"If you are, it isn't anything to be ashamed of. I've known old sea-captains who got sea-sick every time they put out of port."
There was a running forward. The shanghaied man hove in sight, on the rampage again. He came racing aft. "I must speak with the captain."
There was a scuffle. He broke away. Again the two mates were close upon him. Suddenly he flung himself down and both the mates tripped over him and went headlong.
The captain couldn't help laughing. Then he began to swear ... "that fellow's going to give us a lot of trouble," he prophesied.
Several sailors, grinning, had joined in the chase. They had caught the fellow and were dragging him forward by the back and scruff of the neck, while he deliberately hung limp and let his feet drag as if paralysed from the waist down.
The captain stood over the group, that had come to a halt below. The captain was in good humour.
"Bring him up here."
The shanghaied man stood facing Schantze, with all the deference of a sailor, yet subtly defiant.
The captain began to talk in German.