Two mornings later—the Wasp being at the time off Ysabelica Point, which is the most northerly point of the island of Hayti—I was awakened by young Dundas, one of the two midshipmen whom I had on board. He entered my cabin, laid his hand lightly on my shoulder, and, as I started up at his touch, said:
“I beg your pardon, Mr Delamere, for entering your cabin, but I knocked twice and you did not seem to hear me. The gunner is sorry to have you disturbed, sir, but he would be very much obliged if you would come on deck for a minute or two.”
“Very well,” said I; “I will be up in a brace of shakes. Just turn up the lamp, if you please, youngster, and let us have a little more light on the subject. Ah! that’s better, thanks. Kindly hand me those unmentionables. I say, Mr Dundas, there doesn’t seem to be very much wind. What’s the weather like?”
“Stark calm, sir; smooth water, and as dark as the inside of a cow,” answered the lad.
“Does the weather look threatening, then; or what does—? But never mind; those shoes, if you please. Thanks. That will do. Now I am ready. Away you go, youngster.”
Preceded by the lad, I passed into the fore-cabin and thence up on deck, where, as Dundas had picturesquely intimated, the darkness was profound and the air breathless, save for the small draughts created by the flapping of the great mainsail to the gentle movements of the schooner upon the low undulations of the swell.
As I stepped out on deck I heard Henderson’s voice close at my elbow, although the man himself was invisible.
“Sorry to have been obliged to disturb you, Mr Delamere,” he said, “but something’s happened that I thought you ought to know about.”
“Yes?” I remarked interrogatively. “Well, what was it, Henderson?”
“Well, it’s like this here, sir,” he replied. “We’ve been becalmed this last hour or more, durin’ which the schooner have been boxin’ the compass, while it’s been that close and muggy that one don’t seem to have been able to get air enough to breathe. And the closeness made me feel so drowsy that, to prevent myself from droppin’ off to sleep, I’ve been obliged to keep on my feet, pacing fore and aft atween the main cabin skylight and the main riggin’. The watch have coiled theirselves away somewheres, and I don’t doubt but what they’re snatchin’ a cat-nap—and I haven’t troubled to disturb ’em, sir, for the lookout on the fo’c’s’le is keepin’ his eyes skinned.