"What's she doing, eh?" he asked. "Did that stop her? Is she coaling up, or does she signal? Lord, if I had the oil I'd sweep the sea from New York to Queenstown. What is it, boy?—why don't you answer me?"
"You don't give me time; but I can see now. She's coaling up, and there are men forward working with oars."
"Do you say that?" he said, pushing me away from the glass. "Do you say that she's coaling? By thunder, you're right! We'll have her oil yet; and then let them as come after me look to themselves!"
As he said the last word he stepped from the conning-tower on to the bridge, and I followed him.
There, at the distance of a third of a mile away on the starboard bow, was the crippled cruiser, helpless by her look; and our light fell full upon her, showing men in great activity upon her decks, and others running forward as though there were danger also in the fo'castle. The night around us was very dark, and the huge, heaving swell shone black as pitch in mountains and cavities below the gallery. We two were alone there upon the ocean, finishing that terrible duel—if, indeed, the end had not come, as I thought from the silence of the other.
"Skipper, are you going aboard her now?" asked the man "Roaring John," who came to us on the bridge. "She's done by her looks, and you'll get no oil if ye delay. Karl there, he ain't as comfortable as if he were in his bed."
The little German was very far from it. He was almost desperate when minute by minute his stock of oil grew less; and he ran from one to the other, as though we had grease in our pockets, and could give it to him.
Black took due notice, but did not lose his calm. His cigar was now glowing red, and he took it often from his mouth, looking at the lighted end of it as a man does who is thinking quickly.
"You're quite sure she's done, John?" he asked, turning to the big man.
"She's done, I guess, or why don't she spit? If she's got another kick in her, send me to the devil!"