning their
backs on the table, reckoned with difficulty in the hollow of their stiff
- hands.&mdash;&ldquo;Money right? Sign the release. There&mdash;there,&rdquo; repeated
- the clerk, impatiently. &ldquo;How stupid those sailors are!&rdquo; he thought.
- Singleton came up, venerable&mdash;and uncertain as to daylight; brown
+ hands.—“Money right? Sign the release. There—there,” repeated
+ the clerk, impatiently. “How stupid those sailors are!” he thought.
+ Singleton came up, venerable—and uncertain as to daylight; brown
drops of tobacco juice hung in his white beard; his hands, that never
hesitated in the great light of the open sea, could hardly find the small
- pile of gold in the profound darkness of the shore. &ldquo;Can't write?&rdquo; said
- the clerk, shocked. &ldquo;Make a mark, then.&rdquo; Singleton painfully sketched in a
- heavy cross, blotted the page. &ldquo;What a disgusting old brute,&rdquo; muttered the
+ pile of gold in the profound darkness of the shore. “Can’t write?” said
+ the clerk, shocked. “Make a mark, then.” Singleton painfully sketched in a
+ heavy cross, blotted the page. “What a disgusting old brute,” muttered the
clerk. Somebody opened the door for him, and the patriarchal seaman passed
through unsteadily, without as much as a glance at any of us.
</p>
@@ -5045,73 +5003,73 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
as though he had already luffed up through a public-house or two, gave
signs of emotion and wanted to speak to the Captain privately. The master
was surprised. They spoke through the wires, and we could hear the Captain
- saying:&mdash;&ldquo;I've given it up to the Board of Trade.&rdquo; &ldquo;I should 've
- liked to get something of his,&rdquo; mumbled Belfast. &ldquo;But you can't, my man.
- It's given up, locked and sealed, to the Marine Office,&rdquo; expostulated the
+ saying:—“I’ve given it up to the Board of Trade.” “I should ’ve
+ liked to get something of his,” mumbled Belfast. “But you can’t, my man.
+ It’s given up, locked and sealed, to the Marine Office,” expostulated the
master; and Belfast stood back, with drooping mouth and troubled eyes. In
a pause of the business we heard the master and the clerk talking. We
- caught: &ldquo;James Wait&mdash;deceased&mdash;found no papers of any kind&mdash;no
- relations&mdash;no trace&mdash;the Office must hold his wages then.&rdquo;
+ caught: “James Wait—deceased—found no papers of any kind—no
+ relations—no trace—the Office must hold his wages then.”
Donkin entered. He seemed out of breath, was grave, full of business. He
went straight to the desk, talked with animation to the clerk, who thought
- him an intelligent man. They discussed the account, dropping h's against
- one another as if for a wager&mdash;very friendly. Captain Allistoun paid.
- &ldquo;I give you a bad discharge,&rdquo; he said, quietly. Donkin raised his voice:&mdash;&ldquo;I
- don't want your bloomin' discharge&mdash;keep it. I'm goin' ter 'ave a job
- ashore.&rdquo; He turned to us. &ldquo;No more bloomin' sea fur me,&rdquo; he said, aloud.
+ him an intelligent man. They discussed the account, dropping h’s against
+ one another as if for a wager—very friendly. Captain Allistoun paid.
+ “I give you a bad discharge,” he said, quietly. Donkin raised his voice:—“I
+ don’t want your bloomin’ discharge—keep it. I’m goin’ ter ’ave a job
+ ashore.” He turned to us. “No more bloomin’ sea fur me,” he said, aloud.
All looked at him. He had better clothes, had an easy air, appeared more
at home than any of us; he stared with assurance, enjoying the effect of
- his declaration. &ldquo;Yuss. I 'ave friends well off. That's more'n you got.
- But I am a man. Yer shipmates for all that. Who's comin fur a drink?&rdquo;
+ his declaration. “Yuss. I ’ave friends well off. That’s more’n you got.
+ But I am a man. Yer shipmates for all that. Who’s comin fur a drink?”
</p>
<p>
No one moved. There was a silence; a silence of blank faces and stony
looks. He waited a moment, smiled bitterly, and went to the door. There he
- faced round once more. &ldquo;You won't? You bloomin' lot of yrpocrits. No? What
- 'ave I done to yer? Did I bully yer? Did I 'urt yer? Did I?... You won't
- drink?... No!... Then may ye die of thirst, every mother's son of yer! Not
- one of yer 'as the sperrit of a bug. Ye're the scum of the world. Work and
- starve!&rdquo;
+ faced round once more. “You won’t? You bloomin’ lot of yrpocrits. No? What
+ ’ave I done to yer? Did I bully yer? Did I ’urt yer? Did I?... You won’t
+ drink?... No!... Then may ye die of thirst, every mother’s son of yer! Not
+ one of yer ’as the sperrit of a bug. Ye’re the scum of the world. Work and
+ starve!”
</p>
<p>
He went out, and slammed the door with such violence that the old Board of
Trade bird nearly fell off his perch.
</p>
<p>
- &ldquo;He's mad,&rdquo; declared Archie. &ldquo;No! No! He's drunk,&rdquo; insisted Belfast,
+ “He’s mad,” declared Archie. “No! No! He’s drunk,” insisted Belfast,
lurching about, and in a maudlin tone. Captain Allistoun sat smiling
thoughtfully at the cleared pay-table.
