"So a watch is set in the cabin, I perceive," the man holding the candle said with a quiet, ironical smile.
By mien and speech Phil knew upon the instant that they were Englishmen and it took no great discernment to see that they were gentlemen and men of authority.
They pressed closer about him.
"Whence and for what have you come?" he repeated.
They made no reply but stood in the brown light, holding high their candle and looking him hard in the face.
Again he heard the boat bumping against the side of the ship and now the murmur of the wind aloft. Far away he heard a faint sound of calling which was growing constantly louder. The three exchanged glances and whispering to one another, moved toward the gallery; but as they started to go, the one turned back and held the candle to Phil's face.
"Of this be assured, my fine fellow," said he, "I shall know you well if ever I see you again."
Phil was of a mind to call after them, to pursue them, to flee with them; but as it is easy to understand, there were strong reasons for his staying where he was, and there had been little welcome in their faces. He stood for a moment by the table and noticed that the sky in the mirror had turned from a clear olive to a deep gray and that the lines of the door and the gallery rail had lost their sharp decisiveness and had blurred into the dark background. Then he darted out of the cabin through the steerage and called sharply, "Jacob! Jacob!"
The men watching at the guns stirred in suppressed excitement and turned from whispering uneasily.
"There are strange sounds yonder, boatswain," called one.