He sat quietly and studied the linoleum of the deck. The cracks in the linoleum formed interesting patterns, rather like lines on a battle map. He wondered just what battle these lines looked the most like. Probably Gettysburg. All maps looked like Gettysburg.
Bored, he examined the books again. One of them caught his eye: a book of short biographies. He picked it up and thumbed through the pages. The last biography was about General Chinese Gordon. Interested, he began to read. In his subconscious Wellington, for the time being, began to fade. A stage appeared in the mind of the Major, and he saw himself, the frustrated romantic, surrounded by Mandarins; dressed as General Gordon, he was receiving a large gold medal for his defeat of the Wangs. Major Barkison could almost hear the offstage cheers of a crowd. He began to frame a speech of thanks in his mind. He could hear his own inner voice speaking brilliantly and at length of attrition. As Chinese Gordon he thought of these things.
ii
At ten o’clock, two hours after they had left the Big Harbor, Evans noticed that the barometer had dropped alarmingly.
He called Bervick over. Together they figured how much the barometer had fallen in the last two hours. Evans was worried; Bervick was not.
“I seen this sort of thing before,” said Bervick. “Sometimes it’s just the chain inside the barometer skipping a little, or maybe it’s just for the time being. I seen this sort of thing before.”
“Sure, so have I.” Evans lowered his voice, he was afraid the man at the wheel might hear them. “I seen it blow all to hell, too, when the barometer dropped like this.” Evans was nervous. He did not like to be nervous or seem nervous at sea, but lately some of the most trivial things upset him. A falling barometer, of course, was not trivial. On the other hand, it was not an unusual thing.
“Well, the weather don’t look bad, Skipper. Take a look.”
They opened one of the windows and looked out. The sky, though fog-ridden and dark, was no more alarming than ever. The sea was not high and the wind was light. The sea gulls were still hovering about the ship.
“I still don’t like this,” murmured Evans. “It’s just the way it was the time the williwaw caught us off Umnak, remember that?”