</p>
- <p>
+ <p class="p2">
Outside, on Tower Hill, they blinked, hesitated clumsily, as if blinded by
the strange quality of the hazy light, as if discomposed by the view of so
many men; and they who could hear one another in the howl of gales seemed
- deafened and distracted by the dull roar of the busy earth.&mdash;&ldquo;To the
- Black Horse! To the Black Horse!&rdquo; cried some. &ldquo;Let us have a drink
- together before we part.&rdquo; They crossed the road, clinging to one another.
+ deafened and distracted by the dull roar of the busy earth.—“To the
+ Black Horse! To the Black Horse!” cried some. “Let us have a drink
+ together before we part.” They crossed the road, clinging to one another.
Only Charley and Belfast wandered off alone. As I came up I saw a
red-faced, blowsy woman, in a grey shawl, and with dusty, fluffy hair,
- fall on Charley's neck. It was his mother. She slobbered over him:&mdash;&ldquo;O,
- my boy! My boy!&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;Leggo of me,&rdquo; said Charley, &ldquo;Leggo, mother!&rdquo; I was
+ fall on Charley’s neck. It was his mother. She slobbered over him:—“O,
+ my boy! My boy!”—“Leggo of me,” said Charley, “Leggo, mother!” I was
passing him at the time, and over the untidy head of the blubbering woman
he gave me a humorous smile and a glance ironic, courageous, and profound,
that seemed to put all my knowledge of life to shame. I nodded and passed
- on, but heard him say again, good-naturedly:&mdash;&ldquo;If you leggo of me
- this minyt&mdash;ye shall 'ave a bob for a drink out of my pay.&rdquo; In the
+ on, but heard him say again, good-naturedly:—“If you leggo of me
+ this minyt—ye shall ’ave a bob for a drink out of my pay.” In the
next few steps I came upon Belfast. He caught my arm with tremulous
- enthusiasm.&mdash;&ldquo;I couldn't go wi' 'em,&rdquo; he stammered, indicating by a
- nod our noisy crowd, that drifted slowly along the other sidewalk. &ldquo;When I
+ enthusiasm.—“I couldn’t go wi’ ’em,” he stammered, indicating by a
+ nod our noisy crowd, that drifted slowly along the other sidewalk. “When I
think of Jimmy... Poor Jim! When I think of him I have no heart for drink.
- You were his chum, too... but I pulled him out... didn't I? Short wool he
- had.... Yes. And I stole the blooming pie.... He wouldn't go.... He
- wouldn't go for nobody.&rdquo; He burst into tears. &ldquo;I never touched him&mdash;never&mdash;never!&rdquo;
- he sobbed. &ldquo;He went for me like... like ... a lamb.&rdquo;
+ You were his chum, too... but I pulled him out... didn’t I? Short wool he
+ had.... Yes. And I stole the blooming pie.... He wouldn’t go.... He
+ wouldn’t go for nobody.” He burst into tears. “I never touched him—never—never!”
+ he sobbed. “He went for me like... like ... a lamb.”
</p>
<p>
- I disengaged myself gently. Belfast's crying fits generally ended in a
- fight with some one, and I wasn't anxious to stand the brunt of his
+ I disengaged myself gently. Belfast’s crying fits generally ended in a
+ fight with some one, and I wasn’t anxious to stand the brunt of his
inconsolable sorrow. Moreover, two bulky policemen stood near by, looking
- at us with a disapproving and incorruptible gaze.&mdash;&ldquo;So long!&rdquo; I said,
+ at us with a disapproving and incorruptible gaze.—“So long!” I said,
and went on my way.
</p>
<p>
@@ -5124,7 +5082,7 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
saw them discoursing, with jovial eyes and clumsy gestures, while the sea
of life thundered into their ears ceaseless and unheeded. And swaying
about there on the white stones, surrounded by the hurry and clamour of
- men, they appeared to be creatures of another kind&mdash;lost, alone,
+ men, they appeared to be creatures of another kind—lost, alone,
forgetful, and doomed; they were like castaways, like reckless and joyous
castaways, like mad castaways making merry in the storm and upon an
insecure ledge of a treacherous rock. The roar of the town resembled the
@@ -5147,7 +5105,7 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
I never saw them again. The sea took some, the steamers took others, the
graveyards of the earth will account for the rest. Singleton has no doubt
taken with him the long record of his faithful work into the peaceful
- depths of an hospitable sea. And Donkin, who never did a decent day's work
+ depths of an hospitable sea. And Donkin, who never did a decent day’s work
in his life, no doubt earns his living by discoursing with filthy
eloquence upon the right of labour to live. So be it! Let the earth and
the sea each have its own.
@@ -5156,8 +5114,8 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
A gone shipmate, like any other man, is gone for ever; and I never met one
of them again. But at times the spring-flood of memory sets with force up
the dark River of the Nine Bends. Then on the waters of the forlorn stream
- drifts a ship&mdash;a shadowy ship manned by a crew of Shades. They pass
- and make a sign, in a shadowy hail. Haven't we, together and upon the
+ drifts a ship—a shadowy ship manned by a crew of Shades. They pass
+ and make a sign, in a shadowy hail. Haven’t we, together and upon the
immortal sea, wrung out a meaning from our sinful lives? Good-bye,
brothers! You were a good crowd. As good a crowd as ever fisted with wild
cries the beating canvas of a heavy foresail; or tossing aloft, invisible
@@ -5166,378 +5124,6 @@ Mr. Baker read on steadily:&mdash;&ldquo;Hansen&mdash;Campbell&mdash;Smith&mdash
<p>
THE END
</p>
- <div style="height: 6em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
-<pre xml:space="preserve">
-
-
-
-
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