She said no more, but stood with white face and starting eyes, listening, for at that moment there was the sound of struggling overhead, a hoarse shriek as of a man in mortal agony, a heavy fall—a rustling noise; and then, just by the little round window of their cabin, a heavy splash.
Story 1--Chapter XXVIII.
A Race for Life.
That had been a tremendously hot day, but in the excitement of the silver-seeking the weather had been unnoticed; but as the night came on it seemed almost suffocating to those who were not moved by such passionate emotions as Dutch Pugh and his wife.
Sam Oakum had been till quite late standing chewing his tobacco, as he looked over the side watching the golden green water that heaved gently against the stern of the vessel, for, moored as she was, she did not swing with the tide, and after a time he went and joined ’Pollo, whose galley was, after all, no hotter than the rest of the ship.
From where they sat talking in a low voice, the encounter between Lauré and Hester had not been heard, and when from time to time Oakum thrust out his head and took a look round to see the faint glow from the cabin skylight, all was as still as death, and he drew his head in again and went on talking.
“Don’t gawp like that, ’Pollo,” said Oakum at last, as his companion yawned in a fashion that was quite shark-like.
“I berry sleep and tired, Mass’ Oakum, sah; I had berry hot day.”