"Oh, Foster!—what do you say? How much water do the pumps give now? Any chance of the leak drying up?"
"Only a couple of feet left in her, Captain. Four men have come off from shore to relieve our crew. We'll soon have her as dry as a bone, sir"
"No use" Captain Bradley rolled his head on the pillow "You'll find her larboard strake started—port side of the keel. She's finished. She'll have to go to the junk heap now" He lay quiet a moment, thinking. "If I had my way, she should be towed to sea, and sunk in deep water. I ought to go along with her.... But I suppose she's worth a few dollars as junk" Suddenly he sat up in bed, threw off the clothes, and raised his clenched hands above his head. "Oh, my God!" he screamed "I've been working all my life, and I haven't a few dollars to redeem my old ship!"
"Lie down, Captain. You must keep quiet. Lie down, sir. You'll feel better in a little while"
"Yes, yes" The paroxysm passed; the old man fell back exhausted. Again his mind wandered; he seemed to be sinking off into a doze. Like a child at the end of the day, half way between sleeping and waking, he babbled of endeavours on the playground of the world.
"After that typhoon, I rigged a jury rudder and brought her into Manila.... Oh, yes, they said it was.... You wouldn't expect an accident in the trade winds. The fore-topmast went at the head of the lower mast, carrying the jibboom with it; but in a couple of weeks you couldn't have told that anything had happened.... Pleasant weather, pleasant weather.... I looked up, and saw his green light almost hanging over my bow.... Funny, isn't it, how things come round?..."
Gradually he stopped muttering. The doctor took his pulse, then beckoned the mate to follow him into the cabin. "It can't be long now" he whispered "Who was the old fellow, anyway? He seems to have a strange assortment on his mind"
"I don't know much about him. He was a fine man.... Say, you stand in the door, there, and tell me when he's finished. I can't bear to watch him any longer"
They had been waiting some time in silence, when a quick movement in the bunk started them running toward the stateroom. Captain Bradley was sitting up in bed again. All trace of pain had left his features. His hands lay quietly on the coverlet, his eyes were fixed on something far away. The faint shadow of a smile crossed his face, illuminating it with an expression of wisdom and serenity.
"Grace! Frankie! Under sail!" he cried in a loud voice—then settled slowly back among the pillows.