“I beg your pardon, sir,” I replied. “I was not laughing at anything you said, but your mention of Mr Markham reminded me of something ridiculous which he said. I hope you will be pleased to excuse me, sir. I should be extremely sorry to do anything having the appearance of rudeness or disrespect.”
“I feel quite sure you would,” returned the skipper, his brow clearing once more, and an amused look coming into his eyes.
“But let us hear what that jocular young gentleman has been saying; it is not a state secret, I suppose, is it?”
“Oh dear no, sir; at the same time I know he would never have said it, had he had the least idea it would ever reach your ears; it was only a little bit of fun on his part—an attempt, in fact, to impose upon me.”
“Out with it, Mr Chester,” exclaimed the doctor, his eyes fairly dancing with fun; “I’ll be sworn he has been in some way taking your name in vain, sir,” he continued, turning to the captain.
“I think it more than likely, but it is quite impossible to feel offended with the lad, he is always so utterly devoid of anything like evil intention.”
Seeing that my narrative would not be likely to do any harm, I thereupon proceeded to tell my story, which proved productive of a great deal of laughter. At its conclusion the skipper said, “Pour yourself out another glass of wine, Mr Chester, and then, I suppose, I must excuse you. Mr Sennitt will not easily forgive me, if I prevent you from keeping your proper watch.”
On reaching the deck I found that the wind had hauled round to about W.N.W., bringing with it a raw and dismal fog, which speedily saturated with moisture everything with which it came in contact. As the night wore on, it became more and more dense, and by midnight it had become so thick that it was impossible to see from one end of the ship to the other, and Captain Brisac gave orders for the “Scourge” to be hove-to. The vessel was accordingly brought to the wind on the starboard tack, with her head pointing in the direction of the French coast, and the watch, with the exception of half-a-dozen of the smartest hands, who were placed on the lookout, were allowed to dispose themselves about the deck in the most sheltered spots they could find.
The fog lasted all through the first watch, and when I went on deck at midnight to take my turn of duty, it was thicker than ever. The vapour came sweeping down upon the ship in great opaque masses, some of which were so dense that it was barely possible to distinguish objects on the opposite side of the deck, while the lower yards were only visible from the deck at very rare periods. The few men moving about loomed more like gigantic shadows than human beings, and the binnacle lamps (the only lights visible) emitted a feeble and ghostly glimmer which hardly sufficed to render visible the features of the man who stood by the wheel. No lights of any kind were exhibited on board the “Scourge,” Captain Brisac preferring to trust to a good lookout, and the precautions adopted by other vessels, for our safety from collision, rather than run the risk of betraying our presence to an enemy by the exhibition of lights. For the same reason he had given orders that the ship’s bell should on no account whatever be struck during the continuance of the thick weather.
Somehow I could not help thinking that the skipper’s precautions exposed us to a great deal of danger. Supposing, for example, that some other ship, practising the same “precautions,” happened to be in our immediate neighbourhood and approaching us on the opposite tack, what would be the result? Why, in all probability the two craft would fall on board each other, inflicting serious mutual damage, amounting perhaps to the complete destruction of one or both. The idea made me very uneasy, so much so, indeed, that, my imagination at length becoming excited, I was on the point of giving an alarm at least a dozen times, thinking every now and then that I could discern the dim outline of a strange ship sweeping silently down upon us like a gigantic ghost. So strong, indeed, did the illusion at length become, that I could have sworn I caught a momentary glimpse of a light to windward, and, after hesitating a few minutes, I became so convinced that I had seen a light, that I went up to Mr Sennitt and reported it.