The man grinned and came and helped me bear it away to the cook, after which I put away the tackle, hanging it to dry before giving it back to its owner.
Chapter Nine.
All at once, just as our life at sea was as calm and peaceful as could be, Captain Berriman grew quite queer in his manner. He was pleasant enough to the passengers, and I never had an unkind word from him, but he was most tyrannical to a number of the men, ordering them about, making them set fresh sail, take it down, and altering his orders half-a-dozen times over, till the men used to go about muttering, and more than once I heard words spoken about him that were startling, to say the least.
One evening when it was very dark, the moon not having risen, I was looking over the side and down into the calm, black water which was as full of tiny specks of light as the sky above me, and every now and then these little glittering points beneath the surface would be driven here and there as if a fish had swum sharply by. It was all so beautiful, to watch point after point gliding about lower and lower till all was jet black, that I had forgotten everything, heard nothing, till all at once just behind me I heard Mr Brymer say—
“Of course it is very unpleasant for me. I’m afraid the men will not stand much more of it. Do you think he is going mad?”
There was a pause for a few moments, and then Mr Frewen said—
“No; I feel sure that it is only a temporary trouble due to the heat and over-anxiety about the ship.”
“But he is getting worse; and twice over to-day I felt as if I ought to shut him up in his cabin and take charge altogether.”