But knowing that seeing was limited enough, he put his hand to his ear and stood leaning over the side, listening for a full ten minutes, before, with an impatient ejaculation, he turned to speak to the informer, who was not aft but probably forward among the men.
He walked forward.
“Where’s that man?” he whispered to the first sailor he encountered, who, like the rest, was eagerly watching seaward.
“Went aft, sir.”
The little officer went aft, but the fisherman was not there, and he passed back along the starboard side, going right forward among the crew.
“Where is the fisherman?” he said.
“Went aft, sir,” came from every one he encountered; and, feeling annoyed at the trouble it gave him, Mr Brough went aft again, to notice now that there was no man at the helm.
He walked forward again.
“Here!” he cried in an angry whisper, “who was at the helm?”
“I, your honour,” said a voice.