The deckhand named Jim returned and gave Evans a flat gray book.
“Here’s the book,” said Evans.
“Oh, yes.” The Chaplain stood up and Evans handed him the book. The Chaplain thumbed through the pages muttering, “Fine, fine,” to himself. “A very nice Burial,” he announced at last. “One of the best. I suggest you call the men together.”
Evans nodded at Bervick and Bervick went into the galley. The Chaplain took his place at the head of one of the tables. Evans stood beside him. Hodges joined Martin and the Major at the far end of the salon.
The crew wandered in. There was a low growl of voices as they talked among themselves. Bervick assembled them in front of the Chaplain. Then he stood beside Evans.
“Everybody’s here except the man on watch.”
“O.K.,” said Evans. “You want to start, Chaplain?”
The Chaplain nodded gravely. “I wish,” he said in a low voice, “that I had my, ah, raiment.”
“It’s in the hold,” said Evans. “I don’t think we could get it.”
“Perfectly all right.”